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Ottawa police detective Akiva Geller and the case of the famed purloined Yousef Karsh photograph

Akiva Gelller with the famed photograph of Winston Churchill taken by Yousef Karsh

By MYRON LOVE It had all the elements of a novel, heist movie or televison episode – a brazen art thief and forger, an iconic work of art, secret storage lockers, DNA and an international trail of crumbs to follow ..and Ottawa police service detective (also a former Winnipegger) Akiva Geller was right in the middle of the action.
The case revolved around the theft from the Fairmont Chateau Laurier Hotel of an iconic photograph of Winston Churchill, taken in 1941, \by the world famous photographer Yousef Karsh. Karsh and his wife, Estrellita, lived at the classy hotel for 18 years. Toward the end of his life, the photographer donated that print – “The Roaring Lion”  – along with several others to the hotel.  The print, valued at $20,000, was hung in the hotel’s reading room. It was reported stolen – and replaced with a forgery – in the summer of 2022.
 Geller joined the Ottawa police force in 2012 following a 14-year career in the Canadian military.
He recalls that he initially considered becoming a pharmacist. He was inspired to change his plans by the yeoman work of the Canadian soldiers who helped stem the tide during the great flood here in 1997. 
“That kind of community service resonated with me,’ he says.  “I appreciated the hands-on aspect of it all.”
He enlisted the next year.
While serving in the military largely in  a series of administrative and teaching capacities, Geller began taking classes at Algonquin College in security management that led to his taking a criminology program – and degree – at Carleton University.
He left the military in 2012 to join the Ottawa police force.  He began his policing career as a patrol officer. He was promoted to the investigative branch in 2020.    
Now, unlike what we may see on television, being a police detective is not a case of investigating the murder of the week.  Geller notes that much of his time is spent looking into suspicious deaths – including overdoses. A high profile case such as the Karsh photo heist comes along once in a lifetime for most police detectives.
This articular story begins, according to Geller, somewhere between late December 2021, and mid-January 2023, when an individual who has since been identified as Jeffrey Wood,walked into the hotel, removed the framed portrait print from the wall, and replaced it with a copy on which Wood had forged Karsh’s signature. At the time, the hotel was largely shut down due to the Covid lockdowns; thus few people were around.
The switch wasn’t discovered, Geller reports,  until the following August, when hotel engineer Bruno Lair noticed that the framed print was a little off kilter. When he went to straighten it, he saw that the portrait was hung by a wire – with holes in the wall where screws had held the portrait in place.
“Wood was identified as the seller after we obtained the response to a ‘Mutual Legal Assistance Request’ sent o the United Kingdom,” Geller recalls.  “In the response, Sotheby’s London gave us his information, including scanned copies of his passport and IDs.”
The Hotel GM and staff contacted the Yousuf Karsh estate and spoke to the director, Jerry Fielder, who, it was assumed, could verify whether the fraudulent portrait signature was forged, Geller continues.  He was sent a picture of the signature and fake portrait, confirmed it was forged and that the portrait was a fake.   The hotel reported the theft of the authentic Roaring Lion to Ottawa Police, at which time
Geller began his investigation.  Geller goes on to say: “In searching for the authentic portrait I sourced two photos of the authentic portrait on the wall before it was stolen, one from Trip Advisor and the other from Twitter.  Both had the portrait signature clearly visible so I could compare them to other signatures I found.
“I came across the Sotheby’s London Auction from May 2022 in which a portrait with a very similar size and signature was sold,” Geller says.  “I compared the signature to the ones I sourced from online and determined they were the same. I asked Library and Archives Canada to assist in examining the fake print and also in comparing the signatures.  While signature analysis is not in their expertise, they were able to advise that it was highly probable that they were the same.  With this I was able to complete a Mutual Legal Assistance Request to the United Kingdom for assistance in obtaining the details of the Sotheby’s Auction. London Metropolitan Police assisted in obtaining the information on the auction and sent it back to me here in Canada.  This took almost a year to obtain because of the levels of approvals, editing and paperwork involved.” 
Sotheby’s London’s documents identified the seller of the Roaring Lion portrait as well as details about him, communications they had with him and photographs of the portrait before it was obtained by Sotheby’s.  Wood was identified as the seller. 
“I wrote numerous production orders to all of Wood’s known bank accounts, phone numbers, and credit cards,” Geller recalls.  “Once I received the return from his phone company I had to go line by line through his phone bills.  There I found a phone call to a storage unit here in Ottawa.” 
I wrote a search warrant for the storage locker and a production order for the information on the locker and owner.  I executed the search warrant and, in the locker, we found a second fake Churchill print,” he reports. “We also found a toothbrush which we believed would have Wood’s DNA on it.  We sent the toothbrush directly to the Centre for Forensic Sciences in Ontario.  They compared the DNA from the toothbrush to DNA obtained from inside the fake portrait which was put up in the real one’s place.” 
 
The next piece of the puzzle was to reclaim the portrait to return it to the Chateau Laurier.  The drawback here that the buyer of the portrait was an Italian lawyer – one Nicola Castinelli.  In Italy, Geller notes, if you buy stolen items in good faith – in other words, if you didn’t know the item was stolen – you have a legal claim to the property, which would mean that you would have to be taken to court to have you relinquish it. 
Geller reports that the Italian carabinieri in Rome sent officers to visit the buyer in Genoa and persuaded him to return the portrait in return for what he paid.
Wood was arrested last April.  At his hearing on March 14, he pleaded guilty.
Geller reports that, although the maximum sentence is 14 years in prison, the prosecution is requesting of the court a two year sentence while his lawyer is asking for a suspended sentence.
As for the portrait, it was reframed and remounted at the chateau Laurier in the former reading room, which has been converted into a lounge.  He adds that the hotel now has a lot more security in place.
“It was a nice reinstallation ceremony,” Geller says. 
Mrs. Karsh (who is in her 90s) even wrote a letter to the hotel expressing her appreciation about the portrait being “back home”, he adds.   

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So, what’s the deal with the honey scene in ‘Marty Supreme?’

Timothée Chalamet plays Jewish ping-pong player Marty Mauser in Marty Supreme. Courtesy of A24

By Olivia Haynie December 29, 2025 This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.

There are a lot of jarring scenes in Marty Supreme, Josh Safdie’s movie about a young Jew in the 1950s willing to do anything to secure his spot in table tennis history. There’s the one where Marty (Timothée Chalamet) gets spanked with a ping-pong paddle; there’s the one where a gas station explodes. And the one where Marty, naked in a bathtub, falls through the floor of a cheap motel. But the one that everybody online seems to be talking about is a flashback of an Auschwitz story told by Marty’s friend and fellow ping-ponger Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig, best known for his role as a Sonderkommando in Son of Saul).

Kletzki tells the unsympathetic ink tycoon Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary) about how the Nazis, impressed by his table tennis skills, spared his life and recruited him to disarm bombs. One day, while grappling with a bomb in the woods, Kletzki stumbled across a honeycomb. He smeared the honey across his body and returned to the camp, where he let his fellow prisoners lick it off his body. The scene is a sensory nightmare, primarily shot in close-ups of wet tongues licking sticky honey off Kletzki’s hairy body. For some, it was also … funny?

Many have reported that the scene has been triggering a lot of laughter in their theaters. My audience in Wilmington, North Carolina, certainly had a good chuckle — with the exception of my mother, who instantly started sobbing. I sat in stunned silence, unsure at first what to make of the sharp turn the film had suddenly taken. One post on X that got nearly 6,000 likes admonished Safdie for his “insane Holocaust joke.” Many users replied that the scene was in no way meant to be funny, with one even calling it “the most sincere scene in the whole movie.”

For me, the scene shows the sheer desperation of those in the concentration camps, as well as the self-sacrifice that was essential to survival. And yet many have interpreted it as merely shock humor.

Laughter could be understood as an inevitable reaction to discomfort and shock at a scene that feels so out of place in what has, up to that point, been a pretty comedic film. The story is sandwiched between Marty’s humorous attempts to embarrass Rockwell and seduce his wife. Viewers may have mistaken the scene as a joke since the film’s opening credits sequence of sperm swimming through fallopian tubes gives the impression you will be watching a comedy interspersed with some tense ping-pong playing.

The reaction could also be part of what some in the movie theater industry are calling the “laugh epidemic.” In The New York Times, Marie Solis explored the inappropriate laughter in movie theaters that seems to be increasingly common. The rise of meme culture and the dissolution of clear genres (Marty Supreme could be categorized as somewhere between drama and comedy), she writes, have primed audiences to laugh at moments that may not have been meant to be funny.

The audience’s inability to process the honey scene as sincere may also be a sign of a society that has become more disconnected from the traumas of the past. It would not be the first time that people, unable to comprehend the horrors of the Holocaust, have instead derided the tales of abuse as pure fiction. But Kletzki’s story is based on the real experiences of Alojzy Ehrlich, a ping-pong player imprisoned at Auschwitz. The scene is not supposed to be humorous trauma porn — Safdie has called it a “beautiful story” about the “camaraderie” found within the camps. It also serves as an important reminder of all that Marty is fighting for.

The events of the film take place only seven years after the Holocaust, and the macabre honey imagery encapsulates the dehumanization the Jews experienced. Marty is motivated not just by a desire to prove himself as an athlete and rise above what his uncle and mother expect of him, but above what the world expects of him as a Jew. His drive to reclaim Jewish pride is further underscored when he brings back a piece of an Egyptian pyramid to his mother, telling her, “We built this.”

Without understanding this background, the honey scene will come off as out of place and ridiculous. And the lengths Marty is willing to go to to make something of himself cannot be fully appreciated. The film’s description on the review-app Letterboxd says Marty Supreme is about one man who “goes to hell and back in pursuit of greatness.” But behind Marty is the story of a whole people who have gone through hell; they too are trying to find their way back.

Olivia Haynie is an editorial fellow at the Forward.

This story was originally published on the Forward.

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Paghahambing ng One-on-One Matches at Multiplayer Challenges sa Pusoy in English

Ang Pusoy, na kilala din bilang Chinese Poker, ay patuloy na sumisikat sa buong mundo, kumukuha ng interes ng mga manlalaro mula sa iba’t ibang bansa. Ang mga online platforms ay nagpapadali sa pag-access nito. Ang online version nito ay lubos na nagpasigla ng interes sa mga baguhan at casual players, na nagdulot ng diskusyon kung alin ang mas madali: ang paglalaro ng Pusoy one-on-one o sa multiplayer settings.

Habang nailipat sa digital platforms ang Pusoy, napakahalaga na maunawaan ang mga format nito upang mapahusay ang karanasan sa laro. Malaking epekto ang bilang ng mga kalaban pagdating sa istilo ng laro, antas ng kahirapan, at ang ganap na gameplay dynamics. Ang mga platforms tulad ng GameZone ay nagbibigay ng angkop na espasyo para sa mga manlalaro na masubukan ang parehong one-on-one at multiplayer Pusoy, na akma para sa iba’t ibang klase ng players depende sa kanilang kasanayan at kagustuhan.

Mga Bentahe ng One-on-One Pusoy

Simpleng Gameplay

Sa one-on-one Pusoy in English, dalawa lang ang naglalaban—isang manlalaro at isang kalaban. Dahil dito, mas madali ang bawat laban. Ang pokus ng mga manlalaro ay nakatuon lamang sa kanilang sariling 13 cards at sa mga galaw ng kalaban, kaya’t nababawasan ang pagiging komplikado.

Para sa mga baguhan, ideal ang one-on-one matches upang:

  • Sanayin ang tamang pagsasaayos ng cards.
  • Matutunan ang tamang ranggo ng bawat kamay.
  • Magsanay na maiwasan ang mag-foul sa laro.

Ang simpleng gameplay ay nagbibigay ng matibay na pundasyon para sa mas kumplikadong karanasan sa multiplayer matches.

Mga Estratehiya mula sa Pagmamasid

Sa one-on-one matches, mas madaling maunawaan ang istilo ng kalaban dahil limitado lamang ang galaw na kailangan sundan. Maaari mong obserbahan ang mga sumusunod na patterns:

  • Konserbatibong pagkakaayos o agresibong strategy.
  • Madalas na pagkakamali o overconfidence.
  • Labis na pagtuon sa isang grupo ng cards.

Dahil dito, nagkakaroon ng pagkakataon ang mga manlalaro na isaayos ang kanilang estratehiya upang mas epektibong maka-responde sa galaw ng kalaban, partikular kung maglalaro sa competitive platforms tulad ng GameZone.

Mas Mababang Pressure

Dahil one-on-one lamang ang laban, mababawasan ang mental at emotional stress. Walang ibang kalaban na makaka-distract, na nagbibigay ng pagkakataon para sa mga baguhan na matuto nang walang matinding parusa sa kanilang mga pagkakamali. Nagiging stepping stone ito patungo sa mas dynamic na multiplayer matches.

Ang Hamon ng Multiplayer Pusoy

Mas Komplikado at Mas Malalim na Gameplay

Sa Multiplayer Pusoy, madaragdagan ang bilang ng kalaban, kaya mas nagiging komplikado ang laro. Kailangan kalkulahin ng bawat manlalaro ang galaw ng maraming tao at ang pagkakaayos nila ng cards.

Ang ilang hamon ng multiplayer ay:

  • Pagbabalanse ng lakas ng cards sa tatlong grupo.
  • Pag-iwas sa labis na peligro habang nagiging kompetitibo.
  • Pagtatagumpayan ang lahat ng kalaban nang sabay-sabay.

Ang ganitong klase ng gameplay ay nangangailangan ng maingat na pagpaplano, prediksyon, at strategic na pasensiya.

Mas Malakas na Mental Pressure

Mas mataas ang psychological demand sa multiplayer, dahil mabilis ang galawan at mas mahirap manatiling kalmado sa gitna ng mas maraming kalaban. Kabilang dito ang:

  • Bilisan ang pagdedesisyon kahit under pressure.
  • Paano mananatiling focused sa gitna ng mga distractions.
  • Pagkakaroon ng emosyonal na kontrol matapos ang sunod-sunod na talo.

Mas exciting ito para sa mga manlalarong gusto ng matinding hamon at pagmamalasakit sa estratehiya.

GameZone: Ang Bagong Tahanan ng Modern Pusoy

Ang GameZone online ay isang kahanga-hangang platform para sa mga naglalaro ng Pusoy in English. Nagbibigay ito ng opsyon para sa parehong one-on-one at multiplayer matches, akma para sa kahit anong antas ng kasanayan.

Mga feature ng GameZone:

  • Madaling English interface para sa user-friendly na gameplay.
  • Real-player matches imbes na kalaban ay bots.
  • Mga tool para sa responsible play, tulad ng time reminder at spending limits.

Pagtatagal ng Pamanang Pusoy

Ang Pusoy card game in English ay nagpalawak ng abot nito sa mas maraming players mula sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng mundo habang pinapanatili ang tradisyunal nitong charm. Sa pamamagitan ng mga modernong platform tulad ng GameZone, mananatiling buhay at progresibo ang Pusoy, nakakabighani pa rin sa lahat ng antas ng manlalaro—mula sa casual enjoyment hanggang sa competitive challenges.

Mula sa maingat na pag-aayos ng mga cards hanggang sa pag-master ng estratehiya, ang Pusoy ay isang laro na nananatiling relevant habang ipinapakita ang masalimuot nitong gameplay dynamics na puno ng kultura at inobasyon.

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Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers.

Can men and women just be friends? Can you be in the revenge business too long? Why don’t you just make 10 louder and have that be the top number on your amp?

All are questions Rob Reiner sought to answer. In the wake of his and his wife’s unexpected deaths, which are being investigated as homicides, it’s hard not to reel with questions of our own: How could someone so beloved come to such a senseless end? How can we account for such a staggering loss to the culture when it came so prematurely? How can we juggle that grief and our horror over the violent murder of Jews at an Australian beach, gathered to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah, and still light candles of our own?

The act of asking may be a way forward, just as Rob Reiner first emerged from sitcom stardom by making inquiries.

In This is Spinal Tap, his first feature, he played the role of Marty DiBergi, the in-universe director of the documentary about the misbegotten 1982 U.S. concert tour of the eponymous metal band. He was, in a sense, culminating the work of his father, Carl Reiner, who launched a classic comedy record as the interviewer of Mel Brooks’ 2,000 Year Old Man. DiBergi as played by Reiner was a reverential interlocutor — one might say a fanboy — but he did take time to query Nigel Tufnell as to why his amp went to 11. And, quoting a bad review, he asked “What day did the Lord create Spinal Tap, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”

But Reiner had larger questions to mull over. And in this capacity — not just his iconic scene at Katz’s Deli in When Harry Met Sally or the goblin Yiddishkeit of Miracle Max in The Princess Bride — he was a fundamentally Jewish director.

Stand By Me is a poignant meditation on death through the eyes of childhood — it asks what we remember and how those early experiences shape us. The Princess Bride is a storybook consideration of love — it wonders at the price of seeking or avenging it at all costs. A Few Good Men is a trenchant, cynical-for-Aaron Sorkin, inquest of abuse in the military — how can it happen in an atmosphere of discipline.

In his public life, Reiner was an activist. He asked how he could end cigarette smoking. He asked why gay couples couldn’t marry like straight ones. He asked what Russia may have had on President Trump. This fall, with the FCC’s crackdown on Jimmy Kimmel, he asked if he would soon be censored. He led with the Jewish question of how the world might be repaired.

Guttingly, in perhaps his most personal project, 2015’s Being Charlie, co-written by his son Nick he wondered how a parent can help a child struggling with addiction. (Nick was questioned by the LAPD concerning his parents’ deaths and was placed under arrest.)

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None of the questions had pat answers. Taken together, there’s scarcely a part of life that Reiner’s filmography overlooked, including the best way to end it, in 2007’s The Bucket List.

Judging by the longevity of his parents, both of whom lived into their 90s, it’s entirely possible Reiner had much more to ask of the world. That we won’t get to see another film by him, or spot him on the news weighing in on the latest democratic aberration, is hard to swallow.

Yet there is some small comfort in the note Reiner went out on. In October, he unveiled Spinal Tap II: The Beginning of the End, a valedictory moment in a long and celebrated career.

Reiner once again returned to the role of DiBergi. I saw a special prescreening with a live Q&A after the film. It was the day Charlie Kirk was assassinated. I half-expected Reiner to break character and address political violence — his previous film, God & Country, was a documentary on Christian Nationalism.

But Reiner never showed up — only Marty DiBergi, sitting with Nigel Tuffnell (Christopher Guest), David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean) and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) at Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Los Angeles. The interview was broadcast to theaters across the country, with viewer-submitted questions like “What, in fact, did the glove from Smell the Glove smell like?” (Minty.) And “Who was the inspiration for ‘Big Bottom?’” (Della Reese.)

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DiBergi had one question for the audience: “How did you feel about the film?”

The applause was rapturous, but DiBergi still couldn’t get over Nigel Tuffnell’s Marshall amp, which now stretched beyond 11 and into infinity.

“How can that be?” he asked. “How can you go to infinity? How loud is that?”

There’s no limit, Tuffnell assured him. “Why should there be a limit?”

Reiner, an artist of boundless curiosity and humanity, was limitless. His remit was to reason why. He’ll be impossible to replace, but in asking difficult questions, we can honor him.

The post Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers. appeared first on The Forward.

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