Benjamin Irvine knows generators. Six years of U.S. Army Airborne service, a career engineering power systems, the kind of training where you don’t improvise your way through a job. None of that explains why he started writing songs later in life, or why those songs are now funding a brain-science platform for kids.

The music came first, almost by accident. Irvine wrote a track called “Never Be Lonely” for his 30th wedding anniversary, a gift to mark thirty years with his wife. Finishing it showed him that music could carry things plain words couldn’t, and that realization sent him back through poems he’d written over the years, reimagining them as full songs. He brought in vocalists, musicians, and producers through Fiverr to turn rough acoustic sketches into finished recordings, handling the words and emotional direction himself while collaborators shaped the arrangements and performances.

Here’s where it gets interesting. The point of all this music was never just to put songs on streaming services. Benjamin Irvine built the catalog to fund NeuroKnights, an educational platform he created to teach kids how their brains actually work.

NeuroKnights is built around a cast of brain-based characters, things like Sir Cortex, Synapse, Amygdala, and NeuroShield, who guide children through stories, games, and challenges about memory, focus, emotional control, and decision-making. There’s a kids portal, a parent control center, brain games, and progress tracking, all kept inside a child-safe environment with no ads. It’s aimed at the 7-to-12 crowd.

The mission comes from a specific frustration. Benjamin Irvine doesn’t think good education should depend on whether a kid happens to live somewhere with strong schools and reliable technology. Plenty of children don’t, and NeuroKnights is his attempt to reach some of them anyway. There’s a forward-looking piece too. Kids are growing up alongside AI that’s reshaping how people learn and work, and rather than treating that as something to fear, the platform frames it as a tool worth understanding.

You can see that thinking in the storytelling. One book concept follows a kid named Sam who takes a sip of an energy drink and accidentally wakes up Addiction, a villain who wraps the brain’s reward center in glowing chains and keeps whispering that Sam needs more to feel okay. The brain’s heroes have to team up to pull him back before he loses the joy he had before. It’s a real lesson about choice and self-control, dressed up in a story a 9-year-old will actually sit through.

What makes this project credible isn’t just the concept. It’s who’s running it.

Before any of the music or the characters, Benjamin Irvine spent six years with U.S. Army Airborne at Fort Bragg. After that he built a career in power generation, working as a generator engineer with a background in turbine and generator service leadership, project management, and advanced electrical testing. He’s a GS Generator Specialist trained through GE Power Systems University, with a business management degree from the University of Phoenix on top of it.

That’s not a typical resume for a children’s education startup, and it shows in how the platform is put together. Engineering work and military service both reward the same thing: structure that holds up under pressure. You don’t improvise a turbine inspection, and you don’t wing safety protocols around an Airborne unit. Irvine brings that same discipline to a product where the stakes are kids’ attention and trust. The child-safe design, the parent controls, the progress tracking, the insistence on no ads, these read less like marketing checkboxes and more like the work of someone trained to build things that hold up under scrutiny.

The music itself is finding an audience while the bigger project takes shape. Irvine reports that songs including “Heads High” and “We Stayed Anyway” have picked up radio play across the U.S., U.K., Germany, France, Italy, Ireland, and a long list of other countries, with airplay he puts at more than 200 stations worldwide. His most-streamed tracks run under Platinum Edition titles like “Heads High,” “Make It Real,” and “STAY,” all available on his Spotify playlist.

Music’s been in his life longer than any of this, for what it’s worth. As a kid he toured to gigs with his grandfather, who fronted a country western cover band called Lloyd Meddock and the Melody Boys. He’s still writing, with five songs in various stages of development, and he’ll tell you he’d love to hear Kane Brown take on a country track he wrote called “Built For the Climb.”

The throughline holds. Irvine still doesn’t improvise. The discipline that ran through six years of Airborne service and a career in power systems is the same thing now holding up a platform built for kids who might not have much else, funded by songs that started as a gift. You can find the rest at NeuroKnights.com or on Facebook and TikTok.

In the music video for “Forever Mirin,” Lord Conrad isn’t content to be the guy behind the soundboard. He shows up on screen as a cyber-armored billionaire, an interstellar DJ, a Tron-cycle racer, and a laser-gun-toting hero blasting cyborgs across a galaxy he built himself. The Italian producer, born Corrado Garibaldi, has done something that used to require a studio backlot and a nine-figure budget. He’s written himself into a sci-fi epic as the lead, and he did it with AI.

That’s the real story here. For most of film history, casting yourself as the action hero of your own universe meant you needed a crew, a soundstage, and producers willing to bet on you. Lord Conrad needed a progressive house track and AI generation tools. The video is entirely AI-made, which gives it that hyper-smooth, constantly morphing quality where interstellar armadas and cyberpunk megacities materialize on demand. One person, generating an entire world from scratch, then stepping into the middle of it as the protagonist.

What’s interesting is how completely he commits to the fantasy. There’s no irony, no wink at the camera. He’s surrounded by neon tickers flashing $1,000,000 for Bitcoin and the Nasdaq, Lamborghini-style supercars with butterfly doors, pink super-yachts, and champagne in sky-high penthouses. On-screen text claims a “Quantum CPU AI Revolution” has solved every human problem and handed out wealth and immortality to all. It’s techno-optimism cranked to its absolute fictional ceiling, the opposite of the usual sci-fi warning about machines turning on us.

Strip away the spectacle and you’re left with a question about authorship. When a single creator can generate the cities, the spacecraft, the villains, and the visual mythology, then install himself as the central figure, the line between producer and protagonist disappears. Lord Conrad has built a string of EDM hits, from “Touch The Sky” to “Only You,” which dancers have picked up on the shuffle-dance channel ELEMENTS, but this is the first time he’s been able to make himself the literal main character of the world the music lives in.

The result is loud, excessive, and entirely aware of who it’s for. It’s a self-portrait dressed up as a space opera, riding a progressive house beat. You can find Lord Conrad on his website, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, YouTube, and Spotify, where the rest of the universe he keeps building is waiting.

Most directors who make spy films learned the genre by watching other spy films. Boris Volodarsky learned it by spending decades studying how intelligence operations actually work, writing books like The KGB’s Poison Factory and The Murder of Alexander Litvinenko, and consulting for the BBC and Hollywood along the way. So when he makes a thriller, the question isn’t whether he can fake authenticity. It’s what happens when someone who knows the real thing decides to dramatize it.

His new film, The Train, opens in Germany and Austria this September. It follows a luxury journey aboard the Majestic Imperator from Vienna to Prague, where three investor groups, a retiring SAS officer, and a lethal Russian agent all end up locked in the same gilded space as a sale turns into something far more dangerous. Before getting into what’s on screen, it’s worth hearing from Volodarsky himself about how a historian of espionage ended up behind the camera, why he cast a Romanian actress as a Russian operative, and what he wants audiences to take away.

You are a well-known intelligence historian and author of several important books on the history of espionage. How and why did you become a filmmaker?

I was born and raised in a theatrical family; my father was a theatre director. My parents did not want me to pursue a professional career in theatre or cinema so I became an intelligence historian. Later, I was invited to give interviews or serve as a consultant for several documentaries, mainly in London, where I lived, but also in Norway and Spain. My first role as chief consultant was in 2006, for a BBC Panorama investigation titled How to Poison a Spy about the Litvinenko case, which became a worldwide sensation and remained in the public eye for the next ten years. Michael Mann, a famous Hollywood director, also invited me to consult on his feature film about Litvinenko. We worked together for several months, but, unfortunately, the project was not realised. My most recent screen involvement was for a six-part documentary series Once Upon a Time in Londongrad (2022), directed by Jed Rothstein. Two years later, I was invited to direct two documentaries for Westside Studios in Vienna. And now comes The Train.

Does your academic work help or interfere with your work on films?

It goes without saying that what I know as an intelligence historian, including my research skills, all of that greatly helps when working on a script, when working with actors on their characters, with costume designers, and even on what filmmakers call “blocking”, that is, the precise staging and choreography of actors’ movements in relation to the camera, lighting, and set layout.

Then another question: why did you choose fiction to talk about this world?

Well, first of all, I did start with documentaries, not fiction. And then answering the question ‘why films?’, I would say that I moved into cinema because cinema can show what books cannot. Although my latest film, The Train, is indeed fiction, it is based on real facts and depicts situations that could very well happen, or maybe even happened, but remain unknown to the public, as everything else that relates to the so-called secret world. And I can assure you that this secret world really exists and is quietly present much closer to us than most people realise. This is not fiction.

The Train is your first full-length feature film, but you have been involved in several films before, both as director and historical consultant. Is that correct?

Yes, as mentioned, in 2024, I was invited to direct a documentary Spy Capital: Vienna and then Spy Capital-2: Name of the Game, both now available on Amazon Prime Video. The Train is my third film in two years.

How would you describe what your film is ultimately saying?

I believe the most important thing was to remind everybody – and this is often forgotten, ignored, or simply unknown – that the secret world exists alongside the overt or public world. As my editor puts it, there is a theatre of influence in which power is exercised invisibly, behind the official reality. Our film clearly demonstrates this, whether in the luxury of a 5-star property in Malta, in a posh villa, in the famous Langham Hotel in London, or even during a leisure journey on the Imperial Majestic train through Central Europe, with 200 guests eating, drinking, and enjoying exclusive shows. This shadow world never truly sleeps. In the film, we show that as rival interests linked to China, Russia, and Great Britain quietly converge (and as a historian, I can tell you that it was exactly so two hundred years ago and would probably continue in the foreseeable future), what begins as a display of wealth and pleasure gradually becomes a tightly controlled game of deception and survival.

The principal female character of the film is a Russian secret agent — an operative of the Russian military intelligence service, the infamous GRU. For this role, you chose a Romanian actress. Why not Russian?

I was considering two Russian female performers for the role: one professional actress and one model. There were other Russian and Ukrainian candidates, too, currently living in Europe. The model, who resides in Poland, was even invited to Vienna for a casting. She dropped out at once. Also, in the current political climate surrounding Russia’s war against Ukraine, some Russian actresses were understandably hesitant about travelling abroad to play a Russian intelligence operative. Finally, our casting director showed a photo of Madalina Bellariu Ion, a famous Romanian actress, and the decision was made at once. There are several episodes in the film where I am genuinely impressed by her performance.

What distinguishes the film’s main protagonist from the familiar heroes of the spy thriller genre?

This is a difficult question because it clearly refers to iconic protagonists like Bond, Bourne, or John McClane. In the film, Dennis DeWall plays a retiring SAS Major Alex Stirling. The British Special Air Service (22 SAS) barracks in Credenhill, Herefordshire, are known as Stirling Lines, named in honour of the Service’s founder, Lieutenant Colonel Sir David Stirling. Dennis is playing his grandson. His hero’s life philosophy coincides with that of his brave ancestor: Who Dares Wins, which is the official motto of this legendary regiment, widely regarded as one of the finest special forces regiments in the world. These people are very different from the familiar screen archetypes, and I do not remember good examples of a SAS officer as the main protagonist in popular movies. In The Train, we tried to show operational realism as well as the human and professional qualities of an SAS operative, whose names, as Alex says, are never mentioned. I hope we succeeded.

Which moments in the film do you think will be most interesting or unexpected for the audience?

I think audiences will be particularly interested in the contrast between the elegance of the train and the hidden tensions unfolding beneath the surface. What begins as a luxurious journey gradually turns into something far darker and more dangerous. There are also several moments involving the main female character that viewers will probably not expect.

What comes through in talking to Volodarsky is how seriously he takes the gap between what the public sees and what actually happens. He’s not selling spectacle. He’s arguing that the world he spent his career documenting is real, ongoing, and closer than most people would like to think. That conviction is what separates The Train from the usual genre exercise. The film leans on practical fight work choreographed by Ali Kabalan, with Dennis DeWall doing his own high-risk stunts on moving trains, and it earns its tension through specificity rather than gloss. When the man directing has written extensively about real assassinations, the violence on screen carries a different weight.

That same attention shows up in the smaller details, the things filling the tables while the guests eat, drink, and pretend not to watch each other. One of them is worth a closer look. The lager the characters keep reaching for is ROLEY’S Super Natural Lager, a sponsor of the film and a natural fit for a story set among people who want the good life without the hangover that comes with it. It’s a British beer built around a brewing process the company calls SmartBrew, which trims the calories and carbs while keeping the flavour where it should be. The numbers do the talking: 89 calories a can, 4.4% ABV, 0.1g of sugar, and B vitamins brewed in. Founder Stewart Rowley, a former professional rugby player, built it because he wanted a beer he could enjoy without the trade-offs, and it went on to take Gold at the World Beer Awards 2025 along with Best International Lager in the UK. On a train full of people who’ve come to be seen with a glass in hand, it belongs there.

That’s the trick of the whole film, really. The polish is real, the glamour is real, and so is everything moving underneath it. The Train opens in Germany and Austria on September 10, 2026, followed by a London premiere and a wider international release. What runs through everything Volodarsky says is the same idea that runs through the film: that the secret world isn’t a screenwriter’s invention but something operating quietly alongside the one the rest of us live in. Come September, audiences get to step into it for themselves.