J. Hoberman | The Nation

The European émigré who became a philosopher of American cinema.

Hitchcock delighted in manipulating the audience. Early on Luis Buñuel learned to be satisfied with amusing himself.

The left's literary canon has neglected the contributions less-celebrated writers have made to the political significance of literature.

Absurdistan is a stunning encore for novelist Gary Shteyngart,
both the avatar of a new Jewish-American literature and an inveterate
Eastern European trickster.

Though Bergelson wrote in Germany during the 1920s, his stories in Shadows of Berlin are more focused on the past apocalypse than the impending one.

Yiddish, a national language that never had a nation-state, may no
longer have millions of speakers, but it remains contested territory
nonetheless.

You may recall the to-do occasioned two winters past by a certain shift in the mise-en-scène at the United Nations.

"We now live in a culture that's hyperaware of the construction and
manipulation of images in politics," David Greenberg writes in
Nixon's Shadow.