Hark! The squeal of the two-headed amphibian. Mating season must have begun.
After we admit that all historical circumstances are specific and all sufferings absolute--that Serbian "police" are not Nazis and ethnic Albanians not Jews (and NATO forces cannot be compared p
Like a guest at a potlatch, laughing to see his host's worldly goods go up in flames, I roared at The Matrix--roared and at the same time was humbled, knowing Warner Bros.
Like the telephone before it, television has been an instrument for overcoming American loneliness.
My friend Dennis Paoli says there are two kinds of horror movies, and since his screenwriting credits include Re-Animator, I treat his categories with respect.
Monday: Screening of Garry Marshall's The Other Sister, which seems to be about a goldfish.
It's characteristic of Erick Zonca's extraordinary first feature, The Dreamlife of Angels, that we never learn how Isa got that scar across her right eyebrow.
I grew up on dance films, although they weren't known as such; they were called musicals.
Although the producers of the Academy Awards ceremony like to boast that a billion people watch their broadcast, I take comfort in knowing that another 5 billion do not.
A man locks his daughters in a one-room house for their first twelve years. The girls--twins--don't attend school; they don't play with other kids. They're never even given a bath.


