Monday: Screening of Garry Marshall’s The Other Sister, which seems to be about a goldfish.

The publication of Jonathan Galassi’s translation and meticulous annotation of Eugenio Montale’s Collected Poems, 1920-1954 has been justifiably celebrated on both sides of the Atl

In A Partisan View, one of the many memoirs in which score-settling refugees from the glory days of the anti-Stalinist, pro-Modernist quarterly bite each other on their kneecaps and thei

Dalton Trumbo, a militant blacklisted screenwriter and novelist, commenting on the fifties struggle against government attempts to throttle the American left, said that in that battle there were

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.

During a wide-ranging conversation I had with Primo Levi in his home in Turin in the summer of 1985, two years before his death, I asked him what effect Auschwitz had on him as a writer.

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.

On a trip to Russia in 1995 I was told by the young writers I met there that when a certain famed Soviet novelist returned to his native land, he was an offensive anachronism to them.

On the fourth of August last year in San Antonio, the Alamo rumbled.