Yes, Wes Anderson’s films are hyper-stylized, but they’re rich in meaning too. None more so than The Grand Budapest Hotel.
The Ozarks—land of hillbillies and a few vast modern fortunes—are the setting for recent literary thrillers.
In Five Came Back, Mark Harris takes a look at the directors who turned propaganda into high art.
In her new book, Dragnet Nation, Julia Angwin shows how badly disadvantaged ordinary people are in the struggle for privacy online.
This year was the prototype of what’s probably the best that can be expected of the Academy Awards.
A flood, you say? More like a flood of ass-kicking.
The Academy Awards grow ever more inconsequential. At least there will be no "we saw your boobs" ditty this year, though.
When you buy a ticket to a movie called Pompeii, expecting art or even brains would be fatuous; what you want is a good time. Sue me for confessing I had one.
Here’s Jimmy Fallon, the first late-night host too young to have worshipped Carson.
Dean Starkman's The Watchdog That Didn't Bark and the failures of the media during the financial crash.
Honestly, who on earth thought George Clooney's The Monuments Men was a good idea for a movie?
Do America’s current challenges in the Middle East trace back to Harry Truman’s 1948 missteps?
"Mitt" reminds us that seeing a candidate's "true" self is impossible, no matter who he is.
How Stevie Wonder and Coretta Scott King worked in perfect harmony to beat Jesse Helms and create a national holiday.
It’s a dark place.