Film

March of the Penguins quietly took mainstream America by storm last year with its surprisingly dramatic story of emperor penguins in Antarctica. The documentary film was both a critical and a box-office success, winning an Academy Award and grossing $122.6 million worldwide. Several other documentar

Dr. T. J. Eckleburg’s eyes, an optometrist’s billboard on the road to Jay Gatsby’s mansion, stared patiently out over the Jazz Age, without blinking, without judgment, without tears. In their pitiless observation of America drowning in its own bootleg liquor and easy money, the eye

In all probability more people have read Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code in its Farsi translation than have read all my publications put together. No wonder. It is splendid junk, and I mean that as a positive remark, sort of. Brown has a flawless sense of his genre, and the book delivers exactly

Plastic chairs and paper cups, laptops and cell phones: the depersonalizing symbols of air travel. Baseball hats and tee-shirts. Boarding passes spit out of machines at the beckoning of a credit card. The herding into lines by airport and airline personnel clearly bored with their jobs and annoyed b

Brokeback Mountain received one of the most enthusiastic receptions of any film released this past year. The pony had scarcely left the barn before reviewers filled its saddlebags with potential Oscars. They seemed almost afraid to corral their enthusiasm. Why should such a competent but really quit

My presence at a midday meeting a few weeks ago was not essential. Surely, other demands on my time were more pressing, but for some strange reason as the campus carillon struck noon, even though I’d be a few minutes late, for some inexplicable reason, I decided to put in an appearance. I open

Syriana provides a valuable insight, one of those “Aha!” moments. Before sitting through this new film, brilliantly written and directed by Stephen Gaghan, I held the rather conventional belief that the news from the Middle East was relentlessly depressing because of the horrible events

Long, sweeping shots from the air reveal a sullen winter landscape. Frosty roads hint at a tentative incursion of humanity into this otherwise barren countryside, but otherwise the scene could be taken from a distant planet. The camera slides over the edge of a monstrous crater, fashioned by steel a

"Nattering nabobs of negativism” was the phrase Spiro T. Agnew used to describe the press when he addressed the convention of California Republicans on Sept. 11, 1970. The vice president had his own reasons for despising what he called “the effete corps of impudent snobs.” Loc

Broken Flowers needs no narrative. Bill Murray’s face says it all: unspeakably sad eyes that might once have had the twinkle of a comedian, pitted jowls and a mouth far too small and puffy for a face grown larger as his forehead nudges his hairline backwards. He stares intently at his huge pla