Film

Forgive the ponderous title. As a veteran reviewer, I do recognize the limits of my role. Ordinarily, I would try to find a mildly entertaining way to remind readers that Francis Coppola’s Apocalypse Now received a warm if not enthusiastic welcome when it first appeared in 1979. I would conclu

A. I. Artificial Intelligence leaves no doubt that it wants its audiences to enter a realm of pure fantasy when it identifies one of the last remaining islands of civilization as New Jersey. As the voice-over narrator (Ben Kingsley) explains (pace George W.), global warming has melted the polar ice

Sell everything to buy the “pearl of great price,” the Gospel tells us (Mt. 13:46). Disney did exactly that, mortgaging the Mouse House for upwards of $140 million to produce this year’s summer blockbuster, Pearl Harbor. It bought a pearl of pure plastic.No, “Pearl Harbor&rdq

As you might have suspected, neurosis plagues columnists and reviewers. After a quarter century of these near-monthly essays on the state of civilization as mirrored in popular films, I still wonder each time I sit at the word processor if this is the column that will finally reveal, once and for al

Many years ago, decades in fact, I was the object of an extraordinary kindness. In the very act of accepting this favor, however, I reacted with a remark of stupefying insensitivity. My benefactor recoiled visibly. The damage once done could not be undone. To describe the exchange in more detail wou

Art is a blood sport. Really. Someone, something must be sacrificed during the game, while heartless spectators stare in fascination at the suffering orchestrated for their amusement. Just think how many of the world’s greatest artists made a demolition derby of their lives, systematically wre

Sullivan’s Travels, the Preston Sturges movie from 1941, tells the story of John L. Sullivan (Joel McCrea), not the boxer, but a Hollywood director of highly successful light comedies. He is determined to change his image by adapting a ponderous social-message novel entitled O Brother, Where A

Road maps provide a wonderful metaphor for life. The thick double line of the Interstate marks the quickest, most direct route to our destination, but a nearly infinite number of blue and red side roads offer unimagined possibilities. By choosing the safe, direct route, we miss a great many of life&

Pity poor Kansas! Deposited there in the dead center of the country, propping up Nebraska and oppressing Oklahoma, the state has been typecast by Hollywood screenwriters. When a poor girl gets bonked on the head, she hies out of Kansas as fast as her red slippers or white sneakers will carry her. Ev

This summer radio listeners in the Boston area have had a steady diet of ads for a touring company of Peter Pan. The attention-grabber is a line from its most familiar song: I won’t grow up; I don’t want to go to school. Great fun for all the family. Günter Grass, however, might have be