Harvey Blume
“Hanoi’s War” deserves far more attention than it has thus far received. It enriches our understanding of the War in Vietnam and by implication, subsequent American commitments, including the war in Afghanistan.
The director of THE MASTER, Paul Thomas Anderson, runs toward Scientology as fast as he runs away from it and its top guns (Tom Cruise did visit the set to lodge a few complaints).
If you try to take Camille Paglia seriously, despite the occasional insight you might find along the way, in the end it’s impossible to avoid the suspicion that you’ve made a category error.
The truth is that protests against the mosque did not mention parking. Protestors fumed about the threat of shariah law. Parking is a real issue in Sheepshead Bay, the threat of shariah law a figment of bad imaginations.
What percentage art? What percentage terrorist attack?
Unlike the rock star supporters of Pussy Riot, Garry Kasparov lives in Moscow, which means, given how the Putin regime has dealt with critics, he has a lot more to fear than, say, Madonna, who nevertheless should be applauded for speaking out at her Moscow concert.
Dissident artist Ai Weiwei speaks for an alternate China, another possibility for it. In a sense, he is the anti-Mao. Alison Klayman’s “Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry” is an essential introduction to his work to date.
Art and science rebuffed each other in this show. Visitors are unlikely to leave with either a greater understanding of cosmology or of Josiah McElheny’s art.
As monster fiction, “Vlad” has hints, now and then, of what “Talulla Rising” doesn’t aspire to. In the former, Carlos Fuentes peels back the familiar to provide glimpses of the genuinely horrific.
Here you have it: Werewolves are horny, vamps merely thirsty. This, to be sure, is material to work with, as novelist Glen Duncan does. But I can’t help thinking about great nineteenth-century novels of involuntary transformation.
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