Review
A trio of fine discs: Leonard Bernstein’s music for solo piano, Charlie Chaplin’s songs, and Charles Hubert Hastings Parry’s trios.
The Wind explores the fears that beset even strong, capable women stuck struggling for survival without community or social contact.
Benjamin Zander conducts a conspicuously fine Mahler Nine; François-Xavier Roth’s new account of Mahler’s Symphony no. 3 proffers nothing particularly special.
The series presents plausible, relatable social situations within a weird, dark, quasi-magical framework.
It’s Shakespeare in Lowell –the stage piled with ghostly corpses, the heroes all dead, the young bard in mourning.
If you’re the kind of person who coveted every word and wild-man gesture of inebriated Hunter S. Thompson, The Beach Bum could be your movie.
“ignorance about those who have disappeared/ undermines the reality of the world.” — Zbigniew Herbert
This consistently interesting novel adds an unforgettable dimension to an historical event about which we thought we knew all there was to know.
My mind is busy considering the presence of two distinctly engrossing thrillers of sex and violence set within the adult film industry, one a vividly romantic neo-giallo fairy tale, the other a discomfiting, tragicomic spiral into murder and depravity.
What elevates these ordinary lives is director Kent Jones’s elegiac distance; the narrative has the feel of a memory piece.
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