Review
Sara Baume’s sophomore novel insists that we rethink the value of empathy: depend on it, yes, but also be suspicious.
J.S. Bach has been subjected to every imaginable kind of transcription, but the combination of mandolin, bass, and cello is probably new.
While calling this Ben Wheatley’s most violent film may be debatable, Free Fire is absolutely the one most riddled with gunshots.
What could easily have become a dense, jargon-filled work of cultural psychology instead reads like a thoughtful conversation.
Martín Espada’s lyricism sings deeply in the key of loss, turning the anguish of social and personal histories into hope.
Was this trip really necessary?
Paradise‘s central conflict and the performances in the Underground Railway Theater production are damn good.
Klaus Merz’s cunning, compressed prose invites us to listen for the sounds of the inexpressible, the other side of life.
Writer-director Nacho Vigalando blows to bits his love story and morphs his movie into a totally bonkers horror flick.
Mitsuko Uchida is quite possibly the finest Mozart pianist around today, at least among non-period specialists.
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