The most accurate depiction of Nazism isn’t Schindler’s List or The Pianist, but a 1942 comedy directed by a man renowned for sophisticated palaver. Trouble in Paradise shows how decidedly unheroic people adjust to terror, always conscious that a misplaced look or wrongly interpreted gesture will send them before a firing squad. It may be… More

The most accurate depiction of Nazism isn’t Schindler’s List or The Pianist, but a 1942 comedy directed by a man renowned for sophisticated palaver. Trouble in Paradise shows how decidedly unheroic people adjust to terror, always conscious that a misplaced look or wrongly interpreted gesture will send them before a firing squad. It may be… More

The owner of Total Wine & More utters a truism about South Florida’s evolving taste: “Wine’s a staple, like food,” he says. “People might put off building that larger kitchen, but they won’t stop buying food and beverages.” What recession? While shrewd, Fred Tasker’s article is content to merely allude to the resilience of wine’s… More

The owner of Total Wine & More utters a truism about South Florida’s evolving taste: “Wine’s a staple, like food,” he says. “People might put off building that larger kitchen, but they won’t stop buying food and beverages.” What recession? While shrewd, Fred Tasker’s article is content to merely allude to the resilience of wine’s… More

On the evidence of Mystic River and Gone Baby Gone, Dennis Lehane loves Sophocles. Since both adaptations of his novels include scenes in which a character describes The Evil That Men Do, I’m inclined to blame him for the hamhanded way in which Clint Eastwood and now Ben Affleck have staged them (all they need… More

You know, it’s my loss that I haven’t thought much about “Baby Be Mine.” It’s true that the right contemporary remix — by, say, Escort — would release MJ’s pent-up aching rivers (“Won’t you stay with me until the morning sun,” yow!). I also wonder whether the song was released at the wrong time. Would… More

Roy Scheider, R.I.P.

I saw Naked Lunch before Jaws and The French Connection, so my first acquaintance with Roy Scheider found him wearing a fuck-awful tan suit and crunching on dialogue like Kellogs cornflakes. A terrific Dr. Benway, in other words. When I finally saw All That Jazz a few months ago, I was shocked by how compelling… More Roy Scheider, R.I.P.

After months of playing “The Opposite of Hallelujah” at least twice a week, I’m officially sorry I underrated Jens Lekman’s Night Falls Over Kortedala. Cavils about his flat, doleful voice aside, I admire how the arrangements (those strings!) consistently undercut the bathos; in a few cases, they inflate the bathos, waiting for a well-timed lyric… More

“It’s seriously not funny when reedy-voiced dorks sing about beating you up. It’s just not. And when those jokes take the form of a laundry-list of wrestling moves, some of which I’m pretty sure don’t exist, it’s somehow even more galling” — yes, yes, YES. Breihan, testifying to what makes Hot Chip so goddamn annoying.… More