The hardest part of creating a new musical is writing good songs. A good tune will let audiences forgive a host of ills in the book and sets and costumes. So if you begin by plundering the vaults of George and Ira Gershwin, your task should be much easier. Nice Work If You Can Get It proves that it's not.
Kanye must like Kim, because Kanye doesn't do publicity for publicity's sake. Or, to put it another way: Kanye's fling with Kim couldn't possibly be a publicity stunt, because Kanye has no idea how to manipulate the press. What? Let's take Kanye's peculiar brand of jack-assery, to quote Obama. After...
Is the free market really free? Or does it come at the expense of civic values we neglect at our peril? That's one of many questions I found myself pondering after reading What Money Can't Buy by Michael J. Sandel.
I mean, what if "the bomb" dropped and wiped out Barry Diller, Mike
Nichols, Diane Sawyer, Anna Wintour, or the distinguished cast of the current cultural historical Broadway hit "Death of a Salesman"?
The Island President stars Mohamed Nasheed, the first democratically elected president of the Maldives. Until Nasheed was deposed in what his supporters describe as a coup, he was a leading voice in the fight to stop global warming and rising seas which threaten his homeland.
So what if each and every commuter became so productive? Imagine the challenge of focusing and drawing on a crowded subway during rush hour. Each of us has been bumped, grinded against, ridiculed by a passerby moonlighting as a diva, or serenaded by a vet.
French sociologist Emile Durkheim gave a name to crowd loneliness: "anomie." That state of mind was believed to be often at the root of social unrest. So this condition is not altogether new, but the Internet may have amped it up a few notches.
In The World Before Her, Canadian-based filmmaker Nisha Pahuja takes the audience on a voyage into the apparently contradictory worlds of the glamorous Miss India contest and the militant Durgha Vahini camps.
In the case of Trayvon Martin, we have to unite and remember that it isn't about race, but rather justice for a dead teenage boy whose only crime was walking home with a bag of skittles and an iced tea.
Comparing memes to poetry is enough to make any poetry teacher cringe -- a few of mine probably will, after reading this. Poetry is inherently deep and memes are inherently shallow! Right? But I think the reason we gravitate toward poetry and gravitate toward Internet memes is analogous.
Inside the question of whether gratuitous mayhem is a strategic element of pro football is a question of a different kind. It involves former Saints standout Steve Gleason and a filmmaker, Sean Pamphilon, who's making a documentary about Gleason's struggle with ALS.
While watching Theresa Rebeck's searing and funny play, Seminar, about an unethical but brilliant celebrity editor named Leonard giving a $5,000 a pop seminar to wannabe writers, I was haunted by the memories of a few of the writing instructors I had.
It's a sad day for the Big Six publishers -- but not because they're in a bitter race to the bottom. It's sad because of their thinking. These publishers would rather close the doors and slash their staff than innovate in a changing market.
Though a majority of the backlash stems from racism claims and jealousy towards 25-year-old creator/director/writer/star Lena Dunham, the thing I couldn't get past in the first episode of "Girls" was a cupcake.
I love hearing stories about people who take risks to make life-changing deals. Wasn't it Donald Trump who once said, "Deals are my art form. Other people paint beautifully on canvas or write wonderful poetry. I like making deals, preferably big deals. That's how I get my kicks"?
These reality shows send the same message: no matter how much you dress us up or how much money we may have, underneath it all for every woman of color is a finger-pointing, profanity-using stereotype ready to solve any dispute with physical violence because that's how we "keep it real."
The good thing about "Despicable B" is that the writers have apparently wised up to the fact that Blair's had totally bipolar characterization for a while now, and I guess it's better late than never to address that imbalance.
Where were we? San Diego? Strange place. Nice place. Very hot. Not much else to say about it really. It was an in and out job. The gig was a bit... a bit... a bit... I'm searching for a word here and I can't find it... a bit meh? That's what you young people say innit?
The power of The McEuen Sessions has nothing to do with my family, and everything to do with the McEuens, who have created a true family album that reflects the musical experiences of a few lifetime. There are too many highlights here to mention.
Regardless of how difficult each of us gay men had it growing up, we all had a sense that we were "different." We listen and identify with icons like Judy because through their voices we can silence the one we hear inside ourselves that tells us we're wrong for being who we are.
Bethenny not-at-all tastelessly pointed out Brynn's lollipop technique, discussed her feelings calmly without the supervision (and drugs) provided by Dr. A. and had a birthday much more enjoyable than last year's fiasco.