Horror ensues as the candidates attempt to make and sell scented candles.
The aim of the voyage, and the play inspired by it, is to make “the unseen seen” and enhance understanding of what the chemicals we put into the sea and our own bodies are actually doing.
Central character Laila is hounded by reminders that she’s different, but refreshingly, never accepts this herself.
I can understand the logic of opening a branch of Dirty Burger in Shoreditch – but Vauxhall? Although the spirit of gentrification is taking up residence here, the fact remains the place is still what is scientifically termed a shithole.
All over London, men who should know better are going on the lash and then claiming that they’d been with me, simply in order to remove all notions of their own agency or responsibility.
The vilification of Islam has reached such heights that when the Muslim Sultan Mehmet II is cast opposite history’s bloodiest psycho-tyrant, it’s Dracula who emerges as the tragic hero.
It’s time we recognised that Quentin Tarantino’s much-lauded movie is about nothing, says nothing and makes you feel nothing.
Most fizzy drinks are vile, yet some of those still do duty as mixers – the point here being, presumably, to cancel out one horrible taste with another.
Suzanne Moore’s weekly column, Telling Tales.
For every stab at dirty realism in Fury, there is a sanitising touch to make everything clean again.
With its 1990s Cher wigs, glossy modern make-up and Disneyfied London, even a lustful Samuel Pepys can’t save ITV’s The Great Fire.
Tom Humberstone’s weekly comic.
Egotism and self-flagellation.
From baseball to the Roosevelts, the film-maker Ken Burns has devoted a career to resurrecting America’s history.
On self and voice in new novels by Rachel Cusk and Will Eaves.