Celebration of the “Hallmark holiday” is at an all-time low in the UK.
This film laments the way Winehouse's life was intruded upon while relying on the same methods to create drama.
Dear White People never exactly loosens up; the screenplay would make a good PhD thesis.
I wondered if there had ever been a lover. Had her parents been kind? When she cared for her ailing father, who had dominated whom?
“Sandra Bullock is quite simply the world’s most successful actress,” he informed Sandra Bullock.
Richard Dadd painted some dazzling visions abroad but found peace within the walls of Broadmoor.
This novel about the 1992 Los Angeles riots holds itself to a standard of verisimilitude – of the raw, unvarnished, authentic – that is is deeply immersive and deathly dull.
To dismiss him as a right-wing cigar-chomper would be to disregard that rare phenomenon – a true star, an embodiment of the aspirations of his time.
If sex in the past – in the sense of what people did to each other, in or out of bed – is notoriously hard to pin down, the larger history of sexuality and society is most rewarding.
Martins are in steep decline now, but once their mud-cup nests, slung under eaves, were a familiar sight across Britain.
This very enjoyable biography-cum-autobiography illuminates not just Federer’s place in tennis history but also the way in which the author converted his psychological problems into sporting fandom.
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