A magazine peopled almost entirely by those who think Debrett’s New Guide to Etiquette and Modern Manners is full of genuinely useful advice.
Mozart was fond of “scatological smut” and found “the sound of rude words especially hilarious”.
Critic’s Notes by Mark Lawson.
Call me a lefty conspiracy theorist if you must, but it has not escaped my notice that the trend for posh porn has coincided with the term of the poshest government in living memory.
Shows like Pointless satisfy a new itch - to gawp at those who don't know obvious things, like what toast is. It's hardcore ignorance porn at its best.
I found it easy to keep my nostalgia in check. Tampering with evidence? Fitting up? Weird comments about “menopausal” shoplifters? No, thanks.
Antonia Quirke on Radio.
The Fall continues to be shot through with imagery that subtly (and often not so subtly) connects violence against women with sex.
A running commentary by Ricky Hatton and fellow boxers to mark the 40th anniversary of the super-fight, in what turned out to be a brilliantly conceived and delivered programme
It’s as if two sixth formers had watched a few old DVDs – The Dick Emery Show, Rising Damp, the odd episode of Bottom or Alan Partridge – then written down the first thing that came into their heads.
A community of tattoo artists in Copenhagen vehemently reject the swastika’s associations with all things menacing and want to “reclaim the symbol” as a deeply ancient emblem of well-being and peace.
The plot reared up and hissed like a snake. Improbabilities. Coincidences. Unlikely connections. A frenzied cheesiness suddenly infected the storytelling.
Antonia Quirke on radio.
Having listened to the show for three weeks, I am repeatedly struck by its unusually fluctuating tone.
Cruickshank seems unable to speak in anything other than an urgent whisper while Graham-Dixon has the kind of face that looks particularly good rounding the top of a stone spiral staircase on a cold March morning.
An interesting tension exists in the film between that grunginess and passages of intense beauty. It is a compliment commonly paid to well-shot films to say that any one of their frames could be hung in a gallery. This is unmistakably the case here.
No thanks – I really don’t want to take part in the “Identity Parade” on Never Mind the Buzzcocks.
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.
From baseball to the Roosevelts, the film-maker Ken Burns has devoted a career to resurrecting America’s history.
The tenderly shaped ten-minute broadcast included an interview with the California highway patrolman who had taken Dean to task over speeding. Two hours later, Dean was dead.
Violent scenes on TV form part of a wider picture of how the media portrays women: as degraded, objectified and patronised victims.
Do people really do this stuff? Apparently, they do.
Author and one-time cabby Michael Goldfarb recalled how he’d been behind the wheel to pay for acting lessons, studying under Marlon Brando’s dauntless mentor Stella Adler.
Gotham follows an established formula in applying to fictional CVs the nostalgic-ironic tactics of TV archive series such as Before They Were Famous.
For this programme, Channel 4’s team used 60 remote-controlled cameras and five roving crews to film what really goes on inside a police station.
Following on from the global success of A History of the World in 100 Objects, Neil MacGregor is back with a new 30-part series.
Marvellous, the world’s least-likely biopic, reminds us of the power of kindness.
Cilla Black’s story is not exactly on-the-edge-of-your-seat exciting, for all that she knew the Beatles.
In southern Sicily you often hear Maria in the background in shops, like an ongoing soap opera: the live Mass from Medjugorje, where there have been apparitions of the Madonna since 1981, or the replaying of news from Radio Vaticana.