Journalists, and those engaged in White House Kremlinology, are now speculating that the Trumps’ marriage is all but over.
What does God look like? Or, more accurately, what do American Christians think he looks like?
The Labour MP on how he remade himself as a backbench rebel on Grenfell, Windrush and Brexit.
Michael Gove and Liam Fox engaged in what an informant gleefully calls “blazing rows”.
In Chechnya, for the past year LGBT+ people have been seized by state agents, detained without trial, tortured and, in some cases, murdered.
While the popular Ruth Davidson has transformed the position of the Scottish Tories, she has not transformed their personnel; meanwhile Labour lags a distant third.
Who are the English and what do they want? The Brexit vote has been described as an English revolt, what Orwell called a “tug from below”.
The Beatles had little interest in the making of Yellow Submarine. But, the animation in which they barely appear says far more about them than they could have predicted.
In an interrogation room in Syria, two members of the notorious “Beatles” terror cell joke about hostages and reminisce about life in “cosmopolitan” west London.
When Reagan shook hands with Gorbachev, a “spark of mutual trust” ignited between the two. Now, Trump warmly greets Kim Jong-un while spurning G7 allies.
Theresa May aspired to be a transformative prime minister and understood the need for change, but her tragedy is that she has been unable to deliver it. Worse, the Tories are directionless and divided.
It’s an astonishing play; if only the production weren’t turned up to 11 throughout.
A surprise album might be a trick we’ve seen from Beyoncé before (twice), but it’s no less thrilling this time around.
We already know that public school alumni dominate the system. But what about the movements that challenge it?
The President is Missing’s hero is an embattled Democratic president with “rugged good looks”. It’s not hard to see where Clinton got the idea.
Without its own code of manners, any social group would dissolve into anarchy.
Our obsession with creatures of flight, from Homer to Hamlet to Hitchcock.
The hardest part of attending an accidentally private gig, I learned, was knowing the applause etiquette and what to do with your face while being sung to.
Ronan Farrow’s War on Peace is a depressing, timely obituary for traditional American statecraft.
Vainglorious sexual antics, boastfulness and scorn for democracy: has the blackshirt spirit returned in Donald Trump?
It’s as though the ghost of Acker has taken possession of Laing, or a fugue-state Laing is escaping into the persona of Acker.
Not many writers come with lives as interesting as their books.
Diane Kruger is propulsive: but she has an instinct for subtlety that isn’t shared by her director.
As a young player he would super-companionably shake hands with the opposing team, even if they had just crucified his side, inviting them back to the pub for pies and pints.
Things have moved on: quinoa and protein shakes have taken the place of pies and puddings.
“You sound awfully ill,” I say solicitously, doing my best to provide a hint. I give up, and decide to drink myself to death.
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