It gave all of us — including Alex Jones, flat-earthers, lizard-people conspiracists, even Rachel Maddow — a new way to see (or not see) everything.
Finally, the Oscars look like America: in total disagreement with itself.
A particular kind of movie about black and white America may have, at long last, run its course.
Not long ago, an event like the Kavanaugh hearing two days before the season premiere would have seemed heaven-sent. Things work differently today.
He was a comedy king and the most commercially successful Broadway playwright in the history of the form.
In firing Gunn, Disney’s equating the merely tasteless with the actually dangerous.
It was awkward and overcalculated, but in its unscripted moments, a theme emerged. (Thanks, Frances McDormand.)
What will win? And why would it win? This year, it feels like anything could happen.
It wasn’t the most suspenseful or funny show, but it felt cohesive, a glimpse not just at women, but at a community of women working in unison.
But between Trump, Harvey, and everything else, good luck guessing which moment to speak to.
We didn’t vote for him. But we know that, on some level, he is ours.
He’s the most unlikely spokesman for a nation baffled and frustrated by Trump and the Republican Congress in 2017.
If directors are always heroes and writers are always hacks, how is it possible to figure out if a script is good?
The song is an anthem that turns the abrogation of personal responsibility into a posturing statement of empowerment.
Trump parallels in movies and TV will soon be intentional instead of just coincidental.
And should playwrights get a posthumous say in who performs their work?
Over the last two months, the movie has messed with the industry’s head, and with America’s.
The new politicization of TV.
And journalists who sully his reputation are failing at their jobs.
The inauguration standoff is also a preview of what the creative class will face over the next four years.