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Celine Song took on a difficult task in her effort to make a rom-com about pragmatic 30-somethings looking for love. "Materialists," the result of that effort, seems generated by a focus group, not a fantasy. "Materialists" was, to an extent, a step forward from her first
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How far would you go to escape your deepest well of pain? Then, what would you do if it followed you to the furthest place you could reach? These are the questions that shape “Solaris,” the 1972 film by Andrei Tarkovsky. A loose adaptation of the 1961 book of the
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Newsletter
Three days ago I wrote a piece about Turnstile, a band that I don’t like. I have regretted publishing that essay from the moment it went live. But I know that once something exists on the internet, you can’t get it back. Barring new developments about the topic
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In my late teenage years, I had a digital bootleg version of “SMiLE” that has now been lost to the graveyard of my old laptops. By that time, Brian Wilson had found it within himself to play the “SMiLE” songs live and by himself in London in 2002, but the
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A few years ago, David Byrne — a New York City mascot who once had a band — took a planned break during his Broadway run of “American Utopia” to ask everyone in the audience who had actually voted in the most recent local election. Of all the eligible local voters in
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Newsletter
On a rooftop in Brooklyn recently, Christopher Owens stood on stage with his guitar, a bouquet of flowers, and songs about sadness, solitude, and survival. “No, not another love song,” he sang with his head hanging, his signature stance. “Not one more song where I'm pretending everything will
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Over the weekend, I was scheduled to be a “guest host” on Staffcast, a podcast hosted by my friend, Richard Staff. Five years into our friendship, I really cannot believe how many jokes there are to be made about the name Richard Staff. This was supposed to be a big
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“There it is again, that funny feeling. That funny feeling.” – Bo Burnham A familiar sensation rose within me as the New York Knicks clawed their way into the Eastern Conference Finals. I’ve lived in Knicks City for more than a decade, but arrived here as a Warriors fan and
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My dog, Fisher, for whom I am but a sidekick with a credit card, was born to be a clown. The American Kennel Club describes his primary breed as such: “The Japanese Spitz are little comedians who want to make you happy and laugh.” Fisher turns 10 years old this
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Every Wednesday night I get the opportunity to ask myself an uncomfortable question: Why did I care so much about John Mulaney’s first marriage? The answer — that I held less regard for his pain than I did for his then-wife who seems a lot like me — puts me out
