On the latest three episode installment of Black Mirror.
I was on the periphery of Elton John Mania. (And Rocketman’s awful.)
Please have a little himpathy.
Oscar the Grouch over Barney any day of the week.
You’ll long for the excesses to which you grew so accustomed on Gossip Girl.
Aretha at 29, and my teenage friend Elena Seibert.
Aziz Ansari's working again.
Good thing this isn’t serious.
Howard Stern Comes Again caps a decade full of failed attempts at mainstream acceptance.
This radical, deceptive show, the greatest study of emptiness on television, doesn’t let any of the debris go to waste.
Surviving the opening night of Avengers: Endgame.
FTL, Y’all is a strong collection, testimony to the amount of talent emerging in comics.
No one’s written a definitive analysis of his importance.
No—the world is our rage room, and you are our targets.
As long as we’re not hurting people, we should be able to do whatever the fuck we want.
There are things more twisted than Riggleman.
Some of Brooker's ideas can be followed like trails into recent quandaries.
His films rarely have moments of peace and unity.
The Bling Mac dropped off radar.
Leonardo may have sexually abused a young boy.
How not to be responsible with great power.
Brief documentary featuring the legendary gossip columnist.
The latest in a five year string of excellent film and cultural criticism from Renegade Cut.
A soap commercial directed by Ingmar Bergman featuring Andersson's first on screen appearance.
Oh my stars!
Living legend best known for her role as tut-tutting Jessica Fletcher on Murder, She Wrote in a puff piece interview for Australian TV recorded last fall.
Manhattan’s packed for the holidays, but no one’s there.
An episode from 1972, when talk shows let people talk.
The FDA’s menthol cigarette prohibition plan is patronizing to African-Americans.
The Boston Red Sox are charming, just like John Waters.