Halpert really does seem like a 21st-century figure: unimpeachably “woke” before the term existed, tireless in her defense of the marginalized.
“Motherless Brooklyn” is the “La La Land” of film noir.
He seems to believe that pointing out the Greek framework undergirding some recent event is the same as saying something of substance about it.
“This is a hard, bitter book, full of feelings most people lack the courage to acknowledge.”
In various Spike Lee Joints, Jews have been scapegoats, turncoats, victims, allies, bystanders, exploiters, and friends.
Winogrand was the Augie March of American photography.
Even in his most harebrained projects, Cohen couldn’t help being cool.
This may be the least exciting book ever written about taking to the streets, but I don’t mean that as an insult.
Rosler seems to have converted to an inflexible sect of conceptual art, which sounds suspiciously like the thing she thought she was fleeing.
Kubrick was, by most accounts, a nervous, quiet kid. He was also sharp and undeniably gifted with a camera.