#christopher-moynihan

#christopher-moynihan

The point of cinematic realism is the inner life, and the miracle of movies is their power to portray subjectivity, though few filmmakers manage to attain that power—even despite their best efforts.

"Cinematic Immunity" offers a workers'-eye view of Hollywood on the Hudson, revealing the intricate dynamics of filmmaking in New York City from 1954 to 9/11.

Under the ABS challenge system, a team begins each game with two challenges. If a player gets an umpire's call overturned, their team retains the challenge. In effect, this means a team has unlimited challenges until they get two wrong.

Wallace Shawn's new play, What We Did Before Our Moth Days, opens with a provocative monologue about a 25-year-old's relationship with a 13-year-old girl, challenging societal norms.

ARMY Twitter was aflutter with accusations that the warm-up comic for The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon made a racist joke. He said, 'Anybody here from the North? No? Nobody?' Fans interpreted that as being directed at the band, implying that one of them was from North Korea.

His writing is incredible. The characters are real. There's so much for actors to dig into. To be able to write that way and to connect with people, you're operating on a higher plane.

I don't want to be working in ballet, or opera, or things where it's like, Hey, keep this thing alive, even though like no one cares about this any more. Chalamet said in a recorded conversation for Variety, expressing his reluctance to participate in art forms he perceives as lacking contemporary audience engagement and cultural relevance.

I don't want to be working in ballet or opera things where it's like 'Hey, keep this thing alive,' even though it's like no one cares about this anymore. All respect to the ballet and opera people out there.

John Slattery, 63, moved to an apartment on Bank Street in the West Village after marrying the actress Talia Balsam in 1998. At the time, he had established himself as a character actor.

A new production of iconic drama at Berkeley Repertory Theatre, starring television and film stars Wanda De Jesus and Jimmy Smits and given a masterful directing vision by David Mendizabal, is a marvel. The stakes are raised as members of a destroyed Puerto Rican family in Ohio live inside the fallout of horrible choices.

A woman's relationship with Trader Joe's is abstract. It's like the way women see Trader Joe's, it's the way the aliens from 'Arrival' view time. Unlike most men—who make a beeline straight for the same blue-corn tortilla chips that have been there since pre-Obama—women swan dreamily through the store, guided by their foremothers toward the strangest possible products.

Dilara, the protagonist of this début novel, is consumed by the absence of a stable home in her life. She and her family flee Turkey, where she is from, after a failed coup in 2016. When they end up in Italy, something inexplicable happens: Dilara's bathroom transforms into a cell in an infamous prison on the outskirts of Istanbul.

I like to touch people,

I'm most at peace at our place in Kangaroo Valley, a couple of hours south of Sydney - we have 12 acres of native Australian semi-rainforest. If I'm five hours into a day of trying to get rid of the weeds from a copse of trees, I'm pretty fucking happy, especially if my kids and my wife are helping me.

If you were an immigrant kid in New York at the turn of the twentieth century, the candy store was the center of your world. You went there to kibbitz and schmooze, to get away from the crush of tenement life and the glare of the beat cop, and, of course, to eat sweets-Tootsie Rolls and Chicken Feeds and as many chocolate pennies as a copper one could buy.

I started getting the sense it was maybe opera or ballet or something, it's kind of like a dying art form or something. No 'woe is me' thing, but you start working on movies, you start acting, pursuing your thing.

"Heated Rivalry," a low-budget Canadian series that began streaming on HBO Max late last year, quickly made the leap from unexpected word-of-mouth success to full-blown cultural phenomenon. The show, which follows a pair of professional hockey players who fall for each other, has been name-checked by everyone from the N.H.L. commissioner to Zohran Mamdani; its two young leads, Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie, just served as Olympic torch-bearers.

A crack of thunder, a flash of light, and a sulfurous mist flooded my apartment. Marax, President of Hell, stood before me. Marax entered my summoning circle, eyes burning with unholy fire, and I gave him the stack of homework to flip through while I brushed my teeth. Marax marked up the papers and fleshed out my bullet points into thoughtful feedback before I even got to my molars. Then-three hours of my life, saved!-I banished him back to Hell.

You are leaving work, your suit still damp from the morning's downpour, the skin on your palms peeling. You are clutching two supermarket bags, tins of cream soup and tuna knocking against one another. The rain is hard and your anorak is cheap. You are on your way to Stockbridge, to your parents' house, which only your father inhabits now that your mother is gone.

Skip to main content Illustration by The New Yorker; Source photograph Michael Lionstar Listen and subscribe: Apple | Spotify | Google | Wherever You Listen Sign up to receive our weekly Books & Fiction newsletter. Joseph O'Neill reads his story Light Secrets, from the January 26, 2026, issue of the magazine. O'Neill is the author of a story collection and five novels, including Netherland, which won the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction in 2009, The Dog, and Godwin, which was published in 2024.

You might not thrill to the thing itself, but once you know that the genre-defining mime, Marcel Marceau, used his skills to entertain orphaned Jewish children while helping them to escape occupied France - the noiselessness of his act essential, as Nazi soldiers stalked the corridors of the trains to the Swiss border listening for runaways - then you at least have to respect what Marceau called "the art of silence."

Videos of these harrowing monologues, prerecorded by actors speaking in French, were projected onto a mysterious opaque box at the center of the performance space, as audience members listened through headphones and read English subtitles. Then venetian blinds shrouding the box slowly rose to reveal glass walls and, inside them, a sinister diorama-a replica of RTLM, or Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines, the radio station that fuelled the catastrophe.