
Tokyo Story
The quiet masterpiece of ordinary life: Ozu finds the ache of a whole century in parents visiting children who have no time for them, and it will find you too.

The quiet masterpiece of ordinary life: Ozu finds the ache of a whole century in parents visiting children who have no time for them, and it will find you too.

Two tramps wait by a tree on a country road for a man who sends word each evening that he will come tomorrow. Beckett stripped drama to this and it never went back.

Mizoguchi's ghost story is the one other directors mention when asked what changed them: two peasants chase money through a civil war, and the crossing through fog is unearthly.

A lyric dictated from a car seat, one last Nashville session, and six weeks at country number one.

Suspense does not get more physical than this: four desperate men drive truckloads of nitroglycerin over mountain roads, and every rut in the surface becomes an ordeal.

Bacon took Velázquez's composed pope and set him screaming behind a curtain of falling paint. He never saw the original in person.

Men in bowler hats hang in the sky over the rooftops at even intervals, neither falling nor floating, which is somehow the unsettling part.

The western seen entirely through a small boy's worship, which is the honest way to look at it: a gunfighter tries to stop being one and cannot.

Salem, 1692: girls caught dancing in the woods begin naming witches, and the town learns that an accusation cannot be answered. Miller wrote it while Congress hunted Communists, and audiences understood immediately.

"I am an American, Chicago born," Augie announces, and the novel loosened its collar. He takes every job and every mentor the Depression offers him and refuses to be claimed by any.

Milosz, a Polish poet who served the new regime and then defected, explains how intelligent people talked themselves into Stalinism. Ketman, he calls it: believing one thing and professing another.

Montag burns books for a living until a neighbor's questions and a woman who chooses to burn with her library break him open. Bradbury's target is a public that stopped wanting to read.

Smith, Malthus, Marx, Veblen and Keynes written as characters, obsessions and bad ideas intact. Nearly four million copies have sold, and generations took their economics from this rather than a textbook.

John Grimes turns fourteen in Harlem in 1935 and spends the night on a storefront church floor, fighting for salvation. Baldwin pours the sins of three adults into that one boy's conversion.

Audrey Hepburn became a star overnight and Dalton Trumbo wrote the script while blacklisted: a princess slips her handlers for one unscheduled day in Rome, with a reporter who knows who she is.

Grant crossed the Rapidan in May 1864 and the killing never paused. Catton follows the Union's Army of the Potomac through the Wilderness and Cold Harbor to Appomattox, writing from inside the ranks.

The kiss in the surf was scandalous enough to define the decade: Pearl Harbor sits at the end of it, and Sinatra took a role for almost nothing to save his career.

Jesse Stone's song, cut once McPhatter rebuilt the group from scratch, topped the R&B chart for eleven weeks.

Wilder made a POW comedy in 1953 and refused to soften the Americans in it: a barracks works out that somebody inside is trading information to the Germans, and starts looking around.
Recorded live with Henri René's orchestra in October 1953, and Kitt's purr makes every extravagant request land.
What is your aim in philosophy?-To show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle.

In a dead Provencal valley a shepherd pushes acorns into the ground, one at a time. Thirty years and two wars later the forest holds ten thousand people who never learn his name.

Burroughs reports his heroin years like a chemist writing up an experiment, from New York hustles to Mexico City rooms and cures that never take. There is no remorse and no lyricism.

Five people and a mountain, and no town or fort anywhere in it: Anthony Mann pushed James Stewart into playing a bounty hunter with nothing likable left, shot entirely outdoors.