The Oysters of Locmariaquer, published half a century ago, feels like a precursor to the work of Eula Biss and Leslie Jamison—minus the modern worry over the possible harm of such storytelling.
Ava DuVernay’s Selma is more analytical than the average biopic—a negotiation between complex and intersecting histories, rather than a simple dramatic restaging.
The Canadian comedy fixture on punk rock, drunk dads, and adapting his life for stage and screen.
In the Ant Colony author’s new book, a woman’s release from a hospital stay precipitates murder, mystery, and the urban stalking of a strange, mythical cat. Well … possibly, anyway.
The acclaimed (and playfully salty) filmmaker on the evolution of style, shooting in digital, and the limits and joys of making period pieces.
The Vanity Fair of today embodies a certain sort of lavishness—an often unironic appreciation of and yearning for rich people things. It wasn’t always this way.
All (well, some of) the books, music, films and TV shows Hazlitt’s staff found and enjoyed this year.
On clearing out your cultural backlog, one Breaking Bad binge-watch at a time.
On the insufficiency of numbers, black metal turned aggressively queer and danceable, and finding that certain brand of black cherry lipstick.
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