The news that we’re terrible at foreign languages is no shock. We already know we “speak English not very good,” and don’t need EU reminders.
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Knocked Up
Laugh all you want, but this is laughably bad, if not downright offensive.
No Reservations
Whatever's Hicks' bright idea, it's stale before even leaving the kitchen.
Sleuth
Branaugh's Mankiewicz remake has its moments, but not enough of them.
Jews Without Money
Michael Gold has written an partly-autobiographical screed about growing up as a Jew in Manhattan of 1900.
Land Of 8
China far enough north to dodge the monsoons and we'd beat the revaluation of yuan.
To the Castle and Back
Vaclav Havel is a one-man anecdote machine in this recollection of his Czech presidential years.
Between the lines
I wonder how Martin Cruz Smith’s Arkady gets through a day on cigarettes, sausage, fatback, bread — and vodka.
Little Stalker
Here's a fictionalized Woody Allen parody that's actually wonderfully funny.
A course in assets
Men's eyes slid downward to her upper assets — which refuse to lie down and disappear.
The Unknown Terrorist
Flanagan's hopelessly implausible terrorist yarn puts pole dancers and Bush-bashing in the same seething kettle.
Si ti queres sanu…’
Sardinia's array of guttural-sounding suffixes pre-date the language that Dante created.