Tag Archives | Canada

Joe

It is rather the How, or the What, that arrests—the Act, the Thing—and that mysterious tipping point where all the reasons—serious or trivial, long-standing or spontaneous—give way to plot, to considerations of method, timing, even of theatre. This must be the point of supreme danger . . .

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Butterfly

The dancers’ body paint ran under the hot lights and, afterwards, in the lobby, listening to working-class Italians from Bensonhurst, I first divined that a passion for an art form entails close critical attention and cold discriminations. These stern, brick-laying, bocce-playing critics thought Radames was not on form that night.—

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House of Cards

In the runup to the recent Ontario elections we happened to find ourselves addicted to watching House of Cards, both the original British series—an elegant black comedy—and the American one—Shakespearean in ambition and reach. Meditations on power and its corollaries, the idea seems to be that every human society has a quotient of monsters of […]

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Cat’s Eye

The August 16 /23 Times Literary Supplement arrived, the top half of the cover visible under the plastic sleeve, and one immediately recognized, merely from the eyes peering out from just above the fold, the mandarin gaze of Margaret Atwood. A curiously Chinese face, like Pierre Elliott Trudeau’s. What the suave prime minister and the […]

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