A Hero’s Welcome
To read this straightforward and endearing memoir is to understand why its author would add his maternal grandparents to an honor roll of the rich and famous.
To read this straightforward and endearing memoir is to understand why its author would add his maternal grandparents to an honor roll of the rich and famous.
The world was a different place for writer-director Pavel Vogler when he arrived here from Poland six years ago.
In years past, the Sundance Film Festival — a two-week marathon of industry schmoozing, skiing and screenings in Park City, Utah — has served as the launching pad for Jewish independent cinema.
When David Mamet, the son of brilliant but emotionally abusive parents, was growing up in Chicago, his mother told him, according to The New Yorker profile of the playwright, \”I love you, but I don\’t like you.\”
Even for an international film producer and inveterate traveler, Arthur Cohn has covered a lot of territory recently.
\”There was no magic to our survival. It was sheer, pure, unadulterated luck, for men and women infinitely more worthy perished,\” Congressman Tom Lantos said at an advance screening of \”The Last Days.\”
When Roberto Benigni won the grand prize at Cannes for his Holocaust tragicomedy, \”Life is Beautiful,\” he rushed to the stage and kissed the feet of juror Martin Scorsese.
As part of the edgy juggling-magic-performance act The Mums, back in the 1980s, Albie Selznick ate razor blades, threw knives and produced doves from thin air while juggling torches.
While writing an aria based on a speech by Joseph Goebbels, for his 1991 opera, \”The Ghosts of Versailles,\” William M. Hoffman was visited by ghosts of his murdered family.
Before films such as \”Radio Days,\” Woody Allen had his television days.




