\”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.
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.\”
I remember the argument like it was yesterday. There I was, a 10-year-old kid growing up in a Reform congregation in Santa Monica, arguing with my best friend (another 10-year-old from the same synagogue) about the laws of kashrut for Pesach.
It\’s past midnight, and I can\’t sleep. I call a friend back in San Francisco, a scientist I know who is really good at thinking
Before films such as \”Radio Days,\” Woody Allen had his television days.
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.
Tongue of a Bird,\” now playing at the Mark Taper Forum, is a confoundedly difficult play.
It\’s common knowledge that the Jewish exodus from Russia in the late 1980s brought to Israel a flood of talented artists and musicians.
