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In the weeks since Pope Francis's passing, the internet has been flooded by papal memes, election analysis, and even close readings of the newly appointed Pope Leo XIV's own posts. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider why the moment has so captivated Catholics and nonbelievers alike. They discuss the online response and hear from the writer Paul Elie, who's been covering the event on the ground at the Vatican for The New Yorker. Then the hosts consider how recent cultural offerings, from last year's “Conclave” to the HBO series “The Young Pope,” depict the power and pageantry of the Church, with varying degrees of reverence. Leo XIV's first address as Pope began with a message of peace—an act that may have contributed to the flurry of interest and excitement around him. “The signs are hopeful,” Cunningham says. “And reasons to hope attract attention.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Francis, the TV Pope, Takes His Final Journey,” by Vinson Cunningham (The New Yorker)“White smoke, Black pope?,” by Nate Tinner Williams (The National Catholic Reporter)“The First American Pope,” by Paul Elie (The New Yorker)“Brideshead Revisited,” by Evelyn Waugh“Conclave” (2024)“Angels & Demons” (2009)“The Young Pope” (2016)“The Two Popes” (2019)Pope Leo XIII's “Rerum Novarum”New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
In a new installment of the Critics at Large advice hotline, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz field calls from listeners on a variety of cultural dilemmas, and offer recommendations for what ails them. Callers' concerns run the gamut from the lighthearted to the existential; several seek works to help ease the sting of the state of the world. “I can't say that we will solve those deeper issues,” Cunningham says. “But to share art with somebody is to offer them a companion.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:The New York Issue of The New Yorker (May 12 & 19, 2025)“Birds of America,” by Lorrie Moore“Eighth Grade” (2018)“Gilead,” by Marilynne Robinson“Danny, the Champion of the World,” by Roald Dahl“Midnight Diner” (2016-19)“Sentimental Education,” by Gustave Flaubert“Middlemarch,” by George Eliot“My Life in Middlemarch,” by Rebecca Mead“How the Method Made Acting Modern,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)Charles Schulz's “Peanuts”“First Reformed” (2017)“Better Things” (2016-22)“The Functionally Dysfunctional Matriarchy of ‘Better Things,' ” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)“Odes,” by Sharon OldsTJ Douglas's “Dying”Mozart's “The Magic Flute”“Peppa Pig” (2004—)Aaron Copland's “Billy the Kid”Dennis Wilson's “Pacific Ocean Blue”Caetano Veloso's “Ofertório”Crosby, Stills & Nash's début albumNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
The vampire has long been a way to explore the shadow side of society, and “Sinners,” Ryan Coogler's new blockbuster set in the Jim Crow-era South, is no exception. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss what “Sinners,” which fuses historical realism with monster-movie-style horror, illuminates about America in 2025. They trace the archetype from such nineteenth-century texts as “The Vampyre” and “Dracula” to the “Twilight” moment of the aughts, when Edward Cullen, an ethical bloodsucker committed to abstinence, turned the vampire from a predatory outsider into a Y.A. heartthrob. What do he and his ilk have to say today? “The vampire is the one who can unsettle our notions, and maybe give us new notions,” Cunningham says. “The vampire comes in and asks, ‘But have you considered this?' ” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Sinners” (2025)“Black Panther” (2018)“The Vampyre,” by John Polidori“In the Blood,” by Joan Acocella (The New Yorker)“Dracula,” by Bram Stoker“Dracula” (1931)“Love at First Bite” (1979)“The Lost Boys” (1987)“True Blood” (2008–14)“Twilight” (2008)“What We Do in the Shadows” (2019–24)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
For nearly as long as we've been waging war, we've sought ways to chronicle it. “Warfare,” a new movie co-directed by the filmmaker Alex Garland and the former Navy SEAL Ray Mendoza, takes an unorthodox approach, recreating a disastrous real-life mission in Iraq according to Mendoza's own memories and those of the soldiers who fought alongside him. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how “Warfare” 's visceral account brings us closer to a certain kind of truth, while also creating a space into which viewers can project their own ideologies. The hosts consider how artists have historically portrayed conflict and its aftermath—referencing Virginia Woolf's depiction of a shell-shocked soldier in “Mrs. Dalloway” and Vietnam-era classics such as “Apocalypse Now” and “Full Metal Jacket”—and how “Warfare,” with its emphasis on firsthand experience, marks a departure from much of what came before. “That personal tinge to me seems to be characteristic of the age,” Cunningham says. “Part of the emotional appeal is, This happened, and I'm telling you. It's not diaristic—but it is testimonial.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Warfare” (2025)“Apocalypse Now” (1979)“Full Metal Jacket” (1987)“Beau Travail” (1999)“Saving Private Ryan” (1998)“The Hurt Locker” (2008)“Zero Dark Thirty” (2012)“Barry” (2018–23)“Mrs. Dalloway,” by Virginia Woolf“In Flanders Fields,” by John McCraeNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
The tension between art and commerce is a tale as old as time, and perhaps the most dramatic clashes in recent history have played out in Hollywood. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz explore how moviemaking and the business behind it have been depicted over the decades, from Lillian Ross's classic 1952 work of reportage, “Picture,” to Robert Altman's pitch-black 1992 satire “The Player.” In “The Studio,” a new Apple TV+ series, Seth Rogen plays a hapless exec who's convinced that art-house filmmaking and commercial success can go hand in hand. At a moment when theatregoing is on the decline and the industry is hyper-focussed on existing I.P., that sentiment feels more naïve than realistic. And yet the show's affection for the golden age of cinema is infectious—and perhaps even cause for optimism. “Early auteurs were people who knew Hollywood and could marshal its resources toward the benefit of their vision,” Cunningham says. “I wonder if now is the time for people who are seasoned in the way of Hollywood to really think about how it can be angled toward making art.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Studio” (2025–)“Veep” (2012-19)“The Player” (1992)“The Pat Hobby Stories,” by F. Scott Fitzgerald“Picture,” by Lillian Ross“Why Los Angeles Is Becoming a Production Graveyard,” by Winston Cho (The Hollywood Reporter)The New Yorker's Oscars Live BlogNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
Gossip, an essential human pastime, is full of contradictions. It has the potential to be as destructive to its subjects as it is titillating to its practitioners; it can protect against very real threats, as in the case of certain pre-#MeToo whisper networks, or tip over into the realm of conspiracy. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider the role gossip has played in society over the centuries. They discuss Kelsey McKinney's new book on the topic, “You Didn't Hear This from Me,” which Schwartz recently reviewed in The New Yorker, and consider instructive cultural examples—from the Old Testament to “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.” Today, many celebrities have embraced being talked about as a badge of honor, even as new technologies allow questionable assertions about anyone—famous or otherwise—to spread more freely and quickly than ever before. “Just being in public makes you potentially fodder for gossip,” Schwartz says. “I do worry about a world in which privacy is compromised for everybody.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“You Didn't Hear This from Me: (Mostly) True Notes on Gossip,” by Kelsey McKinney“Is Gossip Good for Us?,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)“A Lover's Discourse,” by Roland Barthes“Grease” (1978)“The House of Mirth,” by Edith Wharton“The Custom of the Country,” by Edith Wharton“Moses, Man of the Mountain,” by Zora Neale Hurston“Emma,” by Jane Austen“Gossip Girl” (2007-12)“The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” (2010—)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
The first episode of “The Joe Rogan Experience,” released in 2009, consisted mostly of its host smoking weed, cracking jokes, and futzing with technical equipment. But Rogan quickly proved adept at the kind of casual, nonconfrontational interviews that have made the show such an enormous success in 2025: it regularly tops podcast charts and features hours-long conversations with the most powerful figures in politics. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz are joined by fellow staff writer Andrew Marantz to discuss where Rogan's podcast sits within a growing new-media ecosystem that hinges on parasociality. Marantz recently profiled the Twitch streamer Hasan Piker, who spends hours online every day addressing a viewership of tens or hundreds of thousands, to whom he issues leftist takes on the news in real time—alongside a healthy dose of gym content. Figures like Rogan and Piker, both of whom have won the loyalty of young men, stand to shape not only the views of their audiences but the art of politics itself. “Being able to hang in a kind of unscripted way. . . I think it just becomes more and more essential,” says Marantz. “There turns out to be a huge voting bloc of people who will, No. 1, vibe with you, and, No. 2, think about what you're saying.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:Joe Rogan's November, 2024 interview with Theo VonJoe Rogan's February, 2025 interview with Elon Musk“The Battle for the Bros,” by Andrew Marantz (The New Yorker)Hasan Piker's Twitch channel“This Is Gavin Newsom”New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
In 1939, reviewing the beloved M-G-M classic “The Wizard of Oz” for The New Yorker, the critic Russell Maloney declared that the film held “no trace of imagination, good taste, or ingenuity.” The use of color was “eye-straining,” the dialogue was unbelievable, and the movie as a whole was “a stinkeroo.” This take might shock today's audiences, but Maloney is far from the only critic to go so pointedly against the popular view. In a special live show celebrating The New Yorker's centenary, the hosts of Critics at Large discuss this and other examples drawn from the magazine's archives, including Dorothy Parker's 1928 takedown of “Winnie-the-Pooh” and Pauline Kael's assessment of Al Pacino as “a lump” at the center of “Scarface.” These pieces reveal something essential about the role of criticism and the value of thinking through a work's artistic merits (or lack thereof) on the page. “I felt all these feelings while reading Terrence Rafferty tearing to shreds ‘When Harry Met Sally…,' ” Alexandra Schwartz says. “But it made the movie come alive for me again, to have to dispute it with the critic.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Lies, Lies, and More Lies,” by Terrence Rafferty (The New Yorker)“Bitches and Witches,” by John Lahr (The New Yorker)“Don't Shoot the Book-Reviewer; He's Doing the Best He Can,” by Clifton Fadiman (The New Yorker)“The Feminine Mystique,” by Pauline Kael (The New Yorker)“The Wizard of Hollywood,” by Russell Maloney (The New Yorker)“The Fake Force of Tony Montana,” by Pauline Kael (The New Yorker)“Renoir's Problem Nudes,” by Peter Schjeldahl (The New Yorker)“Humans of New York and the Cavalier Consumption of Others,” by Vinson Cunningham (The New Yorker)“The Great Sadness of Ben Affleck,” by Naomi Fry (The New Yorker)“President Killers and Princess Diana Find Musical Immortality,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)“Obscure Objects of Desire: On Jeffrey Eugenides,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The Nation)“Reading ‘The House at Pooh Corner,' ” by Dorothy Parker (The New Yorker)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
For many of us, daily life is defined by a near-constant stream of decisions, from what to buy on Amazon to what to watch on Netflix. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider how we came to see endless selection as a fundamental right. The hosts discuss “The Age of Choice,” a new book by the historian Sophia Rosenfeld, which traces how our fixation with the freedom to choose has evolved over the centuries. Today, an abundance of choice in one sphere often masks a lack of choice in others—and, with so much focus on individual rather than collective decision-making, the glut of options can contribute to a profound sense of alienation. “When all you do is choose, choose, choose, what you do is end up by yourself,” Cunningham says. “Putting yourself with people seems to be one of the salves.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Could Anyone Keep Track of This Year's Microtrends?” by Danielle Cohen (The Cut)“The Age of Choice: A History of Freedom in Modern Life,” by Sophia Rosenfeld“The Federalist Papers,” by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay“What Does It Take to Quit Shopping? Mute, Delete and Unsubscribe,” by Jordyn Holman and Aimee Ortiz (The New York Times)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
“The Pitt,” which recently began streaming on Max, spans a single shift in the life of a doctor at an underfunded Pittsburgh hospital where, in the course of fifteen gruelling hours, he and his team struggle to keep up with a seemingly endless stream of patients. The show has been praised by lay-viewers and health-care professionals alike for its human drama and its true-to-life portrayal of structural issues that are rarely seen onscreen. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz parse how “The Pitt” fits alongside beloved medical shows like “E.R.” and “Grey's Anatomy.” While the new series upholds many of the tropes of the genre, it's set apart by its emphasis on accuracy and on the daily struggles—and rewards—of laboring toward a collective goal. At the heart of “The Pitt” is a question that, in 2025, is top of mind for many of us: does the for-profit medical system actually allow for humane care? “Faith in these institutions has eroded,” Schwartz says. “At the low point of such faith and trust, what happens to build it back?”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Pitt” (2025-)“E.R.” (1994-2009)“Grey's Anatomy” (2005-)“This Is Going to Hurt” (2022)“House” (2004-12)“The Bear” (2022–)Doctor Mike's YouTube channelSteveoie's YouTube channelNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
“Severance” is an office drama with a twist: the central characters have undergone a procedure to separate their work selves (“innies,” in the parlance of the show) from their home selves (“outies”). The Apple TV+ series is just the latest cultural offering to explore how the modern world asks us to compartmentalize our lives in increasingly drastic ways. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace the trope of the “double” over time, from its nineteenth-century origins in such works as “Jane Eyre” and “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” to the “passing” novels of the nineteen-twenties and thirties. Today's Oscar front-runners are rife with doubles, too, including those seen in the Demi Moore-led body-horror film “The Substance” and “The Apprentice,” in which a young Donald Trump fashions himself in the image of his mentor, Roy Cohn. At a time when technological advances and social platforms allow us to present—or to engineer—an optimized version of our lives, it's no wonder our second selves are haunting us anew. “I think the double will always exist because of the hope for wholeness,” Cunningham says. “It's such a strong desire that the shadow of that whole self—the doppelgänger—will always be lurking at the edges of our imagination.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Severance” (2022—)“The Substance” (2024)“A Different Man” (2024)“Frankenstein,” by Mary Shelley“The Apprentice” (2024)“Passing,” by Nella LarsenKey and Peele's sketch “Phone Call”“Jane Eyre,” by Charlotte Brontë“Lisa and Lottie,” by Erich KästnerWilliam Shakespeare's “As You Like It”“The Uncanny,” by Sigmund FreudEdmond Rostand's “Cyrano de Bergerac”New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
David Remnick is joined by Alexandra Schwartz, the co-host of the podcast Critics at Large, and The New Yorker's august film critic Richard Brody. They talk about the past year in film and predict the victors of the Academy Awards. Brody dismisses “The Brutalist”—a film that merely uses the Holocaust “as metaphor”—and tells Remnick that “Wicked” might win Best Picture. “I think there's a huge desire for cinematic comfort food that makes a billion dollars.” Continuing the Radio Hour's annual tradition, Brody discusses nominees and selects the winners of the coveted award that we call The Brody.
The first episode of “Saturday Night Live,” which aired in October of 1975, was a loose, scrappy affair. The sketches were experimental, almost absurdist, and the program was peppered with standup from the host, George Carlin, who freely addressed the hot-button issues of the day. “S.N.L.” turns fifty this year, and its anniversary has been marked by a slew of festivities, culminating in a three-hour special that aired this past weekend. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the show's origins, the recurring bits and cast members who've defined it over time, and whether, half a century on, it's still essential viewing. The anniversary special, which featured a star-studded guest list, celebrated an institution that, despite its countercultural roots, has become a finely tuned, star-making machine that plays to all fifty states. “This is what the show is about: getting famous people or soon-to-be famous people to play together in this sandbox,” Cunningham says. “The self-congratulation didn't play to me as a betrayal of the thing. No, this is a distillation of the thing.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Saturday Night Live” (1975–)Sabrina Carpenter and Paul Simon's cover of “Homeward Bound”“SNL50: Beyond Saturday Night” (2025)“Fifty Weird Years of ‘Saturday Night Live,' ” by Vinson Cunningham (The New Yorker)“Lorne: The Man Who Invented Saturday Night Live,” by Susan Morrison“How ‘Saturday Night Live' Breaks the Mold,” by Michael J. Arlen (The New Yorker)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
A few years back, novels classed as “romantasy”—a portmanteau of “romance” and “fantasy”—might have seemed destined to attract only niche appeal. But since the pandemic, the genre has proved nothing short of a phenomenon. Sarah J. Maas's “A Court of Thorns and Roses” series regularly tops best-seller lists, and last month, Rebecca Yarros's “Onyx Storm” became the fastest-selling adult novel in decades. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz are joined by their fellow New Yorker staff writer Katy Waldman as they delve into the realm of romantasy themselves. Together, they consider some of the most popular entries in the genre, and discuss how monitoring readers' reactions on BookTok, a literary corner of TikTok, allows writers to tailor their work to fans' hyperspecific preferences. Often, these books are conceived and marketed with particular tropes in mind—but the key ingredient in nearly all of them is a sense of wish fulfillment. “The reason that I think they're so powerful and they provide such solace to us is because they tell us, ‘You're perfect. You're always right. You have the hottest mate. You have the sickest powers,' ” Waldman says. “I totally get it. I fall into those reveries, too. I think we all do.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Did a Best-Selling Romantasy Novelist Steal Another Writer's Story?,” by Katy Waldman (The New Yorker)“The Song of the Lioness,” by Tamora Pierce“A Court of Thorns and Roses,” by Sarah J. Maas“Ella Enchanted,” by Gail Carson Levine“Fourth Wing,” by Rebecca Yarros“Onyx Storm,” by Rebecca Yarros“Crave,” by Tracy Wolff“Working Girl” (1988)“Game of Thrones” (2011-19)“The Vampyre,” by John Polidori“Dracula,” by Bram Stoker“Outlander” (2014–)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
David Lynch, who died last month at seventy-eight, was a director of images—one whose distinctive sensibility and instinct for combining the grotesque and the mundane have influenced a generation of artists in his wake. Lynch conjured surreal, sometimes hellish dreamscapes populated by strange figures and supernatural forces lurking beneath wholesome American idylls. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz revisit Lynch's landmark works and reflect on their resonance today. They discuss his 1986 film, “Blue Velvet”; the television series “Twin Peaks,” whose story and setting Lynch returned to throughout his career; and “Mulholland Drive,” his so-called “poisonous valentine to Hollywood.” Lynch's stories often resist interpretation, and the director himself refused to ascribe any one meaning to his work. In a way, this openness to multiple readings is at the heart of his appeal. “Reality, too, offers many unsolvable puzzles,” Cunningham says. “The artist who says, ‘I trust that if I offer you this, you will come out with something—even if it's not something that I programmed in advance'—that always gives me hope.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Eraserhead” (1977)“Blue Velvet” (1986)“Twin Peaks” (1990-91)“Mulholland Drive” (2001)“Dune” (1984)“Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me” (1992)“Twin Peaks: The Return” (2017)“David Lynch Keeps His Head,” by David Foster Wallace (Premiere)David Lynch's P.S.A. for the New York Department of Sanitation“Severance” (2022—)“David Lynch's Outsized Influence on Photography,” in ApertureComme des Garçons SS16Prada AW13David Lynch's Weather ReportsNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
Welcome to Season 2 of the Orthobullets Podcast. Today's show is Coinflips, where expert speakers discuss grey zone decisions in orthopedic surgery. This episode will feature doctors Charles Moon, Alexandra Schwartz, Shaun Patel & Julius Bishop. They will discuss the case titled "Femoral Neck Fracture in 53M." Today's episode will be sponsored by the 2025 California Orthopaedic Association Annual Meeting, taking place May 1st - 4th, 2025 in Universal City, CA. Follow Orthobullets on Social Media: Facebook Instagram Twitter Link
In 1954, a young David Attenborough made his début as the star of a new nature show called “Zoo Quest.” The docuseries, which ran for nearly a decade on the BBC, was a sensation that set Attenborough down the path of his life's work: exposing viewers to our planet's most miraculous creatures and landscapes from the comfort of their living rooms. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace Attenborough's filmography from “Zoo Quest” to his program, “Mammals,” a six-part series on BBC America narrated by the now- ninety-eight-year-old presenter. In the seventy years since “Zoo Quest” first aired, the genre it helped create has had to reckon with the effects of the climate crisis—and to figure out how to address such hot-button issues onscreen. By highlighting conservation efforts that have been successful, the best of these programs affirm our continued agency in the planet's future. “One thing I got from ‘Mammals' was not pure doom,” Schwartz says. “There are some options here. We have choices to make.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Mammals” (2024)“Zoo Quest” (1954-63)“Are We Changing Planet Earth?” (2006)“The Snow Leopard,” by Peter Matthiessen“My Octopus Teacher” (2020)“Life on Our Planet” (2023)“I Like to Get High at Night and Think About Whales,” by Samantha IrbyNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.This episode originally aired on July 11, 2024. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
Westward expansion has been mythologized onscreen for more than a century—and its depiction has always been entwined with the politics and anxieties of the era. In the 1939 film “Stagecoach,” John Wayne crystallized our image of the archetypal cowboy; decades later, he played another memorable frontiersman in “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance,” which questions how society is constructed. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace the genre from these cinematic classics to its recent resurgence, marked by big-budget entries including “American Primeval,” which depicts nineteenth-century territorial conflicts in brutal, unsparing detail, and by the wild popularity of Taylor Sheridan's “neo-Westerns,” which bring the time-honored form to the modern day. Sheridan's series, namely “Yellowstone” and “Landman,” often center on a world-weary patriarch tasked with protecting land and property from outside forces waiting to seize it. Sometimes described as “red-state shows,” these works are deliberately slippery about their politics—but they pull in millions of viewers from across the ideological spectrum. What accounts for this success? “Whether or not we want to be living in a Western,” Schwartz says, “we very much still are.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Yellowstone” (2018–24)“Landman” (2024—)“Horizon: An American Epic” (2024)“American Primeval” (2025—)“Stagecoach” (1939)“Dances with Wolves” (1990)“Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman” (1993–98)Laura Ingalls Wilder's “Little House on the Prairie” series“The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance” (1962)“Shōgun” (2024)“The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” (1948)“Oppenheimer” (2023)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
The first person is a narrative style as old as storytelling itself—one that, at its best, allows us to experience the world through another person's eyes. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace how the technique has been used across mediums throughout history. They discuss the ways in which fiction writers have played with the unstable triangulation between author, reader, and narrator, as in Vladimir Nabokov's “Lolita” and Bret Easton Ellis's “American Psycho,” a book that adopts the perspective of a serial killer, and whose publication provoked public outcry. RaMell Ross's “Nickel Boys”—an adaptation of Colson Whitehead's 2019 novel—is a bold new attempt to deploy the first person onscreen. The film points to a larger question about the bounds of narrative, and of selfhood: Can we ever truly occupy someone else's point of view? “The answer, in large part, is no,” Cunningham says. “But that impossibility is, for me, the actual promise: not the promise of a final mind meld but a confrontation, a negotiation with the fact that our perspectives really are our own.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Nickel Boys” (2024)“The Nickel Boys,” by Colson Whitehead“Lolita,” by Vladimir Nabokov“Meet the Director Who Reinvented the Act of Seeing,” by Salamishah Tillet (The New York Times)“Great Books Don't Make Great Films, but ‘Nickel Boys' Is a Glorious Exception,” by Richard Brody (The New Yorker)“Lady in the Lake” (1947)“Dark Passage” (1947)“Enter the Void” (2010)“The Blair Witch Project” (1999)Doom (1993)“The Berlin Stories,” by Christopher Isherwood“American Psycho,” by Bret Easton Ellis“The Adventures of Augie March,” by Saul Bellow“Why Did I Stop Loving My Cat When I Had a Baby?” by Anonymous (The Cut)“Harmony and Dissonance: Orphism in Paris, 1910-1930” at the Guggenheim MuseumNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
The Political Scene will be back next week. In the meantime, enjoy a recent episode from The New Yorker's Critics at Large podcast. Artists owe a great debt to ancient Rome. Over the years, it's provided a backdrop for countless films and novels, each of which has put forward its own vision of the Empire and what it stood for. The hosts Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the latest entry in that canon, Ridley Scott's “Gladiator II,” which has drawn massive audiences and made hundreds of millions of dollars at the box office. The hosts also consider other texts that use the same setting, from the religious epic “Ben-Hur” to Sondheim's farcical swords-and-sandals parody, “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.” Recently, figures from across the political spectrum have leapt to lay claim to antiquity, even as new translations have underscored how little we really understand about these civilizations. “Make ancient Rome strange again. Take away the analogies,” Schwartz says. “Maybe that's the appeal of the classics: to try to keep returning and understanding, even as we can't help holding them up as a mirror.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Gladiator II” (2024)“I, Claudius” (1976)“A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” (1966)“The Last Temptation of Christ” (1988)“Monty Python's Life of Brian” (1979)“Cleopatra” (1963)“Spartacus” (1960)“Ben-Hur” (1959)“Gladiator” (2000)“The End of History and the Last Man,” by Francis Fukuyama“I, Claudius,” by Robert Graves“I Hate to Say This, But Men Deserve Better Than Gladiator II,” by Alison Willmore (Vulture)“On Creating a Usable Past,” by Van Wyck Brook (The Dial)Emily Wilson's translations of the Odyssey and the IliadNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
In her new FX docuseries “Social Studies,” the artist and filmmaker Lauren Greenfield delves into the post-pandemic lives—and phones—of a group of L.A. teens. Screen recordings of the kids' social-media use reveal how these platforms have reshaped their experience of the world in alarming ways. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how the show paints a vivid, empathetic portrait of modern adolescence while also tapping into the long tradition of fretting about what the youths of the day are up to. The hosts consider moral panics throughout history, from the 1971 book “Go Ask Alice,” which was first marketed as the true story of a drug-addicted girl's downfall in a bid to scare kids straight, to the hand-wringing that surrounded trends like rock and roll and the postwar comic-book craze. Anxieties around social-media use, by contrast, are warranted. Mounting research shows how screen time correlates with spikes in depression, loneliness, and suicide among teens. It's a problem that has come to define all our lives, not just those of the youth. “This whole crust of society—people joining trade unions and other kinds of things, lodges and guilds, having hobbies,” Cunningham says, “that layer of society is shrinking. And parallel to our crusade against the ills of social media is, how do we rebuild that sector of society?”Listen to and follow Critics at Large here: http://swap.fm/l/tny-cal-feeddrop Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
Margaret Talbot, writing in The New Yorker in 2005, recounted that when animators at Pixar got stuck on a project they'd file into a screening room to watch a film by Hayao Miyazaki. Best known for works like “My Neighbor Totoro,” “Princess Mononoke,” and “Spirited Away,” which received the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, in 2002, he is considered by some to be the first true auteur of children's entertainment. On this episode of Critics at Large, the staff writers Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the themes that have emerged across Miyazaki's œuvre, from bittersweet depictions of late childhood to meditations on the attractions and dangers of technology. Miyazaki's latest, “The Boy and the Heron,” is a semi-autobiographical story in which a young boy grieving his mother embarks on a quest through a magical realm as the Second World War rages in reality. The Japanese title, “How Do You Live?,” reveals the philosophical underpinnings of what may well be the filmmaker's final work. “Wherever you are—whether it seems to be peaceful, whether things are scary—there's something happening somewhere,” Cunningham says. “And you have to learn this as a child. There's pain somewhere. And you have to learn how to live your life along multiple tracks.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Kiki's Delivery Service” (1989)“My Neighbor Totoro” (1988)“Old Enough!” (1991-present)“Princess Mononoke” (1997)“Spirited Away” (2001)“The Boy and the Heron” (2023)“The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” by C. S. Lewis (1950)“The Moomins series” by Tove Jansson (1945-70)“The Wind Rises” (2013)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.This episode originally aired on December 7, 2023. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
This year, high-profile failures abounded. Take, for example, Francis Ford Coppola's passion project “Megalopolis,” which cost a hundred and forty million dollars to make—and brought in less than ten per cent of that at the box office. And what was Kamala Harris's loss to Donald Trump but a fiasco of the highest order? On this episode of Critics at Large, recorded live at Condé Nast's offices at One World Trade Center, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz pronounce 2024 “the year of the flop,” and draw on a range of recent examples—from the Yankees' disappointing performance at the World Series to Katy Perry's near-universally mocked music video for “Woman's World”—to anatomize the phenomenon. What are the constituent parts of a flop, and what might these missteps reveal about the relationship between audiences and public figures today? The hosts also consider the surprising upsides to such categorical failures. “In some ways, always succeeding for an artist is a problem . . . because I think you retain fear,” Schwartz says. “If you can get through it, there really can be something on the other side.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:HBO's “Industry” (2020–) The 2024 World SeriesThe 2024 Election“Megalopolis” (2024)“Woman's World,” by Katy Perry“ ‘Woman's World' Track Review,” by Shaad D'Souza (Pitchfork)“Charli XCX, Chappell Roan, and the Unstable Hierarchy of Pop” (The New Yorker)“Tarot, Tech, and Our Age of Magical Thinking” (The New Yorker)“Kendrick Lamar, Drake, and the Benefits of Beef” (The New Yorker)“Am I Racist?” (2024)“Horizon: An American Saga—Chapter 1” (2024)“Apocalypse Now” (1979)“Madame Web” (2024)“The Great Gatsby,” by F. Scott FitzgeraldFugees“Moby-Dick,” by Herman Melville“NYC Prep” (2009)“Princesses: Long Island” (2013)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
The American musical is in a state of flux. Today's Broadway offerings are mostly jukebox musicals and blatant I.P. grabs; original ideas are few and far between. Meanwhile, one of the biggest films of the season is Jon M. Chu's earnest (and lengthy) adaptation of “Wicked,” the origin story of the Wicked Witch of the West that first premièred on the Great White Way nearly twenty years ago—and has been a smash hit ever since. On this episode, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss why “Wicked” is resonating with audiences in 2024. They consider it alongside other recent movie musicals, such as “Emilia Pérez,” which centers on the transgender leader of a Mexican cartel, and Todd Phillips's follow-up to “Joker,” the confounding “Joker: Folie à Deux.” Then they step back to trace the evolution of the musical, from the first shows to marry song and story in the nineteen-twenties to the seventies-era innovations of figures like Stephen Sondheim. Amid the massive commercial, technological, and aesthetic shifts of the last century, how has the form changed, and why has it endured? “People who don't like musicals will often criticize their artificiality,” Schwartz says. “Some things in life are so heightened . . . yet they're part of the real. Why not put them to music and have singing be part of it?”This episode originally aired on Critics at Large, December 12, 2024.
The American musical is in a state of flux. Today's Broadway offerings are mostly jukebox musicals and blatant I.P. grabs; original ideas are few and far between. Meanwhile, one of the biggest films of the season is Jon M. Chu's earnest (and lengthy) adaptation of “Wicked,” the origin story of the Wicked Witch of the West that first premièred on the Great White Way nearly twenty years ago—and has been a smash hit ever since. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss why “Wicked” is resonating with audiences in 2024. They consider it alongside other recent movie musicals, such as “Emilia Pérez,” which centers on the transgender leader of a Mexican cartel, and Todd Phillips's follow-up to “Joker,” the confounding “Joker: Folie à Deux.” Then they step back to trace the evolution of the musical, from the first shows to marry song and story in the nineteen-twenties to the seventies-era innovations of figures like Stephen Sondheim. Amid the massive commercial, technological, and aesthetic shifts of the last century, how has the form changed, and why has it endured? “People who don't like musicals will often criticize their artificiality,” Schwartz says. “Some things in life are so heightened . . . yet they're part of the real. Why not put them to music and have singing be part of it?”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Wicked” (2024)“The Animals That Made It All Worth It,” by Naomi Fry (The New Yorker)“Ben Shapiro Reviews ‘Wicked' ”“Frozen” (2013)“Emilia Pérez” (2024)“Joker: Folie à Deux” (2024)“ ‘Joker: Folie à Deux' Review: Make 'Em Laugh (and Yawn),” by Manohla Dargis (the New York Times)“Hair” (1979)“The Sound of Music” (1965)“Anything Goes” (1934)“Show Boat” (1927)“Oklahoma” (1943)“Mean Girls” (2017)“Hamilton” (2015)“Wicked” (2003)“A Strange Loop” (2019)“Teeth” (2024)“Kimberly Akimbo” (2021)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices
Artists owe a great debt to ancient Rome. Over the years, it's provided a backdrop for countless films and novels, each of which has put forward its own vision of the Empire and what it stood for. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the latest entry in that canon, Ridley Scott's “Gladiator II,” which has drawn massive audiences and made hundreds of millions of dollars at the box office. The hosts also consider other texts that use the same setting, from the religious epic “Ben-Hur” to Sondheim's farcical sword-and-sandal parody, “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.” Recently, figures from across the political spectrum have leapt to lay claim to antiquity, even as new translations of Homer have underscored how little we really understand about these civilizations. “Make ancient Rome strange again. Take away the analogies,” Schwartz says. “Maybe that's the appeal of the classics: to try to keep returning and understanding, even as we can't help holding them up as a mirror.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Gladiator II” (2024)“I, Claudius” (1976)“A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum” (1966) “The Last Temptation of Christ” (1988)“Monty Python's Life of Brian” (1979)“Cleopatra” (1963)“Spartacus” (1960)“Ben-Hur” (1959)“Gladiator” (2000)“The End of History and the Last Man,” by Francis Fukuyama“I, Claudius,” by Robert Graves“I Hate to Say This, But Men Deserve Better Than Gladiator II,” by Alison Wilmore (Vulture)“On Creating a Usable Past,” by Van Wyck Brook (The Dial)Emily Wilson's translations of the Odyssey and the IliadNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In her new FX docuseries “Social Studies,” the artist and filmmaker Lauren Greenfield delves into the post-pandemic lives—and phones—of a group of L.A. teens. Screen recordings of the kids' social-media use reveal how these platforms have reshaped their experience of the world in alarming ways. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how the show paints a vivid, empathetic portrait of modern adolescence while also tapping into the long tradition of fretting about what the youths of the day are up to. The hosts consider moral panics throughout history, from the 1971 book “Go Ask Alice,” which was first marketed as the true story of a drug-addicted girl's downfall in a bid to scare kids straight, to the hand-wringing that surrounded trends like rock and roll and the postwar comic-book craze. Anxieties around social-media use, by contrast, are warranted. Mounting research shows how screen time correlates with spikes in depression, loneliness, and suicide among teens. It's a problem that has come to define all our lives, not just those of the youth. “This whole crust of society—people joining trade unions and other kinds of things, lodges and guilds, having hobbies,” Cunningham says, “that layer of society is shrinking. And parallel to our crusade against the ills of social media is, how do we rebuild that sector of society?” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Social Studies” (2024)“Into the Phones of Teens,” by Naomi Fry (The New Yorker)“Generation Wealth” (2018)Marilyn Manson“Reviving Ophelia,” by Mary Pipher“Go Ask Alice,” by Beatrice Sparks“Forrest Gump” (1994)“The Rules of Attraction,” by Bret Easton Ellis“Less Than Zero,” by Bret Easton Ellis“The Sorrows of Young Werther,” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe“Seduction of the Innocent,” by Fredric Wertham“Has Social Media Fuelled a Teen-Suicide Crisis?,” by Andrew Solomon (The New Yorker)“The Anxious Generation,” by Jonathan Haidt“Bowling Alone,” by Robert D. PutnamNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
One of the most fundamental features of art is its ability to meet us during times of distress. In the early days of the pandemic, many people turned to comfort reads and beloved films as a form of escapism; more recently, in the wake of the election, shows such as “The Great British Bake Off” have been offered up on group chats as a balm. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider the value—and limits—of seeking solace in culture. Comfort art has flourished in recent years, as evidenced by the rise of genres such as“romantasy” and the “cozy thriller.” But where is the line between using art as a salve and tuning out at a moment when politics demands our engagement? “One of the purposes of the comfort we seek is to sustain us,” Schwartz says. “That's what we all are going to need: sustenance to move forward.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Crown” (2016-2023)“Sesame Street” (1969-)“The Great British Bake Off” (2010-)“In Tumultuous Times, Readers Turn to ‘Healing Fiction,' ” by Alexandra Alter (The New York Times)Charles Schulz's “Peanuts” (1950-2000)“Uncut Gems” (2019)“Somebody Somewhere” (2022-)“3 Terrific Specials to Distract You from the News,” by Jason Zinoman (The New York Times)“Tom Papa: Home Free” (2024)“America, Don't Succumb to Escapism,” by Kristen Ghodsee (The New Republic)“Candide,” by VoltaireBeth Stern's Instagram“Janet Planet” (2023)Marvin Gaye's “What's Going On”Donny Hathaway's “Extension of a Man”New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
The art of advice-giving, championed over the years by such figures as Ann Landers and Cheryl Strayed, has lately undergone a transformation. As traditional columns have continued to proliferate, social-media platforms have created new venues for those seeking—and doling out—counsel, from the users of the popular subreddit “Am I the Asshole” to the countless “experts” who peddle their takes on Instagram and TikTok. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz try their hands at the trade, advising listeners on a variety of cultural conundrums. The hosts trace the form from early examples such as Advice for Living, the short-lived column written by Martin Luther King, Jr., in the late nineteen-fifties, through to the Internet age. The genre has long functioned as a forum for parsing the ethics of the era, and its enduring appeal might be explained by our inherent curiosity about the way others live. “There is a sort of plurality of approaches to life itself, which means that we are all passing into and out of other people's moral universes,” Cunningham says. “I think it causes more trouble—causes more questions.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Witch Elm,” by Tana French“Crime and Punishment,” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky“Pride and Prejudice,” by Jane Austen“Intermezzo,” by Sally Rooney“The Guest,” by Emma Cline“I'm a Fan,” by Sheena Patel“My Husband,” by Maud Ventura“The Anthropologists,” by Ayşegül Savaş“Small Rain,” by Garth Greenwell“Brightness Falls,” by Jay McInerneyRichard Linklater's “Before” trilogyWilliam Shakespeare's “Hamlet”“Ghost World,” by Dan ClowesThe Ethicist (The New York Times)Dear Sugar (The Rumpus)“The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” by Robert Louis Stevenson“Lisa Frankenstein” (2024)“The Turn of the Screw,” by Henry James“Carrie,” by Stephen King“Little Labors,” by Rivka Galchen“Matrescence,” by Lucy Jones“The Mother Artist,” by Catherine Ricketts“Acts of Creation,” by Hettie Judahr/AmItheAssholeAdvice for Living (Ebony Magazine)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
“The Apprentice,” a new film directed by Ali Abbasi, depicts the rise of a young Donald Trump under the wing of the notorious lawyer Roy Cohn. The film is, in many ways, an origin story for a man who has overtaken contemporary politics. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the movie and other works that explore Trump's and Cohn's psychologies, from duelling family memoirs to documentaries. The sheer number of such texts raises the question: Why are we so interested in the backstories of people who have done wrong, and what do we stand to gain (or lose) by humanizing them? “Do we want to see our villains, our absolute villains—people who have caused much harm to the world—as weak little boys who've undergone trauma and have had their reasons for becoming the monsters they later turn into?” Fry asks. “Or do we not?”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Apprentice” (2024)“Who Could Ever Love You: A Family Memoir,” by Mary Trump“All in the Family: The Trumps and How We Got This Way,” by Fred C. Trump III“Where's My Roy Cohn?” (2019)“Roy Cohn and the Making of a Winner-Take-All America,” by Naomi Fry (The New Yorker)“Angels in America” (2003)“Joker” (2019)“Wicked” (2024)“Ratched” (2020)“Elephant” (2003)“Cruella” (2021)“The Sopranos” (1991-2007)“Mad Men” (2007-15)The “Harry Potter” novels, by J. K. Rowling“Paradise Lost,” by John Milton“Be Ready When the Luck Happens,” by Ina GartenNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In “The Substance,” a darkly satirical horror movie directed by Coralie Fargeat, Demi Moore plays an aging Hollywood actress who strikes a tech-infused Faustian bargain to unleash a younger, “more perfect” version of herself. Gruesome side effects ensue. Fargeat's film plays on the fact that female aging is often seen as its own brand of horror—and that we've devised increasingly extreme methods of combating it. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss “The Substance” and “A Different Man,” another new release that questions our culture's obsession with perfecting our physical forms. In recent years, the smorgasbord of products and procedures promising to enhance our bodies and preserve our youth has only grown; social media has us looking at ourselves more than ever before. No wonder, then, that horror as a genre has been increasingly preoccupied with our uneasy relationship to our own exteriors. “We are embodied. It is a struggle. It is beautiful. It's something to wrestle with forever. Just as you think that you've caught up to your current embodiment, something changes,” Schwartz says. “And so how do we make our peace with it?”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“A Clockwork Orange” (1971)“The Substance” (2024)“A Different Man” (2024)“Psycho” (1960)“The Ren & Stimpy Show” (1991-96)“The Bluest Eye,” by Toni Morrison“Passing,” by Nella Larsen“The Power of Positive Thinking,” by Norman Vincent Peale“Titane” (2021)“The Age of Instagram Face,” by Jia Tolentino (The New Yorker)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
From classic eighties films like “Wall Street” to Bret Easton Ellis's 1991 novel “American Psycho,” the world of finance has long provided a seductive backdrop for meditations on wealth and power. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the many portrayals of this élite realm, and how its image has evolved over time. Where earlier texts glorified Wall Street types as roguish heroes, the Great Recession ushered in more critical fare, seeking to explain the inner workings of a system that benefitted the few at the expense of the many. In 2024, as TikTokkers and personal essayists search for “a man in finance,” things seem to be shifting again. HBO's “Industry,” now in its third season, depicts a cadre of young investment bankers clawing their way to the top of a soulless meritocracy—and may even engender some sympathy for the new finance bro. Why are audiences and creators alike so easily seduced by these stories even after the disillusionment of the Occupy Wall Street era? “We're talking about something—money—that is fun, and that we all on some level do want,” Cunningham says. “It's always going to make us feel.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Industry” (2020—)“Wall Street” (1987)“You don't have to look for a ‘man in finance.' He's everywhere,” by Rachel Tashjian (The Washington Post)Joel Sternfeld's “Summer Interns, Wall Street, New York”“American Psycho” (2000)“American Psycho,” by Bret Easton Ellis“Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” (2010)“The Big Short” (2015)“The Wolf of Wall Street” (2013)“Margin Call” (2011)“The Case for Marrying an Older Man,” by Grazie Sophia Christie (The Cut)“My Year of Finance Boys,” by Daniel Lefferts (The Paris Review)“Ways and Means,” by Daniel Lefferts“Custom of the Country,” by Edith WhartonNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Share your thoughts on Critics at Large. As a token of our appreciation, you will be eligible to enter a prize drawing up to $1,000 after you complete the survey.https://selfserve.decipherinc.com/survey/selfserve/222b/76152?pin=1&uBRANDLINK=4&uCHANNELLINK=2
Almost immediately after the publication of Sally Rooney's “Normal People,” in 2018, Rooney-mania hit a fever pitch. Her work struck a cord among a generation of readers who responded to evocative descriptions of young people's lives and relationships. Before long, Rooney had—somewhat reluctantly—been dubbed “the first great millennial author.” On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss “Intermezzo,” Rooney's hotly anticipated fourth novel, which explores the dynamic between two brothers grieving the death of their father. The book is a sadder, more mature read than Rooney's fans may have come to expect, but it retains her characteristic flair for making consciousness itself into a bingeable experience. “That is the great achievement of the realist novel for me,” Fry says. “The fact that Rooney is making this enjoyable for a new generation—amazing. Maybe it's a conservative impulse, but there's something reassuring for me about that.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Conversations with Friends,” by Sally Rooney“Normal People,” by Sally Rooney“Beautiful World, Where Are You,” by Sally Rooney“Intermezzo,” by Sally Rooney“Those Winter Sundays,” by Robert HaydenWilliam Shakespeare's “Hamlet”“Normal Novels,” by Becca Rothfeld (The Point)“The Corrections,” by Jonathan Franzen“My Struggle,” by Karl Ove KnausgaardThe Neapolitan novels, by Elena Ferrante “Sally Rooney on the Hell of Fame,” by Emma Brockes (The Guardian)“A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” by James JoyceThe Harry Potter novels, by J. K. Rowling“Why Bother?” by Jonathan Franzen (Harper's Magazine)“Middlemarch,” by George Eliot“Daniel Deronda,” by George EliotNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Share your thoughts on Critics at Large. As a token of our appreciation, you will be eligible to enter a prize drawing up to $1,000 after you complete the survey.https://selfserve.decipherinc.com/survey/selfserve/222b/76152?pin=1&uBRANDLINK=4&uCHANNELLINK=2
The writer Carl Sandburg, in his 1926 biography of Abraham Lincoln, made a provocative claim—that the President's relationship with the Kentucky state representative Joshua Speed held “streaks of lavender.” The insinuation fuelled a debate that has continued ever since: Was Lincoln gay? On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss a new documentary that tries to settle the question. “Lover of Men: The Untold History of Abraham Lincoln” is part of a growing body of work that looks at the past through the lens of identity—a process that can reveal hidden truths or involve a deliberate departure from the facts. The hosts consider other distinctly modern takes on U.S. history, including the farcical Broadway sensation “Oh, Mary!,” which depicts Mary Todd Lincoln as a failed cabaret star and her husband as a neurotic closet case, and Lin-Manuel Miranda's smash hit “Hamilton,” which reimagines the Founding Fathers as people of color. In the end, the way we locate ourselves in the past is inextricable from the culture wars of today. “It is a political necessity for every generation to be, like, No, this is what the past was like,” Cunningham says. “It points to a struggle that we're having right now to redefine, What is America?” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Lover of Men: The Untold History of Abraham Lincoln” (2024)“Abraham Lincoln: The Prairie Years & The War Years,” by Carl SandburgCole Escola's “Oh, Mary!”Lin-Manuel Miranda's “Hamilton”“The Celluloid Closet” (1995)“Hidden Figures” (2016)“I'm Coming Out,” by Diana RossNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Share your thoughts on Critics at Large. As a token of our appreciation, you will be eligible to enter a prize drawing up to $1,000 after you complete the survey.https://selfserve.decipherinc.com/survey/selfserve/222b/76152?pin=1&uBRANDLINK=4&uCHANNELLINK=2
This summer, scrutiny of the figure of the “trad wife” hit a fever pitch. These influencers' accounts feature kempt, feminine women embracing hyper-traditional roles in marriage and home-making—and, in doing so, garnering millions of followers. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss standout practitioners of the “trad” life style, including the twenty-two-year-old Nara Smith, who makes cereal and toothpaste from scratch, and Hannah Neeleman, who, posting under the handle @ballerinafarm, presents a life caring for eight children in rural Utah as a bucolic fantasy. The hosts also discuss “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives,” a new reality-television show on Hulu about a group of Mormon influencers engulfed in scandal, whose notions of female empowerment read as a quaint reversal of the trad-wife trend. A common defense of a life style that some would call regressive is that it's a personal choice, devoid of political meaning. But this gloss is complicated by societal changes such as the erosion of women's rights in America and skyrocketing child-care costs. “In American society, the way choice works has everything to do with child-care options, financial options,” Schwartz says. “When you talk about the idea of choice, are we just talking about false choices?” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:@ballerinafarm@gwenthemilkmaid@naraazizasmith“How Lucky Blue and Nara Aziza Smith Made Viral Internet Fame From Scratch,” by Carrie Battan (GQ)“The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” (2024)@esteecwilliams“Mad Men” (2007-15)The Little House on the Prairie series, by Laura Ingalls Wilder“Wilder Women,” by Judith Thurman (The New Yorker)“Meet the Queen of the “Trad Wives” (and Her Eight Children),” by Megan Agnew (The Times of London) New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
Today, we're joined by one of our favorite writers and thinkers, Vinson Cunningham, to discuss his excellent debut novel, Great Expectations, which tells the story of brilliant-but-unmoored young black man, David Hammond, who finds himself recruited — by fluke, folly, or fate — onto a historic presidential campaign for a certain charismatic Illinois senator. A staff writer at the New Yorker, Vinson also worked for Obama's 2008 campaign in his early twenties. (He bears at least some resemblance to his protagonist.) And his novel provides a wonderful jumping-off point for a deep discussion of political theater, the novel of ideas, race, faith, the meaning of Barack Obama, and the meaning of Kamala Harris. Also discussed: Christopher Isherwood, Saul Bellow, Garry Wills, Ralph Ellison, Marilynne Robinson, Paul Pierce, and Kobe Bryant! If you can't get enough Vinson, check out his podcast with Naomi Fry and Alexandra Schwartz, Critics at Large. Sources:Vinson Cunningham, Great Expectations: A Novel (2024)— "The Kamala Show," The New Yorker, Aug 19, 2024— "Searching for the Star of the N.B.A. Finals," The New Yorker, June 21, 2024— "Many and One," Commonweal, Dec 14, 2020.Saul Bellow, Ravelstein (2001) Garry Wills, Lincoln at Gettysburg (1992)Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (1952)— Shadow and Act (1964)David Haglund, "Leaving the Morman Church, After Reading a Poem," New Yorker Radio Hour, Mar 25, 2016. Phil Jackson, Sacred Hoops: Spiritual Lessons of a Hardwood Warrior (1995)Glenn Loury, Late Admissions: Confessions of a Black Conservative (2024)Matthew Sitman, "Saving Calvin from Clichés: An Interview with Marilynne Robinson," Commonweal, Oct 5, 2017...and don't forget to subscribe to Know Your Enemy on Patreon so you can listen to all of our premium episodes!
Cities have always been romanticized, but few of them have embraced—or actively engineered—their reputations as thoroughly as Las Vegas. On the second in a series of Critics at Large interview episodes, Alexandra Schwartz talks with her fellow staff writer Nick Paumgarten about how the desert town first branded itself as an entertainment capital, and how that image has been reified in pop culture ever since. The two consider seminal Vegas texts, from Hunter S. Thompson's 1971 novel, “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” to the bro comedy “The Hangover,” and Paumgarten reflects on his recent pilgrimage to see Dead & Company, the latest iteration of the Grateful Dead, during the band's residency at the Sphere. In theory, a Vegas residency should be a career high—but the expectations around them can also leave an artist trapped in amber. It's a danger that applies to places as much as people. “How do you reinvent yourself when you've achieved this cultural-icon status?” Schwartz asks. “In some ways, I wonder if that's also a question for the city itself.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Reckoning with the Dead at the Sphere,” by Nick Paumgarten (The New Yorker)“Swingers” (1996)“Double or Quits,” by Dave Hickey (Frieze)“Learning from Las Vegas,” by Robert Venturi, Steven Izenour, and Denise Scott Brown“Viva Las Vegas” (1964)“Leaving Las Vegas” (1995)“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” by Hunter S. Thompson“The Hangover” (2009)“Viva Las Vegas: Elvis Returns to the Stage,” by Ellen Willis (The New Yorker)“Elvis” (2022)“Hacks” (2021—)“Sex and the City” (1998-2004)“Friends” (1994-2004)“Seinfeld” (1989-1998)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In her 1955 novel, “The Talented Mr. Ripley,” Patricia Highsmith introduced readers to the figure of Tom Ripley, an antihero who covets the good life, and achieves it—by stealing it from someone else. On this episode of Critics at Large, the staff writers Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the long tail of Highsmith's work, which has been revived in adaptations like René Clément's 1960 classic, “Purple Noon”; the definitive 1999 film starring Matt Damon and Jude Law; and this year's Netflix series, “Ripley,” which casts its protagonist as a lonely middle-aged con man. In all three versions, Dickie Greenleaf, a wealthy acquaintance of Ripley's, becomes his obsession and eventually his victim. The story resonates today in part because we're all in the habit of observing—and coveting—the life styles of the rich and famous. Social media gives users endless opportunities to study how others live, such as the places they go, the meals they consume, and the objects they possess. “One of the reasons that the character of Ripley is forever sympathetic is the yearning and striving to be something other than himself, following an example that's set out to him,” Fry says. “For him, it's someone like Dickie. For us, it might be someone online.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Talented Mr. Ripley,” by Patricia Highsmith“The Talented Mr. Ripley” (1999)“Purple Noon” (1960)“Ripley” (2024)“Saltburn” (2023)“The White Lotus” (2021—)This episode originally aired on April 4, 2024. New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
The announcement of Kamala Harris's Presidential run has set off one of the most pronounced vibe shifts in recent memory. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz make sense of the torrent of memes; the “unholy, immediate alliance” between the Harris campaign and the British pop artist Charli XCX's album “BRAT”; and the endless comparisons to Armando Iannucci's political satire “Veep.” This chaotic but mostly cheerful embrace of Harris's candidacy stands in contrast to the national mood even a few days prior, when a pervasive sense of doom was dominant. How might we reconcile this moment of boosterism with the very real, long-term reasons for despair? “It's really no use being a fan, because you tie yourself to something you have no control over,” Cunningham says. “Recenter your ideas of the future in things that you can feel and touch. I think that that is the imaginative problem of our time, especially when it comes to doom or not doom.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Dirty Dancing” (1987)“BRAT,” by Charli XCX“Veep” (2012-19)“I Created ‘Veep.' The Real-Life Version Isn't So Funny,” by Armando Iannucci (The New York Times)“Should We Go Extinct?: A Philosophical Dilemma for Our Unbearable Times,” by Todd May“The Case for Being Unburdened by What Has Been,” by Rebecca Traister (New York Magazine)“Are We Doomed? Here's How to Think About It,” by Rivka Galchen (The New Yorker)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In an essay published earlier this month, Andrea Skinner, the daughter of the lauded writer Alice Munro, detailed the sexual abuse she suffered as a child at the hands of Munro's second husband, Gerald Fremlin. The piece goes on to describe how, even after Skinner told her of the abuse, years later, Munro chose to stay with him until his death, in 2013. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the revelations, which have raised familiar questions about what to do when beloved artists are found to have done unforgivable things. They're joined by fellow staff writer Jiayang Fan, an avid reader of Munro's work who's been grappling with the news in real time. Together they revisit the 1993 story “Vandals,” which contains unsettling parallels to the scenario that played out in the Munro home. Have the years since the #MeToo movement given us more nuanced ways of addressing these flare-ups than full-out cancellation? “It's not a moral loosening that I'm sensing,” Schwartz says. “It's more of a sense of, Maybe I don't want to throw out the work altogether—but I do need to wrestle.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“My Stepfather Sexually Abused Me When I Was a Child. My Mother, Alice Munro, Chose to Stay with Him,” by Andrea Skinner (The Toronto Star)“Vandals,” by Alice Munro (The New Yorker)“How My Mother and I Became Chinese Propaganda,” by Jiayang Fan (The New Yorker)“The Love Album: Off the Grid,” by Diddy“Ignition (Remix),” by R. Kelly“Monsters: A Fan's Dilemma,” by Claire Dederer“Manhattan” (1979)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In 1954, a young David Attenborough made his début as the star of a new nature show called “Zoo Quest.” The docuseries, which ran for nearly a decade on the BBC, was a sensation that set Attenborough down the path of his life's work: exposing viewers to our planet's most miraculous creatures and landscapes from the comfort of their living rooms. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace Attenborough's filmography from “Zoo Quest” to his newest program, “Mammals,” a six-part series on BBC America narrated by the now- ninety-eight-year-old presenter. In the seventy years since “Zoo Quest” first aired, the genre it helped create has had to reckon with the effects of the climate crisis—and to figure out how to address such hot-button issues onscreen. By highlighting conservation efforts that have been successful, the best of these programs affirm our continued agency in the planet's future. “One thing I got from ‘Mammals' was not pure doom,” Schwartz says. “There are some options here. We have choices to make.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Mammals” (2024)“Zoo Quest” (1954-63)“Are We Changing Planet Earth?” (2006)“The Snow Leopard,” by Peter Matthiessen“My Octopus Teacher” (2020)“Life on Our Planet” (2023)“I Like to Get High at Night and Think About Whales,” by Samantha IrbyNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
There's arguably no better time for falling down a cultural rabbit hole than the languid, transitory summer months. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how the season allows us to foster a particular relationship with a work of art—whether it's the soundtrack to a summer fling or a book that helps make sense of a new locale. Listeners divulge the texts that have consumed them over the years, and the hosts share their own formative obsessions, recalling how Brandy's 1998 album, “Never Say Never,” defined a first experience at camp, and how a love of Jim Morrison's music resulted in a teen-age pilgrimage to see his grave in Paris. But how do we square our past obsessions with our tastes and identities today? “Whatever we quote, whatever we make reference to, on so many levels is who we are,” Cunningham says. “It seems, to me, so precious.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Heathers” (1988)“Pump Up the Volume” (1990)The poetry of Sergei YeseninThe poetry of Alexander PushkinGoldenEye 007 (1997)“Elvis” (2022)“Jailhouse Rock” (1957)“Pride & Prejudice” (2005)The Neapolitan Novels, by Elena Ferrante“Ramble On,” by Led Zeppelin“Never Say Never,” by Brandy“The Boy Is Mine,” by Brandy and Monica“The End,” by The Doors“The Last Waltz” (1978)“The Witches of Eastwick,” by John Updike“Atlas Shrugged,” by Ayn Rand“Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl” (2003)“Postcards from the Edge” (1990)“Rent” (1996)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In recent years, as our culture has embraced therapy more widely, depictions of the practice have proliferated on screen. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace the archetype from the silent, scribbling analysts of Woody Allen's œuvre and the iconic Dr. Melfi of “The Sopranos” to newer portrayals in shows such as “Shrinking,” on Apple TV+, and Showtime's “Couples Therapy,” now in its fourth season. The star of “Couples Therapy” is Orna Guralnik, whose sessions with real-life couples show how these tools can lead to breakthroughs—or, in some cases, enable bad behavior. Since the series débuted, mental-health awareness has only grown, and the rise of therapists on social media has put psychoanalytic language and constructs into the hands of a much broader audience. Is the therapy boom making us better? “There's a way in which jargon or concepts when boiled down can be used to categorize both ourselves and others,” says Schwartz. “Maybe what I'm asking for is a reinvigoration of the idea of therapy—not to close down meaning, but to open up meaning.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The Sopranos” (1999-2007)“Couples Therapy” (2019-)“The Therapist Remaking Our Love Lives on TV,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)“The Rise of Therapy-Speak,” by Katy Waldman (The New Yorker)“Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist” (1995-2002)“The Critic” (1994-95)“Annie Hall” (1977)“The Case Against the Trauma Plot,” by Parul Seghal (The New Yorker)“Shrinking” (2023-)“Ted Lasso” (2020-23)The Cut's Overanalyzed series“21 Ways to Break Up with Your Therapist,” by Alyssa Shelasky (The Cut)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
It's a confusing time to travel. Tourism is projected to hit record-breaking levels this year, and its toll on the culture and ecosystems of popular vacation spots is increasingly hard to ignore. Social media pushes hoards to places unable to withstand the traffic, while the rise of “last-chance” travel—the rush to see melting glaciers or deteriorating coral reefs before they're gone forever—has turned the precarity of these destinations into a selling point. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz explore the question of why we travel. They trace the rich history of travel narratives, from the memoirs of Marco Polo and nineteenth-century accounts of the Grand Tour to shows like Anthony Bourdain's “Parts Unknown” and HBO's “The White Lotus.” Why are we compelled to pack a bag and set off, given the growing number of reasons not to do so? “One thing that's really important for me as a traveller is the experience of being foreign,” Schwartz says. “I'm starting to realize that there are places I may never go, and this has actually made other people's accounts of them, in the deeper sense, more important.”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“The New Tourist,” by Paige McClanahanThe “Lonely Planet” guidebooks“The Travels of Marco Polo,” by Rustichello da Pisa“Of Travel,” by Francis Bacon“The Innocents Abroad,” by Mark Twain“Self-Reliance,” by Ralph Waldo Emerson“Travels through France and Italy,” by Tobias Smollett“Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown” (2013-18)“The White Lotus” (2021—)“Conan O'Brien Must Go” (2024)“It Just Got Easier to Visit a Vanishing Glacier. Is That a Good Thing?,” by Paige McClanahan (The New York Times)“The New Luxury Vacation: Being Dumped in the Middle of Nowhere,” by Ed Caesar (The New Yorker)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
“Hit Man,” a new film directed by Richard Linklater, is not, in fact, about a hit man. The movie follows Gary Johnson (Glen Powell), a mild-mannered philosophy professor who assists law enforcement in sting operations by posing as a contract killer—and playing on the expectations stoked by Hollywood. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the history of the archetype, from the 1942 noir “This Gun for Hire” to Tarantino's “Pulp Fiction” and the “John Wick” franchise, and explore why audiences have so enthusiastically embraced a figure that, contrary to the media's depiction, is basically nonexistent in real life. “It's a fantasy of what would happen if our rage was optimized, much like our sleep and our work day and our workouts,” says Fry. “And if it comes with a side of wearing a suit that looks great—even better.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Collateral” (2004)“Pulp Fiction” (1994)“No Country for Old Men” (2007)“Hit Man” (2024)“Dazed and Confused” (1993)“Hit Men Are Easy to Find in the Movies. Real Life Is Another Story,” by Jessie McKinley (The New York Times)“This Gun for Hire” (1942)“Le Samouraï” (1967)“The Killer” (2023)“Aggro Dr1ft” (2024)“John Wick” (2014)“Barry” (2018-23)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
In recent years, in the realms of self-improvement literature, Instagram influencers, and wellness gurus, an idea has taken hold: that in a non-stop world, the act of slowing down offers a path to better living. In this episode of Critics at Large, the staff writers Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace the rise of “slowness culture”—from Carl Honoré's 2004 manifesto to pandemic-era trends of mass resignations and so-called quiet quitting. The hosts discuss the work of Jenny Odell, whose books “How to Do Nothing” and “Saving Time” frame reclaiming one's time as a life-style choice with radical roots and revolutionary political potential. But how much does an individual's commitment to leisure pay off on the level of the collective? Is too much being laid at the feet of slowness? “For me, it's about reclaiming an aspect of humanness, just the experience of not having to make the most with everything we have all the time,” Schwartz says. “There can be a degree of self-defeating critique where you say, ‘Oh, well, this is only accessible to the privileged few.' And I think the better framing is, how can more people access that kind of sitting with humanness?”Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation,” by Anne Helen Petersen (BuzzFeed)“How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy,” by Jenny Odell“Improving Ourselves to Death,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)“In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed,” by Carl Honoré“The Sabbath,” by Abraham Joshua Heschel“Saving Time: Discovering a Life Beyond Productivity Culture,” by Jenny Odell“Slow Down: The Degrowth Manifesto,” by Kohei SaitoNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. This episode originally aired on January 11, 2024.
From John Cheever's 1964 short story “The Swimmer” to Elizabeth Gilbert's best-selling 2006 memoir, “Eat, Pray, Love,” our culture has long grappled with what it means to enter middle age. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz examine depictions of that tipping point—and of the crises that often come with it. In the mid-twentieth century (and, depending on your reading of Dante and Balzac, long before that), the phenomenon was largely the purview of men, but massive societal shifts, beginning with the women's rights movement, have yielded a new archetype. The hosts discuss how novels like Miranda July's “All Fours” and Dana Spiotta's “Wayward” have updated the genre for the modern age. “I think the crisis of midlife,” Schwartz says, “is just the crisis of life, period. You invent it for yourself.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics:“Miranda July Turns the Lights On,” by Alexandra Schwartz (The New Yorker)“All Fours,” by Miranda July“Me and You and Everyone We Know” (2005)“Inferno,” by Dante Alighieri“Mrs. Dalloway,” by Virginia Woolf“Cousin Bette,” by Honoré de Balzac“The Swimmer,” by John Cheever (The New Yorker)“The Swimmer” (1968)“The Women's Room,” by Marilyn French“Wifey,” by Judy Blume“This Isn't What Millennial Middle Age Was Supposed to Look Like,” by Jessica Grose (The New York Times)“Wayward,” by Dana Spiotta“Eat, Pray, Love,” by Elizabeth Gilbert “Eat, Pray, Love” (2010)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
Some time in her forties, something shifted in Miranda July. She started having “this new, grim feeling about the future, which was weird, because I'm, like, a very excited, hopeful person,” she tells New Yorker staff writer Alexandra Schwartz, who recently profiled July for the magazine. July attributes some of that “feeling” to the disparity between all the information there was about her reproductive years, and how little there was about middle age and perimenopause. “If it's stories that we need, you know, dibs. Dibs on menopause,” she tells Schwartz. July's explorations and conversations with other women made their way into her new novel, “All Fours,” about a woman who upends her life and her marriage, and her sense of who she is and who she'll be in the second half of her life. Miranda July is fifty now, and she is taking some pages from her own book.
Lily Gladstone had been in several films, but unknown to most moviegoers, when she got a call for Martin Scorsese's period drama “Killers of a Flower Moon.” The role was challenging. She plays the historical Mollie Burkhart, an Osage woman married to a white man, Ernest (played in the film by Leonardo DiCaprio), who perpetrates a series of murders of Osage people in a scheme to secure lucrative oil rights. Ernest may be poisoning her with a cocktail that includes morphine, and some of the dialogue is in Osage, a language that Gladstone—raised on the Blackfeet reservation in Montana—had to learn. Gladstone is the first Native person nominated for Best Actress in a Leading Role, and is aware of the historical weight the nomination carries. “We're kicking the door in,” she says. “When you're kicking the door in, you should just kind of put your foot in the door and stand there,” she adds. “Kicking the door and running through it means it's going to shut behind you.” Plus, our film critic Richard Brody returns with his annual movie honors: the Brody Awards. An awards show exclusively for The New Yorker Radio Hour, he'll be handing out imaginary trophies—and trash-talking Oscar favorites like “Oppenheimer”—alongside the staff writer Alexandra Schwartz.
This bonus episode comes from The New Yorker's Critics at Large podcast.In the highest-grossing movie of 2023, Barbie, a literal doll, leaves the comforts of Barbieland and ventures into real-world Los Angeles, where she discovers the myriad difficulties of modern womanhood. This arc from cosseted naïveté to feminist awakening is a narrative through line that connects some of the biggest cultural products of the year. In this episode, the staff writers Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how 2023 became “the year of the doll,” tracing the trope from “Barbie” to Yorgos Lanthimos's film “Poor Things,” whose protagonist finds self-determination through sexual agency, and beyond. In Sofia Coppola's “Priscilla,” a teen-age Priscilla Beaulieu lives under the thumb of Elvis at Graceland before finally breaking free, while in Emma Cline's novel “The Guest,” the doll figure must fend for herself after the trappings of luxury fall away, revealing the precarity of her circumstances. The hosts explore how ideas about whiteness, beauty, and women's bodily autonomy inform these works, and how the shock of political backsliding might explain why these stories struck a chord with audiences. “Most of us believed that the work of Roe v. Wade was done,” Cunningham says. “If that is a message that we could all grasp—that a step forward is not a permanent thing—I think that would be a positive thing.”