Gerwig’s recent adaptation of Little Women echoes the Bible’s ability to hold within its pages quite a variety of ideas on marriage and singleness.
A world that can produce an Ebenezer Scrooge without a merciful God to save and bless us would be a very dark place indeed.
Unlike abuse, love does not excuse or minimize wrongdoing.
It’s perpetually difficult for those who love their creativity to understand and to reconcile it with their dark sides.
Hepburn’s book examines the major resurgence of orthodox Christian faith among British writers in mid-20th century.
What’s inside this book of “fandom-inspired devotionals” is just as quirky, clever, and fun as the title.
This series has poignantly shown us that it was longing that defined the lives of Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon.
Their relationship has become a sad reminder that you can have it all and still have nothing.
Tim Conway shone a ray of light in a dark world by doing small things with great laughter.
The tragedy of Bob Fosse was that however good he was at what he did—and he was very, very, very good—he never felt good enough.
It’s not excusing his hurtful, hedonistic behavior to observe that something is broken inside Bob Fosse.
What will “going on” for Fosse look like, and is it possible to do more than just “go on” the way he has been?
Gwen finds herself trapped by the very expectations that her talent and hard work have brought her.
In this second episode of Fosse/Verdon, the pattern of their relationship is being set.
Both of them firmly believe that great art offers things like truth and consolation to people who need them.
In the #MeToo era, an ending like that in My Fair Lady could give us all hope that people can change—something we desperately need to remember.