And now, part two of my examination of the AFI Greatest 100 Films Of All Time list…although I don’t know if it’s an examination so much as a display of my ignorance of classic film. …

Oh, Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. How could you do this to me? For weeks — weeks — leading up to the Oscars, I despaired. I agonized. I lay, sleepless, staring at the ceiling, …

It’s Monday again. I had a houseguest over the weekend, and while the houseguest rocked my world, the pile of work which I ignored in favor of houseguest fun times did not, and I have …

It’s Monday. I slept poorly last night, partly because I ate a snack about an hour before going to bed and had utterly bizarre chocolate-fueled dreams involving Tom Skerritt and a merry-go-round as a result, …

Oh, hello, dear readers. Another Monday has arrived, and you have come once again to read an essay . . . or perhaps you’ve dropped by first thing on Tuesday morning, after you settled down …

I know, I know. It’s got you up nights. You lie in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the minutes stretching into hours, and you toss and turn and punch your pillow and say to …

The Academy Awards remind me of New Year’s Eve. For weeks, nobody can talk about anything else, and the hype keeps snowballing bigger and bigger until even non-entertainment-related publications like Scientific American and Car & …

When pop-culture mavens bemoan the suck-assity of movie sequels, we usually point to a few universally recognized examples of overt greed, poor judgment, and sixty-eight cracked-out chimps locked in a room, the better to bludgeon …

A couple of days ago, I found myself tearing up during a movie preview, which sounds pathetic enough by itself, but it gets worse. I teared up during a preview for a Kevin Costner movie. …

Last night, the Couch Baron accompanied me to The Sixth Sense. I like going to the movies with the Couch Baron because he is, as Nicole would say, easy like Sunday morning. The Couch Baron …