The long-awaited 25th outing for Ian Fleming’s superspy is a weird and self-aware epic with audacious surprises up its sleeve
The standard bearer of British soft power is back, in a film yanked from cinemas back in the time of the toilet roll shortage, based on a literary character conceived when sugar and meat rationing was still in force, and now emerging in cinemas as Britons are fighting for petrol in the forecourts.
Bond, like Norma Desmond, is once again ready for his closeup – and Daniel Craig once again shows us his handsome-Shrek face and the lovable bat ears, flecked with the scars of yesterday’s punch-up, the lips as ever pursed in determination or disgust. Continue reading...
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By Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie , Fiction , THE NEW YORKER February 10, 2025 Photograph by Nakeya Brown for The New Yorker I have always long...
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The making—and selling—of Coca-Cola. By E. J. Kahn, Jr. , THE NEW YORKER, Profiles February 6, 1959 Photograph by George Marks / Retrofile...
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A tale of two hot dog vendors claims the top spot in this year’s voting, outpolling four other favorites. All five are presented here. Dec. ...
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