Inexplicably acclaimed, Rooney’s novel offers canned millennial gender play with a scrawny garnish of warmed-over Marxism.
Ireland
“I think she’s bipolar, or lactose intolerant, one of the two.” — Jack Brennan, Calvary What could be […]
At the end of Orson Welles’s Touch of Evil, we see Tanya, a jaded gypsy, reflecting on the […]