The Lake House: Keanu, I Feel Ya

Either I’m getting soft in the heart or I’m getting long in the tooth. Probably both. Anyway, I’m getting used to Keanu Reeves. He can’t act, but his blank-blackboard expressions and his narcoleptic demeanor while mumbling lines in his sleep have become as so-what routine as Madonna’s push-ahead self-promotion. And speaking of routine, his shared Read More

The Lake House: Keanu, I Feel Ya

Either I’m getting soft in the heart or I’m getting long in the tooth. Probably both. Anyway, I’m getting used to Keanu Reeves. He can’t act, but his blank-blackboard expressions and his narcoleptic demeanor while mumbling lines in his sleep have become as so-what routine as Madonna’s push-ahead self-promotion. And speaking of routine, his shared Read More

Great Artist: Real or Fake? Pat Endings: Hard to Take

There’s a thrilling close to the first half of Jon Robin

Baitz’s new play Ten Unknowns at

Lincoln Center’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theatre when a huge blank canvas seems to fill

the floor of the stage. The 72-year-old painter Malcolm Raphelson, a burnt-out

case, hovers over it poised to paint a portrait of his mother, Read More

A Drooping Dream Team … Whole Town’s Gone to Pot

A Drooping Dream Team

With so many irritating movies aimed for the horny teenage market in this summer of shameless schlock, it’s a welcome relief to see a few liver spots. Space Cowboys , produced, directed by and starring the ruggedly perdurable Clint Eastwood, really mixes up the demographics, reminding us all that Read More