With the Rockies banging around in their familiar fourth-place hell and the bewildered Nuggets awaiting the Eye Chart Era (that’s B-Z-D-E-L-I-K, Doc, and let’s see here, looks like: T-S-K-I-T-S-H-V-I-L-I), local fans find themselves yearning for some real sport — the invasion of Iraq, say, or the start of football season…
Denver-born trumpeter Shane Endsley migrated this summer from balmy, laid-back Los Angeles to dense, teeming Brooklyn so he can be closer to his fiancée — and to New York’s fertile experimental-music scene. For some people, such a move might have been a shock to the system. But at age 27,…
In the tumult of an ugly and tragic year, the realm of public villainy has expanded to accommodate Arab terrorists with a lust for mass destruction, Catholic priests with a taste for little boys, and wealthy corporate swindlers with their manicured mitts in your bank account. There’s no end in…
If nothing else, give French actor Yvan Attal credit for his faith in domestic bliss. At a time when matrimony has a shorter life span than mayonnaise, Attal has sought to mingle the joys and traumas of his own marriage (to actress Charlotte Gainsbourg) with his piquant views on the…
What a mess. It is taking the Denver Nuggets much longer to hire a new head coach than the Egyptians took to build the pyramids. While the search continues, here’s the inside story of the team’s painstaking selection process. You won’t read it anywhere else, simply because nobody else employs…
If you don’t object to the occasional metaphor coming from the barrel of a gun, you’ll probably find Sam Mendes’s quirky period gangster movie Road to Perdition intellectually stimulating, emotionally complex and gorgeous to look at. This is the gifted British stage director’s first film since his startling and provocative…
Look: The children are coming in from recess, and it’s clear that the fractious ten-year-old everyone calls Rockie needs more counseling — maybe even another personality transplant. Rockie still fails to heed his teachers. He doesn’t play well with others. As usual, the poor kid’s flunked his midterms and will…
Most summer movies about the pain of growing up emerge from the same primordial ooze — lots of teenage anxiety mixed with two or three unruly hormones in the stickum of comic discontent. What a relief, then, to find a coming-of-age film that avoids the cartoonish cliches and sneering humor…
It has been eighty years since the adventurous son of a Michigan iron miner trained a silent-movie camera on the everyday life of an “Eskimo” family in the Canadian Arctic and virtually invented documentary filmmaking. Through the decades, Robert Flaherty’s Nanook of the North has attracted its share of criticism…
The crowd didn’t riot. No one set himself on fire in the parking lot. There wasn’t a speck of angry talk about hiring a hit man to whack out Claudio Reyna or Clint Mathis. In fact, as the biggest game in the history of U.S. men’s soccer came to its…
Nat Yarbrough never loses his cool. A slender, long-legged man with a calming, regal aspect, he moves as beautifully as a panther and rarely betrays the slightest hint of physical exertion — not even in the mounting heat of a solo, when both feet are thumping the pedals, his sculpted…
There’s an even-money chance that the next Oscar de la Hoya was somewhere in the building Monday night — shadow-boxing in a back hall, sleeping in the snack bar or telling his friends in the bleachers that his time had come, that he’s just gotta win the tournament this time…
At first, the swaggering neo-Nazi skinhead played to scary effect by Ryan Gosling in The Believer seems to hail from the same cesspool that spit up Russell Crowe’s Neanderthal in Romper Stomper and Edward Norton’s deep-thinking thug in American History X. Gosling’s Danny Balint is a belligerent New York street…
The “one thing” at the heart of Jill Sprecher’s 13 Conversations About One Thing may not have one name. But as you wend your way through this intricate meditation on urban solitude and the nature of fate, you’ll likely discover for yourself whether it’s called happiness, hope, domestic tranquility or…
In the sun-splashed dining room of La Praviana, a neat-as-a-pin Salvadoran restaurant on South Broadway, the shy waitress sets down two cold bottles of Suprema beer, and Roque Guillermo Luna begins to talk very quietly, very gently — in fact, he begins to talk the way a grownup talks when…
It’s no surprise that the Louisiana-born novelist Rebecca Wells has seen her wildly popular books translated into eighteen languages, with no less than six million copies in print. She’s no deep-thinking stylist, but she has an unfailing gift for injecting Southern sentimentality, low-grade neurosis and mischievous charm into stories that…
If you’re in Manhattan feeling frisky and need a workout this Saturday morning, leave your empty beer glass on the mahogany in Martin’s and briskly walk the five furlongs to Penn Station. There. All done. Now board the 10:31 train, hunt for a cozy spot in the bar car and…
Victor Hugo called grief “a divine and terrible radiance which transfigures the wretched,” and anyone who has ever found himself touching the sleeve of his father’s favorite jacket on the day after his funeral, or gazing at the toy-strewn floor in a dead child’s playroom, or surveying the carnage on…
The vast majority of American men have nothing more in common with major-league baseball players than an occasional hangnail and the right to a jury trial. Most of us couldn’t hit a beach ball thrown by an eight-year-old, much less Randy Johnson’s heater, and whenever we execute the hit-and-run, there’s…
Seriously strung-out jazz fiends — you know who you are — will never confuse Denver with the Big Apple or the Big Easy. But America’s native art form purrs along quite nicely at 5,280 feet, thank you very much, and the jazz-and-cocktails faithful here needn’t endure New York’s break-the-bank cover…
Anybody who takes a second, sorrowful look at the charred rubble in lower Manhattan, the body counts in the West Bank or the brazen denials of Slobodan Milosevic will have to conclude that the brotherhood of man isn’t attracting many good recruits these days. Neither, for that matter, is the…
Newsy Lalonde wouldn’t like it. Neither would Mud Bruneteau. Nor Odie Cleghorn. The Colorado Avalanche has once more shoved its bloody but proud face into the middle of the National Hockey League playoff picture, and so have teams from such distinctly non-Canadian, well-above-zero climes as San Jose, California, and St…
