Friday
February 22, 2019
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Tennis, Anyone?

Obsession and regression

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, June 30, 2017

Memories of Jazz Nights

You needed stamina, but the payoff was great

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, June 23, 2017

Valentines Past

If only I’d had the nerve …

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, June 16, 2017

On the Death of Friendship

Nothing lasts forever

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, June 02, 2017

On Keeping a Blog

A Farewell

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, May 26, 2017

A Visit to Harvard

And a surprise encounter with Dr. Johnson

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, May 19, 2017

Remembering Cynthia Macdonald

Poet, teacher, opera singer, psychoanalyst, and friend

by Phillip Lopate | Thursday, May 11, 2017

Marrying a Widow

Or, my spectral predecessor

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, May 05, 2017

Baldwin the Prophet vs. Baldwin the Writer

Can a film really capture the essence of both?

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, April 28, 2017

Listening to Dinah

The complexity of “Don’t Explain”

by Phillip Lopate | Friday, April 21, 2017
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THIS WEEK’S ARCHIVE PICK

The Moviegoers

by Mark Edmundson

Living in New York in the mid-1970s, Mark Edmundson was a cab driver, an occasional writer, and, most important, a moviegoer. It was a good time to be a film buff. Martin Scorsese had released Taxi Driver; Paul Schrader wrote and directed Blue Collar; and Robert Altman made The Long Goodbye and California Split. “I can’t really tell you whether these movies summarized a national mood, but they summarized some moods of mine,” writes Edmundson. “Matinees are therapy for those who can’t afford therapists.” Even when life seemed to be going nowhere, at the movies “there was always a chair, at least unoccupied if not specifically assigned, stained with Coke, crackling with popcorn bits.”