By Ernest Kearney — We are told by author Alan L. Brooks, he is "a doctor, not a playwright – and he has a 40 year career as a radiologist to prove it.” First, let me get the “cheap shot” outa the way: “Alan, keep
by Ernest Kearney — Matei Visniec is a Romanian playwright who sought and was granted political asylum in France in 1987. Following the collapse of the Communist regime of Nicolai Ceausescu in 1989, Visniec became one of his nation’s most touted dramatists.
By Ernest Kearney — The Silence of the Lambs, the 1991 thriller directed by Jonathan Demme—based on the Thomas Harris 1988 novel of the same name/screen adaptation by Ted Tally—dished out one super genius serial killer with an appetite for sautéing his victims and another
By Ernest Kearney — "Gloria," the Pulitzer Prize-finalist, by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins is best described as an E-Ticket ride to the infernal regions of hell. Oh yes, indeed, the trip the Echo Theater Company takes you on, starts out full of fun and snickers; but a
By Ernest Kearney — Of all Shakespeare’s plays save "Hamlet," "Othello" offers the most challenges to any cry of players, while also demanding they travel a similar path.
by Ernest Kearney As he espoused passion for both the city and its theatre, it is fitting that the late writer Ray Bradbury should find himself resurrected on a Los Angeles stage. (The Whitefire Theatre in Sherman Oaks)
By Ernest Kearney — In 1944 The Glass Menagerie established its young playwright, Tennessee Williams as a major new talent in the world of theatre, and of his 70 plays it remains one of his most highly respected and most often staged. In this autobiographical work,
By Ernest Kearney — It always pleases me when I revisit a film after many years and find that it’s as good as I remembered. Alas, that is often not the case. But if anything, the 1983 made-for-TV thriller, Special Bulletin was better than memory held. What
By Ernest Kearney — In these turbulent and twisting times that find so many bewildered and baffled, suckered punched by the events of the last two years, I find myself in this punishing period for our nation oddly consoled by a soothing sense of déjà-vu. Yes,
By Ernest Kearney — When the Russian poet Vladimir Mayakovsky was found on April 14, 1930—a suicide at the age of 36—his handwritten note read "To all of you. I die, but don't blame anyone for it, and please do not gossip.
