Episodit
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In her new FX docuseries “Social Studies,” the artist and filmmaker Lauren Greenfield delves into the post-pandemic lives—and phones—of a group of L.A. teens. Screen recordings of the kids’ social-media use reveal how these platforms have reshaped their experience of the world in alarming ways. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how the show paints a vivid, empathetic portrait of modern adolescence while also tapping into the long tradition of fretting about what the youths of the day are up to. The hosts consider moral panics throughout history, from the 1971 book “Go Ask Alice,” which was first marketed as the true story of a drug-addicted girl’s downfall in a bid to scare kids straight, to the hand-wringing that surrounded trends like rock and roll and the postwar comic-book craze. Anxieties around social-media use, by contrast, are warranted. Mounting research shows how screen time correlates with spikes in depression, loneliness, and suicide among teens. It’s a problem that has come to define all our lives, not just those of the youth. “This whole crust of society—people joining trade unions and other kinds of things, lodges and guilds, having hobbies,” Cunningham says, “that layer of society is shrinking. And parallel to our crusade against the ills of social media is, how do we rebuild that sector of society?”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Social Studies” (2024)
“Into the Phones of Teens,” by Naomi Fry (The New Yorker)
“Generation Wealth” (2018)
Marilyn Manson
“Reviving Ophelia,” by Mary Pipher
“Go Ask Alice,” by Beatrice Sparks
“Forrest Gump” (1994)
“The Rules of Attraction,” by Bret Easton Ellis
“Less Than Zero,” by Bret Easton Ellis
“The Sorrows of Young Werther,” by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“Seduction of the Innocent,” by Fredric Wertham
“Has Social Media Fuelled a Teen-Suicide Crisis?,” by Andrew Solomon (The New Yorker)
“The Anxious Generation,” by Jonathan Haidt
“Bowling Alone,” by Robert D. PutnamNew episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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One of the most fundamental features of art is its ability to meet us during times of distress. In the early days of the pandemic, many people turned to comfort reads and beloved films as a form of escapism; more recently, in the wake of the election, shows such as “The Great British Bake Off” have been offered up on group chats as a balm. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider the value—and limits—of seeking solace in culture. Comfort art has flourished in recent years, as evidenced by the rise of genres such as“romantasy” and the “cozy thriller.” But where is the line between using art as a salve and tuning out at a moment when politics demands our engagement? “One of the purposes of the comfort we seek is to sustain us,” Schwartz says. “That’s what we all are going to need: sustenance to move forward.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“The Crown” (2016-2023)
“Sesame Street” (1969-)
“The Great British Bake Off” (2010-)
“In Tumultuous Times, Readers Turn to ‘Healing Fiction,’ ” by Alexandra Alter (The New York Times)
Charles Schulz’s “Peanuts” (1950-2000)
“Uncut Gems” (2019)
“Somebody Somewhere” (2022-)
“3 Terrific Specials to Distract You from the News,” by Jason Zinoman (The New York Times)
“Tom Papa: Home Free” (2024)
“America, Don’t Succumb to Escapism,” by Kristen Ghodsee (The New Republic)
“Candide,” by Voltaire
Beth Stern’s Instagram
“Janet Planet” (2023)
Marvin Gaye’s “What's Going On”
Donny Hathaway’s “Extension of a Man”New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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Puuttuva jakso?
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Since the comedian Julio Torres came to America from El Salvador, more than a decade ago, his fantastical style has made him a singular presence in the entertainment landscape. An early stint writing for “Saturday Night Live” yielded some of the show’s weirdest and most memorable sketches; soon after that, Torres’s work on the HBO series “Los Espookys,” which he co-wrote and starred in, cemented his status as a beloved odd-child of the comedy scene. In his most recent work, he’s applied his dreamy sensibility to very real bureaucratic nightmares. “Problemista,” his first feature film, draws on Torres’s own Kafkaesque experience navigating the U.S. immigration system; in his new HBO show, “Fantasmas,” the protagonist considers whether to acquire a document called a “proof of existence,” without which everyday tasks like renting an apartment are rendered impossible. In a live taping at The New Yorker Festival, the hosts of Critics at Large talk with Torres about his creative influences, and about using abstraction to put our most impenetrable systems into tangible terms. “Life today is so riddled with these man-made labyrinths that are life-or-death … there’s something very lonely about it,” Torres says. “These flourishes are there in service of the humanity.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Problemista” (2023)
“Fantasmas” (2024-)
“Los Espookys” (2019-22)
“I Want to Be a Vase,” by Julio Torres
“My Favorite Shapes” (2019)
“Saturday Night Live” (1975-)
“Julio Torres’s ‘Fantasmas’ Finds Truth in Fantasy,” by Vinson Cunningham (The New Yorker)
“The Hunchback of Notre Dame” (1996)
“Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle” (2003)
“The Substance” (2024)
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
The art of advice-giving, championed over the years by such figures as Ann Landers and Cheryl Strayed, has lately undergone a transformation. As traditional columns have continued to proliferate, social-media platforms have created new venues for those seeking—and doling out—counsel, from the users of the popular subreddit “Am I the Asshole” to the countless “experts” who peddle their takes on Instagram and TikTok. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz try their hands at the trade, advising listeners on a variety of cultural conundrums. The hosts trace the form from early examples such as Advice for Living, the short-lived column written by Martin Luther King, Jr., in the late nineteen-fifties, through to the Internet age. The genre has long functioned as a forum for parsing the ethics of the era, and its enduring appeal might be explained by our inherent curiosity about the way others live. “There is a sort of plurality of approaches to life itself, which means that we are all passing into and out of other people’s moral universes,” Cunningham says. “I think it causes more trouble—causes more questions.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“The Witch Elm,” by Tana French
“Crime and Punishment,” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
“Pride and Prejudice,” by Jane Austen
“Intermezzo,” by Sally Rooney
“The Guest,” by Emma Cline
“I’m a Fan,” by Sheena Patel
“My Husband,” by Maud Ventura
“The Anthropologists,” by Ayşegül Savaş
“Small Rain,” by Garth Greenwell
“Brightness Falls,” by Jay McInerney
Richard Linklater’s “Before” trilogy
William Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”
“Ghost World,” by Dan Clowes
The Ethicist (The New York Times)
Dear Sugar (The Rumpus)
“The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” by Robert Louis Stevenson
“Lisa Frankenstein” (2024)
“The Turn of the Screw,” by Henry James
“Carrie,” by Stephen King
“Little Labors,” by Rivka Galchen
“Matrescence,” by Lucy Jones
“The Mother Artist,” by Catherine Ricketts
“Acts of Creation,” by Hettie Judah
r/AmItheAsshole
Advice for Living (Ebony Magazine)
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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“The Apprentice,” a new film directed by Ali Abbasi, depicts the rise of a young Donald Trump under the wing of the notorious lawyer Roy Cohn. The film is, in many ways, an origin story for a man who has overtaken contemporary politics. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the movie and other works that explore Trump’s and Cohn’s psychologies, from duelling family memoirs to documentaries. The sheer number of such texts raises the question: Why are we so interested in the backstories of people who have done wrong, and what do we stand to gain (or lose) by humanizing them? “Do we want to see our villains, our absolute villains—people who have caused much harm to the world—as weak little boys who’ve undergone trauma and have had their reasons for becoming the monsters they later turn into?” Fry asks. “Or do we not?”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“The Apprentice” (2024)
“Who Could Ever Love You: A Family Memoir,” by Mary Trump
“All in the Family: The Trumps and How We Got This Way,” by Fred C. Trump III
“Where’s My Roy Cohn?” (2019)
“Roy Cohn and the Making of a Winner-Take-All America,” by Naomi Fry (The New Yorker)
“Angels in America” (2003)
“Joker” (2019)
“Wicked” (2024)
“Ratched” (2020)
“Elephant” (2003)
“Cruella” (2021)
“The Sopranos” (1991-2007)
“Mad Men” (2007-15)
The “Harry Potter” novels, by J. K. Rowling
“Paradise Lost,” by John Milton
“Be Ready When the Luck Happens,” by Ina Garten
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
In “The Substance,” a darkly satirical horror movie directed by Coralie Fargeat, Demi Moore plays an aging Hollywood actress who strikes a tech-infused Faustian bargain to unleash a younger, “more perfect” version of herself. Gruesome side effects ensue. Fargeat’s film plays on the fact that female aging is often seen as its own brand of horror—and that we’ve devised increasingly extreme methods of combating it. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss “The Substance” and “A Different Man,” another new release that questions our culture’s obsession with perfecting our physical forms. In recent years, the smorgasbord of products and procedures promising to enhance our bodies and preserve our youth has only grown; social media has us looking at ourselves more than ever before. No wonder, then, that horror as a genre has been increasingly preoccupied with our uneasy relationship to our own exteriors. “We are embodied. It is a struggle. It is beautiful. It’s something to wrestle with forever. Just as you think that you’ve caught up to your current embodiment, something changes,” Schwartz says. “And so how do we make our peace with it?”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“A Clockwork Orange” (1971)
“The Substance” (2024)
“A Different Man” (2024)
“Psycho” (1960)
“The Ren & Stimpy Show” (1991-96)
“The Bluest Eye,” by Toni Morrison
“Passing,” by Nella Larsen
“The Power of Positive Thinking,” by Norman Vincent Peale
“Titane” (2021)
“The Age of Instagram Face,” by Jia Tolentino (The New Yorker)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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From classic eighties films like “Wall Street” to Bret Easton Ellis’s 1991 novel “American Psycho,” the world of finance has long provided a seductive backdrop for meditations on wealth and power. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the many portrayals of this élite realm, and how its image has evolved over time. Where earlier texts glorified Wall Street types as roguish heroes, the Great Recession ushered in more critical fare, seeking to explain the inner workings of a system that benefitted the few at the expense of the many. In 2024, as TikTokkers and personal essayists search for “a man in finance,” things seem to be shifting again. HBO’s “Industry,” now in its third season, depicts a cadre of young investment bankers clawing their way to the top of a soulless meritocracy—and may even engender some sympathy for the new finance bro. Why are audiences and creators alike so easily seduced by these stories even after the disillusionment of the Occupy Wall Street era? “We're talking about something—money—that is fun, and that we all on some level do want,” Cunningham says. “It’s always going to make us feel.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Industry” (2020—)
“Wall Street” (1987)
“You don’t have to look for a ‘man in finance.’ He’s everywhere,” by Rachel Tashjian (The Washington Post)
Joel Sternfeld’s “Summer Interns, Wall Street, New York”
“American Psycho” (2000)
“American Psycho,” by Bret Easton Ellis
“Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” (2010)
“The Big Short” (2015)
“The Wolf of Wall Street” (2013)
“Margin Call” (2011)
“The Case for Marrying an Older Man,” by Grazie Sophia Christie (The Cut)
“My Year of Finance Boys,” by Daniel Lefferts (The Paris Review)
“Ways and Means,” by Daniel Lefferts
“Custom of the Country,” by Edith Wharton
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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Almost immediately after the publication of Sally Rooney’s “Normal People,” in 2018, Rooney-mania hit a fever pitch. Her work struck a cord among a generation of readers who responded to evocative descriptions of young people’s lives and relationships. Before long, Rooney had—somewhat reluctantly—been dubbed “the first great millennial author.” On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss “Intermezzo,” Rooney’s hotly anticipated fourth novel, which explores the dynamic between two brothers grieving the death of their father. The book is a sadder, more mature read than Rooney’s fans may have come to expect, but it retains her characteristic flair for making consciousness itself into a bingeable experience. “That is the great achievement of the realist novel for me,” Fry says. “The fact that Rooney is making this enjoyable for a new generation—amazing. Maybe it’s a conservative impulse, but there’s something reassuring for me about that.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Conversations with Friends,” by Sally Rooney
“Normal People,” by Sally Rooney
“Beautiful World, Where Are You,” by Sally Rooney
“Intermezzo,” by Sally Rooney
“Those Winter Sundays,” by Robert Hayden
William Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”
“Normal Novels,” by Becca Rothfeld (The Point)
“The Corrections,” by Jonathan Franzen
“My Struggle,” by Karl Ove Knausgaard
The Neapolitan novels, by Elena Ferrante
“Sally Rooney on the Hell of Fame,” by Emma Brockes (The Guardian)
“A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” by James Joyce
The Harry Potter novels, by J. K. Rowling
“Why Bother?” by Jonathan Franzen (Harper’s Magazine)
“Middlemarch,” by George Eliot
“Daniel Deronda,” by George Eliot
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
The writer Carl Sandburg, in his 1926 biography of Abraham Lincoln, made a provocative claim—that the President’s relationship with the Kentucky state representative Joshua Speed held “streaks of lavender.” The insinuation fuelled a debate that has continued ever since: Was Lincoln gay? On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss a new documentary that tries to settle the question. “Lover of Men: The Untold History of Abraham Lincoln” is part of a growing body of work that looks at the past through the lens of identity—a process that can reveal hidden truths or involve a deliberate departure from the facts. The hosts consider other distinctly modern takes on U.S. history, including the farcical Broadway sensation “Oh, Mary!,” which depicts Mary Todd Lincoln as a failed cabaret star and her husband as a neurotic closet case, and Lin-Manuel Miranda’s smash hit “Hamilton,” which reimagines the Founding Fathers as people of color. In the end, the way we locate ourselves in the past is inextricable from the culture wars of today. “It is a political necessity for every generation to be, like, No, this is what the past was like,” Cunningham says. “It points to a struggle that we’re having right now to redefine, What is America?”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Lover of Men: The Untold History of Abraham Lincoln” (2024)
“Abraham Lincoln: The Prairie Years & The War Years,” by Carl Sandburg
Cole Escola’s “Oh, Mary!”
Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton”
“The Celluloid Closet” (1995)
“Hidden Figures” (2016)
“I’m Coming Out,” by Diana Ross
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
This summer, scrutiny of the figure of the “trad wife” hit a fever pitch. These influencers’ accounts feature kempt, feminine women embracing hyper-traditional roles in marriage and home-making—and, in doing so, garnering millions of followers. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss standout practitioners of the “trad” life style, including the twenty-two-year-old Nara Smith, who makes cereal and toothpaste from scratch, and Hannah Neeleman, who, posting under the handle @ballerinafarm, presents a life caring for eight children in rural Utah as a bucolic fantasy. The hosts also discuss “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives,” a new reality-television show on Hulu about a group of Mormon influencers engulfed in scandal, whose notions of female empowerment read as a quaint reversal of the trad-wife trend. A common defense of a life style that some would call regressive is that it’s a personal choice, devoid of political meaning. But this gloss is complicated by societal changes such as the erosion of women’s rights in America and skyrocketing child-care costs. “In American society, the way choice works has everything to do with child-care options, financial options,” Schwartz says. “When you talk about the idea of choice, are we just talking about false choices?”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
@ballerinafarm
@gwenthemilkmaid
@naraazizasmith
“How Lucky Blue and Nara Aziza Smith Made Viral Internet Fame From Scratch,” by Carrie Battan (GQ)“The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” (2024)
@esteecwilliams“Mad Men” (2007-15)
The Little House on the Prairie series, by Laura Ingalls Wilder
“Wilder Women,” by Judith Thurman (The New Yorker)
“Meet the Queen of the “Trad Wives” (and Her Eight Children),” by Megan Agnew (The Times of London)
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
Until recently, tarot, astrology, and spiritualism—practices often shorthanded simply as woo-woo—were the stuff of dusty psychic parlors and seventies nostalgia. But today, mysticism has permeated mainstream culture. In the third and final installment of the Critics at Large interview series, Vinson Cunningham talks with Jennifer Wilson, a contributing writer at The New Yorker, about this new age of magical thinking. They discuss how “woo” has seeped into our everyday lives through apps such as Co-Star, and how recent TV shows and novels have embraced supernatural themes. With the rise of cryptocurrency and sports betting, speculation about the future has become a fundamental part of our economy, too. “Maybe people would feel less uncertainty that pushes them to consult with astrology and tarot-card readers if there were more security in the present,” Wilson says. “In so many ways, this is a problem we’ve created.” And a bonus: Vinson gets a tarot reading of his own.
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“The Curse” (2023)
@astropoets
“True Detective” (2014-)
“This Is Me . . . Now: A Love Story” (2024)
“The White Lotus” (2021-)
“Long Island Compromise,” by Taffy Brodesser-Akner
“ ‘The Curse’ and the Magical Thinking of the Speculative Economy,” by Jennifer Wilson
“Look Into My Eyes” (2024)
“Speculative Communities: Living with Uncertainty in a Financialized World,” by Aris Komporozos-Athanasiou
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
Cities have always been romanticized, but few of them have embraced—or actively engineered—their reputations as thoroughly as Las Vegas. On the second in a series of Critics at Large interview episodes, Alexandra Schwartz talks with her fellow staff writer Nick Paumgarten about how the desert town first branded itself as an entertainment capital, and how that image has been reified in pop culture ever since. The two consider seminal Vegas texts, from Hunter S. Thompson’s 1971 novel, “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” to the bro comedy “The Hangover,” and Paumgarten reflects on his recent pilgrimage to see Dead & Company, the latest iteration of the Grateful Dead, during the band’s residency at the Sphere. In theory, a Vegas residency should be a career high—but the expectations around them can also leave an artist trapped in amber. It’s a danger that applies to places as much as people. “How do you reinvent yourself when you’ve achieved this cultural-icon status?” Schwartz asks. “In some ways, I wonder if that’s also a question for the city itself.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Reckoning with the Dead at the Sphere,” by Nick Paumgarten (The New Yorker)
“Swingers” (1996)
“Double or Quits,” by Dave Hickey (Frieze)
“Learning from Las Vegas,” by Robert Venturi, Steven Izenour, and Denise Scott Brown
“Viva Las Vegas” (1964)
“Leaving Las Vegas” (1995)
“Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” by Hunter S. Thompson
“The Hangover” (2009)
“Viva Las Vegas: Elvis Returns to the Stage,” by Ellen Willis (The New Yorker)
“Elvis” (2022)
“Hacks” (2021—)
“Sex and the City” (1998-2004)
“Friends” (1994-2004)
“Seinfeld” (1989-1998)
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
“ ‘BRAT’ summer”—so named for the Charli XCX album that’s become the soundtrack of Kamala Harris’s Presidential run—has given pop fans much to discuss, from Charli’s own flirtation with mainstream stardom to the meteoric rise of Chappell Roan. On the first in a series of Critics at Large interview episodes, Naomi Fry talks with her fellow staff writer Kelefa Sanneh about the state of the music landscape. The two consider the breakout successes of the moment—including “Espresso,” the Sabrina Carpenter song that launched a thousand memes—and the catastrophic failures, namely Katy Perry’s new single, “Woman’s World.” These highs and lows speak to the nature of the genre, in which artists can be cast aside as quickly as they were embraced. “Pop music, in particular, tends to be quite cutthroat,” Sanneh says. “If it’s not working, it’s flopping. And when it’s time for people to jump off the bandwagon, people jump off.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“BRAT,” by Charli XCX
“Woman’s World,” by Katy Perry
“ ‘Woman’s World’ Track Review,” by Shaad D’Souza (Pitchfork)
“Mean girls,” by Charli XCX
“Good Luck, Babe!,” by Chappell Roan
“I Kissed a Girl,” by Katy Perry
“SOUR,” by Olivia Rodrigo
“emails i can’t send,” by Sabrina Carpenter
“Espresso,” by Sabrina Carpenter
“Please Please Please,” by Sabrina Carpenter
“Not Like Us,” by Kendrick Lamar
“The Night We Met,” by Lord Huron
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
In her 1955 novel, “The Talented Mr. Ripley,” Patricia Highsmith introduced readers to the figure of Tom Ripley, an antihero who covets the good life, and achieves it—by stealing it from someone else. On this episode of Critics at Large, the staff writers Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the long tail of Highsmith’s work, which has been revived in adaptations like René Clément’s 1960 classic, “Purple Noon”; the definitive 1999 film starring Matt Damon and Jude Law; and this year’s Netflix series, “Ripley,” which casts its protagonist as a lonely middle-aged con man. In all three versions, Dickie Greenleaf, a wealthy acquaintance of Ripley’s, becomes his obsession and eventually his victim. The story resonates today in part because we’re all in the habit of observing—and coveting—the life styles of the rich and famous. Social media gives users endless opportunities to study how others live, such as the places they go, the meals they consume, and the objects they possess. “One of the reasons that the character of Ripley is forever sympathetic is the yearning and striving to be something other than himself, following an example that’s set out to him,” Fry says. “For him, it’s someone like Dickie. For us, it might be someone online.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“The Talented Mr. Ripley,” by Patricia Highsmith
“The Talented Mr. Ripley” (1999)
“Purple Noon” (1960)
“Ripley” (2024)
“Saltburn” (2023)
“The White Lotus” (2021—)
This episode originally aired on April 4, 2024. New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
The announcement of Kamala Harris’s Presidential run has set off one of the most pronounced vibe shifts in recent memory. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz make sense of the torrent of memes; the “unholy, immediate alliance” between the Harris campaign and the British pop artist Charli XCX’s album “BRAT”; and the endless comparisons to Armando Iannucci’s political satire “Veep.” This chaotic but mostly cheerful embrace of Harris’s candidacy stands in contrast to the national mood even a few days prior, when a pervasive sense of doom was dominant. How might we reconcile this moment of boosterism with the very real, long-term reasons for despair? “It’s really no use being a fan, because you tie yourself to something you have no control over,” Cunningham says. “Recenter your ideas of the future in things that you can feel and touch. I think that that is the imaginative problem of our time, especially when it comes to doom or not doom.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Dirty Dancing” (1987)
“BRAT,” by Charli XCX
“Veep” (2012-19)
“I Created ‘Veep.’ The Real-Life Version Isn’t So Funny,” by Armando Iannucci (The New York Times)
“Should We Go Extinct?: A Philosophical Dilemma for Our Unbearable Times,” by Todd May
“The Case for Being Unburdened by What Has Been,” by Rebecca Traister (New York Magazine)
“Are We Doomed? Here’s How to Think About It,” by Rivka Galchen (The New Yorker)
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
Critics at Large is off this week. In the meantime, enjoy a recent episode from Vanity Fair’s “Dynasty,” hosted by the executive editor Claire Howorth, along with the correspondents Katie Nicholl and Erin Vanderhoof. It’s been four years since Meghan Markle and Prince Harry walked away from their royal roles, sparking an endless stream of media attention and second-guessing from tabloids in the U.K. In the time since, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex have been carving out a semi-royal path in the court of Montecito, California. They’ve struck big-ticket Hollywood deals worth millions of dollars. Is their newfound celebrity status sustainable?
To discover more from “Dynasty” and other Vanity Fair podcasts, visit vanityfair.com/podcasts. -
In an essay published earlier this month, Andrea Skinner, the daughter of the lauded writer Alice Munro, detailed the sexual abuse she suffered as a child at the hands of Munro’s second husband, Gerald Fremlin. The piece goes on to describe how, even after Skinner told her of the abuse, years later, Munro chose to stay with him until his death, in 2013. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the revelations, which have raised familiar questions about what to do when beloved artists are found to have done unforgivable things. They’re joined by fellow staff writer Jiayang Fan, an avid reader of Munro’s work who’s been grappling with the news in real time. Together they revisit the 1993 story “Vandals,” which contains unsettling parallels to the scenario that played out in the Munro home. Have the years since the #MeToo movement given us more nuanced ways of addressing these flare-ups than full-out cancellation? “It’s not a moral loosening that I’m sensing,” Schwartz says. “It’s more of a sense of, Maybe I don’t want to throw out the work altogether—but I do need to wrestle.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“My Stepfather Sexually Abused Me When I Was a Child. My Mother, Alice Munro, Chose to Stay with Him,” by Andrea Skinner (The Toronto Star)
“Vandals,” by Alice Munro (The New Yorker)
“How My Mother and I Became Chinese Propaganda,” by Jiayang Fan (The New Yorker)
“The Love Album: Off the Grid,” by Diddy
“Ignition (Remix),” by R. Kelly
“Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma,” by Claire Dederer
“Manhattan” (1979)
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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In 1954, a young David Attenborough made his début as the star of a new nature show called “Zoo Quest.” The docuseries, which ran for nearly a decade on the BBC, was a sensation that set Attenborough down the path of his life’s work: exposing viewers to our planet’s most miraculous creatures and landscapes from the comfort of their living rooms. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz trace Attenborough’s filmography from “Zoo Quest” to his newest program, “Mammals,” a six-part series on BBC America narrated by the now- ninety-eight-year-old presenter. In the seventy years since “Zoo Quest” first aired, the genre it helped create has had to reckon with the effects of the climate crisis—and to figure out how to address such hot-button issues onscreen. By highlighting conservation efforts that have been successful, the best of these programs affirm our continued agency in the planet’s future. “One thing I got from ‘Mammals’ was not pure doom,” Schwartz says. “There are some options here. We have choices to make.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Mammals” (2024)
“Zoo Quest” (1954-63)
“Are We Changing Planet Earth?” (2006)
“The Snow Leopard,” by Peter Matthiessen
“My Octopus Teacher” (2020)
“Life on Our Planet” (2023)
“I Like to Get High at Night and Think About Whales,” by Samantha Irby
New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. -
Reality television has generally got a bad rap, but Emily Nussbaum—who received a Pulitzer Prize, in 2016, for her work as The New Yorker’s TV critic—sees that the genre has its own history and craft. Nussbaum’s new book “Cue the Sun!” is a history of reality TV, and roughly half the book covers the era before “Survivor,” which is often considered the starting point of the genre. She picks three formative examples from the Before Time to discuss with David Remnick: “Candid Camera,” “An American Family,” and “Cops.” She’s not trying to get you to like reality TV, but rather, she says, “I'm trying to get you to understand it.”
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There’s arguably no better time for falling down a cultural rabbit hole than the languid, transitory summer months. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss how the season allows us to foster a particular relationship with a work of art—whether it’s the soundtrack to a summer fling or a book that helps make sense of a new locale. Listeners divulge the texts that have consumed them over the years, and the hosts share their own formative obsessions, recalling how Brandy’s 1998 album, “Never Say Never,” defined a first experience at camp, and how a love of Jim Morrison’s music resulted in a teen-age pilgrimage to see his grave in Paris. But how do we square our past obsessions with our tastes and identities today? “Whatever we quote, whatever we make reference to, on so many levels is who we are,” Cunningham says. “It seems, to me, so precious.”
Read, watch, and listen with the critics:
“Heathers” (1988)
“Pump Up the Volume” (1990)
The poetry of Sergei Yesenin
The poetry of Alexander Pushkin
GoldenEye 007 (1997)
“Elvis” (2022)
“Jailhouse Rock” (1957)
“Pride & Prejudice” (2005)
The Neapolitan Novels, by Elena Ferrante
“Ramble On,” by Led Zeppelin
“Never Say Never,” by Brandy
“The Boy Is Mine,” by Brandy and Monica
“The End,” by The Doors
“The Last Waltz” (1978)
“The Witches of Eastwick,” by John Updike
“Atlas Shrugged,” by Ayn Rand
“Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl” (2003)
“Postcards from the Edge” (1990)
“Rent” (1996)New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.
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