Peter Tonguette

Who would have guessed that an Italian film made in 1957, starring one icon of that nation's cinema (Marcello Mastroianni) and directed by

As the credits roll, the ticket-buyers reenter the world.

I did not grow up in a large family—I count among my relations one sibling and a handful of cousins—and certainly not in a blended family: My dear parents were married once, to each other, for 44 years, until my father died in 2010. My mother never remarried. Yet when I recall my childhood and adolescence, I am struck by the sheer clamor that rings in my ears: the talk, the chatter, the ding of kitchen pots and pans, the crash of the backdoor. My father's whistle upon coming home from a business trip; my mother's laugh when she saw something funny on TV.

Early attempts to present real events on celluloid sometimes combined on-the-scene footage with staged reconstructions.

To call Spider-Man: Brand New Day a movie is to do a disservice to all other examples of filmed entertainment that bear the name.

The real end of Oak Street comes not from the feet and chompers of the dinosaurs but from a moviemaker who revives the idyllic 1980s only to desecrate them with wokeness.

In the pews, a manly example is indispensable.

The End of Oak Street may seem like a harmless, companionable, feel-good potpourri made up of parts from E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial Jurassic

I am an efficient but unspectacular cook. I have a sense of how long to sear a New York strip steak before putting it in the oven, and on a

Are Daffy Duck's days numbered? Is Porky Pig packing it in? Wither the Wascally Wabbit? Trusted reporting. Unlimited access.