“I attended the presentation to gain a larger appreciation of what goes into visual effects when making a movie,” Kirkman-Moriarty said. “The amount of work and the amount of results that they can achieve with visual effects today [is] really jawdropping.”
Poe was also the first 19th-century American writer that I read as a child, and almost everyone who went to public school will have probably encountered “The Raven,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” or “The Masque of the Red Death,” among other classics. Yet the nature of Poe’s legacy has always been a matter of dispute. Of course his influence on genre fiction cannot be overstated; he is one of the prime progenitors of the detective story and the adventure story.
“It’s hard to dislike that kind of music,” said Mueller. “Intense music doesn’t make me feel as happy.”
Nothing warms a snowed-in college student like the warm glow of a television. Here are The Berkeley Beacon’s picks for the best way to spend your day off.
With hits like Guardians of the Galaxy and Maleficent raking in globs of money in 2014, that statistic seems surprising. But for anyone who goes to the movies on a somewhat frequent basis, it’s not shocking. Going to a movie theater is becoming an increasingly less desirable option.
Junior Alejandro Peña is afraid of death. Truly afraid; he said he can’t fly without being heavily medicated and gets anxious just watching the news. Yet with his latest film, death has become his muse.
After changing the face of television in the ’70s through iconic shows like All in the Family, The Jeffersons and Good Times, Norman Lear recently released his latest creative endeavor: his new memoir, Even This I Get to Experience.
For a brief period, I was Watertown Middle School’s biggest Green Day fan. But 2004’s American Idiot came out while I was in seventh grade, and I couldn’t get into it. Its mock-political premise was different from the snotty pop-punk Green Day, the band I initially fell in love with. The inherent schmaltz of ubiquitous radio smash “Boulevard Of Broken Dreams” didn’t sit well with my budding music identity.
Poetry, as the great 20th century poet Robert Hayden once said, remains a mysterious thing, and our increasingly pragmatic and fast-paced world is often lacking in mystery. When I encounter a truly great poem, I feel that I am in the presence of something larger than myself.
Carrie Rudzinski took a notebook to her senior prom. She took a notebook to a friend’s wedding. She takes a notebook with her everywhere.
Sophomore Michael Levine, the play's director, said he wanted the show to provide hope for kids who may be struggling with their lives at home.
On Tuesday afternoon, there was a gaggle of seven young men tuning instruments and perfecting harmonies in the lobby of Little Building. Their dress wasn’t distinctive, at least not at Emerson; there was a mix of peacoats, flannel, boat shoes, and ratty sweaters. More than half of them were wearing beanies. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Vivian Maier, who worked as a nanny, used a variety of different pseudonyms in her lifetime: V. Smith, V. Meyer, V. Mayer. She spoke in a French accent that may or may not have been fake. She moved around a lot, and each room that she stayed in was reportedly padlocked.
When critics and magazine columnists compile a list of the greatest film comedians, the answers are always the same: Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, the Marx Brothers, maybe Robin Williams or Bill Murray. But there’s one name you almost never see: Jacques Tati.
Sophomore Rebecca Crandall was supposed to write a story for her fiction workshop class, but she had no idea what to write about.