While TV and movies can blur into the digital noise of everyday life, books demand focus and invite an intimate exchange with an author’s voice. They are direct, portable, inexpensive to make, and easy to share—which makes them both impactful and difficult to control.
We usually think of comedy as escape, a chance to laugh and forget. And while there is always room for big, broad comedies, films like "Sorry, Baby" build a different kind of resilience.
Hearing a modern audience react to "Jaws" is proof that you don’t need CGI spectacle to create an outsized impact: 50 years later, Spielberg's malfunctioning mechanical shark is still scarier than most of today’s digital monsters.
When Pacino screamed “Attica” in 1975, audiences felt its sting because they knew what it meant. Today, it plays differently—a plea from the past, brimming with anger, asking us not to forget.
The release of "The Naked Gun" is a welcome reminder of why comedies have always been essential to movie history: When it comes to the theatrical experience, there is nothing like laughing with a crowd.
When it feels like we are stuck in the darkest timeline, retrofuturism reminds us that the future is not fixed—and that facing down the darkness with hopefulness can be an act of heroism all on its own.
What do Westerns look like in the 21st century, when the West is won and the internet makes even the most desolate of places part of the global community?
You would think that after nearly 100 years of movies sounding the alarm, we might have taken the hint. Instead, we live with remakes and sequels that shift the messaging to match the times.
The claustrophobia of the car is a perfect fit for the movies. Cars can take you wherever you want to go, sure, but for the duration of that trip you are confined in a small space with no escape.
Ever since "E.T." phoned home in 1982, filmmakers have used alien encounters as metaphors for the outsider experience, crafting some of the most heartfelt coming-of-age stories in movie history.
We make something new when we shout at the screen next to a hundred other fans and throw confetti in the air: a powerful movie moment that exists beyond the confines of the silver screen.
When we laugh in the dark, side by side, we find something bigger than ourselves. We find relief. We find connection. And sometimes, we find that the things that scare us the most are easier to face with a little laughter—and a full house.
Think of navigating events like the Berkshire International Film Festival, which returns to The Triplex for its 19th year this Friday, like setting out on a road trip.
