The Brutalist Report - newyorker

The New Yorker

The New “Nosferatu” Drains the Life from Its Predecessor [64d]
How Much Does Our Language Shape Our Thinking? [64d]
The Year the Metropolitan Opera Declared War on the Critics [64d]
“Bass Lake,” by Safia Elhillo [64d]
“Black Doves” Offers a Sentimental Spin on the Spy Genre [64d]
Daily Cartoon: Monday, December 23rd [64d]
What Spotify Is Really Costing Us [64d]
He’s Making a List, and Checking It Twice [64d]
Letters from Our Readers [64d]
Diana Ejaita’s “Midnight Moments” [64d]
To the Detective Investigating My Murder [64d]
“Prelude in Grey Major,” by Christian Wiman [64d]
The Lonely Skepticism of a Bull-Market Skeptic [64d]
Does Morality Do Us Any Good? [64d]
Kyle Abraham’s Extraordinary Dance Memoir [64d]
Searching for (Real?) New Jersey Drones at a Fake Alien-Landing Site [64d]
The Hollywood Slog That Led Adam Scott to “Severance” [64d]
The Professional Health-Insurance-C.E.O. Nagger [64d]
Christmas Recalled, by the Feds [64d]
Andy Cohen Gets His Face (and the Rest of Him) in Wax [64d]
Alice Munro’s Passive Voice [64d]
Briefly Noted Book Reviews [64d]