Naomi Fry

In 1990, three daughters of rock royalty—nepo babies before the term was invented—released “Hold On,” a song so wholesome and unguarded that it could disarm even the angstiest teen.

Being asked to name my favorite book of all time feels like way too much pressure (apologies to the asker, this newsletter's editor). The older I

The director Christopher Nolan has been accused of “woke-ifying” Homer’s epic. But finding new resonance in ancient texts is part of the art of translation itself.

A new game show features celebrities competing for the title of “Nation’s Dumbest.” How did stupidity become a badge of honor?

A new exhibition at the International Center of Photography presents the designer precisely as he wanted to be seen.

The 1997 album marked a crossroads for hip-hop, as the genre was being torn between elaborate mythmaking and a kind of true crime.

Barbara Kopple’s documentary follows a generation of starlets, moguls, and other tanned partygoers who have no idea what tragedies and class anxieties lie in store.

With “It Ends,” Alex Ullom takes his place in a cohort of young horror directors who are translating the anxieties of their generation to the big screen—and upending the film landscape while they’re at it.

Yes, there are Botox parties and rollerblading dates, but the women in the family's latest spinoff give the sense that they are just clocking in at the reality-show office.

The New Yorker's critics take stock of the star's life and legacy.