Shmuley Boteach has never been what you might call shy. The man, whom others have described as a shameless self-publicist, would characterise himself slightly differently, as a shameless publicist for Jewish values — if he happens to become famous himself in the process, this merely means he is doing that job properly.
I am enthusiastically ushered onto the “Javelin Train” at St Pancras and I’m not even asked for a ticket. I marvel at the friendliness and efficiency of this part of the Olympic journey. A mere five minutes in a tunnel and I’m cast out into the dazzling Olympic light, heading for the bright Olympic Park, shining in the distance like an Olympic Disneyland.
The Aldeburgh Festival, based in Benjamin Britten’s home town on the Suffolk coast, is an annual highlight of the UK’s classical music calendar. Less attention, though, is generally focused on the year-round activities that take place at its Snape Maltings concert hall and the surrounding complex of studios.
'Crammed with incessant gibber-jabber" said the Washington Post. The San Francisco Chronicle described it as "a mess, but one you can't really look away from". And the AV Club blog worried about the prevalence of "self-righteous blather". Suffice to say, the reaction to Aaron Sorkin's latest series, The Newsroom, was not unequivocally flattering to the writer.
Sixty-six years ago, Miriam Issacaroff made an urgent call to her siblings in Tel Aviv, telling them she was sending her parents from Jerusalem to stay with them, asking them to keep them safe because "something big" was about to happen in the city.
It is a theme tune that has almost passed into cliche. As soon as you hear Vangelis’s Chariots of Fire music, it is impossible to stop yourself running in slow motion towards an imaginary tape.
Last week, the radio woke me up with the news that Nora Ephron had died. As so often, the announcement of one person's death was the final headline in a series about war, mass killing and destruction. And, as so often, it was that single death that caused the most sadness.
A Jewish wedding forms the opening frame of indie film-maker Todd Solondz's film, Dark Horse. Guests are seen dancing to the sound of loud music pumping, all with the exception of Abe (Jordan Gelber) and Miranda (Selma Blair), who are sitting awkwardly next to each other at a table, barely communicating.
If you enjoyed last year’s first instalment of ITV1’s prime-time documentary about the Manchester Jewish community, you will probably have enjoyed this two-parter, screened on successive nights this week, as it was identical to the first programme in most respects.
