Review

A new film that feels both primordial and futuristic.

Ninety-nine poems that weave a polyvocal philosophy of the everyday.

“My relation with the guitar is one of struggle—I’m constantly forcing it to be something else: a saxophone, a scream, a cart rolling down a hill…”

A book that asks questions more than provides answers.

The retrospective of Hannah Wilke’s career “invites viewers to notice the overlooked details in Wilke’s works, so they can fully embrace the pleasures and contradictions that linger beneath—and, at times, explicitly atop—their surfaces.”

With references rangeing from Lou Reed to the Talmud, activist and writer Gregg Bordowitz’s improvisational lecture considers “whiteness, Jewish humor and mysticism, the ongoing AIDS crisis, and diaspora itself. You know, the light stuff.”

R. Kikuo Johnson’s third graphic novel is a “meditative and melancholy story that’s nevertheless bristling with energy and dry humor.”

Illustrator and memoirist Tamara Shopsin’s debut novel is set in TekServe, the iconic Mac repair shop of the 1990s, and is populated by geeks, celebrity cameos, and anthropomorphized machine parts.

Myriam J. A. Chancy’s eighth book follows eleven people whose lives were upended by the catastrophic earthquake that struck Haiti in 2010.

Lincoln Michel’s debut novel is a surreal sci-fi noir investigating a scandalous death in a futuristic, pharmaceutical-fueled baseball league.

Les Filles de Illighadad’s music is driven by three guitars but remains free from the “tyranny of the solo.”

Wojnarowicz: F**k You F*ggot F**ker (World of Wonder) a documentary by Chris McKim, pays tribute David Wojnarowicz, capturing the care and ferocity of the AIDS activist and artist.

Rosine Mbaka’s film Delphine’s Prayers (Tândor Films) documents her friend—a fellow Cameroonian immigrant in Brussels—as she reckons with the aftermath of sexual violence.

Nanfu Wang’s documentary In the Same Breath (HBO) chronicles the COVID-19 pandemic, its paradoxical propaganda, and how China and the US “responded to the spread of the coronavirus by protecting their public image above all else.”

Elisa Shua Dusapin’s debut novel, Winter in Sokcho, transports us to the off-season in a resort town near the North Korean border.

Matthew Soules’s Icebergs, Zombies, and the Ultra Thin looks at how finance-driven architecture is disrupting cities “not through gentrification but rather through zombification.”

From weapons of war to their artistic applications, Alex Quicho’s book Small Gods takes a comprehensive look at drones in the 21st century.

In Things I Have Withheld, Kei Miller’s most personal collection to date, the Caribbean philosopher addresses “his own body and its implications.”

The first English translation of the Romanian writer’s novel—a poetic exploration of the body that both engages and resists gender.

What we see when we watch writers write.