ml_vk2pa

<div class="at-above-post-homepage addthis_tool" data-url="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/reviews/stars-voice-born-path-forward/"></div>In the new rock musical, A Star Is Born, Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga fuse their considerable talents to depict the raw and passionate tale of Jackson and Ally, two artistic souls coming together on stage and in life. The film paints a portrait of a couple’s arduous journey through the beauty and heartbreak of a relationship struggling to survive against the pressures of success, addiction, and trauma. Coincidentally opening on the <a href="https://www.thecut.com/2018/10/kavanaugh-protestors-know-its-a-painful-road-to-progress.html">eve of Brett Kavanaugh’s highly-protested confirmation as a Supreme Court Justice, and the release of Rebecca Traister’s bestselling book</a> Good and Mad, about the history of women’s anger, it’s also a stunning — and timely — statement about the power of a woman’s voice.
In A Star is Born, that voice is Gaga’s — the multiple award-winning, Oscar-nominated music superstar in her first leading role in a major motion picture. The four-time Oscar nominee Cooper (American Sniper, American Hustle, Silver Linings Playbook), makes his directorial debut in what appears to be a classic in the making, on track to be the film to beat for Best Picture at this year’s Academy Awards. He stars alongside her as the seasoned musician Jackson Maine, who discovers and falls in love with Gaga as struggling singer-songwriter Ally. Cooper’s rendition of the iconic love story is not the first or second remake — in fact, it’s the fourth. This has left critics and fans posing the question: how will this film be remembered for generations to come? What will it stand for?
A number of famous writers and actresses have taken on A Star Is Born over the last eight decades, including the likes of Dorothy Parker and Judy Garland (1937), and Joan Didion and Barbra Streisand (1976), allowing the Esther character (or in this case, Ally) to take on varying levels of personal agency in her rise to fame while her male counterpart falls behind.
But this version of the film — and its show-stopping original soundtrack, which quickly reached the top of the charts after its release — seems to be calling for change — both in one of Hollywood’s favorite narratives and in our real life “(‘mad’) women versus (‘bad’) men” battle playing out in Washington. In doing so, it seemingly echoes another musically-driven cinematic call for change: Simon &amp; Garfunkel’s soundtrack to Mike Nichols’s landmark film <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2018/01/the-pop-innovations-of-a-50-year-old-soundtrack/550244/">The Graduate</a>, <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2018/01/the-pop-innovations-of-a-50-year-old-soundtrack/550244/">50 years ago.</a>
If Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman’s character) represented the angst of the young baby-boomer generation in 1968, Ally Maine in A Star Is Born represents the collective strength of women in 2018. Both soundtracks have the power to unite us; the former, in a shared feeling of apathy (“The Sound of Silence”), and the latter in a shared feeling of anger and frustration — but also of hope and resilience (“Is that alright?”). In 1968, amid the draft for the bloody Vietnam War, the civil rights movement, and the King and Kennedy assassinations, the familiar sounds of folk-rock and the minimalist cinematic style of The Graduate stood as a reminder of how difficult it can be to challenge the status quo — even as Nichols himself was breaking new ground with the film and its soundtrack.
Darkness, the old friend, was welcomed back again and again. The unique folk-rock sound of Simon &amp; Garfunkel was played over and over in the dorm rooms of college students as they considered an uncertain future together, while, perhaps, Gaga’s “Til It Happens To You” (from the campus rape documentary “The Hunting Ground”) might foreshadow a similar community-driven association of film, music, and sociopolitical change — one that doesn’t come along everyday.
Today, Cooper’s A Star Is Born draws on a rich history of Hollywood folklore to tell a decidedly new story that seems to draw on the fact that personal agency is top of mind for young women in the context of Kavanaugh, just as it was 50 years ago in the backdrop of the women’s movement that saw landmark decisions change how we live and love. But this movie at its core is about coming together to rise up, reminding us about the dangers of trying to go it alone. When it comes to trauma, we need each other early, often, and always.
In the lyrics of one of the first songs Jackson sings in the film, “Maybe It’s Time,” we can see we’re headed in a new direction that opens up the possibility for men and women to shed preconceived notions of the past in order to move forward: “It takes a lot to change a man and it takes a lot to try; maybe it’s time to let the old ways die.”
The film was personal for both of its stars. Cooper recently said in an interview with People Magazine that he felt particularly drawn to making this film because for him, he realizes “time is the greatest currency now,” recognizing the fragility of life itself and explaining that he felt he could bring a strong, fresh point-of-view to the story. Having experienced the loss of his father to lung cancer in 2011, and having reportedly struggled with depression, an ear injury, and alcohol and substance abuse himself, one might imagine there’s more of the deeply private Cooper in Jackson’s story than he’s willing to admit.
For Gaga, the story of a woman’s rise in music and the associated gender politics are also deeply personal. While Cooper’s focus has been on putting his heart and soul into the collaboration and partnership in making the film (it also stars the likes of Andrew Dice Clay, Dave Chappelle, and Sam Elliott), Gaga’s has been on supporting women speaking up and out about sexual assault. Through her <a href="https://bornthisway.foundation/">Born This Way Foundation</a>, she’s been calling for more kindness and compassion across the board.
“What would be wonderful — not just for artists — but for the whole world, is that we intervene early in life for those we see struggling,” she said in an interview at the Toronto International Film Festival. She also spoke out in support of Christine Blasey Ford in a recent appearance on The Stephen Colbert Show, leaving him speechless.
In her first duet with Jackson on stage, Ally gets an opportunity to see what can happen when she’s able to trust someone else — and herself — completely, after having been told she didn’t have the right “look” to be a successful singer-songwriter for years. Together, they sing <a href="https://youtu.be/bo_efYhYU2A">“Shallow”</a>:
[Verse 1: Bradley Cooper]
Tell me somethin&#8217; girl 
Are you happy in this modern world? 
Or do you need more 
Is there somethin&#8217; else you&#8217;re searchin&#8217; for?
[Chorus: Lady Gaga]
I&#8217;m off the deep end 
Watch as I dive in 
I&#8217;ll never meet the ground 
Crash through the surface 
Where they can&#8217;t hurt us 
We&#8217;re far from the shallow now
The film is full of metaphors, both devastating and wonderful. They’re working together, harmonizing on stage as Ally learns to literally use her voice to rise up. She’s in control, while he’s stumbling and fumbling. Still, she recognizes the transcendent power of his support: “You found the light in me that I couldn’t find,” she sings in “Remember Us This Way.”
“All you gotta do is trust me,” Jackson says to coax Ally out on stage.
In real life, Cooper and Gaga have found a soulful, professional partnership together, and what they believe will be an abiding friendship born out of mutual respect. “Bradley is not your typical first-time feature director,” producer Lynette Howell Taylor has said. “He’s a real collaborator, he learns, he pays attention.”
In the film, he reminds Ally often to speak up and tell the truth. It’s enough to stand up and say something. It matters. And in the end, she’s standing on her own.
What could happen if we were surrounded by men and women who actually do have integrity, who might give us — and the next generation — an opportunity to be vulnerable and safe at the same time? Most importantly, how much magic are we missing out on when we don’t create that kind of atmosphere every day for our children, artists, athletes, students, colleagues, friends, family, and lovers?
Indeed, maybe it’s time to let the old ways die.
<div class="at-below-post-homepage addthis_tool" data-url="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/reviews/stars-voice-born-path-forward/"></div>

A Star&#8217;s Voice is Born: A Path Forward

love-loss-hi-res-pdf_preview

etic_10601_courtesy-hbo_preview

<div class="at-above-post-homepage addthis_tool" data-url="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/reviews/nora-delia-ephrons-love-loss-wore-10-years-later/"></div>In a packed theater in Santa Barbara, California in mid-May, my mother and I joined hundreds of other women (and a few brave men) in an audience for a special one-night-only performance of Nora and Delia Ephron’s off-Broadway hit play Love, Loss, And What I Wore, based on the bestselling book of the same title by Ilene Beckerman.
The play features five women sharing monologues and ensemble pieces about their memories. They communicate these through the lens of their clothes, often with a rotating cast of film and television actresses such as Samantha Bee, Rosie O’Donnell, Tyne Daly, and Christine Lahti. The play won the 2010 Drama Desk Award for Unique Theatrical Performance.
The cast of this outstanding performance included California State Senator Hannah-Beth Jackson (who is actively working on legislation to protect women against abuse in the workplace), six-time Emmy nominee Meredith Baxter, as well as Hattie Winston, Kathryne Dora Brown, and Lily Gibson. The play was directed by <a href="http://www.directorjennysullivan.com/about/">Jenny Sullivan</a>, who led the show’s epic run at the Geffen Playhouse in 2010 — a seven-month, rotating-cast extravaganza that broke box office records for the venue.
When Love, Loss premiered in 2008, it was praised for being both touching and unsentimental. It had that special je ne sais quoi quality, one that the Ephron sisters had managed to pull off in the tricky romantic comedy genre by writing and directing You’ve Got Mail, among their other classics.
But 10 years later, how have the stories in Love, Loss held up? And in this era of #MeToo, Time’s Up, and women’s marches, why does it matter?
Most vividly, the moments of the play that directly touch on rape and abuse now seem even more relevant than perhaps they did then. But throughout the women’s diverse set of 28 stories about breast cancer, the death of a parent, bad boyfriends, and prom dresses — buried beneath the layers — were many quieter struggles that speak to a broader sense of the often difficult decisions we face alone and in silence.
The play is also about magical thinking. In a particularly poignant monologue, a woman remembers the electric blue robe her mother once wore. She recalls coming home and finding the side of her mother’s closet empty after her death. This electric blue robe, along with all of its particular details, is the only piece of clothing that evokes meaning to her.
<figure id="attachment_7964" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-7964" style="width: 580px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" class="wp-image-7964" src="http://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/etic_10601_courtesy-hbo_preview-1024x689.jpg" alt="" width="580" height="390" srcset="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/etic_10601_courtesy-hbo_preview-1024x689.jpg 1024w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/etic_10601_courtesy-hbo_preview-300x202.jpg 300w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/etic_10601_courtesy-hbo_preview-768x517.jpg 768w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/etic_10601_courtesy-hbo_preview.jpg 2048w" sizes="(max-width: 580px) 100vw, 580px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-7964" class="wp-caption-text">Nick Pileggi and Nora Ephron. Image courtesy of HBO</figcaption></figure>
In a 2015 interview with author and journalist Richard Reeves, Nora’s husband Nick Pileggi softly revealed the quiet, aching void he still felt when he was at home in New York, nearly three years after the director&#8217;s death. The texture, the smell, the uniqueness of her — it’s undoubtedly what he misses most.
“He refused to get rid of her clothes,” Reeves said. “They smell like her.”
¤
When Nora first picked up Beckerman’s book, she felt a strong connection to the material from the start.
&#8220;This is not about fashion; it is about what clothes really are to us, those moments when we are constantly trying to find our identity through them and either failing or succeeding,” she said during a <a href="http://www.hamptons.com/Out-And-About/Top-Stories/9633/Nora-Ephron-Brings-Laughs-To-Madison-Avenue.html%23.Wvh5UtMvzZ4">Q&amp;A session in 2009 with </a><a href="http://www.hamptons.com/Out-And-About/Top-Stories/9633/Nora-Ephron-Brings-Laughs-To-Madison-Avenue.html%23.Wvh5UtMvzZ4">Elle</a><a href="http://www.hamptons.com/Out-And-About/Top-Stories/9633/Nora-Ephron-Brings-Laughs-To-Madison-Avenue.html%23.Wvh5UtMvzZ4"> Magazine</a>.
Never one to take on a serious issue without humor, she immediately thought the book could work as a play, adding her own comedic sensibility and her sister Delia’s to Beckerman’s material. &#8220;We both share half a brain,” she added. “We both have the same historical references; we both think that the &#8216;Archie&#8217; comic books are a template for everything. We laugh at the same things.&#8221;
The sisters commissioned stories from 100 of their friends via email, and some of those highlighted in the play are from the likes of O’Donnell, Anne Navasky, and the late Nancy Short, among others.
When Nora said that the play is about identity, maybe I related a little too much. At moments, I was laughing out loud, as I recognized myself in many of the vignettes about fashion tragedies. Of course, I was laughing during her famous “I hate my purse” essay from the bestselling I Feel Bad About My Neck collection, which makes an appearance towards the end of the play: “I tried spending quite a lot of money on a purse, the theory being that having an expensive purse would inspire me to become a different person.”
One of Delia’s contributions about high heels (“heels or think?”) was also all-too-relatable. It reveals our ongoing problematic relationship with the things we must wear, want to wear, hate to wear, and need to wear as we perform our femininity at work and at home.
At its best, Love, Loss is about our shared humanity in the common experience of what seems trivial, pointing to the times it wasn’t trivial — who you were when you bought the thing, wore the thing, and most importantly, loved the thing, and perhaps lost yourself in it. Most poignantly, the women help you remember who you were when you had to let it go… or perhaps who you could be if you did.
The play is about our relationships — not with the clothes themselves, but with the people they represent — with our mothers, sisters, daughters, husbands, and lovers. But what about when that person is the one looking back at us in the mirror? That’s when the stories get really good — and also, at times, really difficult.
“It’s not a ‘chick’ play,” says Sullivan, who grew up with the Ephron sisters and was chosen to work directly with them while staging the play at the Geffen. “It’s a document of a time for women and of the collaboration of Delia and Nora.”
As for the document of a time for women in 2018? Clothes matter to women, and what matters to women matters to us all.
The play is also about the loss of Nora. When she died in 2012, fans around the world mourned. But her sister Delia was unable to shake her grief as she tried to manage the gravity of publicly dealing with her personal loss. She wrote about their special relationship in 2013, in her best-selling memoir, Sister, Mother, Husband, Dog.
Then, something magical happened.
“I couldn’t think or write or sleep. I realized, I’m falling in love. I am 72 years old, how is this possible?” She wrote in an <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/27/opinion/sunday/delia-ephron-love-leukemia.html">op-ed for The New York Times</a> last year. Her sister, long before her death, had set her up with a man, over 54 years earlier. Now, she and the man had a second date, and a second chance at love.
“The day of our date, I had an excellent blow-dry. I spent way too much time considering what to wear,” Delia wrote. “I was tongue-tied at dinner. I believe I asked him his favorite color. My brain was jumbled by his presence, by the ghost of my husband who would only want me to be happy, but still.”
In love, and loss, it all came back to her relationship with her dear sister.
“… I look at Peter and wonder how this miracle happened to us. My sister, of course.”
<div class="at-below-post-homepage addthis_tool" data-url="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/reviews/nora-delia-ephrons-love-loss-wore-10-years-later/"></div>

Nora and Delia Ephron&#8217;s Love, Loss, and What I Wore, 10 Years Later

Nora and Delia Ephron&#8217;s Love, Loss, and What I Wore, 10 Years Later

untitled

THE POST

etic_7261_ss_wellesley1962legendanewscopy21

<div class="at-above-post-homepage addthis_tool" data-url="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/essays/spielbergs-post-one-important-feminist-films-year-honors-two-journalism-legends/"></div>Steven Spielberg&#8217;s new film The Post, which opens in wide release January 12, is an important coming-of-age story for women in any industry fighting for the right to speak.
It’s also one of the most personal films the legendary filmmaker has ever made. Fast-tracked to be finished by year&#8217;s end, it all started with a Pulitzer Prize-winning memoir and an idea for a screenplay from a young female screenwriter named Liz Hannah.
“I was really depressed about the way things were happening in the world and the country,” Spielberg told Vanity Fair’s Rebecca Keegan at the Director’s Guild in November. “Liz Hannah, 31-years-old, writes a spec script and gets it to Amy Pascal, who sends it to me, and suddenly my entire outlook on the future brightened overnight. It was there on the paper. I just felt that there was an urgency to reflect 1971 and 2017, because it was very terrifyingly similar.”
Throughout his career, Spielberg has been drawn to those moments on which historical transformations turn in films, ranging from Schindler’s List to Munich to Bridge of Spies. The Post is based on the true events that unfolded when the Washington Post and the New York Times formed a pragmatic alliance in the wake of the Times’s incendiary exposure of the top secret study that would become known as the Pentagon Papers.
The film is a celebration not only of the importance of the fourth estate, but of two iconic women in publishing: Katharine Graham, the brilliant late former publisher of the Washington Post, as well as the equally brilliant Nora Ephron, the late journalist, essayist, filmmaker, and author who paved the way for many of us — including Spielberg, Tom Hanks (who plays editor Ben Bradlee, introduced in real life to Hanks by Ephron), Meryl Streep, who plays Graham in the film, and indirectly to Hannah and other emerging female screenwriters.
<figure id="attachment_6736" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-6736" style="width: 640px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" class="size-large wp-image-6736" src="http://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/the-post-dom-nor_d00_052317_7961_r_rgb-1024x624.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="390" srcset="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/the-post-dom-nor_d00_052317_7961_r_rgb-1024x624.jpg 1024w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/the-post-dom-nor_d00_052317_7961_r_rgb-300x183.jpg 300w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/the-post-dom-nor_d00_052317_7961_r_rgb-768x468.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-6736" class="wp-caption-text">Meryl Streep, Director Steven Spielberg, and Tom Hanks on the set of THE POST. Photo Credit: Niko Tavernise. © 2017 TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX FILM CORP.</figcaption></figure>
Along with Wonder Woman and Lady Bird, it&#8217;s possibly one of the most important feminist films of 2017, honoring Ephron&#8217;s creed to &#8220;make a little trouble out there on behalf of women.&#8221; Though she died in 2012, her legacy lives on in the pursuit of truth by journalists in our own post-Weinstein and Trump era, as well as in the moments of triumph memorialized in Hannah’s script. It is fitting, then, that Spielberg dedicated the film to her; she was more than his former neighbor in East Hampton, she was one of his most beloved friends and mentors.
Like Graham, Ephron lived not one or two lives, but many, as a woman determined to reinvent herself whenever she saw fit (or, as Mike Nichols put it, “like a cat, changing direction in mid-air”). The two women had much in common, particularly in proving to the world that neither grief, nor heartbreak, nor gender politics could deter them from becoming legends in media. Both suffered public affairs in their marriages, and both rose above them to become even better versions of themselves, falling in love with their jobs in the process.
The script Hannah and collaborator Josh Singer (who co-wrote Spotlight) wrote for The Post focused on a key moment in Graham’s 1997 memoir, Personal History, following the suicide of her husband and her uneasy foray into taking over the family publishing business. While balancing the decision to take the company public in an effort to stay profitable (in doing so, she became the first female CEO of a Fortune 500 company in 1972), Graham is also faced with the decision of whether to publish the Pentagon Papers, which would reveal that four presidential administrations had been covering up the truth about the deadly war in Vietnam that took the lives of 58,220 service members and directly caused the loss of more than a million lives. The decision to support Bradlee and his editorial team in publishing the papers also set the stage for Watergate, and for the Washington Post’s continued commitment to defending democracy and holding those in power accountable.
“There was something very relatable to a woman finding her voice, to standing with men and being overlooked, over-talked…and making that decision to stand on her own two feet,” Hannah has said.
The courage of conviction shown by Graham in the face of intimidation from not only her all-male board, but from the nation&#8217;s highest office — including possible prison time — as she decided to publish the Pentagon Papers in 1971, is a timely and important reminder of the power of refusing to be silenced in the face of fear. (Streep, of course, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/03/movies/meryl-streep-tom-hanks-the-post-metoo.html">has not been immune</a> to this discussion herself in light of her longtime association with disgraced Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein.)
Initially, Ephron came to know Graham tangentially as a “mail girl” at Newsweek when it was still owned by The Washington Post Company in the 1960’s. She was told at the time she was hired that women did not become writers there, an issue that became a landmark class-action lawsuit in 1970, dramatized in last year’s Amazon original series Good Girls Revolt. (In a not-so-ironic turn of events, the show was canceled, reportedly, with “no women at the table” despite strong reviews and ratings. Though talks picked up to renew it after Roy Price’s resignation this fall, it has since been announced that it will not return for a second season.) She later married famed Watergate journalist Carl Bernstein; they later split, and Ephron about the affair in the bestselling novel and screenplay, Heartburn.
<figure id="attachment_6737" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-6737" style="width: 640px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><img loading="lazy" class="size-large wp-image-6737" src="http://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/etic_7261_ss_wellesley1962legendanewscopy21-1024x558.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="349" srcset="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/etic_7261_ss_wellesley1962legendanewscopy21-1024x558.jpg 1024w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/etic_7261_ss_wellesley1962legendanewscopy21-300x164.jpg 300w, https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/etic_7261_ss_wellesley1962legendanewscopy21-768x419.jpg 768w" sizes="(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px" /><figcaption id="caption-attachment-6737" class="wp-caption-text">Courtesy: HBO/Everything Is Copy. Used with permission.</figcaption></figure>
While she’s best known for her beloved and critically-acclaimed films, such as When Harry Met Sally… and Silkwood, it was during Ephron’s first career as a journalist and essayist at Esquire in the early 1970’s that she established her voice as a forward-thinking writer on everything from her candid disdain for the size of her breasts (in 1972 Esquire article “A Few Words About Breasts”), to the complicated relationships between women and men, work, love, friendship, and family.
Ephron covered “women’s issues” before “women’s issues” had become part of a potent movement, or a part of mainstream publishing. “Along came Nora,” Washington Post columnist Richard Cohen wrote in his 2016 book, She Made Me Laugh: My Friend Nora Ephron. “She was not only a woman, but she was writing for women. Best of all, she was no doctrinaire feminist.”
Graham, too, had to come to terms with her definition of feminism in her own way, becoming one of the most powerful women in America in the process, and a pioneer on behalf of the women to follow, something Ephron noted in her <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/02/09/reviews/970209.09ephront.html">New York Times Book Review</a><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/books/97/02/09/reviews/970209.09ephront.html"> article </a>on Graham’s memoir in 1997: “The story of her journey from daughter to wife to widow to woman parallels to a surprising degree the history of women in this century.”
Ultimately, though, it’s Graham, Ephron, and Spielberg’s commitment to their respective crafts that unites them, and through The Post, has the power to unite us all. They’ve also each helped set the gold standard on defending the right to publish, create, write, and speak — even when commercial interests or political pressure might persuade others not to do so.
When I asked Cohen if Ephron was afraid of anything, he didn’t hesitate before he said no. “I don’t recall anything that scared her,” he continued. “She was always up for anything. The courage that she had ultimately was the courage of a writer — to take on anything and say anything, as long as she was honest. In fact, I couldn’t get over it — she was afraid of nothing.”
For Ephron, writing was more than a way to make a living. It was a way of life. It became her saving grace after her very public and painful split from Bernstein, in between successful films in Hollywood, and, most poignantly, as she came to terms with the knowledge that she had a fatal disease in 2006. To stop writing would have been “like a death that preceded death,” Cohen wrote.
So, where does this prequel to All the President’s Men leave us — the women writing, publishing, and pushing boundaries in 2018? With much more work to do. At least we have new inspiration from our journalistic foremothers, and strength from our filmmaking sisters of the future.
&nbsp;
&nbsp;
<h6>Header image: Meryl Streep stars as Kay Graham in Twentieth Century Fox’s THE POST. Photo Credit: Niko Tavernise. © 2017 TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX FILM CORP. </h6>
<div class="at-below-post-homepage addthis_tool" data-url="https://blog.lareviewofbooks.org/essays/spielbergs-post-one-important-feminist-films-year-honors-two-journalism-legends/"></div>

Spielberg’s The Post, One of the Most Important Feminist Films of the Year, Honors Two Journalism Legends

Spielberg’s The Post, One of the Most Important Feminist Films of the Year, Honors Two Journalism Legends

Kristin Marguerite Doidge is a writer and lecturer at Loyola Marymount University whose work has appeared in Fortune, Marie Claire, The Atlantic, and on NPR. She holds a master’s degree from the University of Southern California’s Annenberg School of Journalism. She was&nbsp;a 2018 LARB/USC Publishing Workshop Fellow. Connect with her on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/kmarguerite_usc?lang=en">@KMarguerite_USC</a>.

Kristin Marguerite Doidge

Poetic and Real: A Conversation with Mark Harris

"There is only one thing that can kill the Movies, and that is education." — Will Rogers

Film

Kristin Marguerite Doidge is a writer and lecturer at Loyola Marymount University whose work has appeared in Fortune, Marie Claire, The Atlantic, and on NPR. She holds a master’s degree from the University of Southern California’s Annenberg School of Journalism. She was&nbsp;a 2018 LARB/USC Publishing Workshop Fellow. Connect with her on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/kmarguerite_usc?lang=en">@KMarguerite_USC</a>.