Noah Berlatsky

The cover for A-Force is a combination of tired trope and deodorant ad. Female empowerment can do so much better.

Katniss is the voice of conscience and morality in the film, and in The Hunger Games series as a whole. In the just released last film in the series, she tries repeatedly to avoid unnecessary deaths. She insists that refugees from an attacked base be given an escape route, for example, and exposes herself in an effort to help them.

Daredevil focuses on the dynamics of heroism—the display of strength and violence as a way to distance oneself from weakness.

As a white woman, Swift can afford to celebrate carelessness. Beyoncé, though, knows that even her casualness has to be perfect.

According to an Academy Awards voter, the right sort of people, with the right sort of education and connections, can't be racist.

With the prospect of another Bush/Clinton presidential contest looming as ominously as Donald Trump's hairpiece, the word "dynasty" seems to be frothing off of many a pundit's keyboard. "Clinton, Bush struggle to shed dynasty labels," a Washington Post headline declared.

Last year there was much excitement at the announcement that Lupita Nyong'o was going to play a major role in Star Wars: The Force Awakens — the first Black woman to star in the franchise.

Fifth Harmony is nobody's idea of a roots band.

Illicit passions aren't less enjoyable because they're illicit. Quite the contrary.

The history of pop music, and of black pop music in particular, has always been gay history.