My fears are the obvious ones: that marketplace-minded publishers - all four of them - will shy further away from literary fiction, international authors, poetry, and the other marginal but hugely important regions of the book world.

Richard Curtis, the writer and director of Love Actually, is brilliant at many things, but his genius, I submit, is for thrusting characters into situations in which they feel driven to humiliate themselves. Which is why we love them, especially when it's all in the name of love. He is the Bard of Embarrassment.

The movie's only serious criticism is reserved for Baker's television network, which doesn't think Americans care about Afghanistan - kind of hypocritical given this film's lack of substance.

The economic and technological changes are real, but I just can't bring myself to wax apocalyptic about the future of books.

Every year, I'm depressed that so few of the documentaries I've loved break through.

The movie is a metaphor for the power of delusional hype--a metaphor for itself.

The English have a wellspring of comedy that will never be exhausted: the combination of bestial urges and excellent manners.