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The screen opens up with beautiful shots of a wedding on the Queen Elizabeth II ship. Nat King Cole’s crooning voice on “L-O-V-E” sounds through the screen. Fireworks begin to sizzle to the edges of the frame. The credits roll: “Dennis Quaid … Natasha Richardson …”
“I honestly think Pitch Perfect did wonders for college a cappella,” Victoria Conroy (C ’24), music director of the pop/rock a cappella group Off The Beat, told Street. “I think one of the reasons that it was so successful is that there’s nothing like college a cappella … and there’s just something about it that draws people into it.”
Supreme Kirby–in–Chief: “I’m such a tactile little chomper.”
For the past 365 days, I've kept a photo diary on Instagram, documenting the minutiae of everyday life—the joyful moments and the challenging ones, too. One year has amounted to dozens of sweet, lighthearted photos with friends old and new, too many photos of food captured moments before ravenous consumption, at least half a dozen outfit–of–the–day videos, and the occasional selfie of me grinning and bearing the pain of academic dread.
If there’s one thing The White Lotus is sure to make you ponder, it’s the number of murders that can be committed at a luxury resort before anybody steps in to explore.
2022 has been an incredible year for film and television. Audiences were able to revisit classic characters and worlds as we soared the skies with Lieutenant Pete “Maverick” Mitchell and were welcomed back to dragon–filled Westeros.
A few weekends ago, as I was getting ready to go out, I received a horrifying text message from my mother: “I started watching Tell Me Lies.” For any girl who just started college, if your mom sends you this same text, you should scream, panic, and very quickly change your family’s Hulu password.
On Oct. 16, the 60th New York Film Festival (NYFF), presented by Film at Lincoln Center, came to an end after a 17–day cinematic marathon. Featuring a wide range of quirky, subversive, and most importantly, inherently different films from across the world, the festival is a potent testament to the youth of cinematic art and its everlasting appeal, even after the severe effects from the COVID–19 pandemic. Since its creation in 1963, the NYFF is one of the longest–running and most prestigious non–competitive film festivals in the United States.
Warning: this article contains spoilers for 'Do Revenge.'
CO–OP Restaurant & Bar is nestled on South 33rd Street in University City, catering to residents and visitors alike, offering them a refined, yet unpretentious dining experience. The restaurant is just as chic as its café space and hotel aptly named “The Study.” Recently, CO–OP held a preview event celebrating the debut of their new restaurant concept, featuring an all–new head chef and restaurant staff and a focus on locally–sourced ingredients, Mid–Atlantic cuisine, and regional cooking practices complimented with a modern twist. This new direction is indicative of CO–OP’s intention to bring more upscale options to the University City area, particularly to those visiting or attending local universities such as Penn.
Who is Lydia Tár?
On a crisp fall afternoon at the Kelly Writers House, Penn students and faculty joined in the Locust Walk–facing seminar room to meet renowned music journalist Alan Light. Light sat across from Anthony DeCurtis, a fellow music writer and 20–year–long faculty member of Penn’s English Department. The two men spoke for an hour, sipping on watered–down iced coffee. Light discussed his fascination with Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” the digitization of music consumption, and his experiences in the ever–changing world of music journalism.
Four minutes left in the episode—just 240 seconds for a five–year–long tale of deceit, love, and fame to unfold. In the time it took to microwave Kraft mac–and–cheese, the main character would have to decide whether or not to reveal an earth–shattering secret that would change the course of her and her family's life. Season 4 Episode 9 of Hannah Montana had left me in shambles.
Three women walk into a bar: one perjured herself on the stand, one had a pop–star career funded by her husband stealing money from his class–action victims, and one ran a telemarketing fraud scheme that targeted vulnerable groups. What do they have in common? They're all stars of Bravo’s Real Housewives franchise.
Soft Swinger: “He’s a Mormon, but he hits different.”
If you're a fan of Matisse, Philadelphia is the place to be this fall.
Tove Lo has been a silent force in pop music for years. The Swedish star expresses her candor through her self–reflective lyrics and her escapism through club–ready beats, giving pop music the breath of fresh air it sorely needs.
For years, I’ve had a weekly tradition of tuning in at 11:30 PM to watch Saturday Night Live as it airs. To me, SNL is the pinnacle of comedy, with hilarious sketches and insanely well–produced pre–tape videos, all created from scratch within a week.
With yet another attempt to be “woke,” America is actually harming one of our most vulnerable demographics of society—adolescent girls.
Amid the sea of seats in a dimly lit, empty theater screening the horror–thriller Barbarian, there was just me and my bucket of buttered popcorn. Watching horror films alone is already sort of a death sentence for someone who gets scared easily. However, what frightened and excited me the most as Barbarian began was not the emptiness of the theater or the prospect of watching a horror movie alone in the dark. My excitement was because I knew absolutely nothing about the insanity I was hurling myself into.
Solutions by The State News