If you’ve ever wondered what it might feel like to spend the night somewhere between the golden glow of Old Hollywood and the laid-back, sun-drenched cool of modern California, allow me to introduce you to The Hoxton hotel in Downtown LA — a hotel that feels less like a place to crash and more like a glamorous friend’s impeccably designed pied-à-terre.
I went into this film expecting a biographical thriller — something that would frame Ann Lee as an experimental woman ahead of her time who embraced ideas we might now recognize as modern feminism and was persecuted by society for those beliefs. Instead, the film is about a pious, devout woman … who was still persecuted by society for expressing her spirituality in a different way.
Today, one year after the turmoil in Ferguson, Missouri, race riots sparked by alleged profiling, discrimination and police militarization are still making headlines in America. But in 1919, Elaine, Arkansas, was the center of the country’s deadliest race riot.
Birdhouses hang everywhere in the dying Delta town of Elaine, Arkansas — a distraction from the blight, neglect and century-old history of a county where hundreds of black men were lynched in 1919.
On Lee Street, a diner has “Open” and “For Sale” signs in a window, but no one is there.
When the name Lizzie Borden comes up, what’s the first thing that pops into your mind?
If you’re like many, it evokes images of a 19th-century woman accused of gruesomely murdering her family. But here’s the twist: Lizzie was never convicted. In fact, she was acquitted, leaving a legacy shrouded in mystery and intrigue.
That’s why I was thrilled to invite Ashley Dees, a research and instruction librarian at the University of Mississippi, to speak to my class this Halloween about the infamous Borden case. Dees uses true crime research as a vehicle for enhancing critical thinking skills, which is especially relevant in today’s world where the reliability of information can often come into question.
University of Mississippi (UM) students are being challenged to delve deeper into complex issues about the university and state thanks to a special Honors College class designed to explore important topics 60 years after James Meredith’s enrollment as UM’s first Black student.
“I would describe this class as an open dialogue about the past, present, and future of both the university and the state as a whole,” said McKenzie Cox, a journalism and political science double-major from Concord, North Carolina, who is planning to pursue a career in broadcast news reporting and policy analysis.
Where were you when the Challenger exploded? For many in Generation X, Jan. 28, 1986, was the moment childhood innocence shattered — much like JFK’s assassination defined a generation before them.
I recently interviewed Mississippians with powerful connections to the tragedy.
When Sharon McConnell-Dickerson began to lose her vision in 1995, she faced a difficult truth: her life would never be the same. But in the darkness, she discovered something unexpected — art.
That discovery eventually led her from New England to the Mississippi Delta, where she would spend more than a decade capturing the soul of the blues, not through sound, but through sculpture.
It’s hard to imagine childhood without the Muppets, and since “Sesame Street” debuted in 1969, generations have grown up with Jim Henson’s unforgettable creations. Now, Jim Henson’s Fantastic World — a traveling Smithsonian exhibit — brings his incredible legacy to the Mississippi Museum of Art.
Hailing from the Mississippi Delta, Henson transformed his early love for puppetry into iconic shows like “The Muppet Show” and “Sesame Street,” captivating audiences worldwide. This exhibit offers a rare glimpse into his creative process with 100 original pieces, including puppets, sketches, storyboards, and videos.
Rick Griffin, a Jackson landscape architect, grew up seeing bottle trees on trips between Ocean Springs and Vicksburg. Fascinated by their charm, he built a 10-foot bottle tree in his own yard, calling it a symbol of fun and individuality. “It’s about being a nonconformist,” he says.
Once dismissed as kitschy folk art, bottle trees are now booming in popularity across the South, especially in neighborhoods like Fondren, where urban horticulture expert Felder Rushing has documented a sharp rise in their numbers. Rushing believes this trend reflects a cultural shift toward more relaxed, expressive outdoor spaces. “For a long time, lawns had to be perfect. Now, people feel freer to add personality and history to their yards,” he explains.
With the 150th anniversary of “The Origin of Species” and the 200th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s birth falling just a year apart, New York Times science writer Olivia Judson recently predicted a surge of “Darwinmania.”
And for good reason — few scientists have had as lasting and polarizing an impact as Darwin, whose theory of natural selection reshaped our understanding of life on Earth.
In “Idiocracy,” an offbeat sci-fi satire from “Beavis and Butt-Head” creator Mike Judge, two ordinary people (played by Maya Rudolph and Luke Wilson) are chosen for a government time travel experiment. But things go hilariously wrong, and they wake up in the year 2505 — where intelligence is practically extinct.
In this dystopian future, society has been overrun by people who made their way to the gene pool without much thought — think Jerry Springer guests en masse. Smart individuals, who often delayed or debated having children, have been far outnumbered. As a result, the “average” time travelers are now the smartest humans alive.
Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette” dazzles visually but falls flat emotionally, revealing the limitations of a film that leans too heavily on aesthetics without delivering the depth of its subject. The cinematography is breathtaking, the costumes extravagant, and the French landscapes mesmerizing — but the film feels more like a designer photo shoot than a compelling historical drama.
Starring Kirsten Dunst as the ill-fated young queen, the film attempts to modernize Marie’s teenage angst by layering a rebellious rock soundtrack over 18th-century decadence. The concept — bold and trendy on paper — ultimately feels gimmicky. Rather than enhancing the storytelling, it distances the audience and feels more like a marketing strategy aimed at Gen Z than an artistic choice.
Intrigued by the notion that someone had created a horror film based on the Southern ghost story of the Bell Witch — a tale I’ve heard whispers of growing up near Tennessee — I recently rented “An American Haunting” hoping to uncover more about this mysterious legend. To my surprise, the film is one of the few horror movies I’ve seen that explores supernatural torment and possession through the lens of psychological trauma.
Set in early 1800s Tennessee, the movie tells the haunting story of young Betsy Bell, a once-lively, flirtatious teenager who abruptly transforms into a withdrawn, exhausted version of herself. She confesses to her teacher that she’s unable to sleep, haunted by a terrifying presence that visits her at night. Her sudden decline sets off a series of terrifying events.
Anyone who’s ever taken a long road trip knows the moment: You pull into a random gas station or rest stop — tired, hungry, desperate for a bathroom — and what greets you is a scene straight out of your worst nightmares. Filthy floors, broken faucets, the unmistakable stench of neglect. But what if that unsettling experience was just the beginning of something far more sinister?
That’s the premise behind the aptly titled horror flick “Rest Stop,” a gritty B-grade film that turns the familiar discomfort of roadside travel into a full-blown horror show. When two rebellious teens run away to Los Angeles, they make the fatal mistake of pulling into a rest stop that’s become the stalking ground of a deranged killer — a death trap decades in the making.
I hadn’t seen “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” since the 1980s, when I first watched it at my cousin, Pam’s, house. She was a big Halloween fan, but I was still too young (and too scared) to handle the film’s chaotic terror. I remember leaving her house early that night, practically running home to my mama.
Fast-forward to last night when I caught the film on FUSE. It didn’t seem quite as frightening this time around — probably because I’ve seen far more horror movies since — but for anyone unfamiliar with the genre, “Chainsaw” still has the potential to scare the leggings off you.
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