John Saward

Working at a neighborhood bar, I found fraternal love in the arms of drunken strangers.

The new show voiced by Sir David Attenborough documents the trajectories of animal life in an almost Shakespearean way.

Bourdain saw food and feasts like a moment in the backseat of a car, with something like eagerness and awe simultaneously.

Al Pacino's career is more than a collection of films, it's a memoirish self-commentary.

Good riddance to the Greatest Show on Earth®.

More than a prophet or a mastermind, Trump's strategist is just an angry, bitter dreamer.

Hannity is an inoffensive looking Trojan horse filled with rancid opinions, making his way to the stage next to presidential candidates.

If you've ever wondered where reality television falls on the authentic to producer-orchestrated scale, I'll offer Evan to you as an answer, a shriveled, timid man whose craft is resurrecting broken cocks.

He represented the idea that you can be the most delusional version of yourself, and no one can stop you, as long as you win.

On Green's seventieth birthday, John Saward takes a look back at the man who could turn an audience to rubble with the sound of his voice.

If you come to Manhattan on St. Patrick's Day, there are scenes to behold of local-nightly-news B-roll pageantry, but really the day is a calamity, a demolition derby of male ego and the limits of human biology.

Despite consistently poor debate performances and lousy numbers, Ben Carson is still working to be president. Why? And who shows up to hear him speak?