Joshua Marquis

Almost as delusional as the hysterical anti-Communist films of the 50s or the pro-Soviet propaganda that preceded and followed the former. The only "compassion" was a single comment by the arrogant traitor who apparently benefited from the hysteria of anti-Communism of the 1950s. It was inevitable that the Soviets would develop nuclear weapons, but to have American traitors aiding them, while basking in the political and physical luxury of a privileged life in America is jolting. If the topic were not so well-researched, the director's hazy descriptions would be laughable. A swipe at the Venona transcripts, released in the early 2000s showed how deeply Soviet agents had penetrated. It was clearly wrong to execute the Rosenbergs, but it is equally wrong that this traitor escaped all responsibility for his betrayal.

JAN 29 Defending Juries America is almost alone in the world in believing in the intersection of democracy and law and that by selecting 12 disinterested (which doesn't mean bored or stupid) people to settle cases we seek the wisdom we think dwells in the hearts and minds of ordinary people. William Landay is a lawyer-turned-writer who worked in the Boston DA's office and whose new book,"Defending Jacob," is about an assistant prosecutor who investigates his own 14-year-old son's suspected role in a killing. April Henry, in her review in today's Oregonian, writes that the "courtroom scenes are well drawn, and it's clear that Landay is writing what he knows." She quotes this passage from the book, in which the protagonist considers the jury that has been selected to determine the fate of the 14-year-old: It was almost comical how ignorant they were of the law, of how trials worked, even of this case which had been splashed all over the newspapers and evening news. They were chosen for their perfect ignorance of these things. This is how the system works. In the end, the lawyers and judges happily step aside and hand the entire process over to a dozen complete amateurs. It would be funny if it weren't so perverse. How futile the whole process is. Surely Jacob must have realized as he looked as those fourteen blank faces. The towering lie of the criminal justice system -- that we can reliably determine the truth, that we can know 'beyond a reasonable doubt' who is guilty and who is not -- is built on this whopper of an admission: After a thousand years or so of refining the process, judges and lawyers are no more able to say what is true than a dozen knuckleheads selected at random off the street. I've presented cases ranging from shoplifting to capital murder to well over 200 juries -- (btw, if this case was in Oregon it would be almost impossible for a 14-year-old, even one charged with murder, to receive a jury trial; it would instead be handled in juvenile court before a judge) -- and I've lost several in which I remain convinced the defendant was guilty. But my faith in the jury system remains strong. The arrogance and contempt expressed about jurors -- indeed the entire system -- in this passage is profoundly disturbing. Is this really what Landay "knows"?

After many brutal reviews (I only read the summaries) my expectations could only go up. And they did. Only two complaints; the sound design; radically swerves between music and dialogue The other downside, the overly self-conscious insertion of an important Black character, who seems two dimensional, makes little sense, although the very accurate setting of Newark in 1967 and the riots that left almost 800 injured. The casting of the late James Gandolfino’s son, Michael, as the younger version of Tony Soprano, Vera Famiglia as Tony’s demented mother and Ray Liotta, as twin mobsters, was brilliant. No, it’s not the Sopranos, but as we say in Italian, “Se non e very, e Ben travoto,” translated as “if it’s not true, it’s still a good story.” I’m not giving up much by translating the title….The Many Saints of Newark,”…..or “I Molti Santi di Newark.”

Truly awful. Pretentious. Characters that are unrealistic and cookie cutter, simultaneously. An incomprehensible series of back stories that make no sense. Is Kidman's character really Russian, or as implied through flashbacks, just acting that way because of a hinted tragedy. The ending is like a bad YA novel, where everyone gets exactly what they want, and Kidman magically is reunited with her dead daughter, after presumably swapping the deed to her 20-million ranch for a guest's Lamborghini. Rarely do I feel like I wasted 8 episodes on such insipid TV.