Tom Cruise-a-Palooza

Tom Cruise is often said to be the last of a dwindling breed: the true movie star. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider the performances that have earned him that designation. The hosts are joined by Tyler Foggatt, a senior editor at The New Yorker and a die-hard “Cruise-head,” who breaks down the chapters of the actor’s career. The early “heartthrob years,” marked by films like “Risky Business” and “The Color of Money,” established Cruise’s appeal onscreen and catapulted him into projects with respected directors such as Stanley Kubrick and Paul Thomas Anderson. Cruise’s affiliation with the Church of Scientology might have torpedoed the career of a different celebrity, but he remains irresistible to audiences, who have shown up at the box office throughout the past decade of his career—which has largely been defined by action flicks and jaw-dropping stuntwork. In “Digger,” the polarizing new film directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu, Cruise’s performance as a potbellied, aging oil baron is a rare departure from his usual fare. Might it signal another reinvention? “Cruise will probably default back to the formula that he knows works,” Foggatt says. “But maybe we'll get a couple ‘Digger’s between now and then.”  Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “Digger” (2026) “Risky Business” (1983) “The Color of Money” (1986) “Cocktail” (1988) “Jerry Maguire” (1996)  “Born on the Fourth of July” (1989) “Magnolia” (1999)  “Valkyrie” (2008) The “Mission: Impossible” movies (1999-) “War of the Worlds” (2005) New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker that explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz discuss the perennial appeal of survival stories. They trace the theme of man versus nature from early novels like Daniel Defoe’s “Robinson Crusoe” to new releases like “Heart of the Beast,” in which Brad Pitt plays a grizzled veteran traversing the Alaskan wilderness with a canine companion. Survivalist themes are common in reality franchises like “Survivor,” now in its fifty-first season, and the History Channel show “Alone.” But a new offering from Channel 4, “Apocalypse,” takes the format in a darker direction: contestants profess their fears about societal collapse as they compete for food and shelter on an abandoned military base. As anxiety rises about the climate crisis and the potential for an A.I. takeover, the question of survival seems more pressing than ever—and yet these tales of rugged individualism can seem out of step with the times. “They don’t really describe our condition,” Cunningham says. “Unless you are in fact marooned somewhere, there are other people. It’s harder to dramatize surviving together than it is surviving alone.”  Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “Heart of the Beast” (2026)  “A Marriage at Sea: A True Story of Love, Obsession, and Shipwreck,” by Sophie Elmhirst “All is Lost” (2013) “Hatchet,” by Gary Paulsen “My Side of the Mountain,” by Jean Craighead George “Island of the Blue Dolphins,” by Scott O'Dell  “Cast Away” (2000) “Rescue Dawn” (2006)  “The Ecstatic Truth,” by Daniel Zalewski (The New Yorker) “The Rise of the Novel: Studies in Defoe, Richardson and Fielding,” by Ian Watt “The Revenant” (2015)  “Little House in the Big Woods,” by Laura Ingalls Wilder “Alone” (2015-) “Survivor” (2000-) “Apocalypse” (2026)  “Tuesday, and After” (The New Yorker) New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker that explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

“The Journey,” a five-part audio investigation by Ava Kofman, unravels the mystery of how Guojun Xuan and Silvia Zhang, a wealthy Los Angeles couple, obtained dozens of children through nearly as many surrogates—and exposes a scandal that threatens to undermine the entire surrogacy industry. In Episode 1, “Gifts,” a woman in Texas agrees to carry a child for the couple. She thinks she’s helping a family in need. Then she becomes a whistle-blower. In the Dark is an acclaimed investigative-journalism podcast that launched in 2016. Its third season won the 2025 Pulitzer Prize for audio. To keep listening to “The Journey,” search for In the Dark wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

As the school year resumes, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz consider the work—and pleasure—of teaching and learning, reflect on their own experiences in the classroom, and counsel listeners on scholastic concerns. One teacher calls in asking for texts she could assign to combat apathy among her high-school students; another is looking for works that depict the highs and lows of her chosen career; and a graduate student seeks works of poetry to convince skeptics of the form’s artistic value. The hosts discuss the ways in which teaching is itself a kind of art form. “Teaching is so much a kind of performance,” Cunningham says. “You have to be the one out on the ledge . . . to establish a new frontier of, ‘You are allowed to be excited about this.’ ” Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “Less Than Zero,” by Bret Easton Ellis Homer’s Odyssey “Black Boy,” by Richard Wright “The Great Gatsby,” by F. Scott Fitzgerald “A Complicated Kindness,” by Miriam Toews “Black Swan” (2010) “The Holdovers” (2023) “Democracy and Education,” by John Dewey “The Class” (2008)  “The Simpsons” (1989-) “Are You My Mother?,” by Merve Emre (The New Yorker) “Dead Poets Society” (1989) “Theme for English B,” by Langston Hughes “Llull,” by Ariana Reines “Odes,” by Sharon Olds “The Red Poppy,” by Louise Glück New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker that explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Upon news of Dolly Parton’s death last week, flags across the country were lowered to half-mast. A petition circulated to rename the Nashville airport in her honor, and social media read like a greatest-hits reel of the charisma and musical acumen that made her universally beloved. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham and Naomi Fry are joined by three fellow New Yorker writers to celebrate Parton’s life and work, and the legacy she leaves behind. Kathryn Schultz, who penned Parton’s Postscript, discusses her undersung, “Oprah-like” business savvy and deep commitment to philanthropic causes; Amanda Petrusich distills Parton’s vast discography down to three essential tracks; and Lauren Michele Jackson considers how the star’s carefully crafted persona played up aspects of her femininity while transcending divisions of race and class. “The ready word one reaches for is ‘saint,’ right?” Schultz says. “This is someone who came from nothing and might reasonably have felt the instinct to hoard everything she had. And she had the absolute opposite instinct, which was to give as much away as she could.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “9 to 5” (1980)  Dolly Parton’s “Jolene”  “Dolly Parton for the People,” by Kathryn Schultz (The New Yorker) “Dolly: My Life and Other Unfinished Business,” by Dolly Parton  “Country Music” (2019) Dolly Parton’s “Better Get to Livin’ ” “What Dolly Parton Built,” by Amanda Petrusich (The New Yorker) Beyoncé’s “JOLENE” Dolly Parton’s “The Bridge”  Dolly Parton’s “Little Bird” “The United States of Dolly Parton,” by Lauren Michele Jackson (The New Yorker) Barbara Walters’s 1978 interview with Dolly Parton “Taking In the Scene at Daisy Chain Fields, the Zoomer Lilith Fair,” by Lauren Michele Jackson (The New Yorker) “Back: Essays on the Soul and Spine of America,” by Lauren Michele Jackson Dolly Parton’s “Backwoods Barbie”  New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker that explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In May, two low-budget movies from début filmmakers opened in theatres and quickly made box-office history. “Obsession” and “Backrooms,” which together have grossed nearly a billion dollars, defied conventional industry wisdom and inaugurated the burgeoning genre of “Gen Z horror.” On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz are joined by New Yorker culture editor and horror enthusiast Alex Barasch to discuss this new canon, beginning with the most recent entry, Alex Ullom’s “It Ends.” Like Curry Barker and Kane Parsons—the directors of “Obsession” and “Backrooms,” respectively—Ullom is a twentysomething who honed his craft on YouTube. This content pipeline has already become a model for Hollywood executives who are scrambling to cash in on the phenomenon. But these films’ sensitivity to the predicaments of young viewers, who grew up online and came of age during the pandemic, may be the real key to their commercial success. “It’s people responding to another member of their generation speaking directly to them,” Barasch says. “I hope that that is what is sought and funded and rewarded in this new era.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “Why Horror Still Haunts Us” (The New Yorker) “Obsession” (2026) “Backrooms” (2026) “It Ends” (2026) “The Twenty-Six-Year-Old Behind ‘Obsession,’ a Terrifying Tale of a Crush Gone Awry,” by Alex Barasch (The New Yorker) “No Exit,” by Jean-Paul Sartre “Weapons” (2025) “Portal” (2007) “Iron Lung” (2026) New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker that explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

During her tenure as The New Yorker’s television critic, Emily Nussbaum famously railed against ranking the year’s best shows; she once wrote a piece entitled “I Hate Top Ten Lists.” But naming her favorite series of all time is an easier proposition, and the honor goes to a little-known Canadian production from the early two-thousands that dramatized the colorful characters and commercial struggles of a fictional Shakespearean theatre festival. In the final episode of this summer’s Critics at Large interview series, Alex Schwartz talks with Nussbaum about her love of “Slings & Arrows,” which pioneered a complex balance of comedy and drama that would eventually become a hallmark of prestige television. Today, Hollywood showrunners including David Simon, the creator of “The Wire,” sing its praises—and yet it remains largely overlooked by audiences. Nussbaum, who’s lately been writing as the magazine’s theatre critic, is on a mission to change that.  “The history of TV is the confusion between whether something is good and whether it’s popular and commercial,” Nussbaum says. “ ‘Slings & Arrows’ is an example of a show that is the best show—regardless of how many people watch it.”  Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “Cue the Sun,” by Emily Nussbaum“Slings and Arrows” (2003-2006)“Hamlet,” by William Shakespeare“Macbeth,” by William Shakespeare“King Lear,” by William Shakespeare“30 Rock” (2006-13)“Orange Is the New Black” (2013-19)“Call My Agent!” (2015-19)“The Studio” (2025—)“Next to Normal” (2025)“Succession” (2018-2023) New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

In the second in a series of Critics at Large interview episodes devoted to the topic of cult classics, Naomi Fry talks with the New Yorker staff writer Hannah Goldfield about how that designation applies in the culinary realm. The two discuss specialty ingredients that appear on menus for only the briefest of moments, out-of-print cookbooks that go for hundreds of dollars on eBay, and once niche restaurants that have blown up in the TikTok era. Then, Goldfield makes her case for the particular staying power of Judy Rodgers’s “Zuni Café Cookbook,” which has influenced countless chefs and food writers—including Samin Nosrat, whose  “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat” immediately soared to the top of best-seller lists upon its release, in 2017. “The Zuni Café Cookbook,” though less accessible, has attracted such illustrious devotees for a reason. “It’s text-heavy. It’s huge in size. It’s a bit intimidating at first,” Goldfield says. “But if you are interested in cooking—or if you have a curiosity about it, even—it’s an incredible resource.”  Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “Heartburn,” by Nora Ephron “The Joy of Cooking,” by Irma S. Rombauer “Cooking with Love,” by Ruth Sirkis “The Surprising Endurance of Martha Stewart’s ‘Entertaining,’ ” by Hannah Goldfield (The New Yorker) “Entertaining,” by Martha Stewart “The Zuni Café Cookbook,” by Judy Rodgers “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat,” by Samin Nosrat New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

When it dropped in January of 1997, Camp Lo’s “Uptown Saturday Night” thrilled some listeners and confounded others. On the first in a series of Critics at Large interview episodes devoted to resurfacing beloved cult classics, Vinson Cunningham talks with Hanif Abdurraqib, a contributing writer for The New Yorker and a diehard fan of the Camp Lo project. Abdurraqib describes “Uptown Saturday Night,” which leaned on Blaxploitation tropes to paint a strikingly cinematic picture of New York City, as “essentially a heist film” unto itself. Together, they discuss the album’s lukewarm reception at the time, and why its creative approach to storytelling seemed to land on deaf ears. One explanation is that the hip-hop marketplace of the era was increasingly demanding that musicians pick a lane: underground or mainstream, socially conscious or unapologetically opulent. “ ‘Uptown Saturday Night’ got lost in that because it didn’t really have a foothold in either world,” Abdurraqib says. “At a time when a lot of these guys with underground roots were bending to the hyper-commercialization of hip-hop, Camp Lo never changed who they were.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics: Camp Lo’s “Uptown Saturday Night” Fugees’ “The Score” “Uptown Saturday Night” (1974) “Midnight Express” (1978) “The Black Connection” (1974)Dynasty’s “Adventures in the Land of Music” Elliott Wilson’s review of “Uptown Saturday Night” (The Source) Slum Village’s “Fan-Tas-Tic (Vol. 1)” Puff Daddy’s “No Way Out” Pete Rock and Camp Lo’s “80 Blocks from Tiffany’s” Camp Lo’s “Black Hollywood” Jay-Z’s “American Gangster” Wyclef Jean’s “The Carnival” New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts. Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker which explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Colson Whitehead’s ascent in the literary world has seemed, like much of what he does, impressively effortless. Though he’s best known for “The Underground Railroad” and “The Nickel Boys”—both of which were awarded Pulitzer Prizes—his œuvre also includes a mystery set amid rival schools of elevator inspectors, a zombie novel, and an autobiographical coming-of-age story. On this episode of Critics at Large, Vinson Cunningham, Naomi Fry, and Alexandra Schwartz survey Whitehead’s wide-ranging body of work. The hosts are joined by their fellow staff writer Julian Lucas, who recently profiled Whitehead for The New Yorker. Together, they discuss three central works: “The Underground Railroad,” which catapulted its author from literary darling to mainstream celebrity; “Sag Harbor,” which fictionalizes, barely, Whitehead’s summers in the Hamptons and the family dramas that played out there; and “Harlem Shuffle,” the first installment of the crime trilogy that concluded this month, with the publication of “Cool Machine.” On the page, Whitehead is a true Gen X ironist, transmitting heavy histories and themes with levity. Despite the occasional darkness of his subject matter, he’s also one of our funniest novelists. “He has this way of, almost like a standup comedian, drawing you into this playful patter,” Lucas says. “Then your defenses go down, and that’s when he hits you with something that grabs you emotionally, or that pulls you into a story.” Read, watch, and listen with the critics: “The Elusive Promise of the First Person” (The New Yorker) “The Nickel Boys,” by Colson Whitehead “Colson Whitehead’s Big Score,” by Julian Lucas (The New Yorker) “The Colossus of New York,” by Colson Whitehead “The Underground Railroad,” by Colson Whitehead “Sag Harbor,” by Colson Whitehead “Harlem Shuffle,” by Colson Whitehead “Cool Machine,” by Colson Whitehead “Why Bother?” by Jonathan Franzen (Harper’s) “The Odyssey” (2026) “Who Owns the Odyssey?” (The New Yorker) “Don’t Use A.I. to Do This,” by Colson Whitehead (The New York Times) “John Henry Days,” by Colson Whitehead New episodes drop every Thursday. Follow Critics at Large wherever you get your podcasts.Critics at Large is a weekly discussion from The New Yorker which explores the latest trends in books, television, film, and more. Join us every Thursday as we make unexpected connections between classic texts and pop culture. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices