British talent is thin on the ground at this year’s Cannes festival, but one first-time feature film director, from a small village in Scotland, has been making waves.
Millions have downloaded utilities to bring back some traditional lements of Windows
China is struggling to get its estimated 100 million religious believers to banish superstitious beliefs about things like sickness and death, the country's top religious affairs official told a state-run newspaper.
The two sides meet in a relegation battle at Loftus Road this weekend
A cultural history that reflects on the traditions that surround our final journey – to the coffin
Some people say they like winter because you get to stay inside and watch box sets. I'm sorry to report, those people are wrong
Long before Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe set foot on a tennis court, Art “Tappy” Larsen created the mould for fiery and successful American left-handers.
Four centuries after the infamous witch trials of 1612, artist Joe Hesketh is a modern day Halloween witch from Pendle. Matilda Battersby meets her
The renaissance in British film-making is down to daring directors
Dubious casting does not guarantee laughter in Shakespeare’s farce of mistaken identities
The week in culture
Lady Gaga only recently "actually enjoyed sex".
Evolutionist's charity accuses protégé of stealing hundreds of thousands of pounds
Joanne O'Connor gets pedalling along The Lodes Way, the National Trust's new cross-country route between Cambridge and Ely
Right. So. Last night's television. No, not the election coverage – you'll find that in news. The other stuff: the soft stuff, you know. I've spent the past three weeks writing reviews of programmes that hardly anyone watched (clashing as they did with the election debates and then, last week, one debate and two football semi-finals). And now I'm reviewing stuff that virtually no one watched. Still, you were one of the select few that did, congratulations: far better to cast your ballot, go to bed at a sensible hour, and remain blissfully unaware of one's fate until the morning. Or, depending on how hung things turn out to be, in a few mornings' time. Either way, with matters of state on one's mind, what one needs is some light relief, isn't it? Or, even better, an escape plan just in case someone you really can't bear winds up at No 10. In which case, I'd suggest Hong Kong. It looked great in last night's episode of Greatest Cities of the World.
The play hasn't started and you're already saying, with Marlowe's Mephistopheles, "Why this is hell, nor am I out of it." The smoke is billowing, the bells are tolling, the bagpipes are wailing and, down below in the pit, the heads of the groundlings are peeking through a black tarpaulin like the lost souls on Judgment Day.