Kathryn Reklis

On Masters of Sex, the wired-up naked bodies are not nearly as titillating as the melodramas that unfold when the characters are fully clothed.

Every story is a story about time. Boyhood's power is not the perimeters of its story as much as the immersion into it.

The focused uncertainty of The Leftovers is a parable for our own more diffuse reality. This could make it a deeply theological show.

I'm grateful to Amy Frkyholm for her thoughtful response to my media column on clickbait. I have a religious autobiography similar to Amy's: raised in a highly emotional evangelical/charismatic church, which I left in young adulthood for high liturgy. My response to liturgical forms of worship was very much the same feeling of relief and freedom within structure that Amy describes so well. I appreciate, and in many ways share, her experience with and insight into the pitfalls of coerced emotionality—in worship, church groups, or online. I'm not sure, however, that the parallel between clickbait and worship really works.

Several times a day, my Facebook feed invites me to cry, laugh, or feel amazed. I click almost every time.

Poems, novels, and short stories have all influenced Christian ways of telling our sacred stories. What about a miniseries?

Cohle and Hart are magnetic and unforgettable. But True Detective's existential heft never exceeds the palaver of a 101 class.

I began watching Her suspicious that it would glorify bodiless romance or present a mere male fantasy. But the film surprised me.

In the holiday movie blitz, one live wire unites two very different films: Christian Bale, who plays the lead in both Out of the Furnace and American Hustle.

Orphan Black is so suspenseful and addictive, you may not realize that it's examining deep questions about the meaning of selfhood.

While Gravity doesn't pass the Bechdel test, it does feature a female lead in a story that isn't about romance or sex. But is it her story or Everyman's?

Orange Is the New Black is so refreshing, honest and funny that "prison drama" is hardly the right category.

Fruitvale Station is a powerful, meditative exploration of one ordinary life that met an extraordinary and tragic end.

Joss Whedon's adaptation of Much Ado About Nothing is an enchanting modern take on the 16th-century romance and a nearly perfect movie.

Arrested Development is back, and family dysfunction is on display. But family may also be the characters' chance to break free from paralyzing narcissism.

How can we imagine a world that counters the one that the Don Drapers helped create?

The act of sacrifice central to Beautiful Creatures works only because the characters' story is not entirely their own.

Django Unchained is an irreverent, profound and problematic exploration of America's original sin—and the power of a revenge fantasy.

It's the golden era of TV, and many shows explore moral and psychological issues with great nuance. Why not take religion as seriously?

Twilight and Big Love explore something most romantic dramas have forgotten: the pleasures of moral struggle for the sake of spiritual growth.