While Duke still boasts a "male-skewed" lineup of action movies and extreme sports there are encouraging early signs that it might not be nearly as bad as it first seemed.

The band at the centre of the Paris terror attacks played an Auckland show last night, as news of the Brussels attacks spread.

There's L'orchestre d'hommes-orchestres of Quebec. They are not a Tom Waits tribute band. But they do play his songs live on stage.

In 2000, Uri Caine's bold transformation of Bach's Goldberg Variations into a vibrant encyclopedia of styles blew welcome raspberries into complacent ears.

This American film starts off as as swords and sandals detective story, with Jesus the missing person, before defaulting to a hollow gospel drama.

REVIEW: The rapper isn't blessed with a booming voice. His songs aren't full of trap bass and Auto-Tuned vocals. All he has is his words. And that's all he needs.

Elena Langer is an accomplished teller of tales, a gift that has drawn the Russian-born British composer more than once to the operatic stage.

COMMENT: Netflix's true diabolical genius lies in the decision to begin playing the following episode before the one you're currently watching has finished.

Sixteen figures in flowing cream reclaim the King of Thebes from Freud in this melodic contemporary opera.

It's refreshing to see the 360 ALLSTARS crew bringing traditional circus skills into a wildly energetic celebration of street culture.

Nixon in China, co-produced with Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra and New Zealand Opera, cements why John Adams has created an operatic survivor.

The curtains lift, revealing a dancer seated solemnly to one side. All is quiet barring the sound of audience members settling into their seats.

This excellent one-man show is not chatty or casual. Tight, dramatic spotlights focus sharply on the orator in the dark.

COMMENT: The Big Ward's greatest achievement is simply getting a serious public health issue into a time slot usually occupied by reality shows.

Around 30 Aucklanders jumped on and off the White Night Art Bus from Q Theatre on Saturday night and went west.

In the stark, filmic landscape that lies beyond the Oscars, there is nothing but badly CGI-ed tumbleweed.

Brass Poppies may be a chamber opera, but its 70 minutes achieved the vision and the resonances that one might not find in a piece twice its length.

Life of a Domino's Pizza worker turns out to be riveting viewing, writes Calum Henderson.

I hate to say this because I do love the setting but the series is now a triumph of commerce over art. May the force be with you, writes Karl Puschmann.

The Black Quartet combined with Lawrence Arabia, Tiny Ruins, and Rob Ruha for a charming evening of musical diversity.

Many may think "don't mess with a classic" but games very quickly moved on from two people fighting on a 2D platform.

Among the razzle-dazzle of the big shows, the Auckland Arts Festival always throws up some hidden gems like Waves.

In this fantastical Kiwi detective story, Carl Bland's musings on truth and loss are framed as "three men in search of a playwright," writes Janet.

Ralph Fiennes couldn't make a bigger splash if he tried, rampaging through director Luca Guadagnino's relationship drama.

The things you learn at the pictures. Had I not seen Sacha Baron Cohen's new film, I might have gone through life sublimely unaware of the word "bukkake", let alone the concept. That may have been no bad thing, of course.

Of course it's great. We're talking about Kendrick Lamar here, an artist who's not just the the Best Rapper Alive.

This is savage. One minute you're watching someone being ripped to death by a sabre-toothed tiger.

Sufjan Stevens described his mesmerising and moving Civic Theatre show last night better than anyone else could: "A celebration of termination."

The makers of this show have given themselves a challenge: they've attempted to adapt what is primarily adult literature for 4-8-year-olds.