Suddenly, I get it, that like the Biblical saying about the rich man's chance of getting into heaven (about as easy as threading a camel through the eye of a needle), the "stuff" that we consider the mark of a good life is a burden that impedes us from fully experiencing the creative one.
— Ovid, "Ars Amatoria" When I was working on my first film, "Gates of Heaven," about two California pet cemeteries, I would often think about love.
This was a fall from grace for Ms. Wolf, whose previous book, "Divided Heaven," about a family broken apart by the division of the Germanys, won a national prize.
And the earlier scenes of chauffeur-driven Jags transporting men to momentous meetings at a country estate recalled the BBC's recent drama Five Minutes of Heaven, about a reconciliation between two rivals from the Irish Troubles.
"Long Fall From Heaven," about two serial killers who terrorize Galveston in 1943 and 1987, was conceived by Mr. Burton, but he was too ill to write the novel and asked a friend, Mr. Wier, to do so instead.
After graduating from Hunter, Miranda went to Wesleyan, where he reprised one of his high-school productions, a musical called "Seven Minutes in Heaven," about a seventh grader's first kiss.
But the humble history of the opening riff of Led Zeppelin's most famous song Stairway to Heaven may about to be rewritten.
Eventually, I found myself heading to Heaven at about 10pm.
"And it's not about heaven, but about a benevolent bureaucracy.
Meticulously made, sensually satisfying and thrumming with possibilities, "Beau Regard" is the sort of work that's heaven to write about, to think about, to watch.
