Gerhard Gribkowsky umgab sich mit Konzernchefs und Ministern. Weil er Schmiergeld annahm, kam er ins Gefängnis. Jetzt ist er bei einem Unfall in Österreich ums Leben gekommen.

The latest in our series of writers explaining their go-to comfort films is a tribute to Darren Aronofsky’s dark and unusually satisfying ballet nightmare

In early 2011, sometime after the film was released on home video, I sat down with mum to watch what she had heard was a “new ballet movie” by Darren Aronofsky. I was 12 years old, spending school nights training to be a professional dancer. Without any warmup, knowing very little of the ballet and pointe work that earned Natalie Portman her best actress Oscar, we pressed play on Black Swan.

Well before Brendan Fraser’s time on the couch and the many houseguests of Mother!, Aronofsky increased the wattage with a companion piece to follow his heavy-hitter, The Wrestler. Watching Nina Sayers’ (Portman) intense physical trials and her stilted sexual awakening, with my mum beside me, I was understandably disturbed. At this point in my adolescence, I thought Jumanji was a scary movie. Like the film’s injured bird, I was being introduced to a darkness I didn’t understand. And somehow I couldn’t get enough. Why did it feel so good?

Demand for Scotland’s most famous export has slumped, with industry facing job cuts and closures

Obscured by the Scottish countryside on the outskirts of Kirkcaldy, Cluny bond is, in effect, a small town built to store whisky. By the time the latest set of warehouses are finished on the former opencast coal mine, Diageo’s 220-hectare (544-acre) maturation campus will be able to store almost 3m casks of Scotch. The drinks multinational needs the space.

After a 15-year boom turbocharged by the Covid-19 pandemic, demand for Scotch whisky has slumped around the world. Distilleries have paused production across Scotland to avoid adding to the glut of supply, known as a “whisky loch” – the equivalent of a “wine lake”.

Sadler’s Wells, London
A trio of dances taking influence from Stravinsky, tap and William Blake’s poetry combine with powerful performances exuding showmanship

Damn, there was some amazing dance going on in mid-20th century New York. You had George Balanchine forging a new American ballet, all slick speed and striking angles, and in Harlem there was the Cotton Club and the Savoy, swinging dancefloors and entertainers like the legendary Nicholas Brothers, of whom Balanchine was a fan. There’s a taste of this world in English National Ballet’s latest triple bill, with a distinctly American flavour and a focus on propulsive rhythm.

Balanchine’s Symphony in Three Movements was made in 1972 as a memorial to Stravinsky, although the eponymous music is from 1945. Balanchine and Stravinsky were an absolute dream team, architects of multiple masterpieces. Here the clarity of line and stripped-back nature of the design crossed with the depth and crunchy complexity of Stravinsky’s score is a perfect balance. There’s palpable power from the pit, with the English National Ballet Philharmonic relishing the music under the baton of Maria Seletskaja.