It's a tough time these days for mothers in Hollywood, who are either dead, as a result of which they figure in the story only as an absence, or so scarily alive that their children would be better off without them: cue Precious and Mo'Nique's inevitable walk to the Oscar podium. The by-product of that first phenomenon has been various films about dads belatedly connecting with their kids. Clive Owen bonded with his two young sons in The Boys Are Back, and now it's Robert De Niro's turn to go in search of filial sustenance in Everybody's Fine. Does he succeed? Well, let's just put it this way: The film's title is for the most part not ironic.

It's a tough time these days for mothers in Hollywood, who are either dead, as a result of which they figure in the story only as an absence, or so scarily alive that their children would be better off without them: cue Precious and Mo'Nique's inevitable walk to the Oscar podium. The by-product of that first phenomenon has been various films about dads belatedly connecting with their kids. Clive Owen bonded with his two young sons in The Boys Are Back, and now it's Robert De Niro's turn to go in search of filial sustenance in Everybody's Fine. Does he succeed? Well, let's just put it this way: The film's title is for the most part not ironic.

Over the past decade, much of the energy in new writing has come from black Britons. Homegrown talents such as Roy Williams, debbie tucker green and Kwame Kwei-Armah have sent us updates about the state of hybrid, streetsmart culture, and alerted us to the experiences of minorities. In doing so, they have reinvented punchy dialogue, with stage chat that zips along with dizzy humour and linguistic freshness. Hot on their heels comes Bola Agbaje, whose latest play has just opened on the main stage at the Royal Court.

If you stick with the Coen Brothers' new film until the end of the final credit crawl, you will notice the legend, in small print, "No Jews were harmed in the making of this motion picture." I wouldn't be so sure: they certainly put their hero through the trials of Job. With a title like that, it ought to be a comedy, but the Coens customarily keep a protective, ironic distance from their fictional creations, and so you never really quite know where you stand with them. Still, A Serious Man may be their most personal, most revealing movie yet.

Family life can be bad for your health. Especially if you are an overweight teenager. Take Anna for example. She's 15, a bit on the plump side, and having a rough time. At school, where - horror of horrors - her Mum is a teacher, she's attracted the attention of some bullies. But worse than unwelcome attention is neglect: her Dad is too busy writing a book about saving the planet from climate change to pay much attention to his daughter, or his wife. But help is on its way. 

theartsdesk.com presents The Seckerson Tapes, a series of live and uncut audio interviews from acclaimed broadcaster Edward Seckerson. We start with Jamie Bernstein - Leonard Bernstein's eldest daughter - who has been in London launching the year-long Bernstein Project at the South Bank. Seckerson, a long-standing Bernstein devotee and disciple, sat down for a frank and open discussion about exactly who her "dad" was.