In this week’s NOW, I chart my annual descent into the grim lineup of the Human Rights Watch festival, from which I have just barely recovered.  Seriously, packing that much torture, mutilation and general despair into a single week seems like its own crime against humanity.

Lighter fare may be found in my coverage of this weekend’s Toronto Irish Film Festival, or in the requisite Oscar thumbsucker.

Or just delve into the miserable stuff, I guess. It’s not February until you feel like chewing your wrists open, after all.