Wake Up Dead Man (2025)

 I'm a sucker for Rian Johnson's Knives Out series. I have enjoyed every single installment. The latest one is no exception. This one takes place in the sleepy town of Chimney Rock, a fictional town in upstate New York.

The film begins at a seminary. Father Jud Duplencity (Josh O'Conner) punches another priest and as a former boxer, knocks him out. An incident that happened during his boxing career has left Father Jud feeling guilty. This guilt has led him to God and is determined to bring Christ's love to his flock.

After this incident, he is assigned to Our Lady of Perpetual Fortitude where he will assist Monsignor Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin). He represents everything a priest should not be. Despite this, Monsignor Wicks has a devoted following. He is unhappy that Father Jud has been assigned to his church. He tries to make Father Jud as uncomfortable possible in any way he can including during his weekly confessions.

Martha Delacroix (Glenn Close) is the church's - and therefore Monsignor's - most devoted follower. She is involved in everything the church does and does everything for the church. Monsignor Wicks' grandfather was like father to Martha and she has been devoted ever since she was a child.

The other devoted members of the church are groundskeeper Samson (Thomas Hayden Church), author Lee Ross (Andrew Scott), cellist Simone Vivane (Cailee Spaeny), doctor Nat Sharp (Jeremy Renner), attorney Vera Draven (Kerry Washington) and her son Cy (Daryl McCormack). It should be noted that Cy is not actually her son. Vera's father previously worked as Monsignor Wick's attorney and showed up one day with a 10-year-old boy and told Vera she was now in charge of raising him. 

This cast of characters are all going to be suspects in the murder. The mystery begins when the victim is murdered in the storage closet found next to the pulpit with no seemingly possible way for the murder to have occurred. The town's sheriff (Mila Kunis) brings in detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to help solve the murder.

As usual this is a fun mystery and the resolution is as satisfying as it was in Knives Out.

The film is witty. Josh O'Conner is fantastic as the guilt ridden priest looking to turn his life around and make a positive impact on his community. Daniel Craig continues to impress with his deep southern dialect. My only complaint is that so many great actors are underused. I was happy to see Jeffrey Wright make an appearance, but was disappointed to see he only appears in the beginning and the end. Kerry Washington and Cailee Spaeny are also underused. While they are official suspects and an audience member, you never really suspect them. Still I had fun watching this one and as long as they continue to be this engaging, I will continue to enjoy them.

Project Hail Mary (2026)

 

It's easy to get bogged down by all the negativity going on in the world. It's easy to see all the ugly in the world and ignore all the beauty. Project Hail Mary is based on the novel by Andy Weir and it's full of unexpectedly tender moments. Ryan Gosling stars as a reluctant astronaut who wakes up all alone in space, but meets someone unexpected who reminds him of all there is to fight for.

Gosling is Ryland Grace and we first meet him as he wakes up from an induced coma in a spaceship far from Earth. He's disoriented and has no memory of what he's doing there. The ship provides him with technical support, but no information beyond that. He also discovers that he's the sole survivor of the crew of three. He looks through belongings and ship logs, but nothing immediately jogs his memory.

We piece his story little by little through a series of flashbacks. Grace is a science teacher who lets his students know that the sun is slowly dying. Space organisms are eating it and it only has about 30 years before it's gone and the Earth is sent into a catastrophic extinction. One day he is approached by scientist Eva Stratt (Sandra Huller). He assists Stratt with the investigation into the "astrophage" and eventually ends up on the mission. 

Grace is utterly alone. He has no idea why he's there and he has no one to ask. Eventually though he forms a friendship with an unlikely creature while in space. He comes across another spaceship and while he tries to escape from it, it is relentless in its pursuit and eventually makes contact with him. The other creature is the sole survivor of his mission. The creature is an extra terrestrial who looks like a pile of rocks and communicates initially with models. As the ETs spaceship is much more advanced, it manages to connect the two ships so that the two can meet face to face. Grace is able to connect his computer to a microphone and he starts making a dictionary of the ET's sounds so they can communicate via speech. Eventually he names the creature Rocky.

One of the things I was excited to find out was that this entire film was made using practical effects so Rocky is brought to life by an actual puppet instead of CGI. To me, this just makes the little creature all the more special. Grace and Rocky form a bond as they work together to save their respective planets. Grace knows that he will die on this mission. Rocky's planet is also in danger of being destroyed by the astrophage. The two are soon inseparable. They learn about each other and their lives. Rocky is able to make models of just about anything so they can get a visual of anything they are working on. Together they set out to save their planets and Rocky is determined to also help Grace get back home. After all, Rocky is no longer alone and is able to fix Grace's problem. 

This is one of those films with a fake out ending. When you think the film is going to end, it doesn't and it is at this moment that film starts too feel a little too long. This project is different from directors Christopher Miller and Phil Lord's previous works, but their previous works speak for themselves. They make good films and work well together. Ryan Gosling captures the loneliness of a man in space and the excitement of making a connection. He is the heart and soul of the film. Without his strong performance the film would suffer. He is smart, but charming. Once he teams up with Rocky, the film truly begins to soar. I'm sure having a tactile puppet to play off of rather than a green screen ball helped. Gosling is fantastic in the role. The unexpected team up is a wonderful way to remember that beauty can be found all around. It's also a good reminder that sometimes what we think we want, is not what we end up needing. 

Hamnet (2025)

 

This is an absolute beautiful film about love, loss, family and grief. 

If you decide to watch this film, you must also be prepared to cry. 

What is most beautiful about this film is Jessie Buckley's performance led by Chloe Zhao's direction in which she encouraged her actors to follow all their instincts and led to one of the most poignant displays of grief ever put on film.

Zhao also trusts the silences of life and allowed quiet moments to speak as powerfully as the louder moments.

The film is based on the novel by Maggie O'Farrell which is a fictional story that focuses more on Shakespeare's wife Agnes "Anne" Hathaway rather than the famous bard himself.

Not much is known about Hathaway other than the fact she was married to Shakespeare which leaves a lot of room to play with her and flesh out her story.

We do also know that Shakespeare and Hathaway's son Hamnet died at the age of 11 and this is more than likely the catalyst that led Shakespeare to write Hamlet.

Hamnet is Agnes's story.

She was a real person who we know little about.

Zhao and Buckley brough Agnes to life and allowed us to know her beyond being Shakespeare's wife.

We are introduced to Agnes in the forest where she is known by the local villagers as a witch. William Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) meets her and is immediately besotted with her and their romance begins after some initial hesitation on her part. 

They marry and eventually Shakespeare moves to London to pursue his career while Agnes stays in Stratford-upon-Avon to raise their three children: Susannah, and twins Hamnet and Judith.

Jessie Buckley instantly captures the audience with her performance. She's wild, free, restrained, understated, and powerful in her portrayal.

The supporting cast are all incredible as well, but I have to give a big shoutout to Jacobi Jupe who played Hamnet and truly captured the painful death.

The shots are absolutely beautiful filled with saturated colors when surrounded by Agnes's beloved forest, but dull and muted to reflect how being indoors makes her feel.

Even knowing the concept the story, it still hits you like a gut punch and you feel everything so viscerally.

This is a slow film in the sense that it allows moments to build to the point where you find yourself completely immersed in the story without trying too hard to draw you in.

This is a beautiful look at grief, motherhood and life as a whole.

4 stars.

Hoppers (2026)

 

This was so wacky. Hoppers follows Mabel (Piper Curda) an environmental activist who is determined to save the glade she grew up visiting. The mayor is planning on building a highway through it and as long as no animals live there, he has permission to build. Mabel discovers that one of her professors has created a machine that allows them to inhabit a robot animal and communicate with the wildlife.

It's cute and completely unexpected in execution. The film takes several unexpected turns. This isn't necessarily a bad thing as it makes for a fun ride, but it's missing some of Pixar's signature cohesion and charm. That being said there are beautiful moments that tug at the heartstrings and the animals are cute. The animals look more beady eyed and natural when the humans are humans and more expressive and cartoonish when humans are inhabiting the robot bodies and able to communicate with them. Even when they do not have their cartoonish expressions, the animators are able to communicate effectively even in the animals' more natural states.

 This definitely caters more to the children in the audience. As someone who is not a child, I still had a good time, though some moments were a little too outrageous for me. I don't think this film will go down in Pixar history as one of the greats, but is it a viewing experience I would do again? Definitely.

4 stars 

Heathers (1988)

 

3.5 Stars

I had never seen this film before although I had heard of it.

Winona Ryder and Christian Slater star as two high school students who set out to fix the class and bullying issues at their school by murdering their fellow classmates, but framing them as suicides.

I can completely understand why it is a cult classic. Dark and funny it adds a different perspective to the usual teen focused films.  

When the Movie Wins

The Books vs Movies question gets spicy with The Idea of You by Robinne Lee and the 2024 Amazon adaptation starring Anne Hathaway and Nicholas Galitzine. Both versions sell a fantasy built on celebrity access, paparazzi pressure, and a secret romance with a world-famous boy band frontman. The core plot is similar, but the emotional experience is not. When a story asks the audience to root for an age gap romance, tone and framing matter as much as the ages on paper. This book vs movie comparison shows how small adaptation choices can turn a provocative romantic drama into something easier to watch, or harder to defend.

A big part of the conversation is age gap relationship discourse and the need for nuance. Not every age difference equals manipulation, but context changes everything: life stage, maturity, power dynamics, and social fallout. The book makes Hayes 20 while Solène is 39, and it repeatedly underlines the gap inside the relationship, not just outside it. That constant self-policing can read like the narrative itself is uncomfortable, which keeps the listener and reader stuck in the same discomfort. The film ages Hayes up to 24 and brings up the gap once between them, then shifts the tension to tabloids, sexism, and ageism, which creates a clearer target and a cleaner through-line.

The adaptation also rewires the setup by changing Izzy. In the novel, Izzy is 13 and a hardcore August Moon fangirl, which makes the mother-dating-the-idol twist feel more personal and more explosive at home. In the movie, Izzy is 17, not obsessed with the band, and the meet-cute moves to Coachella with a wrong-trailer bathroom moment that raises logic questions about security but speeds the romance along. The film makes travel and access feel effortless, while the book uses scheduling puzzles, art fairs, and tour stops to justify meetings. Those structural shifts matter because they determine whether the romance feels like a reckless spree or a relationship squeezed into real life.

Beyond plot, there are craft and ethics critiques that shape the overall review. The film draws attention to how an older woman gets harsher judgment than an older man would, but it also struggles with credibility when showing insecurity through a glamorous star. The conversation also calls out whitewashing of characters of color from Robinne Lee’s original text and the confusion of styling August Moon like K-pop while claiming One Direction DNA. Add in a few book passages where sexual details feel gratuitous, plus the recurring “Harry Styles fanfiction” discourse, and the verdict lands: the movie is not perfect, but it is more grounded, more watchable, and ultimately a better experience than the novel for this host.

 

Little Women 1949: Book or Bust

The 1949 adaptation of Little Women sits at a curious crossroads: gorgeous studio craftsmanship, glossy star power, and a sincere love for Alcott, yet a narrowed focus that trims away the bracing edge of sisterhood. Watching it today reveals both why classic-era filmmaking still enchants and why narrative choices matter more than ever. This film leans hard into Jo, framing her ambition and spark as the emotional spine, while easing back on the tug-of-war between the March sisters that gives the novel its pulse. That trade keeps the story smooth and warm but sanded down, and the loss becomes clear when we search for those cherished frictions and find them softened, or gone.

Casting drives much of the reaction. June Allyson plays Jo with brisk, youthful energy, even if the camera and styling work overtime to sell a teenager. Elizabeth Taylor, luminous at 17, reads far older on-screen, which complicates Amy’s arc as the vain, funny, and evolving youngest sister. Peter Lawford’s Laurie feels like the biggest mismatch: charming yet visibly past schoolboy years, which blunts the “golden boy next door” dynamic and undercuts the ache of unrequited love. The film also flips ages so Beth becomes the youngest to accommodate Margaret O’Brien, a choice that reshapes the family’s visual balance and subtly shifts expectations of maturity and vulnerability within the quartet.

Structure is the deeper issue. Alcott’s novel unfolds across roughly a decade, and that scale matters. We feel time carving the sisters into adults; we earn heartbreaks and choices because they stretch over seasons. The 1949 film compresses that sweep, gliding through early joys before bolting to the end. Pivotal beats slide off-screen, delivered as tidy updates rather than lived chapters. The result is a graceful pageant missing the oxygen of time, a montage where we needed the slow rhythm of change. Without that cadence, Jo and Laurie’s bond feels thinner, and the later pairings less inevitable.

Then there’s what’s absent: the sharp edges of sisterhood. One of the novel’s most human moments, Amy burning Jo’s manuscript and the icy fallout that follows, barely registers here. That episode matters not for spectacle, but because it reveals Jo’s temper, Amy’s insecurity, and the family’s moral spine as they repair what seems unforgivable. By skimming the lows, the film also cheapens the highs; forgiveness and loyalty glow brighter only after conflict. The adaptation instead favors harmony and sentiment, which suits the era’s taste and MGM sheen, but smooths away the grit that makes the Marches feel like real siblings rather than idealized sketches.

Even with these qualms, the film has a glow modern viewers may crave. Practical sets, hand-built interiors, and saturated Technicolor fabrics turn domestic life into visual comfort food. You can feel carpenters in every banister and costumers in every ribbon. That tangible craft, paired with Allyson’s buoyant Jo and Janet Leigh’s poised Meg, offers a version of Little Women that celebrates home as a refuge and ambition as grace rather than defiance. The Professor Bhaer casting, Rossano Brazzi radiating unmistakably Italian cadence, breaks the illusion of “German professor,” yet his warmth aligns with the movie’s gentler register, further rounding Jo’s arc toward partnership and purpose.

So where does it land in the family of adaptations? As cinema history, it’s easy to recommend: a polished, heartfelt time capsule that honors the book’s values if not its full complexity. As a literary translation, it trails the 1994 and 2019 versions, which preserve more of the book’s rhythm, friction, and bittersweet maturation. Readers who treasure the novel’s thorny love between Jo and Laurie, the earned bond among the sisters, and the patient ache of years will likely still choose the page. But for anyone curious about how Hollywood once bottled warmth, discipline, and star wattage into a domestic epic, the 1949 Little Women remains a charming, instructive watch. It is both a delight and a lesson in how choices shape the soul of a story.

 

GOAT (2026)

 

"GOAT" is a kids film and it is a sports film. It follows the formula of both and that's what makes it work.

The story follows Will (Caleb McLaughlin) who is the given the opportunity of a lifetime when Flo (Jenifer Lewis) the owner of his favorite Roarball team hires him as the team's sixth player.

 Jett Fillmore (Gabrielle Union) is the team's star player. She is unhappy with Will's addition as he is an amateur and his height is a big disadvantage. While she had been asking for a new teammate, she had been hoping for a "big". 

 The teams are all playing for the Claw trophy. Through it all we get some wild animation, some tender moments between Will, Jett and their other teammates and a triumphant ending that will have everyone cheering.

3.5 out of 5 stars. 

Valentine's Day (2010)

 

 

Valentine's Day is one of those films I never saw because despite its star studded cast, I had feeling it wouldn't be good.

This is a film that focuses on several different story lines that are also somehow connected to each other. 

Ashton Kutcher opens the film by proposing to his girlfriend played by Jessica Alba.

He's best friends with Jennifer Garner who is dating Patrick Dempsey's married doctor. Though she doesn't know he's married.

Jamie Foxx and Jessica Biel have some communication as she is part of a PR firm representing a quarterback played by Eric Dane and Foxx's character is trying to get the scoop so he can be taken more seriously as a sports journalist, but he and Biel end up having a romantic connection.

Anne Hathaway is scared to tell her new boyfriend played by Topher Grace that she has to work as a phone sex worker to pay off loans.

That's not even half the story lines and the majority of them don't even matter.

Despite all this, Valentine's Day is completely harmless.

Queen Latifah is funny. Eric Dane has a truly touching moment with an unexpected character and that's all there is to it.

It's meant to be a sappy film that fills you with all the sappy feelings and it does exactly that.  

Frankenstein vs. Frankenstein/Bride of Frankenstein

Mary Shelley wrote a story about responsibility, creation, and moral courage, yet most people picture electrodes, thunder, and a lumbering giant who fears fire. That gap is the heart of our conversation: how Frankenstein the novel and Universal’s 1930s Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein travel the same road with wildly different maps. The book keeps the method of animation vague to prevent imitation and center ethics, while the films revel in lightning and laboratory theater. That shift moves the question from Should we create life? to Can we control what we’ve made? The result is a cultural memory anchored in imagery, not inquiry, and it changes how we judge Victor and his creation.

The creature himself shows the starkest divide. On the page, he is articulate, fast, observant, and aching for kinship; his long monologues reveal a mind shaped by rejection and a will sharpened by pain. On screen, especially in the first film, he grunts, shuffles, and becomes a public menace rather than a calculating accuser. The blind man sequence survives in both versions, and it remains devastating: a brief proof that empathy could have saved everyone. But the films recast much of the violence as accident or impulse, draining the novel’s bitter logic of revenge. We discuss how that softens Victor’s guilt and recasts the creature as a tragic hazard instead of a moral mirror.

Adaptation lineage matters. Universal adapted not just Shelley but a popular stage play, adding theatrical beats such as lab bravura, mob set pieces, and a clearer villain arc. Bride of Frankenstein tries to nod toward the book’s request for a mate yet invents Dr. Pretorius, a puckish provocateur whose bottled homunculi and scheming tilt the story toward camp and away from responsibility. We dig into censorship’s odd footprint: blasphemy policed on the page more than on set, cleavage cut while sacrilege slips by in statues, and a shelved idea where the creature misreads the crucifix. These choices refract 1930s anxieties more than Shelley’s questions, adding texture but blurring intent.

Even small divergences carry weight. The films confine the story to a foggy village world instead of the novel’s Europe-wide chase, shrinking the moral horizon alongside the geography. The creature’s famous slow walk likely owes more to Karloff’s brutal costume (dozens of extra pounds and punishing takes) than to character design, yet that gait became canon. Name swaps (Victor to Henry, Henry to Victor) and continuity gaps between films show how franchise logic can trump literary coherence. We also challenge the pop myth of Frankenstein and his Bride as a romantic pair; she appears for minutes, recoils, and the supposed couple never exists. It’s a merchandising dream built on a narrative mirage.

Our closing takeaway: the films are superb horror cinema and poor adaptations. They gift us icons, moods, and a seasonal ritual; the novel gives us a scalpel for modern debates about creation, secrecy, and care. Read Shelley for the philosophy and the plea for responsibility. Watch James Whale's films for the gothic splendor and the image bank that shaped a century of monsters. Then hold both truths at once: culture needed the lightning, but our ethics still need the voice in the snow, asking to be seen and answered.

Notting Hill (1999)

 I had never seen this 1999 romantic comedy and I must say I quite enjoyed it. Hugh Grant bookstore owner William Thacker while Julia Roberts plays famous actress Anna Scott. They follow the classic romcom formula where they fall in love, fall out of love and reunite for a happy ending. The supporting cast are all whacky and fun and of course the romance is ridiculous, but you root for them to stay together no matter how insane the relationship is. Rhys Ifans as William's flatmate is an absolute riot.

I Heard You Paint Houses: Frank "The Irishman" Sheeran and Closing the Case on Jimmy Hoffa vs. The Irishman

https://www.buzzsprout.com/2310476/episodes/18627269

Frank Sheeran’s story sits at the uneasy border of confession and legend, and that tension fuels both Charles Brandt’s I Heard You Paint Houses and Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman. The book builds its case through five years of interviews, letting Sheeran narrate his path from World War II infantryman to union fixer and mob hitman. The film compresses that breadth into a three-hour sweep anchored by De Niro, Pacino, and Pesci, guided by a cool, mournful voiceover. Listeners who want the granular mechanics of mob work, union leverage, and political influence will find more in the pages; viewers seeking cinematic craft will get the distilled arc. The core question that lingers is less who pulled the trigger and more how guilt hardens into myth and shapes the stories we keep telling.

One of the book’s strengths is the raw detail of Sheeran’s early years. Brandt shows us a soldier who logged 411 days of combat in Italy, a staggering run that normalized violence and dulled the brakes most people feel. That wartime conditioning explains the later emotional flatness around “painting houses,” the mob code for murder. Back home, Sheeran slides into hustles, then into Russell Bufalino’s orbit, where favors become bonds and bonds become orders. The book keeps names, nicknames, and city politics intact, which makes it rich for researchers but taxing for casual readers. Still, those specifics illuminate how labor, the mob, and mid-century American power overlapped in practical, transactional ways that movies often skip.

Scorsese’s film chooses clarity and momentum over the full dossier. We meet Sheeran in the 1950s as a meat-truck driver skimming product, then follow his rise through small favors to felony trust. The Irishman trims childhood and war detail to focus on friendship and betrayal, especially the bond with Jimmy Hoffa. That choice tightens the emotional spine: if the book is about what Sheeran did, the film is about what it cost. The de-aging effects let one cast play decades, a gamble some viewers found uncanny. Others saw it as a tool that keeps performances continuous, emphasizing how time erodes swagger into regret. Either way, the technique supports a story concerned with memory’s edits and the price of loyalty.

Peggy, Sheeran’s daughter, becomes the film’s moral barometer. On the page, her estrangement sits in the background, filtered through Sheeran’s perspective and later family claims that complicate his version. On screen, Anna Paquin’s near-silent stare does the heavy lifting, telling us she knows, even if the world still calls Hoffa’s fate “alleged.” That choice reframes the crime as a family rupture more than a mob mystery. When Hoffa disappears, the quiet in Peggy’s gaze cuts louder than gunfire. It’s a reminder that violence travels: the blood doesn’t just stain a house; it seeps under doors, into rooms where children decide who their parents are.

Confession threads both works. Brandt positions himself as the listener whose tape recorder becomes a secular confessional, echoing his claim that humans are wired to unburden themselves. The film relocates that release to a nursing home priest, framing Sheeran’s late-life honesty as a search for absolution no institution can guarantee. The difference matters. Journalism seeks verification and context; the sacrament seeks contrition. Neither can restore what’s gone. That spiritual ambiguity suits a story where the “truth” is plausible, coherent, contested, and forever shadowed by missing bodies and fading witnesses. What we’re left with is a narrative that feels true because it explains the guilt we see etched into an old man’s face.

So which version serves the curious viewer best? If you want sweep, atmosphere, and a clean throughline, The Irishman earns its acclaim with impeccable craft and a somber tone that lingers. If you want depth, names, and the connective tissue of unions, politics, and organized crime, the book delivers a dense, sometimes overwhelming map. Both raise the same durable themes: loyalty’s double edge, how institutions protect and punish, and how memory edits our worst moments into something we can live with. The title debate captures the split. I Heard You Paint Houses seduces with code, a whispered threat; The Irishman simplifies the pitch for a broad audience. Either way, the story’s power lies in the chill that follows a simple question: who cleans the walls after the paint dries?

Top 10 Least Favorite Films of 2025

2025 asked a hard question of moviegoers: are we grading films on ambition, noise, or genuine storytelling craft? My countdown of last year’s least favorite theatrical releases isn’t about dunking for clicks; it’s about why certain movies failed to stick. Across franchise spin-offs, prestige darlings, and nostalgia remakes, a pattern emerges: films can shine in parts yet stumble on coherence, character logic, or cultural awareness. Hype and awards buzz don’t always mean resonance. When the first act of a lauded epic feels scattered or characters act against their beliefs, the audience senses the wobble. Engagement starts with trust, and trust begins with motivation that tracks.

The list’s middle makes a case for “fine” being the enemy of memorable. A slick first-date thriller entertains but evaporates on the walk to the parking lot. A new take on The Running Man hints at sharp political commentary yet never lands a decisive punch, raising more curiosity about the source era than the movie’s own voice. Snow White becomes a case study in culture war crossfire: miscasting debates, “woke” panic, and interview outrage overshadow a film whose main flaw is simpler... it’s just dull. Meanwhile, Wolf Man illustrates a classic horror sin: characters choosing “stupid” over “wrong,” puncturing tension faster than any silver bullet.

Action fatigue shows up in Ballerina, a spin-off that delivers choreography without consequence. The hit-counter keeps rising while stakes stay flat, proving how spectacle without story rarely lingers. The Phoenician Scheme, for all its crafted framing, reminds us that a signature aesthetic can’t substitute for emotional ignition; style needs a pulse. Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 caters to fans yet feels trapped by service over substance, with character choices that strain credibility and leave newcomers out in the cold. Fan love deserves more than Easter eggs. It deserves a story that breathes.

Sequels that pivot genres can thrive, but Megan 2.0 swerves without a compelling roadmap. Shifting away from horror could have unlocked a bold reinvention; instead, it fogs the franchise’s identity and saps tension. The biggest spark of debate arrives with The Roses, where toxic dynamics are played as comedy and reconciliation is treated as catharsis. Stories shape norms, even when exaggerated, and laughing at harm muddies the line between critique and glamorization. Remakes need translation for modern ethics; if the core is broken, a glossy update won’t fix it. Audiences aren’t asking for safe—they’re asking for honest, grounded, and worthy of their time.

The Idea of You (2024)

 

I have a soft spot for romantic movies. I don't mind the cheese fest, if it's sweet and corny I'm here for it.

The most important part of a romance film is, of course, the romance. "The Idea of You" has a believable romance in Anne Hathaway and Nicholas Galitzine.

"The Idea of You" is based on a book by the same name and brings a romance we don't usually see on screen. Solene (Hathaway) is a forty year old woman. She has a 16 soon to be 17 year old daughter Izzy (Ella Rubin). She's divorced and content in her singleness.

This all changes when Solene has to join her daughter at Coachella after Izzy's father cancels as the chaperone at the last minute. Here she meets pop superstar Hayes Campbell (Galitzine) and the two begin a whirlwind despite their age gap. 

 The plot is predictable. However, Hathaway and Galitzine play off each other well. Their chemistry is believable and it's fun to see a romance where an older woman is with a younger man.

The romance between Hayes and Solene is sweet from the start. The film does get hot and heavy (but not overly so) as it goes on and you can't help, but root for these two. The supporting cast balances the two leads well, though Solene's ex Dan (Reid Scott) is a little too smarmy.

I also have to give credit to the filmmakers. As I said, the film isn't overtly graphic with the scenes. You don't see any nudity, but the passion between the characters still jump off the scene. The use of movement, choreography and lighting bring the scenes to life without being gross.

This isn't my favorite romance film by any means. Still, it is really cool to have an older woman be viewed as desirable by a younger man and have her pleasure featured.

Of course, Anne Hathaway is incredibly beautiful and attractive and it's easy to still see her as someone who is desirable. Still, age gaps are controversial and this provides the main conflict of the film.

As a mother more than a forty year old, Solene is expected to behave like one. She should be doting completely on her daughter and satisfied doing that as opposed to engaging in a romantic relationship with a hot popstar. It's fun to see a woman go after what she wants.

So many romances try to manufacture the romance with hot and heavy scenes. Others lean into the love no matter how ridiculous the situations may be. "The Idea of You" does the latter. The belief that women should stop embracing their sexuality once they become mothers is a message that is everywhere. The part that is unbelievable though is that Anne Hathaway is anything other than a hot woman who could get any man she wants.

"The Idea of You" is streaming on Amazon. I am two years to late in watching it, but it was on a list of recommended Valentine's Day movies and I wanted to check it out.

It's predictable and there other romance films out there. That being said, if you want nothing but love, romance and sex between an older woman and a younger man then this is the perfect film to fill that niche. 

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple

 

I want to preface this by saying, I have not seen any of the other films in the franchise. I've seen a snippet of one of the original films, but that's it.

I don't know who of any of the characters are. That being said, I thought the film was entertaining. 

The Bone Temple explores something that I feel a lot of films and series have been exploring lately: humanity's evil. Humans suck and are inherently evil and Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O'Connell) is our example of this in The Bone Temple. The zombies are no longer the focus.

The film opens as Spike is made to become a Jimmy and join the cult. Jimmy Crystal believes he is the son of Satan and he and his Jimmies go around finding people to sacrifice. The infected do make an appearance, but they take a clear back seat to the cult and the evils they commit. This is just a reminder to me that I do not want to be alive if something like this ever happens.

 We also have the story of Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) who befriends Samson (Chi Parry-Lewis), the alpha of the infected.  Fiennes is absolutely fantastic as he embraces the wild and wacky fully. Kelson begins discovering that there is a way to calm the virus and the psychosis that comes with it. Samson isn't cured by any means, but he can manage the symptoms and be almost as he was before.

As an introduction to the franchise, The Bone Temple was actually quite fun as it leaned into the absurdity of the situations. Yes, we are shown the evils of humanity, but there are reminders that life will always be absurd and that can bring joy in the most unexpected times. The beginning was gory and I don't handle gore well, but beyond that I was pleasantly surprised at the laughs and celebrations that came in this film.