Originating in Curitiba in 2013 and spreading to Portugal, Spain, Mexico and Brazil, “Basket das Excluídas” consists of an LGBTQIA+ group gathering to play basketball on a public court in the city. They vogue and resist with their bodies around the city, challenging norms and celebrating diversity while engaging in a game that expresses identity and a form of resistance.
All in all, “Event Horizon” is a cinematic misfire, begging to be perfected in the future. While it possesses an array of admirable visuals, the film leaves much to be desired. If only we could see Anderson’s preferred cut, which featured more character development and tortuous imagery. In the meantime, I have a catchphrase for this film: In space no one can hear you snore.
The Roses is a wickedly sharp marital warfare comedy that transforms domestic dysfunction into high art. Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch deliver powerhouse performances as a couple whose fairy-tale romance implodes when his architectural career collapses just as her culinary empire takes off. What makes Jay Roach's remake so devastatingly effective is its refusal to pick sides—both spouses are equally sympathetic and monstrous, wielding Tony McNamara's razor-sharp dialogue like weapons forged from shared intimacies. It's a film that dares you to laugh at relationship wreckage while forcing you to confront the uncomfortable truth that the line between passionate love and mutual destruction is terrifyingly thin.
Like Stars on Earth is a representative movie that talks about dyslexia to young audiences and why it is important in today's generation.
If you enjoy Japanese cinema, absurdly violent action films, gangster flicks, or joyfully strange cinema, 'Why Don’t You Play in Hell?' is a must-see.
An indie production of a romantic drama with a country-western feel meant to explore lost love.
Him is visually stunning—all concrete cathedrals and bone-rattling impact shots that look like a nightmare highlight reel. Marlon Wayans is magnetic as this legendary quarterback who's basically selling salvation with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. But the story keeps running in circles: more tests, more cryptic pep talks, more ritualistic drills. The sports-as-religion metaphor beats you over the head when subtlety would've been more effective. The middle drags, and that finale chooses spectacle over substance. It's undeniably stylish, but left me cold. Also worth noting: despite the Monkeypaw connection, this isn't actually a Jordan Peele film—he didn't write or direct.
