Breaking Ten 

The film is bogged down with one-off rain monster threats that always come to a quick and undramatic end

After his family fled to England after the Vietnam War, Kit returns home to Saigon.

A dynamic journey of self-acceptance and identity.

"The Haunting of Hill House" isn't your typical horror story. Based on a novel by Shirley Jackson, Netflix's masterpiece and limited horror series takes you on a emotional rollercoaster ride, by turning our perception of mental illness on its head. It's an unforgettable story about a loveable family, who grapples with tragedy and love after living at the foreboding Hill House.

The clever but socially-awkward Tetê joins a new school, and she'll do anything to fit in.

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.