Paw Patrol Jets to the Rescue in Barkingburg
In this high-flying mission, the pups gear up with jets to stop the Duke of Flappington and save Barkingburg.

Moroccan filmmaker Narjiss Nejjar makes her feature debut with the drama Cry No More. Former prostitute Mina (Raouia) is released from prison after a 25-year sentence. Bus driver Fahd (Khalid Benchegra) returns her to the isolated Berber village of prostitutes. Because the only men allowed in are customers, Fahd pretends to be Mina's son. Fahd falls for Mina's angry daughter, Hala (Siham Assif), who wants to stop the village curse. Hala has a daughter of her own, Zinba Rafiqua Belhaj, who's about to undergo a traditional loss-of-virginity ritual. As she forms a plan to stop the sex work-cycle, Mina doesn't let Hala know her real identity, although the village elders in the mountain cliffs remember her. Cry No More was shown during the Director's Fortnight at the 2003 Cannes Film Festival.
In this high-flying mission, the pups gear up with jets to stop the Duke of Flappington and save Barkingburg.
If Miguel Alexandre were trying to make a revenge story seem dull without using all the effective formulas that work great in this catchy genre, he could not have accomplished his purpose much better than he unintentionally has in Black Island.
The new Scooby Doo movie that will give viewers the frightening adventure of their lives.
Eloquent and informative, Hajera Sheikh’s documentary Kathak: Dancing With Taboos tells a story of love for one’s culture and perseverance through adversity.
Knives Out doesn’t just defy the whodunit narrative, it uses the weaknesses to its advantage. It’s well aware of the genre’s faults and tropes
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.