Chile, 1983. Gladys is a brave young woman who lives in La Victoria, a marginal neighborhood of Santiago with her mother and daughter during the Pinochet dictatorship. One day they receive a young missionary, Samuel Thompson, who, with his camera, records how the population lives in such an adverse scenario.
Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion is a fan-favorite, as are some of the more science fiction angled movies like 28 Days Later or World War Z. I recently watched the 1995 Wolfgang Peterson-directed movie, Outbreak for the first time, which is currently available on Netflix.
A Christmas tale that everyone is wishing for, and that everyone will remember.
I think that the happiness and survival of "Wynonna Earp"’s LGBTQ+ characters is incredibly refreshing in contrast to the prevalence of queer suffering and death in other television.
Intergenerational friendships and community can be so powerful, and this was a great example.
Years before Mexican director, Alfonso Cuaron, was winning Academy Awards for movies like Gravity (2013) and Roma(2018), he directed a small, intimate film about two best friends who decide to embark on an improvised road trip to spend time with an older, attractive woman who miraculously agrees to go with them. Y tu Mamá También is a deep journey into the raw sexuality and friendship of the young protagonists, as well as a subtle social and political commentary on Mexico at the time.
In the film adaptation, director Jon M. Chu turns each musical number into a massive show stopper, with grand set pieces and a wealth of diverse dancers. Yet, in this attempt to show reverence for the people of the Washington Heights barrio, Chu, or maybe more specifically those in charge of casting, left out a crucial part of the community, Afro-Latinos.
