Documented human suffering is never easy to view or read about and is understandably triggering for many people, but it can be educational, and education is a key to change. An overwhelming amount queer people worldwide (and in my own country) have it far worse than I could imagine, and documentaries such as Welcome to Chechnya bring issues to light that certain groups of people would never see.
With mismatched eyes, a willingness to experiment with hair color and style, and a rail thin frame, Bowie always drew attention. But he shunned gendered attractiveness, creating his own space somewhere in between. This hallucinatory and often nonlinear 2022 documentary is a perfect salute to David Bowie’s life and career. Rather than interviewing those that knew Bowie, the standard convention for biographical portraits, director Brett Morgen mostly lets the artist’s images, performances, videos, and words speak to capture the essence of the artist. Bowie was more than just a pop star. He painted, sculpted, acted in films, and was a thoughtful and articulate person who gave sincere answers to even the most shallow interview questions.
These confines won’t really encourage you to read the film as a metaphor for the nerve-inducing experience we’ve all been through over the last year, however — and in the interest of maintaining your dignity, you probably shouldn’t. While the sociopolitical commentary may have worked for the similarly-themed Buried (2010), in which we find Ryan Reynolds on his own buried alive in the Middle East, but this futuristic take on the premise is best left as a piece of distracting entertainment. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is no less suffocating, literally and dramatically.
Can a piece of bad representation truly be reclaimed? We Are Pat (2025) attempts to answer this question.
Mulan had to struggle to feel like herself and see herself properly. Some of us have to strive to have our reflection mimic what’s inside. We have to crawl. We have to fight.
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.
