In the future, large corporations earn millions of dollars by staging gladiatorial fights to the death that are shown on worldwide television. One day, however, a fighter who is scheduled to hunt and kill an opponent in the Arizona desert decides he's had enough, and makes a run for it. His opponent is instructed to track him down and kill him.
Clearly, in the end, Allison raised a responsible child because she knew that her "friend" was doing something that made her uncomfortable and turned away from her. No worries, Super mom was already one step ahead of her.
The biggest highlight of the film is easily the performance of Andrew Garfield. In his days since hanging up his Spiderman suit, Garfield has routinely churned out great performances, and Mainstream is no exception. He proves that he is willing to try anything and go anywhere in a character.
Netflix's Afterlife of the Party might fall into the rom-com genre, but it's much more about grief, strong female friendships, and platonic love than it is about romance.
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.
A boy named Max experiences adventure within his own house while staying home alone.
