For Brooke, life is good. She's a successful Washington DC architect and happily married. After her father's passing, she receives a substantial financial windfall. She suffers from mental exhaustion and seeks the help of a therapist. Soon, her inheritance begins to disappear. Her life becomes unstable as she becomes unsure if her husband and loved ones are plotting to steal her inheritance or if she's losing her mind. The truth reveals itself in a climax of lies, deception and violence that will keep you guessing until the fatal end.
... La huesera haunts her daily life, leaving people to question her viability as a mother, and Valeria’s lack of satisfaction with her life leave her asking similar questions. These misgivings reach their peak after the baby is born, when Valeria, visibly in a state akin to possession, locks her in the fridge when she won’t stop crying through the night
As a huge fan of Sean Baker’s Tangerine, The Florida Project, and Red Rocket, I’ve wanted to watch Anora since before it even was released. But life got in the way, my watchlist grew, and honestly, the fact that it was marketed as a romantic comedy put me off. Even with all the critical praise and the five Academy Awards it won last year, I just kept postponing it indefinitely.
A decade since it aired, Shameless (U.S.) has always stuck to its guns (and baseball bats) about character diversity.
Another story focuses on the bond between a young man and a shelter dog in this Netflix drama film.
The film is a documentary focusing on heavy metal in the late 80s and tackles topics like drug addiction, alcoholism, sex, masculinity, and of course, rock and roll. However, this didn’t feel like any documentary I’ve ever seen before.
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.
