“Dead Poets Society”: Why Neil’s Father Stood "Before The Law"
Dead Poets Society brilliantly combines defeat and optimism, rejection and love, craziness and daring, fear and freedom.

Rabia, a young woman, lives with her mother and her ailing grandmother while struggling with the traumas of her past. Trapped between the constant voices of her mother and grandmother, she leads a suppressed and constricted life. When the man she once loved, Fatih, marries her cousin Zehra, her inner world completely collapses. Her repressed anger and guilt take physical form through a small “hangnail” that appears at the edge of her fingernail.
Dead Poets Society brilliantly combines defeat and optimism, rejection and love, craziness and daring, fear and freedom.
There’s been a longstanding criticism of sci-fi films about its lack of Black characters. For the past few years, Anthony Mackie has been successfully representing Black masculinity in the otherwise homogenous genre and I am here for it.
Despite its glaring flaws, First Girl I Loved is not entirely undeserving of a watch. For people who can handle the more difficult aspects of the story and graphic scenes, it is worth looking into. It’s not a film worthy of rewatch, but it may still resonate somewhat with those who need a story like this. It is a genuine, if flimsy attempt at a coming-of-age tale. Were the film to be directed by someone with experiences more similar to Anne, it would likely be more powerful--as it is, it feels like a man’s perspective of what it means to come to terms with your identity as a lesbian.
John Fawcett’s "Ginger Snaps" intertwines the lore of the werewolf to the hellish experience of a young girl going through puberty.
An aspect of She-Ra that I find refreshing is even though a large portion of the cast is on the LGBTQ+ Spectrum, being gay is never mentioned. While this might initially sound like a negative thing, in the show’s land of Etheria being on the gay spectrum is shown to be so common and normalized that straight isn’t the default. As much as there is to appreciate about narratives revolving around the obstacles that may come from being non-heteronormative, it’s nice to get immersed in a world where no one bats an eye at all to any sort of differing identity.
Remakes. Reboots. Reinventions. Redundancy. It's the common practice in Hollywood of late, sometimes offering us victorious reimagining of what can be considered cinematic classics while also, more often, falling flat on their UN-imaginative faces in utter defeat and lackluster results. Admittedly, with this in mind, I went into the newest incarnation of "The War of the Roses" with typical trepidation and cautious optimism.