Knives Out: Sharpest Writing of 2019?
Knives Out doesn’t just defy the whodunit narrative, it uses the weaknesses to its advantage. It’s well aware of the genre’s faults and tropes

After the death of her father, Lisa, student, moves into a new house with his mother Wida , brother Vino, cool musicians, and her sister Vivi. Lala, her friend, often stays there, because Lisa needs a friend. On the way to the new home, they pass the Doll Tree, a mysterious tree hung with a lot of dolls. When passing through the tree, they accidentally breaking the taboos. Luckyly they arrive at their new home which is far from the crowds and has no neighbours.
Knives Out doesn’t just defy the whodunit narrative, it uses the weaknesses to its advantage. It’s well aware of the genre’s faults and tropes
Emily Henry’s adaptation reaches romance movie standards, but not romance reader standards.
Everything Everywhere All at Once is exactly as the title describes, yet unexpectedly so. It's like the Matrix, but with OCD and hallucinogens, plus a heart’s dose of mother-daughter intergenerational intercultural growing pains. Review and cast.
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.
Korean Dramas deserve your attention and not just the ones on Netflix.
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.