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Halle's belting, crystal clear notes, and warm tone infused something into this blockbuster that I thoroughly enjoy.

A trouble-making teenager spends the summer working at a Southern California beach learning about responsibility.

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.

At Coopers Chase, murder isn’t just tragedy—it’s Thursday’s entertainment. Chris Columbus’ The Thursday Murder Club transforms Richard Osman’s bestselling series into a cozy, clever whodunit where Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley, and Celia Imrie prove that life’s sharpest twists don’t stop with age. With llamas on the lawn, cakes at the ready, and secrets around every corner, this star-powered mystery balances charm, humor, and heartache, reminding us that friendship, resilience, and reinvention might just be the ultimate clues.

Directed by George Miller, Thunderdome continues to follow the titular character through post-apocalyptic Australia.

Coralie Fargeat once said that “Being a woman is body horror,” and when you think about the ways we are taught to experience our own bodies, it becomes almost impossible to argue with her.