Krishnam Vande Jagadgurum 

Disney has a glaring and, up until recently, unaddressed issue that spans nearly its entire lifetime - an absence of diversity.

A consumed-by-rage woman travels from universe to universe to avenge the death of her daughter by brutally killing her murderer over and over again. And that's all that she does.

If you were to watch it on streaming when you have nothing to do, it’s still probably a giant waste of time, but you could do far worse.  Paying $18 for a movie ticket and who knows how much for concessions turns this from an exercise in boredom to an exercise in frustration. 

America is the crux of the storyline: she is the only person in existence with the power to jump between universes. As central as America is to the Multiverse of Madness story, she somehow didn’t get that much to do.

The multifaceted musical represents America in the 1960s and the battle against bigotry as an ensemble cast portrays how to fight for the limelight.

With mismatched eyes, a willingness to experiment with hair color and style, and a rail thin frame, Bowie always drew attention. But he shunned gendered attractiveness, creating his own space somewhere in between. This hallucinatory and often nonlinear 2022 documentary is a perfect salute to David Bowie’s life and career. Rather than interviewing those that knew Bowie, the standard convention for biographical portraits, director Brett Morgen mostly lets the artist’s images, performances, videos, and words speak to capture the essence of the artist. Bowie was more than just a pop star. He painted, sculpted, acted in films, and was a thoughtful and articulate person who gave sincere answers to even the most shallow interview questions.