A man is consumed with the idea of acquiring a chair from a bric-a-brac shop.
The major flaw of the series is that it’s hosted on Netflix and barely makes malicious comments about it despite being focused on the lives of people directly affected by the Capitalist mentality of the OTT corporation.
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.
Gritty and bleak are the best words to describe this film. There’s nothing happy about it.
Tran Quoc Bao succeeds in telling us a story about martial arts, human decay, and friendship. The originality shown by his filmmaking is admirable and brings fresh air to the classic Chinese martial arts genre.
The assassins in Bullet Train are quirky, deadly, and diverse. Yet, they all seem to be some type of caricature. While the movie is fun and action-packed, it’s also packed with stereotypes that don’t make for the best representation.
Films about casinos have long been a favorite of Hollywood. This is unsurprising, as they're often tied to magnetic characters whose lives revolve around luxury, spectacle, and even danger.
