
Lady and Tramp's mischievous pup, Scamp, gets fed up with rules and restrictions imposed on him by life in a family, and longs for a wild and free lifestyle. He runs away from home and into the streets where he joins a pack of stray dogs known as the "Junkyard Dogs." Buster, the pack's leader, takes an instant disliking to the "house-dog" and considers him a rival. Angel, a junkyard pup Scamp's age, longs for the safety and comfort of life in a family and the two become instant companions. Will Scamp choose the wild and free life of a stray or the unconditional love of his family?
Despite everything it was capable of, all of these poor choices strung together amount to nothing more than a counter-productive film.
As legal dramas go, we rarely see an African-American actor in the lead role. "The Burial" has several.
Outer Banks (2020-) knows its audience: young adults in a country that can’t stop romanticizing good ole’ treasure hunts. Add a little of Riverdale’s (2017-) sex appeal, and no one can look away. Forty years after The Goonies (1985) America’s consciousness hasn’t strayed from the same tropes: treasure hunts, a vulnerable white male lead, and the whitewashing of a racially segregated setting.
What makes the lighting in Casablanca even more impressive is how it reflects the emotional states of the characters without needing explicit dialogue.
Netflix’s Shadow and Bone has a complicated relationship with race. It has a diverse cast, but not without its problems. Based on Leigh Bardugo’s two book series, the show features characters from the Shadow and Bone trilogy, which is very straight and white, and the Six of Crows duology, which is much more diverse. When bringing together a cast and writing about these characters, the team behind the show expanded upon some of the representation missing from the first trilogy, then seemed to take away representation from the duology. Shadow and Bone seems to play a bit of a push and pull game when it comes to portraying diversity onscreen.