Entitlement and the Food Industry in 'The Menu'
'The Menu' has a strong story. The 5 acts, which are defined by the courses, are an excellent subversion of the classic 5-act film structure.

LGBTQ+ activist Qiuyan Chen became an unexpected celebrity due to her courageous legal battle against homophobic university textbooks in the 2010s. However, this newfound fame came at a price: she was outed by her tutor, subjected to conversion therapy by her parents, and monitored by the Chinese government. To escape these pressures, Qiuyan left for the UK, where she met her partner Bling: but her struggles were far from over. Interweaving reflections on Qiuyan’s sexuality and relationships, Shanshan Chen’s documentary examines this inspiring activist’s commitmentto building a close-knit community designed to support queer East Asian people in the UK: a solo endeavour that evolves into a movement with a growing support base.
'The Menu' has a strong story. The 5 acts, which are defined by the courses, are an excellent subversion of the classic 5-act film structure.
It took writers D.B Weiss and David Benioff two years to give us a promising final season. Two. Years. It was just going to be six episodes, which was short considering that all the other seasons — except season 7 — were 10 episodes. 10. 6 wasn’t enough, and even HBO wanted to give the writers more episodes. More seasons, even. However, the writers wanted to get out of the show as quickly as possible to work on other projects. This abruptness is clearly shown in this season.
Remakes. Reboots. Reinventions. Redundancy. It's the common practice in Hollywood of late, sometimes offering us victorious reimagining of what can be considered cinematic classics while also, more often, falling flat on their UN-imaginative faces in utter defeat and lackluster results. Admittedly, with this in mind, I went into the newest incarnation of "The War of the Roses" with typical trepidation and cautious optimism.
'An American Werewolf in London' possesses a possible queer reading in the way it envisions a heterosexual romance being undone by the presence of a creature who embodies self-contentment in the face of social alienation.
Sorry to Bother You ultimately speaks to the unfair advantages that the country’s power structures award to those with the resources to control others, as Lift’s easy access to the media allows his opinion to be the only one that matters in the eyes of the unsuspecting and easily impressed public. Moreover, it reveals the extent to which the American Dream has any true validity. It postulates how the promise of success and fulfillment as promoted by the American Dream more often than not leads to the undoing of the individual. Interestingly, in its revealing of the American Dream as merely a facade, Sorry to Bother You wisely questions whether or not anything can really be done to undo a system that has been accepted and in action for centuries.
Dune has stunning visuals, a striking soundtrack, and great performances. But it has issues everywhere from its pacing, to its story, to its diverse representation.