Me Filma 

Emily Henry’s adaptation reaches romance movie standards, but not romance reader standards.

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.

"The Haunting of Hill House" isn't your typical horror story. Based on a novel by Shirley Jackson, Netflix's masterpiece and limited horror series takes you on a emotional rollercoaster ride, by turning our perception of mental illness on its head. It's an unforgettable story about a loveable family, who grapples with tragedy and love after living at the foreboding Hill House.

Ditch the lube and get to the point in the raw, honest, cheeky dramedy written and directed by Mark Schwab.

These confines won’t really encourage you to read the film as a metaphor for the nerve-inducing experience we’ve all been through over the last year, however — and in the interest of maintaining your dignity, you probably shouldn’t. While the sociopolitical commentary may have worked for the similarly-themed Buried (2010), in which we find Ryan Reynolds on his own buried alive in the Middle East, but this futuristic take on the premise is best left as a piece of distracting entertainment. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is no less suffocating, literally and dramatically.

In all actuality, “Just Mercy” should be labeled a “wall punching narrative.” Constantly, the flick throws high forms of adversity our way, amping up our most inner levels of discomfort. Filmmaker Destin Daniel Cretton wonderfully paces the film in such a way that replicates the slow-burn nature of justice.