‘RUSTIN’: "Unsung" Is An Understatement
“Unsung” does not begin to describe the obscurity Bayard Rustin endured in the shadows of the Civil Rights Movement

This is the story of four friends who went to the taiga in the hope of making money. But their campaign turned into a tragedy: because of the meanness of his comrade, the main character Anat falls off a cliff, and if not for the help of a mysterious hermit, he would have gone where they are not returning. And at home the bride is waiting for him, and in order to find out the fate of her beloved, she turns to the shaman ...
“Unsung” does not begin to describe the obscurity Bayard Rustin endured in the shadows of the Civil Rights Movement
There’s no two ways about it — Bridgerton is horny. Shondaland’s newest venture- released on Netflix on Christmas- is certainly a spectacle to behold, just as the premise; essentially an Austenian, Regency-Era Gossip Girl, helmed by Shonda Rhimes, the reigning queen of steamy romance television. It would not be inaccurate to describe it as Jane Austen porn.
Carolina Caroline follows Caroline (Samara Weaving), a bored young woman dreaming of escaping a small Texas town where nothing ever happens. When she meets Oliver (Kyle Gallner) at her workplace while he is conning the owner, she sees her perfect opportunity to get out. Their whirlwind romance strongly echoes Bonnie and Clyde, as the two quickly embark on a bank-robbing spree.
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.
It only seems to prove that when the company had their backs against the wall and needed an all pleasing, generic movie that had to make up for The Last Jedi, they chose to sacrifice almost everything that made their main protagonist interesting and that made her stand out as the strong female character that a generation of young movie goers was supposed to look up to. Instead, we were left with a Rey that was so much less than she could have been. And I guess that’s the real story of Rey and The Rise of Skywalker; they could have been so much more, but they were just more of the same.
I hadn’t heard of it either until recently—and yet, it’s one of the highest grossing movies of all time.