My Mother, the Zombie 

The newest in a long line of Cinderella adaptations, Amazon’s Cinderella (2021) prizes girlbossification above the very story it tries to adapt.

The original series is now on Netflix, you should definitely give it a watch. And if you’ve already seen it, watch it again.

When the retelling of the Cinderella fairy tale and a holiday spirit come together, viewers learn about class issues as well as perseverance despite setbacks.

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.

This horror, action, and fantasy movie released on Disney+ has a symbolic aspect.

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.