Or How to Disappear 

Tom Clancy's Without Remorse has everything a movie director from the 80’s could wish.

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

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.

Monster's plot is built around Steve Harmon's false accessory to felony murder accusation, and the anxiety and desperation experienced by him during incarceration and the corresponding trial.

Netflix's Afterlife of the Party might fall into the rom-com genre, but it's much more about grief, strong female friendships, and platonic love than it is about romance.

I’m still trying to comprehend the psychological and moral implications of their fascination with each other, or why their almost written-in-the-stars depth of connection makes so much sense.