Pasta Politics 

Overall, Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is plagued by numerous flaws, both from a quality and from a diversity standpoint.  The film relies on gore and loud sounds to drown out its flat script, flatter dialogue, and one-dimensional characters. 

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.

A brave Indian woman rises from an oppressive background to become an inspired leader for women and men alike around the globe.

What can I say about this Will Ferrell/Julia Louis-Dreyfus-led “dramedy?” Well, the comedy part of Downhill is completely non-existent. And I should have known that the film was a flop when I walked into an empty theater at a prime time on a Friday night.

Neo Sora left a realistic and yet hopeful notion for the near future and the now.