Phantom of Death (1988)

Omaha reminds us of what it can feel like to look at old family photographs.  You sit with the bittersweetness, allowing it to wash over you; not drowning in it, but certainly affected by it. 

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.

Queen & Slim is a nice example of representation in both cast and crew

In a Whisper is a coming out narrative, but it’s also a story about multiple mother-daughter relationships and the necessity of family.

This little Netflix film was very inspirational. It passes the Bechdel test, and features a different worldview with rural Indian representation.

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.