This is a love story set in the steppes of Central Asia of today. Temür a thirty year old Kazakh decides to start life again in his ancestral village in the Kyrghyz Mountains. He discovers soon after his arrival that he is a misfit in this settlement of old conservative Islamic men,some women and children. The only ray of hope for him is Amira a young married woman who waits in frustration for her absentee husband - a Mujahideen. Temur watches sorrowfully as the individual village stories unfold at the same as he tries to help the community out in any way he can. In this way he comes closer to Amira and Taib, her young brother-in-law. In a dead end situation the lovers decide to leave the settlement and travel to a place that would hold out with their dreams. Written by Mira Tanna-Händel
Apatow’s latest film, The King of Staten Island, is no different. The movie tells the story of Scott (Pete Davidson), the 24-year-old son of a deceased firefighter who passed away when Scott was 7
“Unsung” does not begin to describe the obscurity Bayard Rustin endured in the shadows of the Civil Rights Movement
‘Better Than Chocolate’ isn’t perfect, but it sure has charm! The characters are great. Some took longer to grow on me than others, but ultimately they’re all compelling! I appreciate how a select few help those around them to grow.
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.
Barry Jenkins' masterpiece holds up as the story of a lifetime centered on the intersection of Blackness and gay identity.
There’s enough evidence to insinuate that What We Do in the Shadows is intentionally queer-coded.
