Bring Her Back: the Psychological Threat and How to Grieve Properly
The external threat invaded the domestic environment at the most valuable moment: grieving.

For decades, Barbara Dane lent her stellar singing voice to social-justice movements in the Bay Area and beyond, garnering an impressive FBI file along the way. Deeply respected by fellow luminaries in folk, blues and jazz, Dane built a far-reaching legacy with music, activism, and love. As Maureen Gosling’s celebratory portrait reveals, early solidarity with those suffering racial and economic injustice sparked Dane’s passion to use her talent to sustain marginalized people. Rather than chase stardom, she followed her own maternal instincts to root herself and her family among generations of activist performers. Bonnie Raitt, Jane Fonda and other notables attest to Dane’s unique way of shaping and being shaped by tumultuous social revolutions from the 1950s on. Nearing 90, Dane triumphantly tours with piano virtuoso Tammy Hall to celebrate a life of staying awake and connected, true to her ideals. One star among many illuminates so much.
The external threat invaded the domestic environment at the most valuable moment: grieving.
Housefull 5 attempts something bold with two endings — but does the gamble pay off? Read this spoiler-filled review for a breakdown of both versions, standout moments, and why it might be the franchise’s most forgettable entry yet.
Like most young people, Leviticus is imperfect. But I love it anyways.
Diversity is incorporated in a way that only aids in a well-rounded conveying of stories through different lenses. The show’s success is a testament to what audiences are craving: authentic stories that broaden the mind and heart.
Kat Wahlen’s The Whiteboard tells, or rather shows, a delightful love story between two young women who meet in detention.
Naked Gun: The New Police Squad Team delivers exactly what fans want: relentless, expertly crafted chaos that honors the original while cranking everything up to eleven. The gags fire at machine-gun pace—sight jokes layered with wordplay and physical comedy so outrageous it borders on art. It's gleefully self-aware without being cynical, silly without being stupid, and maintains that perfect ZAZ-style balance of treating absolute absurdity with complete seriousness. The film knows exactly what it is: a comedy missile designed for maximum laughs, and it hits its target with surgical precision. Pure, unhinged entertainment that proves spoof comedy still has plenty of life left in it.