The Break-Up (1930)

Wilde’s coming-of-age comedy directorial debut is simultaneously hilarious and entertaining, and remarkably heartfelt and relatable.

A Christmas tale that everyone is wishing for, and that everyone will remember.

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.

Clearly, in the end, Allison raised a responsible child because she knew that her "friend" was doing something that made her uncomfortable and turned away from her. No worries, Super mom was already one step ahead of her.

Portraying how easy it is to be an ally heavily benefits the majority audience. The more we encourage it, normalize it, and give people the tools to become one, the sooner we can co-exist peacefully.

In a film where a Black couple is framed to be the lead characters, they still managed to get shuffled off to the sidelines. The enthusiastic cast delivers well on goofy bits- but can only go so far before they begin to fall flat.