The Blues, and Two Contradictory Films That Claim It
Crossroads follows a young guitarist on a journey through the American South in search of blues history and his own voice.

Galicia, northern Spain, January 2, 1921. The steamship Santa Isabel, sailing towards Argentina with more than two hundred emigrants on board, sinks off the coast of Sálvora Island. Three island women, María, Josefa and Cipriana, who have bravely set sail aboard a fragile skiff to save the shipwrecked, are treated as heroes by the cynical authorities; but León, an inquisitive and tenacious Argentinean journalist, starts asking uncomfortable questions.
Crossroads follows a young guitarist on a journey through the American South in search of blues history and his own voice.
Its predictability shouldn’t distract from the enjoyment that the pure cinematic imagination behind the camera elicits. It is a movie of crises both moral and mortal, oozing with CGI, and thoroughly enjoyable.
On top of the phenomenal acting, and great dialogue between the two characters, the cinematography was ravishing! The sound was outstanding! The production design was simple, yet intrinsic. The minimalistic approach in the Malibu beach house represented how little they really have going on in their relationship. The storyline may have been much simpler than "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf," but all the more insightful, and much more animalistic at its core.
The Roses is a wickedly sharp marital warfare comedy that transforms domestic dysfunction into high art. Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch deliver powerhouse performances as a couple whose fairy-tale romance implodes when his architectural career collapses just as her culinary empire takes off. What makes Jay Roach's remake so devastatingly effective is its refusal to pick sides—both spouses are equally sympathetic and monstrous, wielding Tony McNamara's razor-sharp dialogue like weapons forged from shared intimacies. It's a film that dares you to laugh at relationship wreckage while forcing you to confront the uncomfortable truth that the line between passionate love and mutual destruction is terrifyingly thin.
GOAT (2026) opens to the chanting of a crowd: "Roots run deep!" The rest of the film goes on to echo that sentiment, offering gorgeous animation and a heartfelt story along the way.
Written and directed by Eva Victor, who also plays Agnes, the main character, Sorry, Baby is slow and artsy, but extremely effective. It shows how the trauma developed after a sexual assault has a ripple effect and loudly echoes in the victim and her life for years after.