Avatar: The Last Airbender Both Protests and Embodies Colonialism
Avatar: The Last Airbender's success fifteen years after its premiere proves the enduring power of its storytelling. But it's more than just a quality show.

Firsthand accounts of industrial workers and worker poetry are embedded within other nonfiction sources, woven into a melancholic elegy alongside a visual narrative depicting failed social encounters with mermaids. Packed within its digital body is an assembled archive of disappeared women activists, tens of thousands of digital proofs of the existence of fighting women, preserved against the dissolution of memory.
Avatar: The Last Airbender's success fifteen years after its premiere proves the enduring power of its storytelling. But it's more than just a quality show.
“Synchronic” is special, but it doesn’t succeed in achieving all the objectives it aims for. The film is a science fiction oeuvre which tries to be cerebral at some points, although the original idea is interesting, it only accomplishes to talk about some serious matters superficially.
The Last Son of Krypton returns as the kind-hearted, blue-eyed boy scout we all know and love.
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.
We have a long way to go with LGBT representation in film, especially when it comes to LGBT characters of color and trans characters.
Mai yells what every parent dreads hearing from their child: “tao ghét mày” (“I hate you”) and runs from the scene, where Hai discovers that Mai was telling the truth about the wallet.