Three strangers wake up suddenly on a descending elevator. To their horror, Clare, Ross, and Jeb soon realize that they are all karmically linked in a deeper way than meets the eye, and that this elevator symbolizes a passage to the afterlife. In a deeply haunting and claustrophobic examination of fate vs. destiny, the three discover that what is waiting on the other side of the elevator doors is created by their own beliefs.
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.
“Trust your gut" is one of the most common pieces of advice you’ll receive during your lifetime. And as a person inclined to trust my intuition above all else, it’s the most common advice I find myself giving in real life and in my online socialising. But what happens when your gut is trying to warn you that something is seriously wrong without you being able to identify what triggered it in the first place? How can you act on a feeling or make it go away when you don’t have a clue about what could be wrong? How can you trust your intuition when you don’t know what makes it act out in the first place?
Nick Rowland’s She Rides Shotgun is a blistering, blood-soaked road thriller that doubles as a bruised love story between a haunted ex-con (a career-best Taron Egerton) and the daughter he barely knows (astonishing newcomer Ana Sophia Heger). Fueled by white-knuckle chases, razor-tense shootouts, and quiet moments of aching tenderness, the film captures both the terror and fragile beauty of survival. It’s gritty, heartbreaking, and unforgettable—a father-daughter odyssey destined to leave audiences shaken.
Written and directed by Rian Johnson (Looper, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi), Knives Out was one of the most clever and intricately crafted films of 2019.
In all actuality, “Just Mercy” should be labeled a “wall punching narrative.” Constantly, the flick throws high forms of adversity our way, amping up our most inner levels of discomfort. Filmmaker Destin Daniel Cretton wonderfully paces the film in such a way that replicates the slow-burn nature of justice.
That feeling in your gut which tells you that there’s something out there you should look for and make your own, is what the power represents
