The Weirdness that is 'Severance'
Severance is about breaking down facades and confronting old models that were once frameworks of our lives. The somewhat subtle message to me is it’s never too late to fall in love, no matter your insecurities.

Over forty and in a bit of a midlife crisis, Tunisian film director Raouf is prone to excessive drinking when not engaged in an argument with his French-born wife Lou (Marianne Basler). One respite to Raouf's dreary life is a recent film assignment -- to shoot an autobiographical film about his childhood. While working on the script, Raouf recalls his childhood home life under the strictures instituted by his devoutly religious father. The polar opposite of Raouf's father was his uncle Mansour, a jolly, life-loving soul who introduced Raouf to cinema through his work as a wandering film projectionist, which angered and shocked his father to no end but proved to be the most pivotal development in the youngster's life. Through cinema, Raouf found his place in this world and came-of-age -- something he may have to revisit in his adult life if he wishes to salvage his marriage.
Severance is about breaking down facades and confronting old models that were once frameworks of our lives. The somewhat subtle message to me is it’s never too late to fall in love, no matter your insecurities.
The film is trying to revive DC's former glory, it really is, it just doesn't have everything it needs to get there. Luckily, Black Adam isn't as bad as many internet haters want you to think it is.
Even if Drive My Car (2021) doesn't win Best Picture, it exudes a palpable sense of dreariness and lifelessness that is further embodied by Yusuke, portrayed tragically by Hidetoshi Nishijima. Check out movie reviews & summary!
Richard speaks with Dia Frampton about some of her experiences with acting and music.
This year, in light of the pandemic and the inability to gather with our loved ones, a few of our staff members reviewed their favorite holiday films with the hope of recreating some of the sentimentality that reminds us of home.
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.