The Proud and Profane (1956)

These confines won’t really encourage you to read the film as a metaphor for the nerve-inducing experience we’ve all been through over the last year, however — and in the interest of maintaining your dignity, you probably shouldn’t. While the sociopolitical commentary may have worked for the similarly-themed Buried (2010), in which we find Ryan Reynolds on his own buried alive in the Middle East, but this futuristic take on the premise is best left as a piece of distracting entertainment. Nevertheless, the atmosphere is no less suffocating, literally and dramatically.

Leveraging the cockiness of many of his interview subjects, Theroux created an exposing documentary that shows just how scary these sections of the internet can be.

This is not a film, it’s a drop tower.  A drop tower that you don’t get off of for the vast majority of its 106-minute runtime. 

Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus is a beautiful, poignant, enraging, gut-wrenching, and heartbreaking film about the trauma and harm conversion therapy inflicts on young queer people. Even though its classification as horror holds, the emotional bond between the two main characters, Naim and Ryan, elevates the story into a realistic romantic drama on par with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Not only can viewing Not My Dog inspire people to adopt a dog that may be facing tremendous odds, but even that simple action of watching has a social effect. 

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.