To Hear 

That gut-wrenching feeling you have while watching it is okay but needed, and you, the viewer, will be okay.

At 2:17 a.m., every child in a third-grade class wakes up, leaves their home, and disappears into the darkness—except one. The next day, teacher Justine Gandy discovers that Alex Lily is the only student left, while the rest have vanished without a trace. Did Justine have something to do with it, or is a far more sinister force stalking the town, targeting not just children, but anyone in its path?

The plot could’ve really been interesting if the elements of lycanthropy was integrated with perhaps the struggle of identity of being LGBTQ+. It's an experience for so many that as they’re starting to realizing their true selves, they feel like a monster, especially if they come from unsupportive homes or communities. Instead, the horror and transformation elements seem thrown in without contemplation of how this could deepen the narrative.

Despite its glaring flaws, First Girl I Loved is not entirely undeserving of a watch. For people who can handle the more difficult aspects of the story and graphic scenes, it is worth looking into. It’s not a film worthy of rewatch, but it may still resonate somewhat with those who need a story like this. It is a genuine, if flimsy attempt at a coming-of-age tale. Were the film to be directed by someone with experiences more similar to Anne, it would likely be more powerful--as it is, it feels like a man’s perspective of what it means to come to terms with your identity as a lesbian. 

Rare in the days of franchise sequels and indie horror films that dominate the screen in 2026, Netflix’s latest original release, Remarkably Bright Creatures, is a feel-good family movie that leaves nothing to be desired except tissues. Starring Sally Field and Lewis Pullman as two cleaners at a small-town aquarium, Remarkably Bright Creatures reminds viewers that humans are social animals whose strength comes not from our intelligence or our opposable thumbs, but from each other.

"Driveways" is a nuanced portrait of an Asian American family, touching on themes of loss, growth, and belonging.