Welcome to a very special massage house where professional masseuses are powerless to resist their gorgeous TS clients. Classic beauty Vixxen makes an appointment with Daniel (Robert Axel) but instead gets a ginger hunk (Connor Maguire), who tries - and fails - to resist Vixxen's sexy feet and huge cock. Meanwhile, older woman Magdalene St. Michaels experiences the best type of sexual healing from quiet but dirty-minded masseuse Nina Lawless. After hunky Wolf Hudson confesses to California blonde Aubrey Kate that "vagina does nothing for me," Aubrey offers her masseuse a pleasant surprise. And Vixxen returns for that session with Robert Axel, where she literally turns the tables on the hot, muscular stud. Starring Aubrey Kate, Nina Lawless, Vixxen, MAgdalene St. Michaels, Connor Maguire, Wolf Hudson and Robert Axel. Written and directed by Nica Noelle.
The cancelling of these series is being blamed on the writers' strike and low viewership, but it's just the latest example of the industry's lack of appreciation for stories about queer women.
Written and directed by Eva Victor, who also plays Agnes, the main character, Sorry, Baby is slow and artsy, but extremely effective. It shows how the trauma developed after a sexual assault has a ripple effect and loudly echoes in the victim and her life for years after.
'Brother' is a gripping family drama with dazzling performances all around.
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.
'Motherless Brooklyn' is a 1950s whodunit made by its star, Edward Norton. Like most detective films in this setting, the cast is mostly white males (with a few notable exceptions).
Him is visually stunning—all concrete cathedrals and bone-rattling impact shots that look like a nightmare highlight reel. Marlon Wayans is magnetic as this legendary quarterback who's basically selling salvation with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. But the story keeps running in circles: more tests, more cryptic pep talks, more ritualistic drills. The sports-as-religion metaphor beats you over the head when subtlety would've been more effective. The middle drags, and that finale chooses spectacle over substance. It's undeniably stylish, but left me cold. Also worth noting: despite the Monkeypaw connection, this isn't actually a Jordan Peele film—he didn't write or direct.
