Without a Trace 

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.

While it is more than established that Halston’s life is far from a fairytale, the narrative suffers as a result of the decision to revolve more around sex and drugs than his artistry, it likely does a disservice to his cultural impact by pulling focus from his achievements.

Adam McKay might have been more concerned with cramming cameos than he was in this story which is a bloated criticism of the rich and famous… delivered unto us by the rich and famous. 

With so many Disney remakes out and about in the world and loosed upon Hollywood cinema, there is one Disney film that truly needs to be seen and witnessed on the big screen: Princess and the Frog.

So with the recent (rightful) public apologies to Britney from comedians and media for trashing her image in the 2000s, perhaps some people should also give Crossroads the fair chance it deserves. It won't be everyone's cup of tea, and that is fine. Personally, I will take my girl Britney and her movie, over the next testosterone "Dude Flick" any day.

A bond between a girl and her dog takes an unexpected twist as the dog is not what it seems.