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Kitty Green and Julia Garner have teamed up again (and this time Jessica Henwick is along for the ride) in Green’s latest film, The Royal Hotel. Traveling abroad with your best friend is a rite of passage. Drinking too much, running out of money, and meeting people from other countries, all seem like a fun adventure until you find yourself trapped in a potentially threatening situation. That’s what happens when Hanna and Liv find themselves working at a bar in a remote part of the Australian Outback where the clientele is almost entirely made up of male miners. Their first night employed at the Royal Hotel bar is simultaneously a going-away party for the previously employed working tourists (two women from the United Kingdom) who decide to go out with a bang: getting wasted, climbing on top of the bar, and subsequently, almost missing their flight home the following morning. That first night is extreme, but not insanely out of the ordinary for a backpacking experience abroad. It’s not until the next day when things have seemingly settled down, that their new job becomes more ominous for the film’s main characters. As in Green’s previous film, The Assistant, red flags start popping up from time to time that continue to mount the entire film. Green does a really excellent job at creating these quiet atmospheres that are poised and ready to explode. Most of the central action takes place inside the bar at the Royal Hotel - a dark and dingy space filled with jarred snakes and beer bottles. After starring in 2020's The Assistant, Julia Garner is back, this time as Hanna, in an equally steely performance. Hanna initially seems fun - open to making out with strangers and dancing - until she runs out of money and is forced to work with Liv at the hotel. Her character walks the line between seeming uptight and seeming entirely validated in trusting her instincts. Green, in collaboration with Garner, does a wonderful job of putting us in that vulnerable first-person headspace. Hanna is trying to make the most of a bad situation while it continues to wear her down. As in The Assistant, there’s a mounting sense of dread throughout the film, which is a slow boil to its climax. Jessica Henwick does her best with a less fleshed-out character as Liv, Hanna's friend who just wants to party and have fun; she almost seems to enjoy letting Hanna do all of the worrying for both of them while she goes about her business. There are hints in their conversations that Liv wanted to get as far away from home as possible but that thread never gets tied up. I would have liked to have seen more backstory or more fun happening between the two friends before they are put through the wringer of their job placement, but c'est la vie. While Liv initially tells Hanna to “lighten up,” there comes a point in the film when she realizes that the threats Hanna fears are indeed real. There is little protection or comfort for the girls to be found in the bar’s owner Billy, played by Hugo Weaving. Billy constantly walks a line between drunken rage and total wasted obliteration. There are only two female characters in the movie, Carol (Ursula Yovich) the bar’s cook and Billy’s sometime romantic partner, and Glenda (Barbara Lowing) an older alcoholic who only seems to egg on the drunken men at the bar around her. Toby Wallace, who I loved in 2019’s Babyteeth, plays Matty, who may be the least outwardly threatening of the bar’s male clientele (looking to date Hanna despite her initial reticence), but he is not totally blameless either. There’s also a fun cameo performance by Herbert Nordrum (of The Worst Person in the World fame) as a friendly traveler hoping to hook up with Hanna again, but he has no idea what he’s getting into. Green’s latest film is another tense watch that had me gritting my teeth and nodding along in sympathetic recognition throughout. It’s worth the watch and I kind of hope Julia Garner continues to work with her in the future as her own personal patron saint of ghastly working conditions. Diana DiMuro Besides watching TV and movies, Diana likes plants, the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school dropout. You can follow her on Instagram @dldimuro and Twitter @DianaDiMuro

Mike Burdge and Tim Irwin chat about that dang big boi, Godzilla, who has once again taken the world by storm with their passive aggressive city smashing and glowy roar lasers. The movie is absolutely stunning. Listen on....

Mike is joined by returning holiday guest, Yarko Dobriansky, to chat about a new Christmas classic they've been revisiting the past few years: 2005's hitman-dark-comedy, The Matador. Along the way, they talk about the careers of the cast, Brosnan's recent ventures, what makes something ACTUALLY a Christmas movie, and somehow, Lost. Listen on....

Mike Burdge and Diana DiMuro kick-off the week of Christmas by visiting an ol' classic in their household: The Muppet Christmas Carol! Topics of discussion include Michael Caine's INSANE performance, the Muppet line-up as a whole, the different types of Muppet movies they grew up with, and of course, chickens. Listen on, and Happy Holidays!

As picked by an Ol' Millennial raised by the TV. (So I know what I’m talking about). This article has been updated regarding streaming options as of December 8, 2023. Well, folks, it may feel like this year has lasted the equivalent of ten years, but we have somehow made it to December 2020. (Breathe. Relax. Wear your damn mask.) In the spirit of the holiday season, I’m here to present you with my top ten favorite holiday television episodes of all time (with the caveat that if you ask me next week, I may bombard you with several more episodes that I wish I had written about). 10. Happy Days, “Guess Who’s Coming to Christmas?” (Season 2 Episode 11; Available to stream on Paramount+ and Amazon Prime) I am one of those older millennials who watched a whole lot of classic TV shows back when Nick at Nite actually showed programming that aired before the 1990s because I had well-intentioned but very distracted parents (my mother was battling cancer for most of my childhood). Happy Days captured my heart early, set in 1950’s Milwaukee (though filmed from 1974-1984) it featured the stories of the wholesome Cunningham family, and their unlikely friend, greaser rebel Arthur “Fonzie” Fonzarelli (Henry Winkler, in one of the most iconic television roles in history). This is a very early episode, featuring Mr. Cunningham’s (Tom Bosley) efforts to enact what he believes to be the “perfect” Christmas Eve: family only, decorating the tree, singing Christmas carols together, popping popcorn, and roasting marshmallows over the fire, culminating in his dramatic reading of “The Night Before Christmas.” Simultaneously, Man About Town Fonzie, always a bit of a loner enigma, maintains that he is on his way to a humongous Christmas Eve bash at his cousin’s house in Waukesha. After an emergency trip to Fonzie’s garage to fix Mr. Cunningham’s car after it stalls while they are going home to start Mr. Cunningham’s dream Christmas Eve, Richie (Ron Howard before he became an Academy Award-winning director) realizes that Fonzie has been lying to everyone about Waukesha. He sees Fonzie through the garage window, settling down to eat a sad dinner of ravioli from a can and a sandwich. Back at home, Mr. Cunningham tries to get his family into the Christmas spirit, but when Richie reveals that he knows Fonzie is alone, they go to Fonzie’s apartment and convince him to join them for their Christmas Eve celebrations. This results in Fonzie expertly fixing a broken Christmas tree light, schooling Mr. Cunningham about the correct way to toast popcorn, and asking if he can be the one to read “The Night Before Christmas,” as he says he is “very good at reading poetry.” Mr. Cunningham begrudgingly gives up on his idea of how the perfect Christmas Eve should go, but in the end, it becomes clear that inviting the unconventional Fonzie into their family makes this Christmas Eve actually perfect in its own way. Happy Days was almost always cornball to the extreme over its decade-long run, but Winkler’s performance as Fonzie is so wonderfully sensitive underneath his macho posturing that it is guaranteed to warm your heart. (Also, this sitcom has an absolute banger of a theme song.) 9. The Office, “Diwali” (Season 3 Episode 6; Available to stream on Peacock) I was raised by parents who emigrated from India in 1978, but despite them both being raised in culturally Hindu families while attending English-medium Catholic schools in their youth, my mother was a staunch Marxist – with the accompanying atheism – and refused to raise me in any religious tradition (though she did relent when it came to a Christmas tree and presents, as long as we didn’t talk about Jesus). As a result, although I obviously have an Indian name, anything I know about Hinduism I’ve learned from Bollywood movies – and, loathe as I am to admit it, from this episode of The Office. Written by Mindy Kaling, who also played Kelly Kapoor on the show. In this episode, Kelly invites everyone in the office to a Diwali celebration at the temple her family attends, and wacky hijinks obviously ensue. Ryan Howard (B.J. Novak), Kelly’s boyfriend, tries and fails to make a good impression on Kelly’s parents, while Michael Scott (Steve Carell) decides that the Diwali celebration would be the appropriate time to stage a typically Michael Scott-cringeworthy public proposal to his girlfriend Carol (played by Carell’s real-life wife Nancy Carell), which she of course turns down. I love this episode for the numerous Bollywood songs playing at the temple (I knew all of the lyrics, which either impressed or horrified my boyfriend, I’m still not sure), for the genuine joy that Kelly’s colleagues ultimately find at the event, and for the fact that The Office chose to air this episode in lieu of a Halloween-themed one. As a result, it became the first American comedy series to depict the holiday – a major one on the Hindu calendar (or so I’m told… you know… Marxism). And of course, it’s capped off by Michael and Dwight Schrute (Rainn Wilson) performing an adorable song in honor of Diwali in the style of Adam Sandler’s “Hanukkah Song.” Charming all around. 8. Cheers, “Thanksgiving Orphans” (Season 5 Episode 9, available to stream on Paramount+ and Hulu) Again, I am an older millennial, which means that I was too young to see the first half of NBC’s long-running beloved sitcom, Cheers, and basically, I missed all of the Shelley Long years and have had to catch up on that era of the show through streaming services over two decades later. In this classic episode from 1986, the entire Cheers gang finds themselves at a loose end on Thanksgiving – Sam’s (Ted Danson) plans with his girlfriend Wendy fall through, Frasier (Kelsey Grammar) is lonely after a breakup with nowhere to go, Cliff (John Ratzenberger) doesn’t want to feed the homeless with his mom as he routinely does so during the year, Norm (George Wendt) doesn’t want to go to his mother-in-law’s house where beer and television are verboten, Woody (Woody Harrelson) can’t make it back to Indiana to see his family, and Carla’s (Rhea Pearlman) kids are with her ex-husband Nick. Diane (Long) berates Carla into hosting a Thanksgiving potluck for all of the Thanksgiving Orphans but says she won’t be coming as she has been invited to a party at one of her professors’ houses, which of course irritates everyone (not that it takes much for Diane to irritate them). On Thanksgiving day at Carla’s house, things go spectacularly wrong – and of course, the wacky hijinks ensue. Diane shows up, very upset, dressed as a pilgrim, having fled the professor’s party after realizing that he had intended her to be there as a waitress for the other guests. Her humiliation is so palpable that the gang relents and allows her to stay. When dinner time arrives, the turkey Norm brought is still undercooked, while the side dishes are going cold. Diane insists that dinner cannot start without the turkey, and so Norm and Carla start bickering about who is more at fault for the turkey’s slow cooking time. In frustration, Norm throws peas at Carla, she throws carrots back at him, and the evening devolves into a massive food fight. In the end, Norm’s wife Vera – oft-mentioned but never seen on the show – arrives at Carla’s house having decided to spend the evening with her husband, but is hit with a pie just as she enters, thus ensuring that her face is still never seen by the audience. Cheers is a sitcom often praised for its smart dialogue, witty repartee, and chemistry amongst the cast; this episode proves that this crew could also execute physical comedy just as masterfully. 7. Master of None, “Thanksgiving” (Season 2 Episode 8, available to stream on Netflix) As most of us know, Aziz Ansari had a bit of a fall from grace a couple of years ago after a story of his unwelcome aggressive behavior toward a date came to light. This has colored my impression of his work ever since, which is a shame because his two-season sitcom Master of None was a masterstroke of sensitive and insightful writing about friendship, relationships, family, and institutional racism and sexism, while also being extremely funny. In this episode, penned by Ansari and Lena Waithe (who portrays Denise on the show), we follow Dev (Ansari) celebrating Thanksgiving over the course of many years with Denise’s family in a series of vignettes, from their young childhood to the present day. It gradually shows Denise coming to terms with her sexuality as a teenager (with Dev being the most supportive best friend one could hope for), and finally coming out as a lesbian to her mother (in a tremendous, nuanced performance by none other than Angela Bassett) in college. Her mother… does not take the news well. Over the next few years, as Denise brings a few girlfriends home for the holiday, her mother slowly grows to accept Denise for who she is, and ultimately, after a nice moment of connection with Denise’s by-all-accounts perfect girlfriend Michelle in the final depicted Thanksgiving story (taking place in 2017, the year this episode aired), she is able to honestly tell Denise that she is genuinely happy for her. This episode legitimately makes me tear up whenever I watch it – from the way Denise’s family so enthusiastically welcomes Dev to come to Thanksgiving every year as a surrogate brother to Denise, to Angela Bassett’s believable – but not villainous – pain at learning about her daughter’s sexuality, to her gradual realization that the most important thing is making sure Denise knows that she is loved no matter what, reaching out silently in the kitchen during the last vignette to hold Denise’s hand. Waithe and Ansari eventually won a Primetime Emmy Award for Outstanding Writing in a Comedy Series for this episode, which made Waithe the first African-American woman to ever win an Emmy in that category – a well-deserved accolade for a beautifully written, exquisitely acted story. 6. The Crown “Wolferton Splash” (Season 1 Episode 1, available to stream on Netflix) You know you weren’t going to get through a list of Reeya Banerjee favorites without a shout-out to Netflix’s brilliant series about the British Royal family. While this episode isn’t explicitly a Christmas story, it does depict the very last Christmas that King George VI, known to his family as “Bertie” (Jared Harris, in a heartbreaking performance) spent with his family. On Christmas Eve, Elizabeth (Claire Foy) and Prince Phillip (Matt Smith) agree to Bertie’s request to perform a five-month Commonwealth Tour in his stead due to his shaky health. Afterward, Bertie spends what by all accounts, looks like a lovely family gathering in their home in Sandringham, receiving a visit from some local neighbors for Christmas carols and a small gift of a paper crown from a young girl, which he puts on with genuine gratitude and more than a little sadness. Though he has not yet been told by his doctors that his lung disease is, in fact, terminal cancer, it is clear that he is subconsciously aware that he doesn’t have much time left. The holiday season often is a time for self-reflection, as we look at another year come and gone, and contemplate where we are, where we want to be, whether we have achieved what we have hoped to in the past twelve months, and how we want to approach the coming year. This episode of The Crown shows how this sort of existential reckoning is a universal experience, whether we are the King of the United Kingdom or a mere commoner. Also, Jared Harris is just wonderful and I love him. 5. The Bob Newhart Show, “Over the River and Through the Woods” (Season 4 Episode 11, available to stream on Amazon Prime) This is another hilarious show I discovered on Nick at Nite during my formative years when I was basically raised by the TV. The Bob Newhart Show, comedian Bob Newhart’s first foray into sitcoms, ran from 1972–1978, featuring the daily life of Chicago psychologist, Bob Hartley (Newhart), whose interactions with his wife, friends, patients, and colleagues lead to (as per sitcom tradition) wacky hijinks. What I love about this episode is that it takes the usual comic fodder for a holiday episode (the awkward family moments and stressful kitchen antics, as on display during the aforementioned Master of None and Happy Days episodes) and sends it offscreen to Seattle, where Bob’s wife, Emily (Suzanne Pleshette), goes to visit her family for Thanksgiving. Bob stays in Chicago, because one of his regular and more vulnerable patients, Mr. Carlin (Jack Reilly) doesn’t want to be alone during the holiday (thus providing Bob an easy out from spending time with his in-laws). This ultimately results in a seemingly regrettable gathering of randos at the Hartley apartment with Bob on Thanksgiving day. Mr. Carlin decides he doesn’t need a holiday therapy appointment after all, but crashes his therapist’s home anyway (which seems like an ethically questionable arrangement, but, hey, TV!). Bob’s friend Jerry (Peter Bonerz) invites himself over, wanting to watch college football and root for his alma mater, William & Mary, and Bob’s neighbor Howard (Bill Daily), usually a cheerful dude, wanders across the hall, sad because his son is spending the day with his ex-wife in Hawaii (“Howie’s in Maui”). The combination of these four men together on a day meant for heartwarming togetherness leads to a decidedly grim vibe fairly early on – and so they decide the solution, obviously, is to get very, very drunk on the jug of horrendous cider/vodka mixture that Jerry brings to drink during the football game. This leads to a brilliantly paced and performed series of running gags – layered knock-knock jokes, silly wordplay, lots and lots of slurry giggles, as they get more and more wasted – culminating in the amazing moment when Bob drunkenly attempts to call in an order of Chinese food for them all. Listening to Drunk Bob attempt to say the words “Moo Goo Gai Pan” coherently and insisting that his first name is actually “Doctor” and spelling it “Dur – D-R-period” never fails to give me the hiccups. And of course, the punchline: Emily comes home early from Seattle because she misses Bob, walks in on the drunken disaster, and then has to pay for the $93 Chinese food order when the delivery guy shows up. Comedy gold. You can clearly see the roots of the anarchic Cheers food fight and basically every single Friends Thanksgiving disaster in this episode. (But no, there will not be a single Friends episode on this list because I hate Friends #oldmillennialfail #sorrynotsorry.) 4. Mad Men, “The Doorway Parts 1 & 2” (Season 6 Episodes 1 & 2, available to stream on AMC+) Mad Men did a number of holiday episodes across its seven-season run on AMC, but this one, officially the first two episodes of season six, initially aired as one long episode in April 2013. Fittingly, we get a holiday two-fer here, as we first see Don Draper (Jon Hamm) and his wife Megan Calvet (Jessica Paré) spending Christmas in Hawaii (a work trip for Don, as Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce has landed Sheraton Hotels as an account), and then we see them back home in New York hosting a New Years’ Eve party in their apartment. Don is curiously silent for nearly the first 20 minutes of the show, while bubbly Megan babbles away her joy at spending the holiday in paradise, enthusiastically tanning on the beach while Don morosely reads Dante’s Inferno, jumping up at a Christmas Eve celebration to join the hotel’s entertainment staff for a traditional Hawaiian dance, and reveling in the glory of sex while completely high on pot she bought from a seedy surf shop. Don finally speaks when, in the middle of the night at the hotel bar while he can’t sleep, he runs into a young man (Patrick Mapel) on leave from the Army – fighting in Vietnam, of course – who is getting married at the hotel. The young man tries to get Don to speak about his time in Korea (which, as viewers know well by now, he – born Dick Whitman in abject poverty and raised in an abusive home – escaped by switching dog tags with the real Don Draper in Korea after an unexpected explosion and got to go home on real Don’s timeline, forcing him to live the rest of his life pretending to be someone else and constantly fearing discovery). Don is his usual reticent self when talking about his Army experience, but something about Pfc. Dinkins strikes a chord with him, and he agrees to give away the bride at the wedding in the morning. His interaction with Dinkins seems to stick with him when he returns to New York, leading him to be distant and distracted with the staff at work, and with Megan at home, who is dealing with the struggles of being a working actress and her newfound fame as a recurring character on a soap opera. Don gives a baffling presentation of his proposed ad campaign for Sheraton that is steeped in suicidal ideation, ruins Roger Sterling’s (John Slattery) mother’s funeral by turning up drunk and vomiting, and afterward, when his colleagues drag him home, Don berates his doorman Jonesy (Ray Abruzzo), who recently suffered a heart attack and technically died for a few minutes before being revived, begging him to confess what he actually saw during the time he was dead. The only person Don seems to genuinely enjoy spending time with is his new neighbor, Dr. Arnold Rosen (Brian Markinson), who saved Jonesy’s life, and is a heart surgeon hoping to be the first American doctor to perform a heart transplant. At a New Year’s gathering in the Draper apartment, we meet Arnold’s wife, Sylvia (Linda Cardellini), and we also get a little callback to the famous Thanksgiving Mad Men episode, “The Wheel” from Season 1 (which I almost included here instead, but then decided that might be too on the nose) when Megan insists Don show the guests photos from their Hawaiian vacation on their Kodak Carousel slide machine. After midnight, in the middle of a snowstorm, Arnold gets called to the ER for an emergency procedure, and Don accompanies him downstairs and asks him what it feels like to hold someone’s life in his hands. After Arnold leaves, Don goes back upstairs and – in a huge shocker after showrunner, Matthew Weiner desperately tried to shove the idea of Megan as the World’s Most Perfect Second Wife down viewer’s throats for the entirety of Season 5 (oh yes, I have some thoughts on this but that’s another article for another time) – it is revealed that Don has actually gone up to the Rosen’s apartment, because he has been having an affair with Sylvia for several months; this affair being presumably the first time he has cheated since marrying Megan, and also likely, a contributing factor to his being distracted at both work and home, not to mention his weird fixation on being Arnold’s best buddy. Similar to The Crown’s, “Wolferton Splash,” this is another holiday episode that explores the theme of how a year’s end can throw people into existential crisis, and indeed, it turns out that “The Doorway” is the beginning of a long downhill slide for Don across Season 6 as we see the extreme trauma of his childhood finally backing up on him, resulting in alcoholism, lashing out at his loved ones, ruining his relationships with his protegee/surrogate little sister Peggy Olson (Elisabeth Moss) and his daughter Sally (Kiernan Shipka), and completely tanking a very important client meeting with Hershey Chocolate, leading his SCDP partners to put him on an indefinite leave of absence at work. Cheerful stuff! 3. The West Wing, “Noël” (Season 2 Episode 10, available to stream on HBOMax - I know, Max) And speaking of trauma… in this lovely, moving episode of The West Wing from 20 years ago (I watched this when it first aired on NBC, which makes me feel so incredibly old), we see the aftereffects of the assassination attempt upon President Jed Bartlet (Martin Sheen) on Deputy White House Chief of Staff Josh Lyman (Bradley Whitford), who sustained a major injury during the shooting, requiring surgery and an extensive hospital stay. Now recovered and back at work, his colleagues grow concerned over his increasingly erratic behavior, including getting overly obsessed with the psychological history of an Air Force pilot who shared his birthday and committed suicide by crashing his plane into a mountain in New Mexico, shouting angrily at the President in the Oval Office during a meeting (a big no-no, as you might imagine), and arriving at work with his hand crudely self-bandaged and an obviously bullshit excuse that he cut it by putting down a glass too hard on a side table in his apartment. Chief of Staff Leo McGarry (John Spencer) calls in Stanley Keyworth (Adam Arkin) from the American Trauma Victims Association to spend the day with Josh to try to assess what is going on. Josh is initially very resistant to working with Stanley, and he spends half of the day snarking at him. Finally, after dragging out the sequence of events over the past three weeks that caused Josh’s colleagues to worry, Stanley gets him to admit that after his poor behavior towards President Bartlet in the meeting, he began to relive his experience of the shooting during the Congressional Christmas party, leading to a panic attack during a performance by Yo-Yo Ma (playing himself!) and then, feeling completely out of control once he got home, slamming his hand into a window and cutting himself badly on the broken glass. Stanley explains to Josh that he is experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – very common for victims of gun violence – and will refer him to a therapist who specializes in trauma. Josh doesn’t understand why the Christmas party set him off, and Stanley explains that he had been triggered three weeks prior – when Communications Director Toby Ziegler (Richard Schiff) brought in a brass quintet to play Christmas songs in the White House lobby for the holiday season. The sounds of the brass instruments subconsciously reminded Josh of police and ambulance sirens, and then as a result, all music began to subconsciously make him relive the attack. Josh wants to know if music will be a trigger for him for the rest of his life, and Stanley quickly waves that off. “Why?” Josh asks. “Because we get better,” Stanley tells him. I have loved this episode since I was a wee 15-year-old pinko commie West Wing-loving nerd at my hippie-ass high school in San Francisco, wishing that Jed Barlet was really our President instead of GWB, but this moment deeply resonated with my damaged 35-year-old self when I revisited it for this piece a few days ago. I was diagnosed with Complex PTSD last year due to childhood trauma, (hey Don Draper, give me a call, let’s commiserate!) and have been undergoing treatment for it ever since. It is hard to remember sometimes, when I’m in the thick of the ugly feelings, that things will get easier as long as I honor my responsibility to myself to do the hard work of healing, and hearing it said so plainly in this episode – “Because we get better” – made me choke up a little. The episode ends on a haunting note, as Josh’s assistant Donna (Janel Maloney) insists on taking him to the ER to properly treat the cut on his hand and they walk by some carol singers on the corner near the White House, Josh eyeing the group warily and swallowing hard, feeling the bitterness in his throat, the adrenaline of another panic attack on the way. Absolutely gutting. Whitford won a very well-deserved Emmy for Best Supporting Actor in a Primetime Drama in 2001 for his performance in this episode. It’s so good, you guys. 2. Six Feet Under, “Pilot” (Season 1 Episode 1, available to stream on Max, Netflix and Spectrum) People, Six Feet Under is my favorite television show of all time, and this is another episode that I watched when it first aired in June of 2001. It is also, like The Crown’s “Wolferton Splash,” an episode that takes place on Christmas, that is not explicitly a Christmas story. Nathaniel Fisher, Sr. (the sublime Richard Jenkins), owner of Fisher & Sons Funeral Home in Los Angeles, is killed when a bus hits him while driving his new hearse on Christmas Eve, while his wife Ruth, (the also sublime Frances Conroy) prepares dinner at home, in honor of their oldest son Nate, (Peter Krause, in the role he was born to play) who is coming to visit from Seattle for the holidays. Ruth gets the call about the accident as she is removing the pot roast from her oven, causing her to fling it to the ground, and to also smash a number of other things in the kitchen in her shock and disbelief. “The hearse is totaled, your father is dead, and my pot roast is ruined,” she says numbly when middle son David (pre-Dexter Michael C. Hall, in what I think is the best performance of his career because Dexter fucking sucked #sorrynotsorry) comes to check on the ruckus. Nate finds out about his father’s death after a random sexual encounter with Brenda Chenowith (Rachel Griffiths), a woman he meets on the plane from Seattle. Brenda drives him to the morgue to meet his mother and younger sister Claire (Lauren Ambrose, with whom college-age-Reeya identified SO MUCH in this role), who had been talked into taking a hit of crystal meth (ok I didn’t identify with that part) at a party by her bad-news-boyfriend, minutes before David called to tell her about their father’s death. Chaos abounds over the next few days as Claire comes down from the crystal, Ruth confesses to her sons that she has been having an affair with her hairdresser, and is terrified that Nathaniel now knows all in the afterlife, David tries to conceal his relationship with police officer Keith Charles, (Mathew St. Patrick) who desperately wants to be there for his closeted boyfriend in his grief, and Nate, the prodigal son who fled Los Angeles and the family business due to his crippling fear of death, proceeds to criticize and muck up the propriety of Nathaniel’s funeral by rolling his eyes at the formality of the whole occasion, insisting that they not conceal their wretched grief over Nathaniel's death. This causes considerable resentment from David, who was essentially obligated to join his (now-late) father in running the funeral home at the expense of his law school dreams because of Nate’s abrupt departure 15 years ago, leading the two brothers to have a huge argument in the cemetery about brotherly duty, funeral protocol, facing the reality of death and mortality, and who really has earned the right to be the family anchor now that Nathaniel has passed away. The episode ends with a moment that proves to be pivotal for the Fishers when Ruth asks Nate if he could delay his return to Seattle for a while to stay and be a source of support for her in her grief. He reluctantly acquiesces, and then what was supposed to be a short delay at home, turns into five years, during which time Nate’s incessant fear of his own mortality, irresponsible behavior at work (he eventually becomes a funeral director to help David), and in his personal life, and his constant drama-mongering almost destroys the whole family… and Brenda (who he eventually marries), too. This show as a whole is absolutely fucking spectacular, as a prolonged mediation on the nature of grief, an exploration of the ways to live a meaningful life, a realistic depiction of a long-term gay couple (years ahead of its time), sensitive and accurate portrayals of mental health issues as seen through the stories of Brenda’s brother Billy (Jeremy Sisto, in a career-best performance) who has bipolar disorder, and Ruth’s second husband George Sibley (the always wonderful James Cromwell) who suffers from psychotic depression, and just plain heart-wrenching, witty, and gorgeous writing. The pilot absolutely brims with the exceptional potential that this show had and it successfully delivered over five seasons, and I dare you not to cry when Nate goes running downtown after agreeing to stay in LA and sees a vision of his father boarding a bus similar to the one that killed him, waving goodbye with a sad smile through the window. If you have never watched Six Feet Under, consider this pilot, and this exceptional drama series, to be my holiday present to you. 1. Seinfeld, “The Strike” (Season 9 Episode 10, available to stream on Netflix) Yes, this episode is technically called “The Strike,” but most of you know it as… the Festivus episode. Yet another one that I watched as it originally aired in December of 1997 (12-year-old Reeya was a bonafide obsessive Seinfeld nut), this is an absolute classic from a timeless sitcom, a brilliantly structured plot, and as far as I am concerned, the gold standard of holiday television. Talk about wacky hijinks! There are so many fun things that happen in his episode – an appearance from Tim Whatley, DDS (an impossibly young, pre-Walter White Bryan Cranston), George’s (Jason Alexander) fake charity The Human Fund: Money For People, Kramer (Michael Richards) going back to work at H&H Bagels after being on strike for 12 years, Elaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) going to extreme lengths to retrieve a punch card for Atomic Sub that she wrote a fake number on to give to a guy she didn’t want to date, all so that she can win her free (admittedly gross) sub, and Jerry (Jerry Seinfeld) yet again, dumping a perfectly lovely girlfriend for a dumb reason (this time: she looks very unattractive in badly-lit rooms). But really what it all comes down to is Festivus: the holiday that takes place every December 23rd, invented by George’s father Frank, (Jerry Stiller) due to his disgust for the commercialism of Christmas. And there’s no better way to sum up the Festivus origin story than through Frank’s own words: Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way… out of that, a new holiday was born. A Festivus, for the rest of us! Instead of a tree, there is a Festivus Pole (aluminum, no decorations because Frank finds tinsel distracting). Instead of warm-hearted cheer around a dinner table, there is the Airing of Grievances (“I’ve got a lot of problems with you people and now you’re gonna hear about it!”). Instead of presents, there are the Feats of Strength, and you can imagine what that might look like. And if you have not seen this episode yet, what the hell are you waiting for? Go watch it now. Otherwise, come December 23, I will air my grievances, and you ignoring my suggestion to revel in the glory of this most excellent holiday episode ever created will be included. Happy holidays, y’all. Let’s all hope the new year is a little easier on us. Reeya Banerjee Reeya is a Hudson Valley-based musician and writer. In her other life, she works as a hospitality finance associate, enjoys watching Law & Order SVU reruns while eating gummy bears, and has a film degree from Vassar College that she does not use. She can frequently be found in various coffee shops and bars drinking IPAs while reading pop culture news on her phone.

Bernadette and Mike return the magical world of Toni Collette's filmography, catching up on her work from the past couple years. Films and projects discussed include Nightmare Alley, Pieces of Her and The Staircase. Listen over on our Patreon Page.

Mike Burdge and Tim Irwin start off a new Overdrinkers mini-series covering the comic book adaptations of the 90s that were directly inspired by the tone and success of Batman (1989). First up, it’s Sam Rami’s notoriously awesome, Darkman (1990), Warren Beatty’s batshit bananas Dick Tracy (1990) and Joe Johnston’s inarguably fun, The Rocketeer (1991). Along the way, they discuss the changes in comic book and superhero adaptation fare, as well as the successes and failures of the genre over the past 30+ years. Listen on…. Overdrinkers Cocktail: The Rocke-Who? 2 oz Floral Gin 1/2 oz Vodka 1/2 oz Luxardo Maraschino 1/4 oz Orange Curaçao 3/4 oz Lemon Juice Combine all ingredients with ice and shake well. Strain into rocks or coup glass, serve neat or on the rocks.

Diana’s Favorite Films from 2022 I watched so many films during 2021 that I allowed myself to write a “Top 20” list and then some. For 2022, I decided to reign it in a bit and go back to a “Top 10” format…with a couple of very special series honorable mentions. The year 2022 had a fantastic wealth of entertaining films and there are several more that would be included if I extended this list, but here are ten of my personal favorite films from the past year that I adamantly recommend watching if you have not done so already. Enjoy. Honorable Mentions: Heartstopper (Available on Netflix) After watching Heartstopper, I couldn’t help but think about how if there had only been something like it available to read or watch when I was a teenager just how much better things might have felt. Showing teenagers - gay, straight, lesbian, bi, trans - all able to interact, find love, and be loved, is huge. The characters do not immediately figure everything out about themselves or their sexuality, they struggle with it, but at the same time, the show allows for hope. It allows for joy. It’s fucking fantastic to watch. It makes me think back to how little Queer content I was exposed to when I was the same age as the show’s characters (15-16) and how confusing and terrifying everything was at the time. Knowing that something like Heartstopper exists for people to watch today is amazing. Reservation Dogs - Season 2 (Available on FX / Hulu) I loved the first season of Reservation Dogs and with each episode of Season Two, the show just gets BETTER AND BETTER. I don’t think there is another show like this on television right now. I recommend it to anyone and everyone I know that hasn’t seen it yet because I firmly believe that there is something for everyone on this show, no matter your background or interests. The show’s lead cast of four friends - Elora Danan, Bear, Cheese, and Willie Jack - as well as some of the adults, are further fleshed out with standalone episodes this season (shoutouts to Sarah Podemski as Bear’s mom, Rita, and Zahn McClarnon as Big) and there are plenty of new guests. Sterlin Harjo’s show displays the culture of living on the rez but isn’t afraid to poke fun at itself at the same time. It also deals with grief realistically, showing that it takes a long time to mourn, as well as depicting a common desire to leave home and come back both at the same time. 10) Benediction Director Terence Davies examines the life of British poet Siegfried Sassoon and how he was affected by WWI, tragedy, and some destructive personal relationships, shaping him to become both a prolific poet and an outspoken pacifist. Sassoon was homosexual during a time when it was still illegal; he is played by Scottish actor Jack Lowden (Slow Horses, Dunkirk). Lowden’s thoughtful, anguished yet charismatic portrayal of Siegfried is what makes Benediction something truly special to watch. It is understated, yet one of the more heartbreaking performances I watched this past year. For more on this film, check out my full review here. 9) After Yang While Colin Farrell was fantastic in The Banshees of Inisherin it was his melancholy and introspective performance as Jake in 2022’s After Yang that stayed with me for much longer. Justin H. Min is already a fan favorite from The Umbrella Academy but seeing him portray Yang, an A.I. with more humanity than most of his human peers was at times devastating. Haley Lu Richardson is wonderful as the only one who views Yang as a “real person.” When Yang mysteriously stops working one day, his little “sister” Mika is understandably inconsolable, but as the film progresses, we realize how many other characters Yang’s existence has affected. P.S., it has one of the best opening title sequences of any film I have ever seen. 8) RRR RRR was unbelievable. I loved it. It was a ridiculous spectacle with amazing charisma between its two leads. I usually do not love musicals, but the music and dancing scenes were just as engaging as the film’s epic action sequences. I wish I could have seen this in a packed theater instead of at home, but that’s my only complaint. 7) Hit the Road I didn’t know much about Hit the Road beforehand, only that it was less benign than the simple premise of a family road trip. Writer/Director Panah Panahi’s film centers around a family (mom, dad, and two brothers) driving across the desert outside Tehran for an unknown purpose. Twenty-something big brother (Amin Simiar) drives with his fretting mother (Pantea Panahiha) up front, while six-year-old little brother (Rayan Sarlak) rides in the back with his deadpan father (Mohammad Hassan Madjooni) and their sick dog, Jessy. The parents make up various stories for their young son about where and why his big brother is leaving the country in such a hurry. The reality of the story is distressing, but Panahi evokes humor and pathos throughout, right up until the film’s surprising climax. The entire cast is fantastic but the little brother steals the show. 6) Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio The stop-motion animation of GDT’s Pinocchio is amazing. The film feels like a del Toro film through and through with its commentary on organized religion, fascism, and “being different.” I sobbed during the final act. Then Mike Burdge immediately rewound it and I sobbed harder as we watched the last 15 minutes of the movie again. Ciao Papa. 5) Barbarian Barbarian was a wild ride. It was nothing like I expected and I am not normally a lover of the horror genre. It is hilarious and extremely compelling, but at the same time, it is disturbing and extremely gross. I loved it. The less you know going into watching it the better. 4) Top Gun: Maverick This was one of the best theater-going experiences I had in 2022. At one point while watching, I turned around to see mostly middle-aged “kids” with their dads hooting and hollering, fist-pumping, and cheering. It was sensational. Grown-ass men were crying. It was glorious. The action doesn’t disappoint. The age-appropriate romance does not disappoint. Tom Cruise does not disappoint. See it on as big a screen as possible. 3) Decision to Leave Park Chan-wook’s latest movie is a gorgeous noir mood piece. It is beautiful. I didn’t want it to end. Park Hae-il plays a detective investigating the death of an affluent climbing enthusiast who “fell” to his demise. Tang Wei is excellent as the woman suspected of murdering her husband. In the second half of the film, the detective is forced to rethink every decision he made in the first half, but more importantly, he must consider whether or not he even cares if the suspect is guilty. 2) Everything Everywhere All At Once This movie made me laugh so hard in the theater, and yet by the end, I was just sitting quietly, totally emotionally spent in the best way possible. It has been just as good (if not better) upon each rewatch. Stephanie Hsu will break your heart and Ke Huy Quan mends it and fills it back up with love. Jamie Lee Curtis and Michelle Yeoh are a couple for the ages. Also, I need a feature-length “Raccacoonie” film starring Harry Shum Jr. immediately. Get on it, Daniels. 1) Aftersun This is the big one. The slow burn. But boy does it burn. Charlotte Wells creates a time capsule of a film where 11-year-old Sophie (Frankie Corio) and her young dad Calum (Paul Mescal) are on vacation in Turkey in the late 1990s. We eventually get flashes of Sophie years later when she is about the same age as her dad was during that trip. The use of video camcorder recordings throughout the film help capture how both Sophie and Calum view the world around them and each other. I don’t want to give anything else away if you haven't yet seen this spectacular film, but watching Mescal dance gave me major Call Me By Your Name déjà vu. I didn’t think the film would wreck me so much upon a second watch but it did (and then some). Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching TV and movies, Diana likes plants, the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school dropout. You can follow her on Instagram @dldimuro and Twitter @DianaDiMuro

Bern’s Favorite Films of 2022 This past year was a capital “B” big year. The general public, for better or worse, decided life would truly resume, which meant all kinds of exciting things: more travel, more family, more friends…and more movies. Gone were the hours you could spend catching up on all the content you may have missed over the course of your lifetime. But while those hours were fleeting, streamers and theaters began to fill with a vast array of new stories, more diverse than ever before. What made it more difficult, and I’ll speak from personal experience, is that all of those plans that had been put on hold over the past few years also resumed, creating an unavoidable vacuum where there simply weren’t enough hours in the day. Despite all that, I finally got around to planning a wedding, started my own business, ran a half-marathon, and still managed to catch a good few handfuls of the best films 2022 had to offer. Now, I definitely did not match my cinematic inhalation of previous years, which was to be expected in the chaos of last year. But what did become unexpected, even to me, is that in this smaller collection of films (although, 85+ films ain’t nothing), I couldn’t bring myself to cut this “top 10” list to anything shorter than 15 films. I’m usually a sucker for rules, even when they’re self-imposed, but as the past month closed, I realized I was in a regulation conundrum. So, this list grew to house more top films than any one of my lists that have come before. Each of the forthcoming films feels integral to the structure of this collection, and by extension, the structure of who I was in 2022. This past year was grand, and so is this list. Life resumed. 15) Damian Chazelle’s Babylon As an avid La La Land lover (and apologist, when necessary), Damian Chazelle always piques my interest, and he did not disappoint with Babylon. Set on the backdrop of so many films that have come before (even Chazelle’s own), Chazelle presents the familiar story of how the film industry transitioned from silent pictures to the talkies. What could have easily come across as a repetitious tale is made new by Chazelle’s labyrinthian story structure and the performances by Margot Robbie, Brad Pitt, and relative newcomer Diego Calva. (Bonus points for yet another wonderful turn by the captivating Jovan Adepo for all you Leftovers/Watchmen fans.) Babylon carries the audience, ultimately, through a quarter of a century of the belly of the industry beast and begs the question: is the love of cinema worth it? In Babylon’s case, the answer is always yes. 14) David Cronenberg’s Crimes of the Future Similarly themed to Babylon in the sense of sacrificing for one's art, Crimes of the Future questions how the human race will evolve both physically and creatively as we reach new heights of depravity and backdoor consumerism. Painted in tones of brown and black, Crimes of the Future juxtaposes the living, breathing Earth against its inhabitants' dismissal of nature, constantly striving for the next new manufactured oddity. Led by the ever-compelling Viggo Mortensen, Léa Seydoux, and Kristen Stewart, Crimes is more mood than anything, but it's an intelligent, sentient mood that makes you question the very nature of our own reality. 13) Richard Linklater’s Apollo 10 ½: A Space Age Childhood Speaking of realities, have you ever been so deeply affected by a historical event in your childhood that your memory of said event begins to warp with your own involvement? In Apollo 10 ½, Richard Linklater revisits his own memories as a child raised in the Houston area during the Apollo 11 Moon landing. The events of Apollo 10 ½ aren’t necessarily 100% autobiographical, but Linklater’s goal is to capture that feeling of childhood where life is ahead of you, with 100% possibility at your fingertips, just before you’re grounded by adult responsibilities and sensibilities. Animated through Linklater’s stylistic rotoscoping, Apollo 10 ½ looks absolutely beautiful and begs the audience to revisit their own childhoods, in whichever style they see fit. (For more on my thoughts on Apollo 10 ½: A Space Age Childhood, read my review here.) 12) Brett Morgen’s Moonage Daydream “Don’t fake it, baby, lay the real thing on me/ The church of man, love, is such a holy place to be/ Make me, baby, make me know you really care/ Make me jump into the air// Keep your ‘lectric eye on me, babe/ Put your ray gun to my head/ Press your space face close to mine, love/ Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah” (“Moonage Daydream” David Bowie) For the 140 minutes spent in Morgen’s 2022 documentary, Moonage Daydream, one is able to press their space face as close as possible to the space invader that was David Bowie. A documentary both intimate and otherworldly, Morgen’s use of repetitious sight and sound contextualizes Bowie’s artistic journey through this world while also honoring his alien nature. An artist that never seemed quite human, Bowie can tend to be an enigma, but Morgen manages to get a few steps closer with his abstract approach to his subject. This is one worth seeing for fans of music and film alike. (Again, to read more of my appreciation for this doc, check out my review here.) 11) Noah Baumbach’s White Noise Something that always makes a film more enjoyable for me is when my husband, Heath, has a damn good time watching it, and White Noise is a damn good time. Not having read the Don DeLillo 1985 novel on which the film is based, the trailer does well to not spoil the journey you’ll go on while watching Adam Driver, Greta Gerwig, and Don Cheadle navigate a mid-80’s, midwest, post-intellectualism mecca. As to not delve too far into White Noise’s many exciting chapters, let the film take you on a journey of purpose, despair, and community: the story promises we all have more in common than we think. (Paired with a delightful score by Danny Elfman, also make sure to stick around for LCD Soundsystem’s “New Body Rhumba” ending credits: the best ending credits of the year.) 10) Kogonada’s After Yang On the flip side, easily housing the best opening credits of the year, the science-fiction driven After Yang opens with a diegetic voiceover: “Welcome, families of four, to our monthly dance-off.” The families, all different characters from the film, face the camera in their various homes, and proceed to compete in said dance-off as long as they don’t miss any dance moves, hoping to not get eliminated. At the end of this segment, Yang (the fourth member of the family, a robotic child adopted by the main couple to keep their other, younger adopted child company) suffers a malfunction, sending this family of four into a state of unrest. After Yang is a meditation on identity, similar to Kogonada’s previous film, Columbus. (I’m from Indiana, and my sister currently lives in Columbus, so Kogonada’s complicated love letter to the architectural city holds a special place in my heart.) The science-fiction aspect takes a back seat, however, and is but a lens through which to examine cultural, familial, and legacy ties. It’s the first of three Colin Farrell performances appreciated in this list (as he plays the patriarch, Jake), but it’s no less special than the other two. 09) Matt Reeves’ The Batman I’m of the mind that there’s really not a bad Batman movie in the bunch (save for the Ben Affleck-helmed Batman films, as I’ve never seen any of his entries, and most likely never will). But outside of those, every flavor of Batman can scratch a different itch. Matt Reeves’ The Batman manages to scratch ‘em all. Gadgetry, action, mystery, comedy, and hints of romance; this film has style in spades. Stepping into the cowl for the first time, Robert Pattinson toes the line between depression and activism in a way no other Batman has in the past, using a juxtaposition that truly sends home the message that this bat is truly just a fucked up kid, living in a fucked up place, with more money than he knows what to do with. All of this is only magnified by Reeves taking that character development and sticking him in, quite possibly, the coolest interpretation of Gotham City to ever be realized. Marking the second appearance of Colin Farrell on this list, as the Penguin, Pattinson is also joined by an inquisitive Jeffrey Wright as Detective Gordon, and an enigmatic Paul Dano as a contemporary Riddler (just to name a few), all of which take this film to another level. Just as with Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy, I’m extremely excited to see what Reeves has in store for his Bat franchise. 08) Phil Tippett’s Mad God Coming in late to the Mad God cult is better than never. Originally debuting in 2021 (but going wide in 2022), some of my colleagues (the brothers Kolodjieski) included this film on their respective 2021 lists, and they were absolutely correct in doing so. Famed animator, Phil Tippett, took 30 years to work on Mad God, giving the film a quality of existing outside of space and time. Not necessarily following a linear path, the audience is treated to a series of vignettes where you see various characters toiling in hellish, visceral landscapes leading to God knows what. As a whole, the story is a complex and devastating nightmare, but the ride is so very rewarding. Not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for everyone, Mad God rewards those who are interested with a deeper appreciation for all of Tippett’s work before, whether that be in films like Star Wars or his visual effects in the Twilight franchise. This is God-tier work. 07) Goran Stolevski’s You Won’t Be Alone Not a week after publishing my list of favorite 2021 films, I had the pleasure of catching You Won’t Be Alone as one of my virtual Sundance screenings. I had a feeling then (which may have become a self-fulfilling prophecy) that it would stay the distance to end up on this list, and I was right. YWBA tells the tale of a young Macedonian girl who is transformed into a witch and is forced to reconcile her stolen youth with her newfound powers, all the while trying to find her place in the world. Nevena, the young witch, slowly learns the rules of her new identity through trial and error while Maria, the old witch, grows more and more envious of Nevena’s curiosity and trusting nature of humanity. A witch story told in an all new way, YWBA is a captivating exploration of nature vs. nurture. If thought-provoking, subtle horror is your bag, this film is for you. (For a brief write-up on this and other Sundance films from 2022, check out my article.) 06) Guillermo del Toro’s Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio (had to) Never a stranger to stories about what it means to be worthy of love and grace, Guillermo del Toro has done it again with his masterpiece, Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio. Not to be confused with the myriad of Pinocchio tales told last year (especially my second favorite, the Pauly Shore clusterfuck, Pinocchio: A True Story), GdT’s Pinocchio takes the story you’re most likely familiar with but enriches nearly every aspect with more pathos and worldbuilding…which ultimately makes it a more “believable” story. All versions of the Pinocchio story are morality tales, but most of them seem to be plagued by the “because I said so” parental lesson rather than an actual instructional on why truth, knowledge, compassion, and integrity are all virtues to aspire to. And on top of the beautiful story, the film is also stunning. Similarly to Mad God, del Toro has been working on his Pinocchio for over a decade, and you can absolutely feel the love for its story in every frame. Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, ever so kindly, renders all other Pinocchio tales obsolete. INTERMISSION: Before diving into the top five slots, I first want to shout out some amazing dual (and in some cases, trial(?)) performances from last year that aren’t seeing recognition on this list elsewhere: Aubrey Plaza in Emily the Criminal, The White Lotus and Spin Me Round, Daisy Edgar Jones in Fresh and Under the Banner of Heaven, Alexander Skarsgård in The Northman and Atlanta, Ethan Hawke in The Black Phone, The Northman, and Moon Knight, and Mia Goth in X and Pearl. But more than anything, I want to applaud Causeway, Bullet Train, and Atlanta’s Brian Tyree Henry, and The Menu and The Whale’s Hong Chau on their incredible turns. These films may not have made the list, but these two performers were some of my favorites of the year. 05) S. S. Rajamouli’s RRR Taking an imagined friendship between two real-life Indian revolutionaries, RRR provides *almost* the most fun you could have while watching a film in 2022. The two leads, Ram Charan as Alluri Sitarama Raju and N. T. Rama Rao Jr. as Komaram Bheem, are quite possibly (and I say this upon deep reflection) the two coolest male protagonists I’ve ever seen on screen together. Everything they’re asked to do in this film is awesome, and I know that doesn’t sound like an intellectually critical analysis of this film, but it’s undeniable: RRR is just a dope time. It also happens to be a great semi-historical lesson into just how terrible the British rule in India was, which is something that is obviously known but isn’t something that gets publicity as often as it probably should. Additionally, if it weren’t for White Noise, I would be saying that this is the coolest closing credits of 2022. RRR definitely follows through on the hype and I was pleased to see just how many Americans got behind this revolution as well. 04) Jordan Peele’s NOPE My admiration for NOPE grows with every passing day while Jordan Peele continues to deliver on his dissection of what it means to be Black in America. This time, reclaiming the Western genre, Daniel Kaluuya’s Otis Haywood Jr. and Keke Palmer’s Emerald Haywood (as OJ and Em, respectively) are seeking to claim the American gold they’re owed; in this case, the gold is “the impossible shot” of the mysterious UFO that has been devastating their western homestead. A film historian’s paradise, NOPE uses classic Western iconography and recontextualizes it for the modern age, resulting in a new Western classic. Peele literally took the reins and managed to make a science fiction film and a Western film (of which both can sometimes feel dated over time) feel timeless. (If you’d like to listen to Robby Anderson and me geek out about NOPE, check out this Hot Take.) 03) Jane Shoenbrun’s We’re All Going to the World’s Fair Time will tell if Shoenbrun’s debut, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, holds strong at number three in years to come, but for now, I can’t imagine it anywhere else. What was captivating to me about this indie “horror” is how dynamic and fresh it felt while also feeling unsettlingly familiar. As mentioned above, I grew up in a rural Indiana town, and as such, I’m familiar with the painful ache of wanting something, anything more than your isolating circumstances. Not to say that that isn’t a universal feeling of youth, but WAGttWF taps into a very specific and dangerous type of yearning, one in which the seeker opens themselves up to be susceptible to anything…or do they? In WAGttWF, protagonist Casey joins the “World’s Fair” challenge, which is a MMORPG where participants join the challenge by performing a video ritual and subsequently report any “symptoms” from joining. These symptoms can be anything, as you can make the game as real or as fake as you like. But are any of these symptoms actually real? Or are they all in the heads of the participants? Is this an artistic collaboration, or is it possibly a traumatic and dangerous hazing ritual that preys on those trapped in their loneliness? Told mostly through Casey’s video diary entries, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair understands those deep, dark, creepypasta-esque corners of the internet like the back of its hand. If you’ve lived in those corners, this one’s for you. 02) Daniels’ Everything Everywhere All At Once Out of all the films on this list, I’m thankful to say that Everything Everywhere All At Once needs the shortest write-up. If you haven’t heard of the magical healing powers of EEAAO at this point, you must have been living under a rock. (*This is the most fun you could have in a cinema all year.) EEAAO has everything you could ever want in a film, and so so so much heart and sweetness that it feels like it might just give you a heart attack. It’s perfect. Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan, Stephanie Hsu, and Jamie Lee Curtis (special dual shoutout for Halloween Ends!), under the tutelage of Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, have created characters that will never not be referenced for both their comedy and instruction on how to better understand your fellow man, whether that be your family…or your tax lady. EEAAO insinuates that every timeline in the metaverse holds relevance and importance, but we should all consider ourselves lucky to be living in the best one: the one where this film exists. 01) Martin McDonagh’s The Banshees of Inisherin Immediately following seeing The Banshees of Inisherin, I remarked that it was my favorite film of the year so far, and here we still are. Martin McDonagh has struck again, but this time I think he’s at his all-time best, alongside an all-time lights-out Colin Farrell performance as well (third win here on this list for Mr. Farrell, and with Barry Keoghan along for this ride as well - I see you there, ya Joker). Add in the reunion with Brendan Gleeson, an emotional connection with Kerry Condon, and an amazing ensemble cast and you’ve got yourself a perfect film there, you do. My favorites of the year always spark an emotional connection with me, and I know I speak frequently of “As a…” and “From my experience…” but this type of story resonates with me on a deeper level, as it goes straight to the genetics of my origin. I might not be super close to my Irish heritage, but my surname and my Catholicism speak volumes for how much I identify with growing up within religion and beginning to question your place in the world, which is happening in a very disquieting way here for Farrell’s Pádraic and Gleeson’s Colm. Banshees is doubly pleasing for its versatility in how its story is read: do these characters exist in the real world or is there something otherworldly about Inisherin and its inhabitants? No matter, it’s all beans when it comes to just how deep the knife goes separating Pádraic’s and Colm’s friendship. Told with a dry wit and hilarity that can only be described as Irish, but still maintaining the reverence and emotional heft that comes with deeply loving your brethren, Banshees is just the type of comedy to warm your heart on a cold winter’s night. (If you need extra convincin’, you can listen to a riveting discussion on the film here.) And so it goes dear reader, another list down, with another already in the works. Cinema sleeps for no man, and a pleasant 2023 to you and yours. Life resumes. Bernadette Gorman-White Managing Editor Bernadette graduated from DePauw University in 2011 with a Film Studies degree she’s not currently using. She constantly consumes television, film, and all things pop culture and will never be full. She doesn’t tweet much, but give her a follow @BeaGorman and see if that changes.

BaeBae’s Top 10 of 2022 I think we’re afraid to be positive. Or maybe we’re afraid that happiness will reveal our vulnerabilities. Maybe we’re afraid that if we grant ourselves a sigh of relief and say “it's all going to work out,” we etch a prophecy of failure into some sacred slab. I shouldn’t say “we.” You might be very good at being positive. A cute little positive guy. That’s what you are. *boop* This year I’m trying something different. I want to read these opening paragraphs twelve months from now and be like, “Damn, that was a happy little positive guy, and he really called his shot.” My intro last year lamented on feeling burnt out like I was spinning my tires and had accomplished very little with my craft. Throughout 2022, I actually tried to change that. I was proactive: I made a resume. I applied for jobs. I took jobs that fell through and had my biggest accomplishment in years – I got paid to write. How about that! I have 2023 in my sights. It took me a long time to realize that the mud I was spinning my tires in was made up of all the gross feelings I’d let myself sink into. No more! Big things are ahead for me, I can feel it, and if in a year I look back at this little annual journal entry and think, “Damn, I was wrong lol,” at least I’ll know it wasn’t for lack of trying. Anyway, that’s enough of that. My name is Robby Anderson (my friends call me BaeBae). I’m head of podcasting for Story Screen, and this isn’t a list of the best movies of the year, this is a list of my favorite movies of the year. Alright, let’s get into it. 10. Prey It’s been 35 years since Predator was released and after four sequels and two spin-offs, we finally figured out what these movies need to be: a period piece. Prey on its own is a rock and roll time. It’s thrilling and its characters are extremely likable (Amber Midthunder for President), but you can’t help but imagine, “what’s next?” Let’s drop the Predator in ancient Egypt! Let’s see him duel a samurai! Let’s see him navigate a future cyberpunk dystopia! Or let’s add him to a genre. Let Benoit Blanc try and solve the mystery of what infernal creature is hunting the members of this dinner party one by one. If movies are soup, the Predator can be the best ingredient. Prey could’ve gotten away with just “insert Predator here,” but it goes far beyond that. The Comanche tribe depicted in the film is the perfect juxtaposition to the Predator. Our heroes hunt for survival, out of necessity, and they respect their prey. The Predator is just a big game hunter with advanced tech, like a rich piece of shit hunting elephants. The film avoids the mistakes of the entries before it. This isn’t a movie obsessed with Predator lore or motivations. He’s a big, powerful, bad guy and you want to see him get taken down. There’s truly not an ounce of fat to be found on this one and I hope director Dan Trachtenberg is on the hunt for what narrative the Predator lands on next. 9. Puss in Boots: The Last Wish If you’re chronically online this may not come as a surprise to you, but if you’re a normal person who stays out of annoying film nerd social media spaces then boy howdy let me tell you something: this movie fucks. Earlier this year we covered all of the Shrek movies in a special podcast we affectionately titled: Getting Swamped AKA Peeling the Onion. It’s absolutely worth a listen, BUT generally, my feelings on the Shrek franchise are: Shrek: Masterpiece Shrek 2: A great time Shrek the Third: Boring as absolute shit Shrek 4ever After: Shockingly good We talked about maybe covering the original Puss in Boots movie at a later date, but it wasn’t necessarily on the docket. Then… the internet started whispering, and the reviews for Puss in Boots: The Last Wish started coming in. The quote I kept seeing in reviews that really blew my mind was: “This is the Shrek franchise’s Logan.” You know, Logan, the R-rated superhero movie that acts as a swan song to Hugh Jackman’s nearly twenty-year run as Wolverine. Now that I’ve seen the film, it does have big Logan energy. But where that film felt like the spiritual closing of a franchise, this actually feels more like a refresh button. I dare not give any story beats away, even the trailer for this children’s movie is as misleading as a Marvel movie trailer desperately trying to hide its spoilers. Instead, what I’ll say is that the film looks incredible. We continue to see the ripple effects from the splash that Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse made in the world of animation. Last Wish uses a fusion of 2D and 3D animation techniques to create what is easily one of the best pieces of animated fare this year. The hyper-stylized look of the film lets the franchise discard its clunky, faux-realistic visual roots and embraces a look it’s always deserved. It looks like a fairytale. Also, there’s action, a lot of it, and it’s great. Clearly, the animators took many inspirations, but iconic anime action sequences and deep-cut movie references came as a complete surprise to me. I cried three times during Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, which is three more times than I cried during The Whale. This is mostly because I am a weirdo, but also because I didn’t realize this was the movie I always wanted. I grew up with Shrek. It’s the first movie my family had on DVD. We used the cassette to get my baby brother to fall asleep during long car rides. It’s a movie I didn’t know meant so much to me and now we got a sequel that has a level of heart and artistic merit I never thought I’d see in the franchise. If you have a kid and are looking to see a flick in the theaters, it’s a no-brainer. Even if you are sans child and have a soft spot for a gentle green giant and his friends, I guarantee there’s a lot here for you. Also, I should mention the voice cast is crazy and the movie is hilarious. 8. AmbuLAnce I’ve never been a Michael Bay guy. Pretty sure the first Michael Bay movie I saw was The Island and the last Michael Bay movie I saw was Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen. I knew I was missing out on a lot of his newer work, and I still haven’t seen Bad Boys, The Rock, Armageddon, Pain & Gain, or Transformers: The Last Knight. But I have seen AmbuLAnce and that movie rules. A cliché phrase you see a lot when reading film reviews is “breakneck pacing.” I’m convinced this movie has “decapitated head pacing” or “snorted all the cocaine in the world pacing.” The biggest hero of the movie is drones. It’s crazy. No movie has done what this movie has with drones. Whether they’re weaving in and out of a high-speed car chase, dive bombing after a long ascent up a skyscraper, or encircling two performers talking; the cinematography is absolutely electric. The movie also oozes charisma, a trait that I feel like all memorable action movies need and few have had since the genre's height in the 90s. The giant, pulsating, bleeding heart of this movie comes from the performances of our three lead actors. Jake Gyllenhaal is using all of his years of being a weirdo to play one of the greatest eccentrics to grace the silver screen. Yahya Abdul-Mateen plays a veteran screwed over by the American healthcare system, and he’s the most likable guy ever. It’s like he was created in a lab that was trying to produce likable guys and then they created Yahya and were like “Shut it down, we’re done, we did it, it’s over!” And finally Eiza González, a character who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and beautifully plays this film’s moral compass, guiding all things cinema to its exciting conclusion. AmbuLAnce is a Bay movie that convinced me that I need to run out and see more Bay movies. Still, I imagine this particular entry in his explosion-filled catalog will stay with me the longest. (I’m capitalizing the LA in Ambulance because the movie takes place in Los Angeles) 7. The Northman Radicalize me, daddy. I need more weird art movie directors to direct action movies. I need it. I want Luca Guadagnino to make a movie about robots fighting space wars. I want Trey Edward Shultz to make a pirate epic. I want Yorgos Lanthimos to make a buddy cop movie. I want Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert to make a Matrix parody exploring the multiverse and the complex relationship between a mother and daughter. Wait a minute… What I’m trying to say is The Northman isn’t just a Nordic action movie, and that’s largely because of who’s behind the camera. Director Robert Eggers’ previous films, The VVitch and The Lighthouse help inform The Northman’s most creative decisions. The film handles mysticism with grace and ambiguity, without making the prime thought experiment of the film: “Did this really happen?” Every frame in the film is perfect. Whether it’s the hulking figure of Alexander Skarsgård in a doorway looking across a lush Icelandic vista, or a valkyrie riding across the cosmos to Vahalla; every single moment is gorgeous. This is also Eggers’ most accessible movie. It’s not two sailors screaming and farting at each other in black and white. It’s kinda just a nordic Hamlet, but it never feels redundant. Its interpretation of nordic myth somehow doesn’t seem to tread on any of the PLENTIFUL adaptations of the mythology that we’ve seen. The way it retells Hamlet isn’t necessarily new either; there’s some familial betrayal followed by some sweet vengeance. It’s the whole Northman soup that’s special, not necessarily its ingredients. The Northman combines the aesthetics of arthouse cinema with a tried and true narrative. It reminds me of my favorite movie of last year, The Green Knight, in the ways it chooses to convey magic, lore, and above all, honor. We may never see the night blade feed again but I can’t wait to see what’s next for Eggers and his unwavering style. 6. Watcher If it’s a horror movie and Maika Monroe is in it you know it’s going to be good. Watcher is the next great film in the “paranoia thriller” genre and it feels like an absolute standout among its peers. Married couple Julia (Maika Monroe) and Francis (Karl Glusman) move to Bucharest because of a promotion Francis recently received. Francis speaks Romanian; Julia does not. When Julia feels she is being stalked by a mysterious stranger, we begin her paranoid journey toward the truth. The way language is used in the film might be one of the most clever narrative techniques I’ve seen. We see characters lie to Julia’s face during conversations, or at least, we think they do. Thanks to some brilliant camera techniques, we feel Julia is being stalked around every corner. Akin to how some films or shows will hide ghosts in weird places for the audience to find, Watcher makes you feel like you’re never safe, that you’re never alone; a stranger could be watching through a cracked doorway or that dimly lit apartment a few yards away. The film tows a delicate line. We as the audience have to ask ourselves “is she just imagining it?” I don’t want to spoil anything, but another clever layer that the film adds to the paranoia genre is gaslighting. When characters don’t believe Julia, you feel like you’re not being believed. You, as the audience, know what you saw but the film wants to trick you. Rarely has a movie so easily put me in the mindset of the protagonist. An easy read of the film is “believe women.” It’s simple. The movie wouldn’t happen if a single character treated Julia seriously; if they genuinely believed her instead of just trying to appease her anxiety long enough for it to not bother them. The thing about believing in women is that it’s also simple. It’s not hard or complicated. I’m hoping more movies like this can exist to make audiences everywhere feel the way Julia feels. Maybe next time they’ll trust how someone is feeling without a moment's hesitation. 5. Everything Everywhere All At Once What more can you say about Everything Everywhere All At Once? It’s really an undeniable moment in cinema this year. This frankly bizarre, out-of-control multiverse movie captured the hearts and minds of audiences everywhere, all at once, and I think that’s what really impresses me about the film. I think general audiences are starting to have a nerdier lexicon as comic book movies and other nerdy fare start to funnel into the mainstream. As a result, we get weirder, more abstract films that hit harder with larger audiences. No longer do multiverses, cloning, or even magic need to belong to just the biggest mega adaptations. This isn’t to say that Everything Everywhere All At Once is the littlest indie darling that could. The mission statement of production/distribution company A24 might as well be “let’s market arthouse cinema to general audiences.” Also, this film had the Russo Brothers as producers and if they know how to do anything, it's how to make money at the box office. Regardless, it’s still really cool to see a movie featuring women with hot dog fingers in a different universe have a relatable emotional moment that can bring an actual tear to your eye. I’m in awe of how this movie resonated with people. I was in a theater full of sobbing weirdos because this movie made us all weirdos for a few hours. For all the insane frills this movie has, at its core it is an emotional tale that can hit with anyone. People didn’t walk away from this movie being like “fuck, do you remember the dad fanny pack fight scene?” They walked away being like “fuck, I also can relate to when two people speak different love languages and are too stubborn to meet somewhere in the middle because sometimes insecurities take the shape of an immovable monolithic wall - also can you believe the dad was Ke Huy Quan?” The Daniels are at their directorial peak in this film. If you’ve followed their career leading up to this, it’s easy to see the trajectory. I’ll be excited if they give us another, bigger-budget sci-fi flick, but I’d be equally happy with another farting corpse movie, and being able to say that makes me think that sometimes we do, in fact, live in the good timeline. 4. NOPE Jordan Peele doesn’t miss. Despite not being blown away by his previous film US, and absolutely loving his first feature GET OUT, NOPE is something really special. There’s no such thing as a simple story with Peele. Even in the case of a seemingly straightforward flick like GET OUT, there are hours of digging you can do to uncover deeper meaning and even lore. The worlds in all of Peele’s films are so rich, I would be happy to see him revisit any one of them. NOPE is Peele’s boldest film by far in terms of scope. The film feels like a spectacle. It’s so large it houses almost another movie within its narrative walls. NOPE also feels fresh. Yet another flavor of horror from Peele, but this has more Spielberg in it. NOPE is scary, but in the way War of the Worlds is scary. This movie also features Peele’s brand of humor which adds a masterclass level of levity to all his films. The cast is extremely dialed in and kills it in every scene. Keke Palmer bounces wonderfully against Peele film veteran Daniel Kaluuya, but she steals every scene she’s in. Steven Yeun is wonderful (as always), but carries a ton of narrative weight on his character’s shoulders. Also, a special shoutout to Brandon Perea who is delightfully hilarious from the moment he enters the fold. Peele really hit the movie scene with extreme confidence. For now, it seems he's staying in the realm of horror, but he’s trying to hit all corners of the genre while he’s there. It’s really exciting to see him make a horror movie of this scope. If he’s making a movie, I’m showing up. It’s really as simple as that. 3. Three Thousand Years of Longing I would not have expected George Miller’s first movie since 2015’s Mad Max: Fury Road to be a horny fairytale, but I also wouldn't have expected him to direct two Happy Feet movies. Three Thousand Years of Longing is a cautionary tale. It’s a narrative about narratives. It’s a love story, but most of all it is a fairytale. The marketing for this movie was understandably a little misleading. The pull quote that got thrown around a lot was “Aladdin for grown-ups.” When I’m feeling particularly facetious I like to say that Todd Philips’ dark clown movie Joker is “finally a comic book movie for grown-ups.” It means nothing, it’s empty and it’s barely an endorsement, let alone a coherent point of criticism. The thing is, it's spicy enough to get people’s “not baby” butts in the seats I guess. This movie isn’t a horny, action-packed romp through history. It’s actually a horny somber meditation on narrative and love, and how, for one character, maybe narrative and love can be the same. This isn’t to say the film is without its flairs. It’s colorful, gripping, magical and it looks amazing, but at its core, it’s a conversation between two characters. Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba are incredible in the film. Elba plays a Djinn recently released from a bottle and Swinton plays a human narratologist named Alithea. What unfolds over the course of two hours is everything that makes stories special. The film is a love letter to tales; it’s a love letter to love. It’s also a cautionary tale, not about what someone would do with three wishes, but what it means to love, to be loved, and the dangers and dynamics that come with it. It begs you to take everything in your life as a whole and not to reduce something like love to a metaphor. Not enough people are talking about this one. Every time I watch it, time just flies by. It’s everything I want in a movie. Stunning visuals and two people talking. That’s it! I’m good. Make the next Batman movie Bruce Wayne and Joker talking about love for two hours. That being said, I'm jazzed that George Miller is making another Mad Max next. 2. Barbarian I’m so glad I didn’t see the trailer for Barbarian. I think maybe I might’ve seen a really early teaser trailer but man I just watched the official one on Youtube and they give all that shit away. Barbarian might be my favorite theater-going experience in a long time. Nothing beats a crowded horror movie screening where NO ONE knows what’s about to happen, which is Barbarian’s specialty. It wants you to think it’s going in a very specific direction until it aggressively switches lanes. The thing is, the movie is so good it didn’t even have to do that for me to like it, but the fact that it subverted my expectations transcended it to the coveted number two spot on my list. What makes Barbarian special? In many ways, the movie feels Jordan Peele-esque, which isn’t surprising since apparently writer, director, and former Whitest Kids U'Know collaborator Zach Creeger spoke with Peele a lot during his time writing the script for the film. The world of Barbarian feels like it spans far beyond what we see in the film. It feels lived in, like any number of stories could spawn from it. The movie is oftentimes hilarious, with a surprise role that was a joy to see on-screen. There are also a lot of perfectly spun thematic plates that miraculously crash together by the film's climax. Barbarian, similar to Everything Everywhere All at Once, felt like another moment in cinema this year. It had all the buzz and all the mindshare for a few weeks. I love movies like that. There’s not a bad thing to say about this flick. It's just a fun time. Zach Creeger is another sketch comedy actor/writer turned horror director and I’m starting to think all of the funny creators out there should take a stab at the transition. 1. The Batman Mr. Vengeance everybody. Batman has seen his fair share of adaptations and the thing about them is that they’re all pretty different. Goofy camp in the 60s, Burton-brand darkness in the early 90s, the queer romp of the Schumacher era, the grounded gritty militarized trilogy, and whatever Zach Snyder’s version was. Batman has been done, it’s over. What more do we want? They gave me what I didn’t know I wanted. I didn’t know I wanted an emo, socially inept, flawed Batman. I didn’t know I actually wanted the movies to become darker and grittier. Though, in many ways, I did get what I always wanted out of a Batman movie. This is a noir, first and foremost. Batman returns to his role as the world’s greatest detective, a position he’s actually never really held on the big screen. For all this darker, grittier, finally-a-comic-book-movie-for-grown-ups talk, this movie doesn’t feel more realistic. It feels more like a comic book movie than the Christopher Nolan movies do. It has more levity than people give it credit for. It has gadgets that seem plausible, but the movie doesn’t go to great lengths to explain their plausibility. The Batman is a whole-ass vibe. The film has an amazing color palette, from deep oranges and reds that fill out the foggy Gotham streets to the flashing lights of The Penguin’s club and base of operations. The music by the legendary Michael Giacchino taps into that cultural membrane of what we think a Batman film should sound like. Not since Danny Elfman’s composition of Batman (1989) or Batman Returns has a dark knight score felt so iconic. The characters feel fresh and fit perfectly into this new cinematic mold. Colin Farrell’s Penguin is hilarious. Like everything about him is hilarious, it's insane that this handsome Irishman is playing this version of the character. Zoe Kravitz shoots to the top of the list of best Catwomen. She feels dangerous in every scene; she can overpower every other character, and it’s impossible to trust her allegiances. Paul Dano has come out of “playing extremely weird fucking guy” retirement one last time to bring the absolute heat with his performance as the Riddler. Let’s not forget the big one. Robert Pattinson’s performance as Bruce Wayne/Batman is immediately iconic. A young Batman not just in age but also in his crime-fighting career. This Batman is flawed, but not because he isn’t well equipped for the challenges of being Batman. His view is flawed, his philosophy is flawed. He’s angry, and his view on justice is black and white. This movie accounts for the fact that Batman is, under the cowl, a rich white man with endless privilege. This gives you a brash and interesting Batman, a Batman who makes decisions you may not agree with, a Batman with room to grow. This is only one side of the caped crusader coin. Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne feels wholly unique. The dichotomy of Batman asks: “Which is the disguise?” Does Bruce Wanye wear the cowl to become Batman or does Batman put on the expensive suit to become Bruce Wayne? We see Bruce in this movie far less than we ever have in a Batman film. When we do see him, he feels vulnerable and exposed. Like a nerve that shivers against the cold breeze. When he’s Batman, he’s confident…maybe too confident. I'm excited to see what this iteration of Bruce Wayne evolves into. I'd imagine “billionaire playboy” is a role we will have to see our hero learn. The thing that really, absolutely sold me on this Batman was the ending. If you haven’t seen it then feel free to skip these next few sentences, but if you have… At the end of the movie, we see Batman actually helping people. From lighting a flare in the dark to leading trapped citizens out of crashed rubble to loading the wounded onto stretchers as day breaks. Historically, we never actually see Batman help the people of Gotham. Sure we see him save the lady he’s trying to smash but rarely do we see Batman interact with the thing he’s trying to save in Gotham – its people. It is at this moment that Batman learns that his pursuit isn’t aimless vengeance; it’s to help people. I think that’s the thing I’ve always wanted out of a Batman movie, I just never knew it. Robert Anderson Head of Podcasting Robby has a degree in Screenwriting and Playwriting and works in multiple genres. He's just your typical man-child who enjoys most things nerd culture. You can follow him on Twitter and Instagram @RoBaeBae

A Moonage Daydream Review If you are of an age that you were aware of David Bowie’s body of work in 2016, then you can remember where you were when you heard of his passing. I was living in Lincoln, Nebraska at the time, and my now-husband had just left for Army boot camp on January 2nd. Bowie’s passing on January 10th came on the heels of Scott Weiland’s accidental overdose on December 3rd and just before Alan Rickman’s death on January 14th. To say I am a fan of these three men is an understatement, but Bowie’s death affected me the most deeply. Informing Heath, my partner, through a letter, that David Bowie had both released his new album and passed away, at the devastatingly young age of 69, was nothing short of surreal. But what is Bowie, if not surreal? Brett Morgen’s latest documentary, Moonage Daydream, captures that exact essence of David Bowie in all his beautiful complexity. Told entirely through concert footage, interviews, music videos and artistic home videos (although there should be a more extravagant word for what these videos actually are), Moonage Daydream has no interest in defining Bowie as a man; rather the film strives to create a space in which to meditate and bask in the influence of Bowie. More art piece than film, Moonage Daydream continually cycles back on itself, starting at the end with Bowie’s “Blackstar,” then traveling through his early years, the various tours that led him to Berlin, his reemergence after solitude, his years after meeting Iman, and then finally back to the beginning: the end. Using this style of storytelling, Morgen paints a picture of Bowie that is, at first, broad, then begins to take focus, then zooms back out. Moonage Daydream is the first officially sanctioned film on the artist, with Morgen having access to five million different items within Bowie’s estate. This allows the film to reach a depth that no other exploration of the artist has even begun to approach. But that doesn't mean Morgen is concerned with contextualizing who he thinks the man to be. Morgen’s work always presents itself more as a mood in which audiences can dwell in their own thoughts and relationship to the work. While watching this particular piece of art, I couldn’t help remembering my own upbringing which was soundtracked by Bowie from a very young age: whether that be through his music, watching the 1986 classic Labyrinth, adoring the Bowie-inspired-1998-film Velvet Goldmine, loving the work of Wes Anderson and Christopher Nolan’s 2006 The Prestige, and finally, getting to see the touring exhibit David Bowie Is back in 2018 at the Brooklyn Museum. While heavily invested and present during my screening of Moonage Daydream, Morgen granted me the privilege and solace to process my own personal reckoning with Bowie’s death, by crafting a magical two hours in which Morgen brings him back to life. Within this brief renaissance, Morgen does illustrate some form of narrative of Bowie’s life, but because Morgen doesn’t begin with Bowie’s childhood (rather his metaphorical death in “Blackstar”), he perpetuates the idea of Bowie as an ethereal being that was never born unto this world. Morgen’s Bowie seemingly just is, and as far as linear lifetimes go, that isn’t far from the truth. Bowie was already 21 when Morgen was born (similarly, 21 years later, when Bowie was 42, I was born) and Bowie’s debut, self-titled album was released the year prior to Morgen’s birth. So there is not a world in which Morgen existed without the presence of Bowie, no matter how small. There’s something to be said about that type of relationship with an entertainer, one that’s forged by the very nature of an artist creating in the world, but it’s undeniable that those types of bonds are tangible when a recording artist has become the soundtrack for one’s life, as undoubtedly Bowie’s music has for so many people. Morgen manages to capture that relationship so purely that Moonage Daydream can even act as a mirror by which to gauge your own life’s reflection and connection to the world. There are a few moments within the film where Morgen seems to entertain being interested in tethering Bowie to some sort of common, worldly understanding (within his relationship to his parents, especially his mother, and his capacity to engage with romantic love) but Morgen wisely steers away from any final resolution in those departments. Rather, Morgen’s inclusion of these types of interviews where Bowie is asked about these familial relationships only illuminates the general population’s desire to know Bowie, to understand him and make sense of him. Bowie’s concert attendees, from the very beginning, possess a Beatles-like fervor in their admiration of him that borders on insanity. The screaming, the crying, the quaking; it’s all there. But when asked why they like him, it’s simple. They like his makeup, his clothing, his music: they simply like what he is. And in Moonage Daydream, this is what Bowie is. The documentary wastes no time detailing how Bowie studied music, or how he came to write most of his albums. With the exception of a few montages of him in the studio in Berlin, or a scene detailing how he would write lyrics only to chop them up and sing them out of order, Bowie’s connection to his music is almost entirely a state of mind where he channels the music out of the very ground on which he stands. His nomadic search for himself, his new muse, his new talent, and his new sound is far deeper than merely learning how to play a guitar. Morgen spares us the how and instead treats us to the who. Mirrored in Bowie’s search for himself, throughout the course of his ever-changing career, Morgen’s own contextualization of sound and image also evolves over the course of the film. The audience can expect to see most of the footage repeat itself, at one point or another, while the music and Bowie’s inner-monologue continues in a linear fashion. Morgen manages to touch on a good deal of Bowie’s discography, but the music might not always match the “correct” footage. Instead of being disorienting, however, this use of repeated footage but showing the footage in a new, or deeper, context plays into our own interpretation of memory and sound. So, in that sense, Moonage Daydream is exactly that, a daydream in which our understanding of both Bowie’s life and our own can come together and align in a way that has never happened before. Morgen has created a capsule, not dissimilar to a sense deprivation tank, where Bowie and the audience are one, within the womb of Bowie. As the film draws to a close, and you find yourself approaching the “Blackstar” once again, you’ll begin to feel a deep sense of grief as you remember that the film does, in fact, have to end. Bowie’s already met Iman, he’s found some form of real connection to this mysterious place he called home, and now it’s time for him to depart. It’s a tragic, but gorgeous, end to a story that everyone already knew. Some artists truly do transcend this plane, sacrificing a part of themself that they’ll never get to benefit from as much as we get to. Brett Morgen, while making Moonage Daydream, suffered a near-fatal heart attack that resulted in a week-long coma..but he survived. He attributed his heart attack to smoking and lack of exercise, but also to his tendency to overwork. Not only is Moonage Daydream a love letter to the life and art of David Bowie, but it provided the opportunity for Morgen to reconcile with his own obsessive search for artistic achievement. He’s lucky in that in his own search, he could take solace in Bowie’s. Something happened on the day he died. I thank Brett Morgen for capturing an essence of him, very much alive. Bernadette Gorman-White Managing Editor Bernadette graduated from DePauw University in 2011 with a Film Studies degree she’s not currently using. She constantly consumes television, film, and all things pop culture and will never be full. She doesn’t tweet much, but give her a follow @BeaGorman and see if that changes.

To know Marcel is to love Marcel, and this hasn’t changed since 2010. After three beloved viral YouTube videos One - 2010, Two - 2011, and Three - 2014, Marcel has finally made it to the big screen with Dean Fleischer-Camp’s directorial debut. Fleischer-Camp, alongside co-creator, co-writer, co-producer, and star, Jenny Slate, mined some of their original videos and added more story, more context, and more heart to construct the film that has been tapping into waterworks everywhere: Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. If you’re familiar with Marcel, you know he’s a shell because you can tell by his body, but he also has shoes…and a face: and he likes that about himself. The Marcel in the YouTube videos is full of whimsical quips and observations about life that are insightful and infinitely quotable, and he easily appears to have a rich inner life. But what the film brings to the table is the question of who Marcel is in the context of the larger world. Where does Marcel live? Who’s his family? And who is this mystery voice recording Marcel’s day-to-day? The film answers all of these questions and more in its concise 90-minute runtime, and beautifully so, but where it surprises you is its layered commentary, and the ability to be enjoyable whether you see the layers or not. On the surface, Marcel is about appreciating the ongoing beauty and intricacies of life while enduring the pains of loss and grief. But existing underneath that surface (which is a very, very funny surface, I should add) are lessons on all kinds of topics ranging from divorce to online toxicity. These different layers enrich the film as a whole, but their recognition isn’t vital to enjoying the simplicity of its heartwarming message of love, community, and cherishing the beauty of everyday life. But if you’re looking to delve a little deeper into the histories of the filmmakers, Marcel has even more lessons to offer. You quickly learn in the beginning of the film that Marcel lives in a home that was once owned by a couple that have since broken up and have chosen to rent the home out on AirBnB. This couple, Larissa and Mark, split up amidst a series of screaming matches which leads to the majority of Marcel’s community (i.e. family) being hastily packed up, unbeknownst to and by Mark, and driven away to a new home. The film picks up two years after Larissa and Mark have split up. Additionally, the film begins because the documentarian shooting the film, Dean Fleischer-Camp playing a version of himself, and his wife chose to divorce. Dean moves into the AirBnB as a temporary living situation while he searches for a new home/apartment. Coming off of the mostly light-hearted YouTube series, this is a lot of divorce/heartbreak for the genesis of Marcel’s story. But, as a film that can, and should, be used to help guide children through other heavy subjects such as fear and death, why not also face the reality that roughly 50% of children witness their parent's divorce? Both Larissa and Mark and Dean and his ex-wife were childless couples, but Marcel faces the repercussions of Mark and Larissa’s split just as much as any child would. Because of Larissa and Mark’s explosive breakup and the resulting trauma, Marcel doesn’t have a frame of reference for a couple who have chosen to amicably uncouple until Dean moves in. As Marcel and Dean’s friendship strengthens, and Dean begins to share more of himself, Marcel comes to learn more of the adult world. Jenny Slate and the “real” Dean Fleischer-Camp themselves are a representation, by all appearances, of a healthy friendship nurtured after an amicable uncoupling. The pair married in 2012 and divorced in 2016. This return to Marcel the Shell as a creative project the two of them have shared in over the past decade is an excellent example of a healthy adult friendship. Even the Dean within the film chooses to comment on the dissolution of his (fictional, but probably real) relationship as mutual and healthy. This life lesson is obviously not the most important of the film, but it’s a hopeful one for fans of these two artists and an important one for both children and adults alike. Speaking of Jenny Slate’s real-world experiences, Marcel’s experience with the internet isn’t overwhelmingly positive. It’s a rarity that films shine a discerning spotlight on the toxicity of social media, as most film and television these days use social media more as a tool or a language to further plot and tone instead of honestly critiquing it. Not to say that every creator has a responsibility to critique its placement in our world; social media and the internet are such a daily part of life that it would be odd not to see them utilized in at least some way in a modern-day project. But, every once in a while you’ll get a project like Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade (or, even more critically, Burnham’s Inside) that truly takes social media to task and makes us take a good hard look at just how frequently and easily we misuse the power at our disposal. Marcel isn’t concerned with going in as hard as Burnham’s works, but Marcel doesn’t shy away from passing judgment on the people who are only using him to further their own social status. When Dean posts a bit of his in-film documentary on YouTube, Marcel starts to gain popularity and stardom, so much so that when Marcel utilizes another YouTube video to gain intel on his missing family, Marcel’s “fans” go so far as to piece together the clues of where he lives to get that all-so-precious selfie in front of his house. Marcel makes note that the users all have something to say, but none of them are offering to help him in his cause. “This isn’t a community, it’s just an audience.” The online toxicity does come to a head at a certain point, but not before it elicits a physical response. This may be a bit of a stretch, but one can’t help but be reminded of Slate’s experience with social media on the receiving end of the critique regarding her relationship with Chris Evans. Bolstered by Evans’ “fans” who thought he could “do better,” Slate was thrown into a level of stardom that she had never experienced before, similarly to Marcel, eventually playing at least a small part in their breakup. Now, Marcel doesn’t experience anything quite like that, but the use of social media in the wrong hands does bring personal turmoil to Marcel, who is a perfectly wonderful little guy just trying to live his life the best way he knows how. Marcel isn’t the only one affected by this social media storyline either; in fact, possibly more affected (and the biggest story change from the original YouTube videos to the film) is his Nana Connie. Nana Connie, named after Slate’s own grandmother, is a catalyst for change in Marcel through this period in his life just as much as Dean’s arrival is. Connie, voiced wonderfully by Isabella Rossellini, seems to be modeled after Rossellini herself. (Slate has said in interviews they knew Rossellini was a big ask, and that she signed onto the project only after receiving encouragement from her children. Thank you, Elettra and Roberto!) Rossellini is most well-known for her roles in Blue Velvet and Death Becomes Her, but if you’ve paid attention to her work from 2008 on, you may be familiar with her Green Porno series. Green Porno is a comedic nature series of short films that aired on The Sundance Channel starting in 2008 (a number of them, along with subsequent series Seduce Me and Mammas, can now be found on, you guessed it, YouTube). The goal of the program, in Rossellini’s words, is to be both “entertaining and educational” while teaching viewers about animal sexual behavior and, in later series, animal mating and maternal rituals. If you’re keyed into the knowledge of Green Porno’s existence, learning about Nana Connie’s interests is even more endearing. Nana Connie loves to garden and take care of the insects in the garden. She has earned the insects’ trust, and in return, they help her with gardening tasks. Both Nana Connie and Isabella Rossellini are shining examples of Earth’s caretakers, teaching generations to come to follow in their footsteps by finding communion with their fellow organisms. These layers found within Marcel the Shell with Shoes On that bridge from the fantasy of the film to the reality of the filmmakers (the possibility of healthy uncoupling, a nuanced dissection of the perks and pitfalls of social media, and the call to care for the planet) are just three examples of the extra lessons to be learned within the film, at your own choosing. Ultimately, Marcel is an animated triumph that acts as a heart-on-its-sleeve comedy, but the manner in which Marcel, both the short and the feature, came to exist is impossible to ignore. Fleischer-Camp and Slate made the original short and first showed it at one of Fleischer-Camp’s comedy shows (where Slate jokes only 12 were in attendance), and afterward, an audience member asked if he would put it online so she could show it to her mom. Fleischer-Camp agreed, and thanks to the beauty of which the internet is possible, people bonded over the magic of Marcel. In the end, Marcel’s search for community isn’t so different from our own, and Marcel is an excellent guide to help get us there. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ Bernadette Gorman-White Managing Editor Bernadette graduated from DePauw University in 2011 with a Film Studies degree she’s not currently using. She constantly consumes television, film, and all things pop culture and will never be full. She doesn’t tweet much, but give her a follow @BeaGorman and see if that changes.