Let me start out by saying this movie isn’t for everyone. Having never previously seen a film by director Claire Denis, I may not have been prepared for her first English language film, High Life . Set aboard a small ship floating through deep space, the film feels more concerned with theme and tone than the special effects of your typical sci-fi space movie. If you look to the film’s main character, Monte (played by a post- Twilight Robert Pattinson), you may have more accurate expectations. High Life can feel like it has more in common with a Cronenberg film than, say, Alien . There are however, a few similarities between it and Ridley Scott’s classic. They both have an overall tone of despair, a drab color palette, and a cast of characters that seemingly distrust each other. The crew and passengers aboard our space vessel are all criminals. Think Con Air in space (but not quite). High Life is a movie told out of context and out of order. It starts with Monte fixing the hull of the ship in full space suit, all the while talking and cooing over an intercom to a baby girl named Willow on the vessel. Who is the baby? Where are the rest of the crew? What the heck is going on? We jump around the timeline during the story - between Monte and baby Willow, Monte pre-baby with the ship’s crew, and later with an aging Monte and teenage Willow. The story hinges on two major plotlines: hurtling through space directly towards a black hole, and the attempts of Dr. Dibs (Juliette Binoche) to inseminate a patient and deliver a healthy baby in deep space. The most fleshed out characters are Monte and Dr. Dibs, who is a criminal and a basket case in her own right. She adds sedatives to the ship’s water supply and gives out pain pills as a reward for male semen specimens. Monte is the only man on board that does not participate in her trials. But eventually even that does not save him. Dibs is definitely in control of these castaways in space but who put her in this position of power? The film takes its time unfolding and never quite answers all of the questions that arise throughout. High Life gives little backstory to these convicts, only that they all chose space over the death penalty on Earth. We glimpse quick flashbacks for a few of the characters, hinting at their various misdeeds, while others are never really explained: André Benjamin’s Tcherny is happy enough to work in the ship’s garden, hoping that he is making a difference for his wife and child back home (even if he never sees them again). It is implied that back on Earth, things are not going well, but it is never really clearly explained why. The hope is for the space crew to enter a black hole and find another possible energy source. But in reality, Denis seems less focused on this plotline than on the journey itself and the toll it takes on its passengers. It becomes more of a vehicle for addressing the theme of loneliness: wanting or not wanting to connect, or not being able to. The passengers (including Dr. Dibs) all drink recycled gray water, grow vegetables in the ship’s garden and let off steam by masturbating with something called the “fuck box.” The film feels stifling at times, and I think Denis means it to be that way. When Mia Goth’s character, Boyse, is impregnated by Dibs against her will, she ultimately delivers the only baby to come to term and survive: Willow. But Boyse isn’t pleased to be a mother. Her experience is a solid depiction of postpartum depression. Put that into the context of traveling in deep space - so far from Earth that everyone you know is already dead - and it compounds the despair factor even further. The scenes featuring Monte alone (albeit as a frustrated but loving single parent to Willow) are some of the best in the film. Monte is humanized. He could easily be in the same predicament on Earth, but here, alone in space, everything is amplified. The horrible circumstances of how Monte gets to be alone on the ship are incited by Ewan Mitchell’s Ettore, who takes full advantage onboard to rape and beat some of his fellow female passengers. After this incident, High Life becomes a bit like Ten Little Indians; one by one the members of the crew perish, until only Monte and his baby girl remain. By the time a graying Monte and teen Willow are about to enter the black hole, they are ready for what’s next, no matter what, and so are we. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. IG: @dldimuro #Newsletter #Review #DianaDiMuro #HighLife #SciFi #MillerHighLife #RobertPattinson #ClaireDenis #ArtHouse

After working hard to get into their dream colleges, best friends Molly (Beanie Feldstein) and Amy (Kaitlyn Dever) realize that their party-animal peers have also been accepted into good colleges with far less effort. The night before they graduate becomes their last chance to let loose and show their fellow classmates that they really are “fun.” Molly and Amy attempt to cram in as many wild experiences as they can (including the seminal high school party) to capture the true “high school experience” before it’s too late. This is the plot of Booksmart , actress Olivia Wilde’s directorial debut, and I’m pleased to say, it’s well worth the watch. Obvious comparisons are going to be made between Booksmart and Superbad (starring Feldstein’s older brother, Jonah Hill) - nerds with something to prove, virgins trying to lose the dreaded “V-card,” friendships tested - but a lot has changed in the 12 years since Superbad , A LOT. And while the film’s plot (teen hijinks all night) feels familiar, there are many aspects to Wilde’s interpretation that make it feel refreshingly new. In Booksmart , Feldstein’s Molly has a “Boss-Bitch Take-No-Prisoners” attitude. Initially she thinks she is better than the “stoners, losers, etc.” of her high school class, but once she learns that they have also been accepted into great schools AND had fun along the way, she freaks out. Molly pushes her friend Amy (played excellently by Kaitlyn Dever) to leave their comfort zone and embark on a wild night out before they graduate. Amy, who is leaving for a summer of volunteer work in Botswana before starting at Columbia, came out to her friends and family early in high school, but has yet to date or have a physical relationship with any girls. She pines for a skateboarding classmate who she is unsure of whether or not she is gay. Molly, intent on getting the two best friends to a party with the popular kids in their class, decides this is both their opportunity for change. While Superbad had several cameos from some of Judd Apatow’s best known actors (Seth Rogen, Bill Hader and more), most of Booksmart’s young ensemble are relatively unknown. And yet, the movie’s main cast of characters are all extremely entertaining, even likeable, each in their own way. Long before they ever arrive at the desired high school party, Molly and Amy have their own hijinks through a variety of encounters: with Amy’s parents (Lisa Kudrow and Will Forte), their principal/Uber driver (played by Wilde’s fiancé Jason Sudekis) and two of their classmates that occasionally steal the show: Jared and Gigi. Jared, played enthusiastically by Skyler Gisondo, is hilarious, but more so insanely sympathetic. He’s an extremely rich kid, posing from one identity to the next, who in reality, only has one real friend: his ride-or-die girl, Gigi (played by Billie Lourd). Molly is one of the few other students who actually speaks to Jared like a real person rather than mocking him, and she calls him out for his attempts to “buy friends.” This is just one example of why I like him. Jared is earnest in his attempts at getting people to like him (including Molly) and he values her because he recognizes that she also “tries hard” and doesn’t apologize for who she is. Molly, in her honesty with characters like Jared and Amy, also learns more about herself and the classmates she previously dismissed. Gigi on the other hand - hot damn Billie Lourd is a delight! When Jared explains how seemingly kooky Gigi has always been there for him, we nod in appreciation and understanding. Gigi provides comic relief during moments of stress or crisis throughout the film, but she is also the catalyst for our two heroes, Amy and Molly. Upon arriving at Jared’s own party, Gigi gives the two friends drugs that further “sends them on their journey” and also provides even more growth for the two characters. I can only imagine that Billie Lourd had a great time playing this character. I look forward to watching her performance again. Honestly, Booksmart is a really fun movie with plenty of laugh out loud scenes. But what made it a great movie was the film’s several poignant moments, ones that immediately made you feel empathy for its characters, even the ones you may not normally identify with. I won’t delve much more into the film’s plot as I do not want to give too much away, but the beautiful thing about this friendship comedy is just that: the friendship. Whether or not their lines were improvised or entirely scripted, the dialogue between the film’s two leads, Amy and Molly, feels genuine; they are two best friends talking. Their banter is one of the biggest draws of the film. I later read that the two actresses lived together during filming, and I think it shows in how comfortable they are with one another onscreen. The great love story of the film is the friendship between Amy and Molly, and you are laughing along with them and rooting for them until the credits roll. I look forward to seeing what Olivia Wilde does next, but even more so, what directions Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein’s careers go in. I hope they occasionally cross paths again in the future. We will all benefit from it. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. IG: @dldimuro #Newsletter #Review #DianaDiMuro #Booksmart #2019 #Comedy

So, I’m what you might call a bit of a trailer junkie. I’m not someone who comes late to movies. I say this in all honesty: sometimes the trailers are the best part. Almost every night, right before bed, I open up YouTube and see what’s out there. And while some studios these days include more content than I would like in their film and tv trailers, others provide just enough to get you hooked, get you pumped, or get you talking. Here are a few that I’ve enjoyed recently. The Goldfinch The Goldfinch is now in theaters and unfortunately, it’s not getting great reviews. It’s a very long book by Donna Tartt, which apparently is now an even longer film directed by John Crowley of Brooklyn fame. But the original trailer that came out almost three months ago still has me intrigued. Cutting scenes together with Perfume Genius’ beautiful song, “Otherside,” along with an all star cast and cinematography by the legendary Roger Deakins? Shiiiiiiiit. I kinda don’t care that this got bad reviews so far. I’m still gonna see it. At least watch this trailer: The Rhythm Section Blake Lively cut her hair and is donning a British accent! This could be bad. But it also stars Jude Law and Sterling K. Brown. This could still be bad. But she’s kicking ass. Plus, the trailer has a pretty good cover of “In the Pines,” aka “My Girl.” (Think less American folk song and more Nirvana reinterpretation). JoJo Rabbit All aboard the Taika Waititi express! If you only just discovered this gem of a director/actor with 2017’s Thor: Ragnarok , you’ll get no judgement from me. But do yourself a favor and watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople as soon as possible. Then back it up and watch Boy . Then watch the original HBO film version of What We Do in the Shadows . You won’t regret it. *(Side note: while this film also has a stellar cast, I was most excited to see the return of Thomasin McKenzie, who shined in 2018’s Leave No Trace ). Honey Boy I never watched Even Stevens . But I have seen The Battle of Shaker Heights, Holes , and that Sia music video starring the cultural zeitgeist that is Shia LaBeouf. I can only imagine what his life was like as a child actor. But now we don’t have to. With a screenplay written by LaBeouf, Honey Boy is a fictionalized account of what growing up on camera does to a child. Starring Noah Jupe and Lucas Hedges as the main character at various ages, the real sucker punch is realizing that Shia LaBeouf is playing a character based on his own father. I can’t wait to see this. 1917 What can I say? Sometimes you’re in the mood for a good war movie. And directed by Sam Mendes? Jebuzzzz. Let’s hope George MacKay ( Marrowbone ) and Dean-Charles Chapman (one of the many sons who died on Game of Thrones ), are as good as the young men in Dunkirk . Living with Yourself Okay homebodies, here’s one coming to Netflix for ya. This looks like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind meets Maniac , starring PAUL RUDD. Enjoy. The Nightingale The latest from director Jennifer Kent ( The Babadook ) focuses on trauma and revenge, mostly against Sam Claflin ( The Hunger Games, Me Without You ). It’s also coming soon to Story Screen Beacon Theater! Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. IG: @dldimuro #Newsletter #DianaDiMuro #Article #Trailers #News

I’m pretty proud of my movie-watching prowess in 2019. The opening of the brick and mortar Story Screen Beacon Theater had a huge impact on that. And while now I can view excellently curated films, hosted by some of my favorite people in comfort and style, 2019 was not exactly about comfort. Last year displayed a variety of genres in film, but the ones that left their heaviest mark on me were some of the more gut-wrenching and emotional movies I have seen. Getting myself out of my comfort zone seems to be the general theme of 2019, and while some films seemed initially fun and “safe,” many took me by surprise, leaving me devastated and thinking about them long afterwards. Honorable Mentions - Some heavy hitting performers in 2019: Florence Pugh, Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson had me on the edge of my seat watching Avengers: Endgame , but it was her more comedic and dramatic roles that really floored me this year. JoJo Rabbit , Taika Waititi’s latest film, tackles Nazi Germany through the lens of a boy and his imaginary friend: Adolf Hitler (played by Waititi). Stealing the show for most of the film is Scarlett Johansson as JoJo’s mother, Rosie. Secretly hiding a young Jewish girl in her home and attempting to raise a son safely in Nazi Germany, Johansson’s performance is funny and sweet and heartrending. She goes on to shine in Marriage Story as a mother and actress, fighting to finally put herself first, starring opposite 2019’s hardest-working-man-in-showbusiness: Adam Driver. Driver really wrecks me in Marriage Story , but also in The Report . In The Report , Driver plays Daniel J. Jones, who is appointed the head of a task force investigating the tactics of torture and detention by the CIA in a post 9/11 world. This film is horrifying and makes me so incredibly angry. And that’s why it is so good. Annette Benning plays a wonderfully frustrating Senator Dianne Feinstein, but it is Driver’s quiet anger as Jones, that fuels the film. You owe it to yourself to watch this film and be sickened and infuriated. Plus... Star Wars ??? The Dead Don’t Die ? I am no longer in any doubt about Mr. Driver’s ability as an actor. I look forward to whatever he does next. Finally, Florence Pugh. Jeebus, Florence Pugh. I thought long and hard about whether or not to include Midsommar in my top ten, and while I ultimately left it off, Pugh’s performance is incredible. She also stars as a wrestler in Fighting With My Family , along with her supporting performance as a more fleshed out and vindicated Amy March in Little Women . Pugh has had a very good year. I look forward to seeing her play opposite Scarlett Johansson in Marvel’s upcoming Black Widow film. Bring it on. Honorable Mention: I Lost My Body I am definitely behind in viewing the animated films of 2019, but Netflix did us all a huge favor by adding France’s, I Lost My Body . The animation and music in Jérémy Clapin’s drama equally contributes to the melancholy whimsy that permeates the entire movie. It’s the story of a young man who loses his hand, told from the perspective of the lost hand! This film is beguiling, told out of order, culminating in the events that led to hand and body being separated. The film is also just as much about its main character Naoufel, feeling lost and alone, looking for connection and purpose, as it is about Naoufel’s hand, looking to reconnect with its lost body. Definitely check it out. Other excellent films in 2019 that gave me great pause in making my top ten list included: Uncut Gems, Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood, Captain Marvel, The Souvenir, Her Smell, The Lighthouse, Transit, Honey Boy , and The Last Black Man in San Francisco . These films are all extremely worth watching. I know they are on many of my favorite Story Screen writers’ lists. Please check out my fellow Story Screen cohorts for more details HERE . 10. 1917 So the kid from Marrowbone (George MacKay) and the nice king from Game of Thrones (Dean-Charles Chapman) are the stars of a World War I drama by Sam Mendes ( Skyfall, American Beauty )? A World War I drama with a score composed by Thomas Newman and cinematography by Roger Deakins? Well sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeet. I have to say, this was a tense fucking movie. And that’s saying something for a film that’s two hours. And while this film featured some great cameos by some fairly famous names, the heart and soul of this film is the performance of its two young leads. There is criticism that Mendes is not doing anything new in this film, or that he is indeed pulling from various war films we have previously seen. But I would argue that his attempt to create a film that feels like it is done in one shot really works for the subject matter. It creates nerve-wracking urgency and fear. It lets us view what the main characters are viewing (and also what they cannot see). The experience is what makes the film compelling. It humanizes the sometimes blown-out and impersonal spectacle of watching a film about war. 9. The Two Popes I honestly did not expect to see so many good films on streaming services in 2019. After hearing the Oscar nominations, I knew I needed to cram in a viewing of The Two Popes . The movie takes place at the Vatican, and is based on the interactions between Pope Benedict XVI and Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio (later Pope Francis), shortly before he becomes the new Pope. It is dialogue heavy, but it is never boring. The differences between these two men and how they view the world and the future of the Catholic Church are stark, but you cannot help feeling empathy for both of them. Jonathan Pryce goes toe to toe with Sir Anthony Hopkins for the entire duration of the film. The movie deals with forgiveness, not just of others, but of ourselves, and how that influences the choices we make in life. Watch it. 8. Little Women For a deep dive podcast comparing Greta Gerwig’s 2019 film adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s classic, check out our episode of Story Screen Presents: Overdrinkers , where Mike Burdge, Bernadette Gorman-White and myself compare the film to the 1994 classic by Gillian Armstrong. I think you’ll enjoy it. I know we did recording it. Whether or not I personally prefer certain aspects of one version of Little Women over another is not the point here. Regardless of its many interpretations, Gerwig leaves her mark. The decision to forgo linear storytelling allows Gerwig to take a new look at some of the most well known plot lines of Alcott’s story and to change our perception of them. She also gives us a look into what the real life Alcott may have herself experienced by showcasing a Jo March that is more than ever before, a stand-in for Alcott. When the film concludes with Jo watching the printing and binding of her very first novel it is not without great cost. Gerwig’s interpretation left me both sad and moved. 7. Marriage Story Noah Baumbach can drive you crazy sometimes. I know he is not everyone’s cup of tea. But Marriage Story , based on Baumbach’s own divorce, is overwhelming. The performances by both Scarlett Johansson (as Nicole) and Adam Driver (as Charlie) are equally riveting. But as the two characters change from a couple just trying to separate amicably, to two people fighting to keep custody of their only child, things go from bad to worse. The reality of the process, both mundane and dramatic at times, is what makes this film special. Watching Charlie struggle, both to keep his life in NY and to prepare his new apartment in California as a single dad, is crushing. The compromise of this movie is what really kills me. And hearing how much Charlie and Nicole still value and care about each other, despite all of the terrible tension and fighting that comes with divorce, makes it all the more real. 6. Share Collaborating with A24, HBO acquired Share , Pippa Bianco’s feature film, based on the 2015 short she created. Written and directed by Bianco, Share stars Rhianne Barreto as Mandy, a sixteen-year-old who wakes up at the start of the movie on her front lawn with no memory of how she got there. What follows is a video, shared among her friends, of part of that evening’s events, and how she and her family try to deal with its aftermath. When Mandy’s mother tries to explain to her that her father didn’t know that stuff like this happens all the time, it is truly heartbreaking. The film not only deals with sexual assault, but with the differences of perception of such events between boys and girls, as well as between parents and their sons and daughters. It is harsh but excellent and I highly recommend it. 5. The Nightingale I put off watching The Nightingale for a very long time having been warned of its graphic scenes of rape and violence. But Jennifer Kent’s follow up to The Babadook deserves your attention, no matter what. It is more than a rape revenge film, it deals with issues of racism, classism, sexism and yes, revenge, but also fear. Aisling Franciosi leads brilliantly as Clare, a young Irish convict, working off her indentured servitude in Tasmania. After losing everything to the British officer she works for, she chases after him into the wilderness hiring Billy (Baykali Ganambarr), an Aboriginal man, as her guide. These two leads are amazing, and both of their stories are just as devastating as the other’s. When they finally confront the officer, (played by Sam Claflin) the genuine fear of Clare confronting her attacker is palpable by Franciosi’s stellar performance. 4. Capernaum Capernaum was a limited release in theaters back in December 2018, but I am including it in my 2019 top ten because it is that good. A Lebanese drama by Nadine Labaki, it focuses on Zain, a 12 year old boy who runs away from his negligent parents and lives on the streets, eventually committing a violent crime. When he is sentenced to five years in jail, he sues his parents in an attempt to fight back from their treatment. This film is Zain. He carries it. The injustice of his situation and of the justice system itself is as captivating as it is terrifying. 3. Pain and Glory (Dolor y gloria) Pedro Almodovar directs an extremely personal film about an aging director named Salvador Mallo, (played by Antonio Banderas) who is coming to terms with his life, his career, and his rapidly decreasing health. Mallo has seemingly given up. But when an anniversary event for one of his early film successes reunites him with his aging star actor (played by Asier Etxeandia) it pushes Salvador on a new trajectory, one that vacillates between his current struggles, memories of his mother (played by Penelope Cruz), and his own childhood, all of which shape his art. The film apparently mimics some of Almodovar’s own experiences in life, as well as his relationship with Antonio Banderas. Banderas is truly wonderful. And Almodovar always keeps things heightened and on the verge of going over the top, but that somehow makes them feel more real. This film seems more personal than anything I have seen by him in quite some time. 2. The Farewell This movie completely came out of left field for me. Awkwafina man. Damn. I did not expect the hilarious and animated rapper/actor from films like Crazy Rich Asians and Ocean’s 8 to floor me with such a bittersweet dramatic performance. While I am ecstatic that she received a Golden Globe for her performance as lead actress in Lulu Wang’s film, I am infuriated that she did not receive an Oscar nomination. Awkwafina plays Billi, a Chinese-American who returns to China with her family to visit her Nai Nai (played by the charming Shuzhen Zhao), after the family has learned that the grandmother has terminal cancer. The caveat is that no one tells the grandmother her diagnosis. They play along with the charade that the family is gathered together for a young cousin’s wedding reception. Billi struggles the most with this decision, and she questions the motives of her family and a culture that would go along with it. This film is just as much about the conflict of cultural norms as it is about grieving the people we love. By the end of the film you may question your own opinions about how best to handle old age and death. I know I did. 1. Parasite Bong Joon Ho blew it out of the water in 2019. I am ready to go on the record and say that this film deserves an Oscar for Best Film. Not Best International Film. Best Film. Period. No other movie surprised and devastated me as much as Parasite did in 2019. It was so very stressful, uncomfortable yet funny, engaging, and so very sad. One by one, the members of the Kim family slowly infiltrate the lives of the wealthy Park family. But just when you think you know what is going to happen, Joon Ho really pulls the rug out from under you. The entire cast is excellent, but the family of con artists (played by Choi Woo-shik, Song Kang-ho, Jang Hye-jin, and Park So-dam) are each incredibly likeable and compelling in their own way. While the film could have ended in fantasy with a happy “what if” moment, Joon Ho opts for bleakness. The disparity of wealth between these characters controls and dictates their every action, and it is brutal. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. IG: @dldimuro #Newsletter #DianaDiMuro #Bestof #2019 #Bestof2019 #TopTen

High Fidelity is a much loved novel by Nick Hornby, it’s also a hugely popular 2000 film adaptation starring John Cusack, a short-lived 2006 Broadway musical, and now in 2020, a Hulu series starring Zoë Kravitz. With such a strong cult following, one might ask if we really need another interpretation of Hornby’s work. Need? Maybe not. But adapting Hornby’s work into the longer format of a series where the gender of its main character is flipped certainly creates room for a pretty interesting look at its subject matter. In this latest version, Zoë Kravitz plays the main character, Rob: a record store owner with a penchant for making “Top 5” lists who is nursing a broken heart. I admit, it felt strange initially to hear some of the same lines of Hornby’s dialogue coming out of Kravitz’s mouth verbatim when I was so used to hearing Cusack. But after the initial storyline was set up, I found the new actors portraying Hornby’s characters really enjoyable. Zoë Kravitz is the standout performer as Rob (but more on her in a bit). Her record store cohorts are Simon (David H. Holmes) and Cherise (Da’Vine Joy Randolph). While Cherise initially seems to be just a surrogate for Jack Black’s Barry from the 2000 film, Randolph does more to humanize Cherise and shows a wider range of emotions for the character than the sometimes cartoonish Black. Cherise is still loud and boisterous, funny and judgmental, but she is also sympathetic and protective. When her feelings are hurt we believe it and actually care. David H. Holmes’ character, Simon, might be my favorite of the new series. Positioning Simon as one of Rob’s past heartbreaks who turned out to be gay makes for a more interesting character arc. Simon loves music and is apprehensive about asking out his crush at the local coffee shop, but he also remains a dedicated friend to Rob and Cherise throughout the series. Simon tempers some of their drama by being a voice of reason, but he is never a stick in the mud. He proves quickly to Rob that despite their change in relationship status, he has always been there for her. Simon’s own past heartbreaks are recounted in a stand alone episode that was one of my favorites of the season. I would have liked to have seen the same treatment for Cherise with more backstory as she works on her music (maybe in season two?). Introducing more female characters (and more female characters of color at that) into Hornby’s popular but straight white male narrative is indeed refreshing. I really enjoyed the perspectives of Rob and Cherise on music and pop culture, and how they subverted the expectations of what kinds of music men and women (and different races) enjoy. I was surprised by how much I liked the character of Rob’s brother, Cameron (played by Rainbow Francks). Cameron and his wife, Nikki, are about to have their first baby and he is terrified that his “life is over.” While this seems irresponsible and a bit dramatic, it is a story that is all too familiar in this day and age. Mourning the loss of youth and “freedom” before the birth of a child is a common thread in the lives of many new parents. I love all interactions between John and Joan Cusack in the 2000 film version, but the film did not heavily utilize her as a character. I really enjoyed having Rob’s brother in the Hulu series. He was able to call her out on her behavior while also providing his own shenanigans. But let’s get back to the main character of the story: Rob. Zoë Kravitz really is the reason to watch this latest iteration of High Fidelity. Her portrayal of Rob as a biracial queer woman afraid of commitment with “one foot out the door” is refreshing because it is true. All too often men are often described in fiction as afraid of commitment and bad at communication, but Rob shows us that a woman is just as capable of screwing things up, just as they are about to get even harder. When reading Hornby’s novel, I always identified more so with Rob than with any of Hornby’s female characters, and I really enjoyed watching Kravitz’s portrayal. It lets us witness Rob, both mourning the loss of a love that was her own fault, and trying to bury that pain at the same time. When I think back to John Cusack’s Rob now, I am often put off by his whininess and sense of entitlement, the fact that he seemed so jealous and angry. Even though she is still flawed, this new version of Rob (while still struggling with depression and obsessive behavior) takes steps toward breaking that cycle by the end of the first season. The most interesting parts of this new iteration of High Fidelity for me are when it strays from the familiar narrative. Rob’s interactions with musician Liam (hot Scot Thomas Doherty) and “nice guy” Clyde (Jake Lacey) both provide opportunities for Rob to attempt to get over her ex Mac (Kingley Ben-Adir) and show her failing. With each attempt, Rob’s character starts to learn more about what she really wants out of a relationship, as well as how much she has taken for granted. Hulu’s High Fidelity takes its biggest turn from the source material when we find Rob pleading with Clyde, not Mac, at the end of the season to give her another chance. Rob has learned (at least we think she is starting to learn) that she is deserving of love and needs to stop running from it. And she takes steps towards admitting her faults, in hopes of starting fresh with Clyde towards friendship. This isn’t Notting Hill; they don’t instantly get together once she shows up at his door and professes her feelings. Clyde tells Rob that they have a 9% chance of working things out and she takes it. We end season one with Rob still single but she has made some progress, and I for one am interested in seeing what she does to show Clyde (and us) in the future that she really does deserve love and happiness. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. IG: @dldimuro

Here are a few movies and binge-worthy shows that you can watch on streaming services while you are quarantined at home. On Netflix: Documentary Now! If you’ve ever watched an episode of Chef’s Table on Netflix, then you owe it to yourself to watch Season 2, Episode 2 of Documentary Now! titled: “Juan Likes Rice & Chicken.” Please, go watch it. You won’t be disappointed. The Little Prince This is a beautiful movie, not only for its story of “growing up,” but for its varied styles of animation. Whether you know the story of “The Little Prince,” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry or not, I think you will appreciate and enjoy this film. The English language version features some great voice work by the likes of Jeff Bridges, Rachel McAdams, Mackenzie Foy and more. The music, by Richard Harvey and Hans Zimmer, is captivating and compelling. This is worth a watch regardless of your age. 20th Century Women This 2016 film features a stellar cast: Annette Benning, Greta Gerwig, Billy Crudup, Elle Fanning and Lucas Jade Zumann (of Anne With An E fame). Mike Mills directs another story that is semi-autobiographical, about a boy growing up during the 1970’s in Santa Barbara, California, and the strong women that helped raise him. Sex Education Sex Education - seasons one and two are now available on Netflix. The premise: a kid with his own sexual hangups gives sex and relationship advice to other students for money. Plus his mother is played both awkwardly and awesomely by Gillian Anderson. Season two really expands the ensemble cast and I like it. Some of my favorite characters in season two were just minor characters in season one. Give it a go. I think you’ll like it. The End of the F***ing World (TEOTFW) This show is great. Maybe you’ll start getting Asa Butterfield from Sex Education confused with Alex Lawther from TEOTFW, maybe you won’t. Both are great performers in their own ways. I’m partial to Alex. He plays James, the self-proclaimed psychopath bent on killing his girlfriend, Alyssa (Jessica Barden). These episodes are short and sweet. You’ll burn through season one in no time. Luckily for you, season two was recently released. Enjoy, my friends. On Hulu: High Fidelity I wrote a review of this new incarnation of High Fidelity starring Zoë Kravitz. Definitely worth a watch! But make sure to check out the 2000 original film starring John Cusack first (available for rent on Amazon Prime, YouTube and Google Play). You won’t be disappointed. Once you’ve caught up on both, head on over to listen to Bernadette Gorman-White and Mike Burdge’s podcast discussing both here . P.S. There is a killer playlist of songs featured on the soundtrack available on Spotify . On Amazon Prime: The Cabin in the Woods An oldie but a goodie. Written by Joss Whedon and directed by Drew Goddard, this 2012 flick is a gem featuring a low key Chris Hemsworth (see what I did there?). Five friends go for some rest and relaxation at a cabin in the woods and get more than they bargained for. Always a fun watch. Emma (Available for rent) So if you like the cast of Sex Education , a lot of them also pop up in the latest version of Emma, Jane Austen’s story of a match-making queen bee. Anya Taylor-Joy does a great job as the titular character, but I really enjoyed Bill Nighy as her father, and Mia Goth as Harriet, the girl she takes “under her wing.” Johnny Flynn stars as Mr. Knightley, her brother-in-law who is the only one to challenge her actions and her affections. This version was really fun and made me laugh out loud on several occasions, but it also made me want to go back and rewatch Clueless (available for rent on Amazon Prime, YouTube and Google Play). Lean On Pete So this movie was on my top ten for 2018. It is free to stream if you have an Amazon Prime account. This is definitely a “horse and his boy” film, but it is also so much more than that. It really shows an unglorified look at poverty and life on the American frontier in the modern age. Charlie Plummer carries this movie with his performance, but there are a few nice cameos (Steve Buscemi, Chloë Sevigny) in there as well. On Disney+: The Mandalorian I mean, if you are late to the party and have only just recently subscribed to Disney+ then for the love of all that is holy, start watching The Mandalorian . It is just good comfort food. “Baby Yoda” aka “The Child” will unite us all. Who knew Pedro Pascal would do such a good job without even being allowed to show his face? Awesometown. ALL THINGS MARVEL ... plus The Simpsons Welp, Disney+ finally got Avengers: Endgame, and that’s 3 hours of your time right there. Add to that all of the previous Marvel films and hours upon hours of episodes of The Simpsons? You know where I’ll be. That’s it for now, friends. Let me hear some of your favorites in the comments section below. I’ll do my best to check them out! Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. IG: @dldimuro

Little Fires Everywhere is a popular novel by author Celeste Ng, now adapted into a series on Hulu, starring Kerry Washington and Reese Witherspoon. Set in the late 90’s, the story’s central characters are Mia Warren (Kerry Washington,) her daughter Pearl (Lexi Underwood), and the Richardsons: an affluent White family in the planned community of Shaker Heights, Ohio. Both Mia and Pearl - whether intentionally or not - deeply affect the Richardsons and their community. Both the book and the series begin with the Richardson house on fire, opening the reader/viewer up to the mystery of who set it and why? This is a story told in reverse - building up to the scene of a wealthy matriarch, outside in her bathrobe, watching as her home burns to the ground. How the series solves this mystery varies at times from its source material. Here is a look at some of the biggest changes from book to series, and how well they play out. Mia is an artist, carrying her camera with her everywhere she goes. She searches for inspiration in each new city or town that she and Pearl move to. When they arrive in Shaker Heights, Ohio, she has promised Pearl more stability, something the girl strongly craves. They rent an apartment from Elena Richardson (Reese Witherspoon) and thus begins the connection between these two very different mothers and their children. Elena is an affluent mother of four, a part-time reporter for the local newspaper, and she rents out a duplex left to her by her parents to anyone she finds “interesting” or who she believes she is helping. She does not “need” the income from the rental. Therein lies the first major difference between Mia and Elena: wealth. Elena’s younger son, Moody, (a standout performance by Gavin Lewis) is instantly drawn to meeting someone new to Shaker Heights, and he befriends Pearl, bringing her into the Richardson household. The upbringing of the Richardson children and their daily life is something that Pearl envies, but Mia is wary of. In Ng’s book, the people of Shaker Heights claim to “not see race.” Perhaps the most direct change from book to series is the decision to specify the race of its main characters, Mia and Pearl, as Black. This choice allows the series for more explicit instances of racism between its two mothers: Mia and Elena, as well as more casual racism between their children. When they are awakened by a Shaker Heights police officer for napping in their car, Mia warns Pearl to “put her hands on the dash.” The series uses race in particular as a means to explore preconceived notions about education, wealth, and even what makes someone a good parent. After Mia takes a job at a local Chinese restaurant to supplement her income, she also accepts Elena’s offer to help “manage her household” (aka cook and clean) to better keep an eye on Pearl. Hulu’s Mia always seems suspect of the Richardson family and what they stand for, but more wary of their potential influence on her daughter. While the book makes the offer of working at the Richardson home seem more plausible, the implications of race and servitude are made more nefariously on the show. Kerry Washington’s Mia does not seem like the type of person to accept a job making meatloaf for the Richardsons. She often portrays Mia like she is quietly seething, watching, judging. Her disdain for the Richardsons is more openly displayed than the book’s version of Mia, who seems more of a contemplative observer. In the series, Mia ultimately proclaims to Elena: “White women always want to be friends with their maid.” That’s right. They go there. By using race so explicitly in the series, it often becomes the defining lens - good or bad - for viewing our characters. It also becomes the driving force for drama and conflict on the Hulu series. And boy, there is a lot of drama. By not specifying Mia and Pearl’s race in the novel, Ng focuses more on money and class as a way to differentiate her characters. Pearl is described in the book more as a shy bookworm who instantly bonds with the awkward Moody, but she aspires to be friends with his popular older sister, Lexie, and crushes on his handsome jock brother, Trip. In the series, the idea that Pearl is an object - both to possess and exploit by the Richardsons - becomes more prevalent. When Pearl eventually befriends Lexie, letting her buy her a dress for the upcoming Homecoming dance, Mia reacts angrily: “You’re letting some rich spoiled white girl turn you into her dress-up doll.” Pearl remains loyal to the idea that Lexie is her friend, but Mia’s warnings prove accurate. When Pearl attempts to be placed into a higher level math class, she is met with opposition from her school counselor until (White) Elena steps in to advocate for her. The counselor initially assumes that Pearl is from inner city Cleveland and that there is no way she is advanced enough to take the course. This example of “adversity overcome” is then hijacked by Lexie Richardson, who adapts the story into a tale of sexism for her own Yale college admissions essay. Despite realizing that there is fault with her actions, Lexie denies culpability to her Black boyfriend, Brian. Lexie later continues this behavior of exploiting Pearl by using her name to avoid recognition at a local clinic to have an abortion. She then asks to be brought to Pearl’s home afterwards to avoid her own mother. The situation allows for a conversation between Pearl and Mia to talk about having sex for the first time, and it shows a genuine tenderness between them that is rarely found between Elena and the Richardson children. I found the scenes between Kerry Washington and Lexi Underwood to be some of the most compelling of the series. Their relationship - in both the novel and the series - becomes more and more strained as the Warrens and the Richardsons have more and more of an effect on each other. The other side of the mother/daughter coin is the extremely volatile relationship between Elena Richardson and her youngest daughter, Izzy (played by newcomer Megan Stott). A significant change from the book to the series is the introduction of Izzy’s sexuality as queer as a means of othering her from her peers and her own family. The series marks the 90’s setting in some very memorable ways: music, fashion, pop culture and mild homophobia. Ellen Degeneres coming out is a way of both marking the time period, but is also used to out Izzy. At the family dinner table, Trip (Jordan Elsass) chides Izzy with the intentional insult: “No wonder they call you Ellen,” to which a confused Elena asks, “Because she’s funny?” This question of Izzy’s sexuality adds an additional layer to the fear and awkwardness of starting high school, and her otherness from the rest of her more traditional straight cisgender family. Izzy has always been the “black sheep” of the family; she does not conform to social norms like Trip and Lexie, nor does she aspire to, as Pearl does. While Moody is less popular and more awkward than his older brother, the Hulu series does a much better job of fleshing out his character and making him more admirable than in the book. Some of this likeability is most definitely due to Gavin Lewis’ performance. In the series, Moody is much more vocal in defending Izzy for not caring about what others think, and his great disappointment with Pearl for wanting to spend more and more time with his older siblings is extremely palpable. On the show, Izzy briefly attempts to fit in to please her mother, but her efforts fall short. She realizes that she is being untrue to herself and ends up seeking solace with Mia, rather than her own mother. Izzy finds acceptance in Mia’s home, helping her make art. This concept of finding acceptance with a “chosen family” is much more familiar in queer coming out stories. The converse of this action is that Pearl eventually turns to Elena for comfort. To Mia, this is the greatest betrayal of all. The struggle between the story’s two mothers - Elena and Mia - and the argument for what makes a parent a “good” parent, is often the driving force of both novel and series. The book, however, does a much better job of making sure the main characters are never totally right or wrong, good or bad. I missed the “gray area” that more consistently cropped up in Ng’s novel than in the Hulu series, making it harder to cast total judgement on its main characters. So often on the show, Elena Richardson’s character seems out and out awful. She is malicious and often up to no good. Where the show does attempt to show some humanity is during episode six, told entirely in flashbacks of young Mia and Elena. Here we are able to learn more about some of the events that lead to their current situations as parents. The use of flashbacks does a better job of really painting the struggles of both women during the most pivotal moments in their lives. It also made me much more sympathetic to Elena’s character in the series, than her portrayal as an adult did. While the book never delves into Elena’s backstory, the series gives her relationship with Izzy some perspective: Izzy’s pregnancy was not planned (and perhaps never wanted). It becomes more understandable that Elena most likely suffered from postpartum depression, second-guessing her choices of having children and a family over a career as a journalist. Besides this brief interlude, the Hulu series (and Witherspoon’s performance) does a much better job overall of painting Elena heavily into the role as the story’s villain. Episode six also allows viewers to witness a young Mia enter into a romantic relationship with her mentor and art school professor, Pauline. She experiences happiness and acceptance right before she loses her younger brother and needs to return home. Forced to tell her parents the truth about her pregnancy - that she is a surrogate, carrying a baby for a couple paying for her art school - they ask her to not attend her brother’s funeral because of the possible speculation her pregnancy may incur. This is the defining incident that results in Mia deciding to keep the baby and flee, rather than return to school (and Pauline) in New York. After she gives birth, Mia tries to call Pauline, and learns that she has died of ovarian cancer while Mia has been away. Pauline, a successful artist, leaves Mia a photograph (of her pregnant with Pearl) that she could potentially sell if she ever needs the money. I really enjoyed episode six, both for the performances of the younger Elena (AnnaSophia Robb) and Mia (Tiffany Boone), and for the sympathy it created for them as adults. Ng’s novel always managed to create some empathy for its characters even when it found fault with them. The series has a harder time doing so. The dramatic back and forth on the show - between Mia and Pearl, Mia and Elena, Elena and Izzy - often left me rooting for no one in particular. While it is not the immediate focal point, Ng’s novel does deal with race in the form of Mia’s new friend, Bebe Chow. Bebe is an illegal Chinese immigrant, battling to regain custody of her daughter, May Ling, now adopted by a wealthy American family in Shaker Heights, the McCulloughs. The custody battle between Bebe and the McCulloughs is much more prevalent throughout the entire story in the novel. It serves as a topic of gossip and discussion across Shaker Heights - from the adults at cocktail parties to the students at the local high school. You hear rumblings about this controversy long before we ever meet its main players. The custody battle is both a way for us to learn more about the people of Shaker Heights, as well as a catalyst for shaking up their preconceived thoughts and opinions on race, class, and what makes a “good parent.” Does this baby deserve to be with her birth mother, or with adoptive parents who can afford to provide her with “a better life”? When we meet Bebe Chow on the show, she is distraught, we see flashbacks of her leaving her starving baby outside a fire station in an act of desperation. She wishes to find and regain custody of May Ling, but she is also terrified of being deported if she goes to the police. Mia befriends Bebe at the Chinese restaurant where they both work. She learns through the Richardson family that their friends, the McCulloughs, are throwing an extravagant first birthday party for their adopted daughter, “Mirabelle” (an Asian baby who was found outside a fire station). When Bebe finds out where her daughter is, drama most definitely ensues. Mia ultimately sells her prized photograph from Pauline in order to help Bebe pay her legal fees against the McCulloughs. The custody battle between Bebe Chow and the McCulloughs becomes the turning point in the series for Elena Richardson to truly become the show’s villain. Witherspoon’s depiction of Elena is one of an angry woman spiraling out of control, obsessed with Mia; she goes to great lengths to unearth the truth about this woman who has upended her “perfect” existence. Initially, Elena attempts to convince Bebe that her baby could have a better life with McCulloughs, and tries to buy her off, writing her a check for $10,000. When this tactic fails, she uses her skills as a reporter to figure out how a financially struggling Bebe suddenly has enough money to hire a lawyer. Izzy’s newfound relationship with Mia backfires when Izzy shows her parents the news coverage on the sale of Mia’s photograph. An enraged Elena attempts to hunt down more clues of Mia’s past, eventually locating Mia’s parents in Pennsylvania, where she learns the truth about Pearl. Mia has spent all of these years moving from town to town to avoid the couple who hired her as a surrogate. Elena/Witherspoon (channeling her Election character, Tracy Flick) blackmails Mia by threatening to tell Pearl this information if Mia testifies in support of Bebe. While the novel is much more of a slow burn leading up to the Richardson home’s demise, the Hulu series frequently turns the drama factor up to eleven. Nowhere is this more apparent than during its final episode. The last episode is full of screaming matches, fistfights, and some stark changes from the novel’s original ending. While some of these changes seem to empower its characters, others left me feeling somewhat disappointed with their outcomes. The difference I felt the most conflicted about was the choice that Izzy did not in fact set the “little fires everywhere” as she did in the book. In Ng’s novel, Izzy wants to force her family to reset; she calmly and methodically decides to douse each of her sibling’s beds with a circle of gasoline and packs her belongings, hoping to chase after Mia and Pearl once they have left Shaker Heights. She sets the fires thinking that her home is entirely empty, not realizing that Elena is taking a nap upstairs; it is never an attempt to harm any member of her family. The series reduces Izzy’s actions to more of a hysterical response. When Izzy learns that Mia and Pearl have left, she immediately grabs the can of gasoline from the garage and tries to burn her old clothes and belongings before she is thwarted by her siblings. Her mother wakes up and joins the fray, her children bombarding her with questions. Where is Pearl? What has her mother done? An emotional Izzy is finally given the opportunity to come clean to her mother about her sexuality, and she staunchly exclaims her desire to have a mother more accepting like Mia, rather than Elena. This leads Elena to blurt out that she never really wanted Izzy to begin with, much to the horror of her other children. Doors are slammed, Izzy flees the house, and Lexie becomes the instigator for starting the fires, with Trip and Moody eventually joining in. The series, while building up the fortitude of the other Richardson children, robs Izzy of some of her agency. Her departure seems to be a direct result of her mother’s terrible outburst, rather than a planned act: the culmination of a slow boil of years of othering by her own family. In the end, the show’s Elena claims to have set the fires to protect Izzy (who is assumed to be to blame). Elena then frantically races to her rental house looking for Izzy, but she only finds a piece of Mia’s artwork there waiting for her. While the bones of Ng’s story are always present, the Hulu series often takes the path of most destruction rather than one of thoughtful progression to make its points. Having the novel to compare to, I often felt the series chose drama over substance, making me miss the more complicated nuances of Ng’s original story and characters. This includes the show’s conclusion. After the fire destroys their home in the book, Elena suggests the Richardsons go stay at their rental house. The family (minus Izzy) then learns that Mia and Pearl vacated it the day before. When they arrive, a large envelope of Mia’s photos is there awaiting them. Without being labeled, each of the Richardsons internally knows which photo was left for them. Each photo is intensely intimate, personal to who it was made for, showing that Mia knew them better than they realized. The photos are not malicious in intent; they are hopeful, offering insight into each character, showing that there is more to them than meets the eye. The series’ ending chooses to show only Elena. Instead of a photograph, she is left pouring over a replica of Shaker Heights that Mia made with flour and water. In its center is a single birdcage with its door left open - one feather remaining, that belonged to Izzy - signifying her escape. It is a far less satisfying ending. In the novel, Mia’s intent was more thoughtful, more understanding; despite their differences, she wished for Elena to recognize and potentially escape her own cage. I prefer the book’s ending over the series. Elena is able to work through her own anger with Izzy, realizing that they are more alike than different, and that she has truly lost her. She resolves to set out looking for Izzy no matter how long it takes. While the book presents a more uncertain outcome, I find it to be a more hopeful one. The novel presents an ending for its characters where there is still the possibility of change, change for the better. It presents an ending that is far less black and white. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching TV and movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. You can follow her on Instagram @dldimuro

In director Eliza Hittman’s latest film, Never Rarely Sometimes Always, we meet our protagonist, Autumn (Sidney Flanigan), while she is performing at a 50’s sock hop themed school talent show. Her classmates lip-sync or dance to pre-recorded songs, but she gets up in front of everyone and sings and plays the guitar herself. Autumn has a sense of melancholy to her that makes her seem mature, yet she still seems young enough to be a high school student. She sings the line: “He makes me do things I don’t want to do,” shortly before being heckled by a boy in the audience, but she stays strong and keeps going. She and her cousin, Skylar (Talia Ryder), work at a local grocery store where they experience varying degrees of toxic masculinity from both male customers and their own manager. Autumn, who initially seems like a teenage girl with a normal amount of angst, slowly starts to exhibit that there is more going on in her life: she’s pregnant. Set in western Pennsylvania, Autumn initially visits a women’s clinic that is heavily Pro-Life, where she is shown a graphic “abortion is murder” video. At 17, she is not legally allowed to have an abortion without parental consent. While her mother appears both loving and concerned, she already has her hands full with two younger children and Autumn’s lackluster (and, at times, inappropriate) stepfather. Autumn keeps the news of her pregnancy to herself while she tries to figure out ways to induce a miscarriage, before she finally admits to her cousin what is really going on. The two decide to take a bus to New York City, where Autumn will be able to have an abortion as an unaccompanied minor. Hittman’s film really focuses on this journey and the odyssey of these two teenage girls attempting to maintain control over their own bodies and decisions. Cinematographer Hélène Louvart worked with Hittman on Never and on her previous film, Beach Rats. Both films explore gaze in various ways. The films take their time, focusing on surroundings, bodies, and in particular, on faces. It is a filmmaking choice that forces the viewer to linger more on emotions than dialogue. Part of what is so impactful about Eliza Hittman’s writing and directing is, indeed, the lack of dialogue. Her characters are more expressive through movements or a look than they are through what they say, whether it is Frankie, the closeted teen boy from Beach Rats, or Autumn. Autumn looks angry for much of the early portion of the film, but that anger is also fear, as well as quiet strength. In Beach Rats, Frankie struggles with a degree of self-loathing, hiding his burgeoning queer sexuality from his friends and family. His performance is very intertwined with his own desires, and he struggles to understand what he really wants and how to accept himself. He lives two separate lives: one during the day with his family and friends, the other at night in online gay chat rooms. With Autumn, we never witness this hidden side of her existence. We do not know how she became pregnant or who (in particular) has potentially abused her. This mystery creates a different atmosphere, one where any of the male characters in her life could potentially be the perpetrator, or where all of them are. This male experience - at times casual and at other times very threatening - is a regular part of life for both Autumn and Skylar. Their journey to New York is not glorified. They drag a heavy suitcase with them as they attempt to sleep on the subway or inside the bus station. They are country mice in the big city, offering us what would pass for glimpses of tourism if it were not for the real reason behind their visit. We have short respites from this darker purpose - watching them pick out pastries in a Chinese bakery, seeing them play video games in an arcade - before we (and they) are forced to confront it once again. When Autumn finally finds herself in an exam room in New York with a Planned Parenthood counselor, we realize how much she has been quietly fighting to hold it together for much of the film. Here she must answer several questions during the intake process regarding her past relationships and sexual history. The possible answers she must choose from are the title of the film: Never Rarely Sometimes Always. Through this short but very intense scene, we finally see Autumn’s stoic face break with a wave of emotion. The scene recontextualizes the film and all that we may have thought about her character up until this point. It’s fantastic. It makes a film that has already been really good, suddenly incredible. Sidney Flanigan’s performance as Autumn is understated, yet she is still a fully realized character. Talia Ryder’s performance as her cousin Skylar is also incredibly strong. Skylar is quietly supportive of Autumn throughout the journey. While she is also young, she seems more worldly than Autumn at times. She recognizes the desire of Jasper (Théodore Pellerin), a boy they meet on the bus, and decides out of necessity that she must put herself in an unwanted situation with him in order to help her and Autumn get enough money to return home after the procedure. When Autumn and Skylar finally get on the bus home to head back to their regular lives, we should feel relieved. But we’re not. It’s their “normal” lives that led them on this journey in the first place. Never Rarely Sometimes Always is at times bleak, but it always feels real. It adeptly recognizes and displays the dangers of being a teenage girl in America, and the continued struggle for women to have autonomy over their own bodies. In the end, the abortion itself is not the most horrifying event of the film. The struggle and experiences of these two girls is far more haunting. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching TV and movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. You can follow her on Instagram @dldimuro

I would definitely say that I am a big fan of the works of John Hughes. His films run the gamut: from Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off to Mr. Mom, Uncle Buck, Home Alone, and Planes, Trains and Automobiles. But all things considered, I would not say Weird Science is one of Hughes’ best creations; nor has it aged particularly well since its release in 1985. That said, I will address the things that bothered me most upon rewatch upfront, so that we can delve into the actually enjoyable parts of this goofy, sci-fi, teenage-wet-dream of a movie. For those of you who do not quite remember the plot: Ilan Mitchell-Smith and Anthony Michael Hall play Wyatt and Gary, best friends in high school who fantasize about girls but seem too young and “uncool” (at least during the 80’s) to actually date any. They are plagued by two upperclassmen, one of which is played by a young Robert Downey (sans the Jr.). When Wyatt’s parents go out of town for the weekend, they are further tormented by Wyatt’s older brother, Chet (RIP Bill Paxton), who rocks an amazing flat top haircut, but otherwise is definitely an asshole. Gary and Wyatt retreat to hang out in Wyatt’s room where they get the amazeballs idea to create their very own sexy lady using Wyatt’s computer. Here’s where things get weird (and convoluted). Is this supposed to be science fiction or fantasy? Wyatt should definitely be getting some kind of Nobel Prize, because in the movie he is able to figure out a way to feed literature and photos of both beautiful women AND Albert Einstein into his computer, then he uses it to hack into some kind of government mainframe system all before clamping wires from it to a Barbie doll, mimicking Frankenstein creating his monster. The sky above turns red and clouds gather over the house, just before lightning strikes and we get the best part of the movie (for both the characters and us viewers): Kelly LeBrock. LeBrock comes out of the boy’s bathroom in a haze of smoke and 80’s windblown-hair glory. She’s a total fox, but she’s not dumb (remember? they fed the computer a photo of Albert Einstein). The best part about their creation? She’s there to “serve” her masters: two ridiculous, sex-crazed, teenage boys who have no idea what they have just created. From there, the movie is pretty standard fare before it gets truly weird. LeBrock’s character initially does not have a name, so Gary gives her the name of Lisa, after a girl he liked who did not reciprocate his feelings. (Hughes himself named her Lisa after an early Apple computer model). This is a pretty good indication of the motivation for our two “heroes.” So far, they have struck out in the lady department and in appearing “cool” to their peers. Lisa on the other hand, is 80’s cool personified. She’s beautiful, she has a British accent (for reasons unknown), and with a snap of her fingers she can dress herself and the boys in the coolest duds of the times and conjure up a sweet Cadillac to take them out on the town. They all go out for a good time - complete with fake IDs - to hear music and get drunk with people who definitely appear 20-30 years their senior (and may have been in several other Hughes’ films). Lisa doesn’t seem to mind, she takes it all in stride, and before we know it, her charm has won everyone over. Sheila Benson wrote in her “Los Angeles Times” review back in 1985 that: “the film’s greatest asset is Kelly LeBrock, who is triumphant. She may represent souped-up womanhood at its most fanciful but she does so with great warmth and a sharp sense of herself.” The thing is, I don’t really like our two main characters, Wyatt and Gary. In Sixteen Candles, Anthony Michael Hall is at his dorkiest, but also his most endearing. In The Breakfast Club , his “nerd” persona is actually the most human of the group. But as Gary, he is essentially a far less likable version of his character in Sixteen Candles, trying to score with the ladies, but in a far more offensive way. The dialogue of Weird Science definitely surprised me after all these years. It features “bitch,” “faggot,” and much much more! This vernacular is not coming from the mouths of the film’s villains, but from our two main characters, Wyatt and Gary (well, mostly Gary). In a scene when Gary has clearly had too much to drink, he begins imitating an old Black man, trying to appeal to the gentlemen around him as they talk about soul music and women. I did some digging on the internet, because this scene (and the aforementioned uses of bitch and faggot repeatedly) is what most bothered me upon rewatch. Apparently, Anthony Michael Hall and John Hughes were both big fans of the comedy of Richard Pryor. Pryor is indeed hilarious. But seeing a teenage White boy trying to imitate him without understanding the reference? Not so much. On the flip side, Wyatt seems to have inherited the sweetness of Hall’s earlier characters from his other Hughes’ productions. Wyatt even manages to have his first kiss and learn a few pointers from Lisa (butt squeeze) - who is able to pull off this scene without too much creepiness. She manages to seem more like a non-familial “big sister,” trying to help these two dudes realize that they have a chance in this world if they just stand up for themselves and go for it. Lisa parades around the mall with her two young fellas, taunting the upperclassmen who cannot believe she is with Wyatt and Gary, until the girlfriends of said upperclassmen start to realize that those guys actually kind of suck. Lisa convinces the boys to throw a massive party at Wyatt’s house while his parents are gone (don’t worry, Chet is out duck hunting), and she schemes to help them gain both girlfriends and coolness. When the two girls they have dreamt of finally show up at their party, the boys actually worry about potentially hurting Lisa’s feelings which is both really sweet and ridiculous. But those girls (to be fair) seem both intimidated and awed by Lisa. The best part of the movie (in my opinion) is how sweet and charming LeBrock plays Lisa. Even though she occasionally slips up, displaying her use of weird (magic?) parlor tricks in an effort to help the boys, she always has their best interests at heart. Both Wyatt and Gary are pretty hesitant to speak to the girls they like at the party. They spend the better part of the night hiding inside a closet having panic attacks about how much of a mess the house is becoming before Lisa tips the scale further to motivate them to shine. This is again where I ask: science fiction or fantasy? Both? Lisa in theory is AI: Artificial intelligence. She was created by the boys using a computer. But she goes around changing the physical landscape around her with the blink of an eye: she creates clothes, fancy cars with novelty license plates, and trays of weird party snacks featuring caviar. Then like a mama bird pushing her chicks out of the nest, she summons some weird Mad Max -meets-sex-dungeon characters to show up at the house on motorcycles to torment the partying highschoolers and harass the girls that Wyatt and Gary admire. This is where the two boys finally stand up for themselves (but also call them a bunch of faggots and the girl a bitch). Good times. The cast of Thunderdome finally apologizes to the party’s hosts and leaves. The girls are so terrified and thankful that they decide Wyatt and Gary ARE COOL and decide to date them. SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF, FRIENDS. The next morning Chet returns and freaks the fuck out, but Lisa turns him into some kind of farting weird poop-emoji monster who eats bugs, until he promises to treat Wyatt and Gary with respect. Then Lisa pulls a Bewitched and cleans up the entire house (and Chet) just before mom and dad return from their weekend away. The boys are so very thankful. They’ve learned a lot from Lisa and they both tear up as they hug and kiss her goodbye. And honestly, I was a little sad to see Lisa go too. LeBrock is the best part of the movie as far as I’m concerned, (despite the connotation of her being an AI magic sex slave to two teenage boys). The way the film ends is with Lisa in full 80’s workout gear (a la Olivia Newton-John) getting ready to lead a boys’ high school gym class much to everyone’s chagrin. She, of course, makes all the boys faint. Again, science fiction or fantasy? Is she a witch? Is she some kind of succubus that needs the love and adoration of young boys to thrive? Who knows? This movie isn’t that deep! Some things to consider when judging Weird Science harshly: John Hughes was prolific during his career, and he churned out Sixteen Candles, shortly followed by The Breakfast Club , and Weird Science in a span of 15 months. Take that in for a minute: 15 MONTHS. Maybe one out of three films not being an all-time favorite is understandable. I started to wonder if maybe the film didn’t really sit well with me because it has been over 30 years since Weird Science was released, and a whole lot has happened since then (including the Black Lives Matter and Me Too movements). But I took a look back at several film reviews written in 1985, and it was a pretty mixed bag of reactions (mostly unpopular) back then too. My go-to duo back in the day, Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, lovingly disagreed: Siskel gave it a dramatic thumbs down, stating: “A wonderful writer-director has taken a cute idea about two teenage Dr. Frankensteins creating a perfect woman by computer and turned it into a vulgar, mindless, special-effects-cluttered wasteland.” Ebert on the other hand was a bit kinder in his 1985 take. He described the character of Lisa as: “an intelligent, sensitive woman who sees right through these teenagers and tries to do them some good,” crediting LeBrock and her character with making Weird Science , “funnier, and a little deeper, than the predictable story it might have been.” While the movie itself definitely has its flaws, I couldn’t agree more. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching TV and movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. You can follow her on Instagram @dldimuro

When I finished college, my first major break in the job department was for a large public relations firm in New York. I wanted to get into publishing, but public relations promised the opportunity to get some work experience under my belt and (in theory) use my writing skills. I commuted from the Hudson Valley - Monday thru Friday - into Midtown Manhattan, running errands, answering phones, doing research, and making appointments and many, many copies. I worked with/for lots of different kinds of people during my time there, and let’s just say: not all bosses are created equal. Director Kitty Green’s 2020 film, The Assistant, gave me an intense case of déjà vu and at times, PTSD, for this early phase in my work life. Capturing the experiences of one long day for its main character, Jane (Julia Garner), the film accurately portrays several tedious and mentally draining aspects of the administrative field. These facets can wear someone down, but they are often chalked up to “being a team player” or “a part of the job,” for someone just getting started in their career. The amount of time the film spends showing these mundane activities - standing at the copier, cleaning up after meetings, washing dishes that are discarded by other employees who barely glance in Jane’s direction - is what starts to wear on the viewer. They are also what make the film’s portrayal of Jane so believable. Jane is a recent college grad who is five weeks into her position at a prestigious film company based in New York. She knows this is a great opportunity and a stepping stone towards her long-term goal of getting into film producing, but the job is already taking a visible toll on her. She’s exhausted - we see her arrive before sunrise to open and set up the office - and her face is unusually guarded. Julia Garner’s performance is reserved but excellent. Jane frequently looks as if she has just sucked in a deep breath to avoid crying. Her lips are tight, her eyes glassy. When she needs to speak to others higher up at the company, they either look visibly annoyed or they do not look at her at all. She is one of three assistants (the other two are male) to the chairman of the company. Jane has been working so hard that she has forgotten to call her father for his birthday. Her parents, abstract voices on the other end of the phone, are supportive and understanding, knowing this is a great opportunity for their daughter. Jane’s boss is never named or referred to directly as anything other than “he.” “He wants to see you,” is enough for other executives to know who is being talked about. We never directly see “the boss” (as he is noted in the credits) but we do hear him speak, angrily muffled, over the phone. Twice during the film we watch Jane draft email apologies to him with her male cohorts looking over her shoulder offering advice. This is nothing new. The act of ingratiating oneself to the big boss seems to be the norm at the company, even when he is the one at fault. Murmured conversations and jokes made by Jane’s coworkers add to the general sense of unease throughout the film; we overhear dialogue as Jane hears it. If she is tired and zoning out while getting a glass of water, we are also zoned out, and miss the first part of a sentence until Jane realizes someone is speaking to her. That’s part of the realism of Green’s film; we are Jane: tired, uneasy, and working hard to make the most of a bad situation until it seems to be too much. In this case, red flags seem to come in bits and pieces throughout the film: a woman’s earring found under the couch in her boss’s office, his upset wife calling, demanding to know where he is and who he is with, a new female employee showing up that was promised a job after a chance encounter with “the boss” while he was in Idaho. The Assistant is modeled after Miramax and Harvey Weinstein without ever directly saying so. While we never receive concrete evidence that something bad is happening behind closed doors, Jane picks up on the little things happening around her that lead her (and us) to that belief. The new female hire from Idaho is put up at a fancy hotel upon arrival where the boss is believed to be visiting her. Female actresses trying to “make it” are often left alone in the office with the boss late at night. Fellow executives make cracks about his behavior but it is never reported, until Jane finally attempts to speak up to someone in Human Resources. There is so little dialogue in the film as a whole, that when Jane finally meets with a member of Human Resources (played by Matthew McFadyen) it is completely jarring. Jane attempts to describe why she is concerned about the new female employee from Idaho, while McFadyen’s character takes notes distractedly. He shows no real sense of urgency as Jane does. Things eventually flip in the conversation so intensely that it is a horrifying wake up call to both Jane and the audience. I won’t give much else away because it is a standout scene that deserves to be taken in. Long story short, Jane returns to her desk and is reprimanded for her attempt at whistleblowing (so much for confidentiality). Jane is repeatedly demeaned and harassed by her boss, and then made to feel that it is all in an attempt to make her “better.” Her boss claims that he is hard on her because she is good, and “he is going to make her great.” Green’s film does so much right in making this a very recognizable and realistic view of life as an assistant at a large corporation, where so few wield so much power and influence at their own discretion. The fact that this film came out post #MeToo movement and the arrest of Harvey Weinstein, makes it that much more impactful. It showcases the inherent compliance of an entire group of employees with the terrible deeds done by its leader. Everyone is either too new, too powerless, too tired, too disinterested or too afraid to speak up. They keep their heads down and keep working. And so, ultimately, does Jane. The Assistant is a draining and, at times, disturbing watch, but it is well worth it. I look forward to seeing what Green, and Julia Garner do next. Diana DiMuro Associate Editor Besides watching TV and movies, Diana likes the great outdoors, drawing and reading comics, and just generally rocking out. She has a BA in English Literature and is an art school drop out. You can follow her on Instagram @dldimuro

The year of our Lord 2017 was a tough year to live through. Plenty of ill-sitting people were put into offices they weren’t deemed worthy of seat-warming and poor mother! Earth came down with a violent case of the climate changes and displaced countless families from their homes. It was an awful year. The year of our Film 2017, however, provided an excellent refuge from it all, and I was lucky enough to have warmed the seats of many a theater to watch plenty of wonderful films. These films were so good in fact, that it is difficult for me to put a finger on just which one I think came out on top. So, without further ado, here is a list of my favorites (in order of their release) that managed to cure my ills this past year. And if I were a doctor, I’d prescribe these films with 16+ ounces of beer and 12 lbs. of cozy blanket. STAT! Jordan Peele’s Get Out February 24, 2017 Plenty of 2017’s films were a thermometer for the current political climate, but none quite so aggressively got to today’s core problems such as Get Out . While it’s easy to construct a horror film, it’s difficult to do it well, and Peele managed to deliver an exquisite thriller while not alienating the audience he’s chastising in the process. True art garners vivid and raw reactions from its audience, and boy did Get Out continue to weed out the Rose Armitages of the world, just as 2016’s election cycle had done the previous year. Timing alone, however, is not what makes Get Out great. A story about the oppression of a group of people, for the exploits of another, will always be a relevant horror story. Get Out’s themes of alienation, importance, and cultural and literal blindness raise an already stimulating genre to new heights, and challenges viewers to question who they are and what of their humanity they’d be willing to lose to better themselves. Darren Aronofsky’s mother! September 15, 2017 The only reason that I can understand why a viewer may not appreciate mother! is if it wholly and unabashedly offended them to the point of blasphemy. Other than that, what is there not to love? The film is visually engaging from start to finish, even if there is confusion along the way. The third violent and aggressive act alone would have sold me on the film if the first two pastoral acts hadn’t. Aronofsky isn’t new to the dissection of the relationship between art and artist, creation and creator. While some view The Wrestler and Black Swan to be companion films, I would insist that this is the third in the trilogy. Without digging too deep into the meat of the film, the presentation of mother! as a Rosemary’s Baby -style horror is all facade. Aronofsky asks the tough question of: who defines creation? How much does the artist owe to their devoted and loyal fans? And when is that creation perfect? Crammed to the altar with religious allegory, mother! was so much more than what I had anticipated and in all the right ways. For those who didn’t think Jennifer Lawrence was a strong enough actress to carry the role, or for those who thought the pacing was too jarring and inconsistent, don’t you think Aronofsky may have been making a comment on you? Denis Villeneuve’s Blade Runner 2049 October 6, 2017 I went into Blade Runner 2049 expecting to enjoy it, but I didn’t expect for it to imprint on me the way that it did, and to follow me around as if it’s my own personal Joi. Blade Runner 2049 expertly answers questions left lingering from the original film, while also leaving plenty of plot points open to interpretation. Perhaps it’s the dilemma of not having the opportunity to see the original film at the time of its release, but I always felt that while visually stunning, the original Blade Runner feels not as complete as I have always hoped it would. I understand its intent, but the delivery never quite lived up to the hype. Blade Runner 2049 however, lives up to the hype and so much more. Questioning his identity the entire film is Ryan Gosling’s Officer K, a Blade Runner “employed” by the L.A. police force. Of course, his work over the course of the film begins to intertwine with that of Rick Deckard, who has been on the lam ever since the ending of the original film. As with any great noir, the story beats in this film are meticulously paced on top of a beautiful backdrop. I’d go so far as to say this is the best looking film of the year. (Gun to head, if I absolutely HAD to choose a favorite film of 2017, Blade Runner 2049 might be what I whisper.) And when K finally tracks Deckard down in the wasteland that is now Las Vegas, we chase their confrontation through space and time. Their cat and mouse duel in the pit of a casino is further amplified by holograms of Elvis, Marilyn, Sinatra, and Liberace, (simpler Jois of yesteryear just trying to put on a good show). The use of sound and imagery in this scene blew me away, in a film that had already pushed me out of the gravitational pull of Earth and had me practically living “Off World.” My one qualm with the film is its ending. As much as this is a film to answer Deckard’s personal in-film questions, there is a certain reunion at the end of the film I’d rather not see. Blade Runner 2049 truly acted on me as the Wallace Corporation has acted on its consumer base. I became a Joi who couldn’t fully interact with her Joe, and to end the film on the steps of Stelline Laboratories with K, and K alone, would have brought me true and complete satisfaction. Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Killing of a Sacred Deer November 3, 2017 What can I say? I like it when a film sweeps me off my feet and leaves me defenseless, and The Killing of a Sacred Deer does just that. Set in an ersatz, surgical Cincinnati, in a world of precision and absurdism, Lanthimos takes you on a journey of repentance and revenge. The rules he sets up in this film aren’t as airtight as those he used in 2015’s The Lobster , but the audience is privy to what they need to know by the film’s midway point. Now, whether those rules apply to the whole of society, is left open to interpretation. This is why Lanthimos’ work is so captivating. Everything about The Killing of a Sacred Deer seems a bit…off. From the speaking cadence, to the interpretation of song and music, to the characters’ relationships with sex, and even to a family of doctors who smoke (and smoke a lot), everything seems skewed. Lanthimos takes you to these slightly uncomfortable, (but not altogether unpleasant), worlds and says, “Good luck!” Two of the movie’s leads, Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman, have had the pleasure of working together before reuniting for this film, which works to their credit. They truly and completely trust each other acting in the methodical Murphy family, where everyone has great hair. The way these characters pinball off of each other – gaining more and more momentum as they go – is mesmerizing. And the boy behind the flippers is calculatingly terrifying. Barry Keoghan’s portrayal of Martin is completely horrific as he starts to tighten his hold on the Murphy family. So much so, that even when I saw Keoghan in Dunkirk , I felt I couldn’t rightly trust him. Just as with The Lobster , Lanthimos produces a breathtakingly beautiful world where terrible things happen, all the while daring us to look away. I very much look forward to reading the rulebook for whatever fantasy world he sells us next. Sean Baker’s The Florida Project November 10, 2017 There is nothing about The Florida Project I don’t like. A story about a young girl beginning to realize her life is not one big amazing adventure, (such as she and her friends believe), and the struggles her young mother goes through to provide that fairy-tale lifestyle, could have in other hands, been a depressing and grim tale. But through Baker’s hands and young Brooklynn Prince’s eyes, we get a vast, ecstatic reimagining of childhood wonder where every day is a fun, new journey, even if you have to ask strangers for ice-cream money. Bria Vinaite’s Halley is the troubled mother to Prince’s precocious Moonee, just two of the many acting non-actors in The Florida Project . The only notable name is Willem Dafoe, who plays the owner of the motel in which most of the characters non-legally reside. Each of the characters in The Florida Project has their individual struggles, but they have their individual triumphs too. Where The Florida Project shines, is in its ability to not shy away from the bleak reality it presents, all the while still being able to remind us just how wonderful it is to be able to experience each new day for the miracle that it is. Martin McDonagh’s Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri November 10, 2017 The premise of Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri is simple. The characters and the town itself are anything but. Simply speaking, a mother is on a rampage to see justice in the case of her daughter’s rape and subsequent murder, but not just any mother: Frances McDormand’s fiery Mildred, who is blinded to everything, even her own remaining son’s discomfort, in the search for her daughter’s killer. In order to spur the investigation forward Mildred rents the three titular billboards, which read: “Raped While Dying. And Still No Arrests? How Come, Chief Willoughby?” She’s up against the way of the town, handled by the local police force, namely Police Chief Willoughby (Woody Harrelson), and Officer Dixon (Sam Rockwell). With Willoughby dying of pancreatic cancer and there being no suspects for the case, the town of Ebbing wants to see Mildred’s warpath come to an end, even if that means never solving the case. This type of story: good vs. good or evil vs. evil, is McDonagh’s cup of tea. Nobody in the forefront of this story is entirely right or entirely wrong. The story of Three Billboards takes place in a town where people get away with destruction with little to no consequence. During the course of the film, the viewer is encouraged to question one’s own morals and stances multiple times. There really are only a few “big picture” issues, such as abortion and animal cruelty, that aren’t brought up in this film. But throughout this dense and bleak drama, McDonagh manages to bring humor and empathy to these characters through his sharp writing and excellent direction. Laughing through the struggles of life is really what gets us through, and what makes McDonagh’s films unique treats. McDonagh, along with his excellent cast, has delivered yet another film that shines a light on what it truly means to be a flawed human, Molotov cocktails and all. Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird December 1, 2017 Lady Bird just might be the film from 2017 that I can relate to most, and I don’t think that’s because the other great films of the year are about replicants, strange Hollywood actors, and murderous mothers. Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson, played to perfection by Saoirse Ronan, was a surrogate for me to revisit my late high school years and to reexamine the relationships that I had with friends, and most importantly, my mother. I grew up without a present father, very unlike Lady Bird’s wonderful father Larry, (played by an overlooked Tracy Letts), but that’s where the differences end. While I didn’t go to a Catholic school, I grew up in a very Catholic household with a mother who made countless sacrifices to provide the very best possible for her children. Laurie Metcalf’s Marion, might as well have been my mother (although Marion is a bit more spunky and practical). Lady Bird’s coming of age is something I think all girls can relate to, but I found it particularly endearing. Gerwig’s writing of this film encapsulates so well the desire to be different and to break free from your family, only to later realize just how much your family means to you, and how little you know of their personal journeys. Childhood is a very selfish time. It’s easy to relate to the giggly friends, Lady Bird and Julie, eating non-consecrated wafers on an office floor, but Gerwig has a special gift with writing, in that it’s just as easy to relate to the beleaguered mother who just can’t say anything right when it comes to her daughter. Luckily, my relationship with my mother wasn’t nearly as contentious, but the tension was there all the same. All of the aforementioned, and those below, films are extremely rewatchable, but I know this film is going to be one I will share with my children someday. In a scene where Lady Bird is expressing a desire to be put on the Math Olympiad, she is reminded that she isn’t particularly strong in math. To which she replies, “That we know of, yet.” It is this tenacity and her eventual humility that brings such a wonderful role model to life. You never know if you’re truly great at something until you try...but Gerwig should wonder no further. James Franco’s The Disaster Artist December 8, 2017 You remember where you were the first time you saw Tommy Wiseau’s The Room . Hell, you remember where you were when you saw it for the tenth time. The Room almost needs no explanation at this point, (although for people who haven’t seen it, don’t get too excited or analytical about the titular room. As Tommy would say, “Don’t worry about it!”), but it’s affectionately referred to as: the worst movie of all time. So a film made about that film was bound to be a delight, and it obviously was. It doesn’t hurt that the core group of actors on The Disaster Artist have been pals and coworkers for years, and it’s even better that other A-list actors clamored out of the woodwork to have a bit role in this movie as well. All of the buzz about this film didn’t necessarily guarantee success; James Franco’s loving portrayal of Wiseau, and Dave Franco’s Greg Sestero, is what make the film a true homage. James absolutely embodies all of Wiseau’s strange affectations, whether that’s accenting strange syllables or laughing in odd situations. It’s all real human emotions! Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so biased going into this film, because looking back, it’s difficult for me to see any mistakes of consequence. I did find it odd that Judd Apatow was seemingly on a date when he was already married to Leslie Mann at the time...but I digress. With a character as interesting as Tommy Wiseau as your muse, it’d be difficult to fail making this film. Thanks to Franco, an entirely new generation gets to explore The Room for the first time, and once you’re in, there’s no getting out. Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: The Last Jedi December 15, 2017 While most people have a feverish admiration for the Star Wars saga, I have always simply just liked them. I’ve never outright disliked any of the installments, but my general feeling on the matter is if they decided to stop making them I wouldn’t necessarily be sad to see them go. No longer is this the case. Johnson’s latest addition to the Star Wars franchise was a Star War made for me. He took characters that could have been iterations of previous characters, and brought such cinematic depth to them that they have now become some of my favorite characters in any science-fantasy/science-fiction series to date. Johnson dared to say that even though you think you may be ordinary, you’re part of something so much greater, no matter which caste you belong to. And not only are the characters deeper, the cinematography and sets were completely jaw dropping. It’s not often you get such risky and innovative shots in a Star War. Sure, each of the films so far has had some beautiful and awe-inspiring shots (I don’t dispute that in the least), but Johnson’s Star War altered both the palate and palette of the series, and I pray future directors alter it further. So many scenes are worth mentioning, from the bomb-drop scene to Rey’s encounter with herself in the belly of the Dark Side, but the entire film pushed the boundaries of what one should expect in this franchise. Johnson took most, if not all expectations of this film, and shot them into hyperspace. It’s just the rejuvenation that I needed to be reminded of what this franchise can do. I also enjoyed its deep exploration of failure, and how not every heroic mission ends in success. This film moved me in ways I had no anticipation for. Truthfully, I wish Johnson was on the books for the foreseeable future, but alas, he’s only a phone call away for future directors to call on if need be. He burned the sacred texts, both metaphorically and physically, and I’m excited to see what comes next. Now, if you’re a film enthusiast who also happens to be even remotely good at counting, you’ll have noticed that I only have nine films for what is traditionally a “Top 10” list. I have seen a number of great films this year, but not one left on my list stood out to me in the overwhelming way this “top nine” have. I have also missed a number of films that I need to crunch before the Oscars in March. While contemplating the last spot, I was torn between choosing Mindhorn, The Little Hours, or The Big Sick because I’m always desperate for bizarre, uncharted comedies. I almost listed The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) or Columbus for their ability to dissect family algorithms and delicately highlight the failings of the generations ahead of us that we carry for our entire lives. Baby Driver and Thor: Ragnarok were great, fun rides but didn’t necessarily take me on a complete journey the way the other films had. I guess what I’m getting at is, we had a great year for cinema, and even the films that didn’t quite hit that top mark came awfully close. My tenth selection may be found in Call Me By Your Name, The Shape of Water, or Phantom Thread ...but that will be for another article. And this is why we film lovers return again and again to the silver screen: there’s always the next, great curtain call. Bernadette Gorman 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. #Newsletter #Article #BernadetteGorman #Top10 #Bestof #Bestof2017 #2017

The story has always gone that Disney’s 1992 Aladdin was my first cinematic experience. Upon realizing the celebration of its 25th anniversary this very November, I had to reconsider my math. Yet I clearly remember the trip to the theater, the color of the seats, and how watching the story of Agrabah unfold before my three-year-old eyes made me feel. Thanks to the period we know as the Disney Renaissance (1989-1999), many of my peers share my enthusiasm for Disney. Experiencing Disney films during that specific time and age was a magical thing. We had the luxury of disconnection, where watching a movie about adventure made us want to physically, not virtually, explore. Just like Aladdin, my friends and I went on many a treasure hunt. Like Jasmine, the walls of my home became the walls of the palace, a barrier between what I had and what I could have. Disney has a heck of a way of making an impression on a three-year-old. Even still, over the course of the past 25 years Aladdin has been a surreal touchstone in my life, and it changed the landscape of animated entertainment, as we knew it. Notably, one of the most influential outcomes of Aladdin’s production is the inclusion of top-billed actors among the voice-over acting community. While many characters in the Aladdin story are memorable and endearing, I find it would be difficult to argue that Genie isn’t the most loved and revered of them all. The role of Genie was specifically written for the talents of Robin Williams, and once Disney landed the famed comedian, the character grew even more so into the slapstick, improvised mentor he came to be. While Aladdin is not my favorite Disney film, (it’s in my top five), Williams’ Genie became a gateway into a history of comedy that even a three-year-old could begin to comprehend. Many of those praises can also be given unto the writers, undoubtedly, but having Williams perform multiple impersonations and bits throughout the film, gave the character a different intelligence and heart than what could have manifested in the hands (or vocal chords?) of any other. With each repeat viewing, there was another joke to be had, another punch line to which I was privy. And as with any VHS tape of the era, Aladdin was replayed constantly in my household, through moments of both sickness and health. When Genie said you, “never had a friend like [him],” he meant it. Building off of Williams’ bravado, Aladdin is teeming with other delightful and intelligent characters. Aladdin’s specific character teaches the lesson: that if you aspire to something greater than what society has deemed you worthy of, you can achieve that goal through honesty and bravery. Although it does take him through trial and error to get him there, Aladdin does stress that respect and patience are key to maturing past childish wants. As a child also needing to learn lessons of maturity and patience, (my first sibling was born in 1991, and Aladdin almost marked the anniversary of my first year of older sisterhood), subconsciously learning through animation was an important tool in my development. Aladdin’s pet monkey, Abu, can be seen as the id of Aladdin, influencing Aladdin to take what he wants, when he wants it. He’s an adorable companion, but it becomes quite clear as one’s understanding of the film deepens, that learning to think past one’s own inner Abu is the first step to maturing past childish wants. This knowledge grants a deeper foothold into proper societal etiquette. And it’s not to say that Abu doesn’t necessarily act out of Aladdin’s best interests as a whole, (the id does operate in a realm of love and preservation of the owner), but his base operation is one of childish desire. Aladdin’s introduction to Genie is, essentially, his first realization of the super-ego. Meeting Jasmine, confronting Jafar, and looking past simple day-to-day survival, is what sets Aladdin on his path to maturity. Genie becomes his hilarious conscience, holding him to higher moral standards than simply feeding the desires of his id. Of course he has to operate as an actual genie as well to fit the grander plot of the story, so he is held accountable to initially granting Aladdin’s self-serving wishes. Aladdin is a cunning swindler – after living for years as what others see as a “street rat,” – he even cons himself a free first wish out of the deal to free himself from the pit of his own (Abu’s - id’s) morality. His technical “first” wish is to be made a prince, to better his chances at winning Jasmine’s hand in marriage. At this point, he is still in the dark on the importance of honesty. His “second” wish is to be saved from drowning after Jafar’s attempt to thwart him. He’s beginning to see that there may be a greater importance of saving Jasmine from Jafar’s intended plan; however, he’s still mostly looking out for number one. Luckily, his “second” wish grants him the ability to return to the palace, just in the nick of time to vanquish the true villain of the film: his own selfishness. Upon returning to the palace, Aladdin is confronted by the promise he had made: to selflessly release Genie from his shackles of genie-dom. When he chooses instead to act in his own self-interest and save his last wish in case he needs it in the future, Genie reminds Aladdin that he has only gotten this far on lies and deceit. Disappointed, the super-ego brings guilt upon Aladdin and makes him ruminate on the choices he has made, to enter the adult portion of his life. While he is confronting his own morality, Jafar manages to bogart the genie for himself, to move in on Jasmine. He manages to wish himself into the position of reigning Sultan, and then again, into the most powerful sorcerer on the planet. When Aladdin tricks him into wishing himself into an even more powerful being, a genie himself, Jafar becomes shackled to his own magic lamp and is vanquished. As a child, this seems like the climax of the film. But it’s when Aladdin finally learns to stay true to himself – by not wishing himself into a prince to secure Jasmine’s hand and instead wishing for Genie’s freedom – that he masters the ego. At this point he can balance his wants and desires, along with his duty to morality and maturity. And for the first time, Aladdin completely truly values Jasmine’s honest opinion of him, no matter what may come. Although less complex, Jasmine’s own struggles mirror Aladdin’s progress in striving to become more than what society deems fit. Even though it is law for Jasmine to marry a prince, the wealth and fame of royal society do nothing to warm her heart. She longs to be free of her own societal chains and would much rather find someone to love who is good and honest. Aladdin’s initial charms, executed at first as homeless Aladdin, and then secondly through the facade of Prince Ali, are incredibly convincing and alluring watching them through the eyes of a boy-crazy toddler/youth. They turn suddenly sour as age wises up a teen viewer to the concept of players and scrubs. (In this case, “Hangin’ from the passenger side of his best friend’s ride,” is akin to deceitful magic carpet rides.) Although Jafar’s intentions to unveil Aladdin as his true self are self-serving, they do change Aladdin for the better, making him confront his own truth, also removing the obstacle in Jasmine and Aladdin’s chance at love. Jasmine, while undermined at times by others’ lies, does remain true to herself and her standards for the duration of the film. And that, for a young girl to witness, is probably the most magical takeaway of all. The lessons taught in Aladdin , can be found scattered throughout most great animated and children’s films, especially in the Disney archives, but I think it’s been said you never forget your first. Even 1994’s, The Return of Jafar and 1996’s, Aladdin and the King of Thieves , hold a special place in my heart. As I got older, Aladdin continued to resurface, most likely due to its relevance and influence on my generation. Even in college, a group of like-minded Disney fans would take time out of their typical drunken frat-party behavior on a Friday evening to devote an hour to belting out the likes of “Prince Ali,” “A Whole New World,” and other Disney classics such as, “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” (1998’s Mulan ) and “Kiss the Girl” (1989’s The Little Mermaid ). And in 2014 when we lost Robin Williams, well, it really did feel like we were losing that friend, the one like no other. I’m sure Aladdin can, and will continue to, dazzle children and adults alike for years to come. But I just consider myself one lucky diamond in the rough to have experienced it when and where I did. In 2019, Disney will release Guy Ritchie’s live-action Aladdin with Will Smith at the helm as Genie. He’s sure got one big lamp to fill. As Disney moves into this wave of live-action remakes, it’s easy to compare the present to the past. But as we’ve seen with The Jungle Book and Beauty and the Beast , these new interpretations are their own, paying homage to the past but becoming whole new films. After all, Aladdin’s old enough to rent a car now, soaring, tumbling, freewheeling. Happy 25th birthday Aladdin ; I’ll make sure to come on down, stop on by, hop a carpet and fly to another Arabian night. Bernadette Gorman 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. #Newsletter #Article #BernadetteGorman #Aladdin #25thAnniversary #AWholeNewWorld #Disney #November2017