TV Review: DTF St. Louis
cherry valley forever
Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Cosimo Galluzzi
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trying on a metaphor

★
$LAYYYTER
Claire Keane

Love Begins
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KIROKAZE

JVL
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TV Review: DTF St. Louis
Movie Review: Michael
TV Review: Euphoria
TV Review: Sunny Nights
The premise is where Sunny Nights really hooks you. Martin and Vicki Marvin, an American brother-sister duo, relocate to Sydney with dreams of launching a spray tan business—hardly the most conventional path to success. But what begins as a quirky entrepreneurial adventure quickly spirals into something much messier. They find themselves entangled with all the wrong people, constantly walking a tightrope between staying alive, staying out of jail, and somehow staying in the black financially. It’s this collision of small-time ambition and increasingly high-stakes trouble that gives the show its unique flavor.
The series leans beautifully into that tension: one moment you’re watching them hustle for clients in a sun-soaked Australian setting, and the next they’re scrambling to clean up a situation that has gotten wildly out of hand. It’s equal parts fish-out-of-water comedy and low-level crime caper, and the tonal balance is handled with impressive confidence.
At the center of it all is the chemistry between Forte and Carden, which is nothing short of terrific. Their sibling dynamic feels authentic—messy, loyal, and often hilarious. They bicker, they scheme, they make terrible decisions, but there’s always an underlying affection that keeps you invested. It’s that relationship that anchors the show, even when the plot veers into increasingly absurd territory.
The supporting characters are another major highlight. The world of Sunny Nights is populated with eccentric, unpredictable personalities—many of whom are exactly the kind of “wrong people” the Marvin siblings should probably avoid. Instead, they’re drawn deeper into this orbit, and the result is a rich, comedic ensemble that adds depth and unpredictability to every episode.
What’s most surprising—and a bit frustrating—is how little marketing attention Sunny Nights seems to have received. It’s the kind of show that could easily build a passionate following, but many viewers may never even hear about it. That’s a shame, because it’s genuinely one of the more fun, original series in recent memory.
At the end of the day, Sunny Nights is a wildly entertaining ride—sunny on the surface, chaotic underneath, and consistently engaging throughout. Here’s hoping more people discover it… and that a second season is on the horizon.
Verdict: A
Movie Review: One Battle After Another
Some films demand your attention. Others demand your patience. And then there are the rare few - like One Battle After Another - that quietly insist you come back to them.
I’ll admit, the first time I watched One Battle After Another, it didn’t fully resonate with me. I appreciated the craftsmanship, the performances, the ambition - but it didn’t quite land. However, after it took home the Academy Award for Best Picture, I felt compelled to revisit it. And I’m glad I did, because on second viewing, everything clicked in a way I didn’t expect.
Not only is this film excellent - it’s the kind of film that makes you question how you missed so much the first time around. It reveals itself layer by layer, rewarding patience and attention. This is not just a great movie; it’s a lasting one. The kind that will stand the test of time and be discussed for decades. A true once-in-a-generation picture.
Leonardo DiCaprio delivers a phenomenal performance as “Bob,” anchoring the film with a mix of vulnerability and quiet intensity. In almost any other year, his work here would have easily earned him the Oscar for Best Actor. It’s that good.
Sean Penn, as the unforgettable Colonial Lockjaw, was the standout for me even on first viewing. There was something undeniable about his performance—commanding, unpredictable, and deeply layered. I had a feeling he’d not only be nominated for Best Supporting Actor, but win. He did, and deservedly so.
Benicio del Toro gives one of those deceptively effortless performances - completely natural, yet incredibly precise. He makes it look easy, which is perhaps the highest compliment you can give an actor.
And then there’s Chase Infiniti as Willa - a true breakout. A welcome addition to the silver screen, bringing a fresh and compelling presence that hints at a very bright future.
Director Paul Thomas Anderson once again proves why he’s one of the most important filmmakers working today. This is a bold, layered, and deeply human film that rewards those willing to sit with it and revisit it.
Verdict: A+
Movie Review: Melania
The documentary Melania, directed by Brett Ratner, is a surprisingly compelling and polished look at the life and public role of Melania Trump during her time as First Lady. Whether viewers approach the film with admiration, skepticism, or simple curiosity, it is difficult to deny that the documentary succeeds as an engrossing piece of historical storytelling.
What makes Melania particularly effective is its extraordinary level of access. The film places viewers in spaces that are almost never seen by the public - quiet preparation rooms, back hallways, tense logistical moments before major appearances, and most memorably, the behind-the-scenes build-up to the inauguration. These sequences are fascinating to watch. Even if one suspects that much of the access was carefully staged or curated, the intimacy still works. The camera captures a rare sense of proximity to power and pageantry that most political documentaries never manage to achieve.
As a historical record of a First Lady, the film is impressively thorough. It frames Melania Trump as a bold humanitarian figure attempting to reshape what the role of First Lady can look like in the modern era. The documentary clearly leans into this narrative, presenting her initiatives and public work as part of a deliberate effort to reinvent the position. Whether viewers fully accept that framing is ultimately left up to them, but the film does make a persuasive case. By the end, the closing montage of her accomplishments reinforces the argument that she sought to define the role on her own terms.
One of the film’s most unusual elements is its musical choices. The opening credits blast into motion with Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones, an intense and gritty choice that immediately sets an unexpected tone. Almost immediately afterward, the film pivots to Billie Jean by Michael Jackson, a selection that initially feels oddly out of place until the documentary later reveals it is Melania’s favorite song.
But the most baffling and almost comical musical moment arrives during a scene in which Melania and Donald Trump move through the back corridors of a gala while And Then He Kissed Me by The Crystals plays. The sequence is clearly staged as an eerie homage to the famous tracking shot of Henry Hill and Karen Hill entering the Copacabana in Goodfellas. It’s a strange choice, almost surreal, but it’s also oddly memorable.
Despite these peculiar stylistic flourishes, the documentary remains consistently engaging. It is slickly assembled, visually confident, and undeniably fascinating as a behind-the-curtain look at a modern First Lady navigating global attention and political scrutiny.
Regardless of where viewers fall politically, Melania stands as a remarkably well-crafted documentary - one that captures both the mythology and machinery of the First Lady’s role with unusual access and cinematic flair.
Verdict: A+
Movie Review: The Bride!
Maggie Gyllenhaal’s Bride is not your typical Frankenstein story. Instead of retelling the familiar gothic tale in a traditional way, Gyllenhaal injects the film with an offbeat, punk-tinged sensibility that makes the whole thing feel rebellious, strange, and deliberately unconventional.
At the center of it all is Jessie Buckley as the Bride, and once again she proves why she is one of the best actors working in movies today. Buckley brings a wild, magnetic energy to the role, balancing vulnerability, menace, and dark humor in a way that makes the character completely her own. It’s the kind of performance that holds the movie together even when the narrative veers into its more chaotic corners.
Christian Bale does a solid job as the Monster, giving the character a worn, brooding presence that fits the film’s odd tone. While the movie clearly belongs to Buckley, Bale provides a strong counterbalance and helps ground some of the film’s stranger impulses.
Director Maggie Gyllenhaal deserves credit for assembling something genuinely unique. Bride is creative, stylish, and clearly the product of a filmmaker with a strong vision. That said, the film’s eccentric tone and willingness to play with genre expectations mean it definitely won’t be for everyone.
But if you’re willing to meet it on its own terms and take the whole thing a little tongue-in-cheek, Bride becomes a fun, anarchic romp that’s hard not to admire for its boldness.
Verdict: B+
Movie Review: Lies We Tell
Directed with quiet precision by Lisa Mulcahy, Lies We Tell (2023) is a haunting period drama that explores power, control, and the devastating cost of silence. Set in 19th-century Ireland, the film centers on Maud, a young heiress portrayed with striking restraint and vulnerability by Agnes O’Casey.
After the death of her parents, Maud comes under the guardianship of her uncle, played by David Wilmot. What begins as an arrangement meant to protect her inheritance quickly curdles into something far more sinister. Under the guise of propriety and concern, her uncle exerts increasing psychological and emotional control, using the rigid social and legal structures of the time to dominate her life, her choices, and ultimately her sense of self.
The film is deliberately paced, allowing tension to build not through spectacle but through atmosphere: long silences, watchful glances, and the ever-present weight of unspoken threat. Mulcahy’s direction refuses to sensationalize Maud’s suffering. Instead, it forces the viewer to sit with the discomfort of watching coercion unfold in small, insidious steps. This makes Lies We Tell difficult to watch at times—the brutality here is not loud, but suffocating. The cruelty lies in control, manipulation, and the slow erosion of autonomy, which can feel painfully intimate and real.
Yet despite its heaviness, this is a wonderful and deeply affecting story. It shines a light on how systems of power protect abusers and silence the vulnerable, while also honoring Maud’s quiet resilience. O’Casey’s performance anchors the film, conveying strength and terror in equal measure, and Wilmot is chilling in his understated menace.
Verdict: A
TV Review: Ponies
Ponies is, without question, the best new show of 2026 so far. Set against the tense backdrop of Cold War–era Moscow, the series follows two secretaries at the American embassy in the 1970s who become CIA operatives after their husbands are killed, uncovering a sprawling Cold War conspiracy behind the tragedy. It’s a sharp, high-stakes premise—and the show fully delivers on it.
An easy, highly watchable binge, Ponies keeps you guessing with smart twists, mounting tension, and genuinely exciting plot turns. Each episode peels back another layer of intrigue, balancing espionage thrills with character-driven storytelling that never feels rushed or overly complicated.
The chemistry between the two female leads is a major highlight. Emilia Clarke and Haley Lu Richardson are outstanding together, bringing warmth, grit, and emotional depth to a story rooted in loss, resilience, and unlikely transformation. Their dynamic grounds the series and makes the emotional beats land just as effectively as the suspense.
Stylish, engaging, and consistently compelling, Ponies feels confident from start to finish—and it absolutely deserves a season two. There’s plenty more story to tell, and this duo is more than capable of carrying it forward.
Verdict: A-
Movie Review: Hamnet
The story follows Agnes (Jessie Buckley) and Will Shakespeare (Paul Mescal) as they face the unimaginable: the death of their young son, Hamnet, to the plague. The film is at its strongest when it leans into that grief, showing two people—married, bound by love, but broken in different ways—trying to move forward when the world refuses to make sense. Their marriage becomes the emotional marrow of the film, and in that space, both Buckley and Mescal deliver outrageously powerful performances. Buckley is luminous in her pain, grounding Agnes with a fierce, aching clarity. Mescal’s Shakespeare is wonderfully human—flawed, frightened, brilliant, and overwhelmed by his own ambitions and failures.
Where Hamnet falters is pacing. The movie’s commitment to quietness, stillness, and atmospheric contemplation ends up working against it. Scenes stretch and stretch until the energy nearly evaporates, turning what could have been a searing experience into something that too often feels like a slog. The intent is there, and it’s admirable, but the execution is uneven.
And yet… the final scene. It is not an exaggeration to say it is one of the most powerful endings I’ve ever seen on film. It hits like a tidal wave—emotionally honest, cinematically striking, and thematically perfect. It almost single-handedly elevates the entire project.
But in the end, I can’t shake the disappointment. I’m almost apologetic that I didn’t care for Hamnet as much as I hoped to. For all its towering ambition, stunning performances, and that unforgettable closing moment, the film’s persistent sluggishness keeps it from becoming the masterpiece it could have been.
Verdict: C+
Movie Review: If I Had Legs I’d Kick You
If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is a jittery, tightly wound dark comedy-drama that lives in a constant state of emotional flight-or-fight. The film follows a woman spiraling through a series of increasingly chaotic personal and professional crises, each scene stitched together with rapid pacing, abrupt tonal shifts, and a lingering sense of dread. The premise is compelling—using her frantic day as a metaphor for modern overstimulation and the impossibility of ever feeling “caught up”—but the execution often reaches further than it can fully grasp.
The movie stacks metaphor on metaphor, clearly aiming for layered thematic resonance. Unfortunately, many of those metaphors land only halfway: evocative, interesting, but too vague to ground the film’s deeper intentions. The anxiety is palpable, the energy relentless, and while that’s clearly the design, it leaves the overall experience feeling more exhausting than enlightening.
Despite its unevenness, the movie has one utterly undeniable strength: Rose Byrne. She is truly phenomenal here—sharp, vulnerable, funny, and heartbreakingly human. Byrne has long been a consistently wonderful actress, but this might genuinely be her best performance to date. She brings clarity and emotional intelligence to scenes that might otherwise collapse under the film’s frantic rhythm.
In the end, If I Had Legs I’d Kick You is a fair movie—far from great, but far from skippable. It’s messy, ambitious, and often frustrating, but Byrne’s performance alone makes it worth the watch, even if the film around her can’t always keep its footing.
Verdict: C-
Movie Review: Nouvelle Vague
Nouvelle Vague isn’t merely one of the strongest cinematic releases of 2025—it’s a towering achievement that has firmly cemented itself in my Top 3 movies of the year so far, and it comes so close to breaking into my almost impenetrable Top 25 movies of all time that I practically have to have an existential reckoning about it.
The film centers on Jean Seberg, the brilliant young American actress who played the lead in Breathless. Rather than focusing exclusively on the iconic film itself, Nouvelle Vague explores Seberg’s emotional landscape during the chaotic and unconventional production. Her frustration with Jean-Luc Godard is vividly rendered—not as melodrama, but as a tense blend of awe, confusion, admiration, and exasperation. Godard’s improvisational, nonlinear style—rewriting and reshaping scenes on-the-fly—threw the crew, confounded the producers, and left Seberg searching for stability in a creative whirlwind.
What the film captures with remarkable clarity is that Godard’s approach, while maddening to those around him, was completely unprecedented and ultimately revolutionary, influencing filmmaking around the world for generations. The storytelling here doesn’t mythologize him—it presents him honestly, as a man discovering an entirely new cinematic language before anyone realized its vocabulary.
The film’s jazz score is a masterstroke. Jazz, with its spontaneous rhythms and improvisational nature, becomes a metaphor for Godard’s filmmaking. The music pulses, veers, and shifts in tempo just like his shooting style—mirroring both the exhilaration and the disorientation that Seberg experiences.
And yes, I’m the first to admit: I’m a sucker for this kind of filmmaking. I love the experimental, the nonlinear, the daring. So perhaps I was predisposed to fall for Nouvelle Vague. But predisposition or not, what unfolds on screen is a deeply compelling, beautifully executed cinematic experience.
This is not just a biographical drama—it’s a meditation on art, authenticity, chaos, influence, and the cost of innovation.
Verdict: A+ — a truly wonderful cinematic piece.
Movie Review: Sentimental Value
Sentimental Value arrives in 2025 with a thoughtful premise—an exploration of how the objects we cling to can tether us emotionally to people, places, and chapters of our lives we’ve never fully processed. It’s a film rooted in memory, longing, and the deceptively simple question of why we keep the things we keep.
There’s no denying that the movie is encapsulating; it pulls you into its quiet world and gives its characters space to unravel emotionally. The narrative is well-crafted, shaped with care, and it delivers a rare cinematic intimacy. You feel the pulse of nostalgia throughout, and the story understands the sentimental power of the physical things that shape our inner worlds.
But for all its strengths, Sentimental Value struggles to fully “get there.” The ideas are rich, the message is clear, but the follow-through isn’t. Moments that seem poised to land with profound emotional force end up coming off muted, more hinted at than truly delivered. The film feels one perfect scene short of its intended impact. You can see what it’s trying to say and appreciate the intention, even while wishing its emotional payoff were sharper, stronger, and more deeply felt.
In the end, Sentimental Value is a good film with a great premise—one that captures attention, holds it gently, and almost brings its message home. It gets close to greatness, but not quite all the way there. A solid effort, worth seeing, but ultimately one that leaves you thinking more about what it could have been than what it actually achieves.
Final Grade: B-
Movie Review: Jay Kelly
Noah Baumbach’s Jay Kelly arrives on Netflix like a late-career meditation wrapped in a gorgeously filmed travelogue. Starring George Clooney and Adam Sandler, the movie tells the story of a legendary Hollywood actor setting out on a trip to Italy to receive a career tribute—only to find the journey turning inward as he reexamines the choices, compromises, relationships, and sacrifices that defined his life.
Clooney plays Jay Kelly, and the alliteration of J-K and G-C is impossible to ignore. There’s an unmistakable meta quality here: Clooney, the Hollywood icon, playing a Hollywood icon reflecting on a lifetime in the spotlight. It’s not hard to feel that Clooney is, at least in part, reflecting on his own remarkable run—one of the screen’s most charismatic leading men now confronting age, legacy, and identity.
The film is at its best when Baumbach allows Clooney to sit in silence, absorbing a lifetime of regret and accomplishment with nothing but his face and the Italian landscape to do the heavy lifting. Clooney truly delivers here—so fully and so quietly occupying the emotional weight of the story that his performance feels like a culmination of his career. It would be surprising if he doesn’t receive an Oscar nod for this role.
Adam Sandler, playing Jay’s longtime friend and collaborator, is solid—but surprisingly muted. Sandler is known for going all in whether in comedy or drama, but here, some of his line deliveries feel strangely flat. In several beautifully written scenes, Sandler doesn’t land the emotional punch the screenplay sets up. The words are luminous, aching, rich with meaning—yet the delivery sometimes undercuts them. It’s not a bad performance, just one that could have been more, especially given Sandler’s usual dramatic range.
Baumbach’s writing is sharp and introspective, and there are moments where the film brushes against greatness. But a handful of crucial scenes lack the power they clearly were aiming for. With just a bit more emotional force, especially in those key exchanges between Clooney and Sandler, Jay Kelly might have become a masterpiece.
Still, the film is resonant, beautifully photographed, and anchored by a Clooney performance that reminds us why he’s one of the greatest actors of his generation.
Verdict: B — A thoughtful, compelling film that falls short of perfection, but remains well worth the watch.
TV Review: The Big C
I didn’t watch The Big C when it originally aired, but discovering it now on Netflix has been one of the most pleasant—and emotionally riveting—surprises I’ve had in years of television watching. This series is easily one of the best shows I’ve ever seen, and I’m convinced it’s about to find the new, devoted audience it always deserved.
At the center of it all is Laura Linney, who is nothing short of extraordinary in the lead role of Cathy. With every scene, every quiet moment, every burst of humor, and each aching emotional beat, she reminds us why she is truly an American treasure. Her performance is layered, believable, heartbreaking, and often inspiring—one of those rare portrayals that stays with you long after the credits roll.
Opposite her, Oliver Platt is absolutely tremendous as Paul, Cathy’s husband. He brings depth, warmth, and humor to a character who could have been overshadowed, but never is. Platt proves he’s a far more versatile actor than Hollywood often gives him credit for, and watching him here makes you wonder why he isn’t cast in far more roles.
The Big C is an emotional roller coaster in the best possible way. Every episode delivers—mixing humor with heartbreak, joy with sorrow, the ordinary with the extraordinary. By the time the show reaches its final moments, it has earned every tear, every laugh, and every moment of catharsis.
If you’re looking for something meaningful, human, bold, and beautifully acted, this show will absolutely deliver. Stream it on Netflix—The Big C deserves to be discovered all over again.
Final Verdict: A+
Movie Review: Train Dreams (2025)
Train Dreams is a quietly powerful film that unfolds with the kind of patience and confidence rarely seen in modern streaming releases. Anchored by what is easily the definitive performance of Joel Edgerton’s career to date, this Netflix original is an encapsulating portrait of a man driven by love, fear, and the instinct to protect the fragile world he’s built for his family.
Edgerton brings a rugged emotional clarity to the role, portraying a man whose life revolves around providing for and safeguarding those he loves. His performance is understated yet deeply affecting, pulling you into his character’s inner battles without ever needing to overplay them.
The cinematography is another standout, capturing vast landscapes and intimate moments with equal elegance. There’s a quiet poetry in the visuals—a sense that every frame is in conversation with the themes of labor, survival, and devotion. The direction complements this beautifully, with a slowly spooling pace that gives the story room to breathe and gives the audience time to settle into the rhythms of the character’s life. Rather than pushing you forward, the film draws you inward.
While the deliberate pacing may feel slow for some, it ultimately strengthens the film’s emotional resonance. Train Dreams lingers—both in tone and in the thoughts it stirs—and it’s a movie that will stay with you long after the credits roll.
Verdict: B
A compelling, contemplative drama elevated by a career-best performance from Edgerton.
Movie Review: Good Fortune (2025)
Good Fortune is one of those rare studio comedies that feels both refreshingly modern and delightfully retro—like something you might have discovered on cable in the late ’80s and then quoted with your friends for years. Written and directed by Aziz Ansari, the film leans into the classic “life-swapping lesson” trope but adds a clever twist: what if the person forced to appreciate their own life discovers the other life is actually better… and wants to stay there?
At the center of it all is the film’s remarkable trio: Ansari, Seth Rogen, and Keanu Reeves, who share an unexpectedly warm, goofy, and effortless chemistry. Their dynamic is so enjoyable that even the movie’s quieter moments carry a spark of electricity.
Keanu Reeves is the standout, playing a novice angel with an endearing mix of seriousness and wide-eyed confusion. It’s one of his funniest performances in years, and he fully commits to the bit without ever winking at the camera.
Ansari and Rogen balance each other well, too—Ansari with his trademark anxious precision, Rogen with his big-hearted, laid-back presence. Together, the three of them deliver a movie filled with genuine laugh-out-loud moments, surprising emotional beats, and a story that never feels predictable despite the familiar premise.
While not a perfect film—its plotting is a touch loose and it sometimes coasts on charm more than narrative heft—Good Fortune succeeds because it knows exactly what it wants to be: a fun, clever, slightly offbeat comedy with heart. And in that sense, it absolutely delivers.
Verdict: B+
A unique throwback with modern sensibilities, Good Fortune is simply a good time.