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SACRUM VINDICTAE II enters with the swagger of a revenge thriller that promises high-stakes drama, polish, and thematic weight. Instead, it delivers a fragmented showcase of potential, where moments of visual ambition and narrative intrigue collapse under the weight of underdeveloped characters, half-formed ideas, and emotional detachment. It isn’t without its redeeming qualities, but they’re buried beneath a surface-level commitment to style over cohesion.

DIRTY COP doesn’t waste time. With a runtime just under 20 minutes, it aims to pack a gritty, character-driven drama into a tight window—just enough space to introduce a man on the edge and suggest a whole world of consequences without being able to explore any of them fully. Directed by Elena Maria Dell Aguzzo and written by Fabian Farina, the short features Farina in the lead alongside Sarah Maria Paul and Staci Dickerson. It carries a familiar genre energy—corrupt law enforcement, internal chaos, a system that erodes the soul—but approaches it with the rawness of an indie short.

There’s a difference between pulling back the curtain and being the one stepping behind it. BONO: STORIES OF SURRENDER never quite decides what it’s doing. It sells itself as stripped down, honest, even disarmingly human. But what unfolds is a performance built from the bones of self-awareness, carefully choreographed vulnerability, and just enough mischief to keep the illusion of spontaneity intact. It’s like watching someone audition for the role of themselves—and in many ways, that’s exactly what this is.

If THE BETTER SISTER proves anything, it may be that blood is thicker than water, but it also stains deeper. Based on Alafair Burke’s novel, this eight-part limited series is the kind of domestic thriller that wraps you in familiar genre pacing and slips something sharp beneath the surface. It’s a story about guilt, control, and survival—but more than anything, it’s about the complicated connection of sisterhood, where old wounds rarely heal in a straight line.

There’s a rare comfort in stories that don’t feel obligated to shout over the noise. This one doesn’t rely on heavy drama—it simply shifts the focus to the quiet disruptions that gradually alter the tempo of a person’s life. What begins as a seemingly innocuous decision becomes the foundation for a story that’s more introspective than explosive. It unfolds with care, following a middle-aged man whose curiosity steers him toward a place he didn’t know he needed.

When the screeners for the first two episodes of the new season of PHINEAS AND FERB landed in my inbox, I realized something embarrassing—I’d never seen a single episode. Not out of disinterest, just one of those pop culture moments that had slipped through the cracks. But if I was going to weigh in on the revival, I figured I’d do it right. So I hit play on season one… and didn’t stop until I binged the original series. All 104 days of summer. All the ridiculous inventions. All the thwarted schemes. Through to the final curtain call. (This was quite the process, but it was a blast!)

When creative ambition meets the emotional baggage that no studio could balance, things will get complicated. KID doesn’t just acknowledge this—it builds its entire story around it. This grounded, sometimes heavy, sometimes tender indie project explores the reality behind all those “follow your dream” slogans: the mess, the exhaustion, and the emotional trade-offs required when your home life constantly conflicts with your passion. It’s not aiming for grandeur. Instead, it zeroes in on the grind, the intimacy of closed spaces, and the slow burn of personal pressure.

Before social media turned every garage band into a brand, there were music scenes built off word-of-mouth and whoever showed up with an instrument—or a camera. IT’S ALL GONNA BREAK opens a door to that moment, where collaboration wasn’t content and success wasn’t the goal. It’s not a typical music documentary and doesn’t try to be. Instead, it captures what it feels like to be in the middle of something you don’t yet realize matters—until it’s gone.

THE SECOND BEST HOSPITAL IN THE GALAXY – SEASON 2 continues to thrive on contradictions: hilarious but heartbreaking, strange but surprisingly grounded. It doesn’t try to be everything for everyone, but instead leans into its boldness, using absurdist sci-fi as a launchpad for emotional exploration. The result? A season that often feels as if it was written during a sugar rush and edited during a midlife crisis—but that’s exactly where its strength lies.

PRETTY BOY brings a chaotic blend of nostalgia and brutality, continuing its story where the previous entry, BLIND, left off. It’s a sequel that doesn’t waste time on introductions or buildup (you get pretty much everything you need in the opening credits, although BLIND is a fun watch as well!)—opting for a sharp detour into genre territory, complete with lavish parties, and more exaggerated characters. The energy is there, and the style shows confidence, but the film wavers a bit between its blood-soaked intentions and psychological aspirations.

Kicking things off with the energy of a bar fight and the tact of a bowling alley brawl, this one doesn’t pretend to play by the rules. What first seems like a mess of juvenile jokes and chaotic detours slowly reveals something more deliberate beneath the surface. The comedy keeps swinging, but between the slapstick and absurdity, a weird sincerity pulls you closer. It’s the story where every bad choice adds to the wreckage—and somehow, the wreckage holds.

Plenty of sequels fall flat trying to recapture old magic, but occasionally, one finds a way to evolve without losing its voice. This follow-up doesn't just revisit what worked—it amplifies it, takes bolder swings, and delivers more than a few memorable moments. It isn’t perfect, but it leaves a strong impression to justify the return.

Chaos isn’t always a flaw in storytelling—it can be a calculated force to reflect something bigger than character arcs or plotlines. This film embraces that disorder and makes it the foundation of its core. A story of survival set in a broken landscape, where logic has long since vanished and morality is treated like a luxury, not a necessity. What begins as a search for a missing child quickly spirals into a confrontation with the ugliest corners of human behavior, framed by a world where violence is routine and compassion barely flickers.

This one is compelling not because it desires to tie things up neatly but insists on sitting with uncertainty. Its honesty is beautiful, even when the storytelling doesn’t always land. It works best when it reflects on cultural fractures and personal transformation, creating something that resonates long after the final scene.