Chris Jones
Entertainment Editor
Chris Jones, from Washington, Illinois, is the Mail Entertainment Editor covering Movies, Television, Books, and Music topics. He is the owner, writer, and editor of Overly Honest Reviews.
There’s no easing into MAN EATING PUSSY, and honestly, that’s the point. The title alone sets very clear expectations that we’re going in a very specific direction, but what the film actually delivers isn’t just shock value or empty provocation. It’s something far more controlled, far more deliberate, and surprisingly, far more thoughtful than most would assume going in. This is a film that knows exactly how it’s going to be perceived and leans into that perception just enough to disarm you before revealing what it’s actually going to do to you!
There’s a vibe that BIRTH IS FOR P*SSIES isn’t interested in easing anyone in. It drops you into the deep end alongside its protagonist. It expects you to keep up not just with the pacing, but also with the unpredictability of what it means to be responsible for someone else when they are at their most vulnerable. That choice pays off, because the pilot doesn’t waste much time explaining itself. It trusts you to find your footing!
Margo is broke, overwhelmed, and running out of options, and MARGO’S GOT MONEY TROUBLES dives headfirst into her world, exposing what happens when desperation isn’t rescued by aspiration. It drops you into a situation where survival comes first, and everything else, morality, identity, and long-term consequences, has to catch up. The series builds around that execution, and every choice Margo makes comes back to it.
THE BIRTHDAY GIFT doesn’t feel like a short film trying to tell a complete story; it feels like a moment that’s been pulled out of something much larger, something personal and devastating. In just 16 minutes, it isn’t chasing complexity or scale, it’s chasing truth. And what makes it work is how you can feel the intent behind every decision. This isn’t just about what happens at the table; it’s about what’s been lingering in that room long before anyone walked in.
ROMANCING IN THIN AIR is a surprisingly sincere and emotionally layered romantic drama from director Johnnie To, a filmmaker widely known for crime thrillers rather than introspective love stories. What initially presents itself as a story revolving around a broken man meeting a grieving woman in an isolated setting that gradually shifts into something more reflective, even meta in some ways, about grief, healing, and the illusions we build around love.
AMRUM is a quiet, observational coming-of-age story that focuses not on the spectacle of war but on the ideological and emotional fallout experienced far from the front lines. Set in the final days of World War II on a remote German island, the film follows a young boy, Nanning (Jasper Billerbeck), as he navigates a world shifting beneath his feet, without understanding the depths of the reason why.
HIDDEN ASSETS: Series 3 continues to build on the show’s established identity as a cross-border crime drama that prioritizes financial crime, institutional corruption, and procedural realism over conventional action-driven storytelling. While the core structure remains familiar, this season expands its scope geographically and thematically, pushing the narrative into a broader international framework without losing the grounded tone that defines the series. I know that may not sound very exciting, but at its core, the series' simplicity is what holds it together.
There’s never, not even for a second, any confusion about what kind of movie this is, and that ends up being both its biggest strength and its biggest limitation. THE STÖNED AGE doesn’t pretend to be anything beyond a chaotic, often crude snapshot of a very specific kind of coming-of-age teenage experience, and whether that hits home with you or completely falls apart depends almost entirely on how much patience you have for its characters and tone. I think the most important thing here is whether this is a type of film made for you. If you’re not sure, then it’s probably not.
SOLDIER wastes no time telling you what kind of story it is, then proves it has more going on beneath that surface than it initially lets on. This isn’t a film interested in complexity for the sake of sounding important. It’s built on a premise, executed with discipline, and anchored entirely by a performance that understands restraint better than most action films ever attempt.
A film student picks up a discarded USB drive and finds herself chasing the legacy of a forgotten Italian horror director, but CITY WIDE FEVER isn’t really about solving that mystery. It’s about what happens when someone starts treating movies like a map of reality and keeps following them long after they stop making sense. From the start, the film positions obsession as the driving force, not logic, and everything that follows builds off that choice.
A family moves to Vancouver Island hoping for a reset, but BLUE HERON makes it clear pretty quickly that geography doesn’t fix what’s already fractured. Writer/director Sophy Romvari builds this story through the perspective of a child who doesn’t grasp how to explain what’s going wrong around her, which forces the film to communicate through behavior, silence, and the shifts in how people exist in the same space. It’s not interested in spelling things out, and that decision shapes everything that follows.
OVER THE GARDEN WALL never tries to rely on scale, spectacle, or complexity to leave an impact. It succeeds because it understands exactly how much story it needs to tell, and more importantly, how to tell it without wasting a moment. Across its ten short episodes, it builds something that feels simple, only to reveal a level of emotional and thematic depth that most full-length series never reach.
INNERSPACE is built on a concept so inherently ridiculous that it almost dares itself to fail, and yet, against all odds, it manages to turn that into something consistently entertaining and overcome itself over and over. This is the kind of high-concept storytelling that feels like it could only come out of a very specific era, when studios were willing to take risks on strange ideas, lean into them, and trust that the combination of talent and creativity would carry them across the finish line.
GRACE, both the film and the character, never ask for sympathy, and that’s why it's as strong as it is. This is a story rooted in something more uncomfortable than a surface-level struggle; it’s about what happens when the people closest to you believe they know what’s best, even when it comes at the cost of your autonomy. From the very beginning, the film positions its lead not as someone who needs protection, but as someone who is constantly denied the right to define her own life.
A blind woman regains her sight, only to realize that what she’s seeing doesn’t belong to the living. THE EYE has a premise that immediately hooks you, not because it’s complicated, but because it’s effective and focused. The idea alone carries a lot of weight, and for a good portion of the film, that’s enough to keep everything locked in.