Primetime Review

Studio: A24

Release Date: September 25, 2026

Runtime: 1h 49m

Director: Lance Oppenheim

A Difficult Subject

Some movies are difficult to watch because they’re disturbing. Others are difficult because you’re not entirely convinced the story needed to be told this way. Primetime left me somewhere between the two.

Going into the film, I deliberately hadn’t done much research. I’d never actually watched To Catch a Predator, although I was familiar with Chris Hansen and the show’s premise. What I didn’t realize was that Primetime wasn’t so much a biopic about Hansen’s life as it was a dramatization of the controversial television phenomenon he helped create.

Once that became clear, I knew this wouldn’t be a particularly comfortable experience. And it wasn’t.

At its core, the film revolves around adults attempting to sexually exploit minors, an absolutely reprehensible form of criminal behavior that deserves to be confronted and taken seriously. There’s no entertaining way to sugarcoat that reality, nor should there be.

My issue with Primetime wasn’t that it made me uncomfortable. A subject like this should. My issue was that the film never consistently gave me enough to make it feel worthy of a full-length film.

When the Cameras Roll, Things Get Interesting

Directed by Lance Oppenheim, Primetime takes us behind the scenes of To Catch a Predator, where Hansen and his production team conduct sting operations targeting adults who believe they’re meeting underage children.

These confrontations are easily among the film’s most engaging sequences.

Watching the predators scramble for excuses once they realize they’ve been caught creates the movies most tense moments. Their sudden inability to explain their intentions is astonishing to watch. The satisfaction comes from seeing this behavior exposed, although the disturbing circumstances surrounding these encounters never disappear.

Robert Pattinson Commands the Screen, but Decoy Dan Steals the Show

Robert Pattinson delivers another excellent performance, portraying Chris Hansen with an almost relentless energy. His version of Hansen is charismatic, ambitious, and increasingly consumed by the success of his television program.

Pattinson knows exactly how to make a character command a room.

However, my favorite performance belongs to Skyler Gisondo as Dan Plumb, better known as “Decoy Dan.”

Dan is an aspiring actor hoping to establish himself in the industry. Instead, he finds himself participating in sting operations, pretending to be a minor while dealing with situations considerably more unsettling than anything he could have anticipated.

Talk about an unconventional way to build your acting résumé.

What makes Dan so compelling is how unprepared he initially seems. He’s nervous, inexperienced, and visibly surprised by what the job actually involves. Watching him gradually adjust to this bizarre environment gives the film a character arc I found far more engaging than Hansen’s.

Gisondo brings a likable awkwardness to the role without undermining the seriousness of the situation. His character feels genuine, and beneath all the uncomfortable circumstances is someone simply trying to make something of himself.

You want Dan to succeed. You want him to find his footing as an actor. More importantly, you want him to get through this experience without losing the decency that makes him so easy to root for.

For a movie centered on one of television’s most recognizable personalities, it’s the inexperienced actor standing beside him who leaves the strongest impression.

Strong Filmmaking, but Something Still Feels Missing

Visually, Primetime is well done.

The cinematography captures the atmosphere of mid-2000s television while giving the behind-the-scenes operations a distinct, occasionally unsettling personality. The camerawork and production choices make these environments feel authentic, particularly when the film moves between polished television broadcasts and the chaos happening outside the frame.

Yet despite those strengths, I never felt completely invested in the bigger picture.

The film also explores Hansen’s personal life, including an especially unflattering portrayal of his marriage. These elements have understandably generated controversy, particularly because the movie draws inspiration from real people and events.

What we see is the filmmakers’ interpretation of Hansen, not necessarily a factual account of his private life.

Within the movie itself, these personal conflicts add another layer to Pattinson’s character, but they didn’t make his journey substantially more compelling for me.

I kept waiting for something beyond the increasingly uncomfortable sting operations and Hansen’s growing obsession with television success. Something that would make the story click and justify why this particular chapter deserved a feature-length dramatization.

That moment rarely arrived.

A Disturbing Conclusion That Carries Real Weight

Without spoiling the ending, Primetime eventually reaches a shocking conclusion inspired by a real-life situation.

It’s easily one of the film’s most impactful moments, and a development that completely caught me off guard.

What makes the conclusion particularly unsettling is the reminder that behind these television productions were real people, real investigations, and consequences that extended far beyond what audiences saw on their screens.

In fact, I wish the movie had examined them more deeply throughout its runtime rather than saving so much of its emotional weight for the conclusion.

Because when Primetime finally confronts the consequences of turning criminal investigations into television entertainment, it becomes a much more interesting film.

I just wish there was more of it.

The Verdict — Is Primetime Worth Your Time?

Primetime isn’t a bad movie. Robert Pattinson is excellent, Skyler Gisondo nearly steals the entire production, and the cinematography gives the film a strong visual identity.

I was never outright bored, either. There are engaging sequences, uncomfortable confrontations, and an ending that will absolutely leave viewers with something to think about.

But when everything was said and done, I walked away feeling that the movie was just OK.

And perhaps my biggest criticism is that I’m still not entirely convinced this story needed to become a movie.

That’s not to suggest the subject itself lacks importance. The sexual exploitation of minors is a horrific reality that deserves awareness, investigation, and serious consequences for those responsible. But the importance of a subject doesn’t automatically translate to a movie that needed to be made.

For me, Primetime never quite bridges that gap.

If you’re interested in the history of To Catch a Predator, the influence of sensationalized television, or simply want to see two strong performances from Pattinson and Gisondo, there’s certainly something here worth appreciating.

However, if you’re looking for a gripping psychological thriller that consistently makes the most of its disturbing subject matter, I can’t say this one fully delivers.

Primetime has the performances, the presentation, and moments of intensity. What it lacks is a story that kept me invested enough to feel that the entire experience was necessary.

Sometimes a movie can be well made, competently acted, and perfectly watchable without becoming something I’d go out of my way to recommend. Unfortunately, Primetime falls into that category.

Resident Evil Review

Studio: Columbia Pictures

Release Date: September 18, 2026

Runtime: 1h 34m

Director: Zach Cregger

Resident Evil Has Been With Me My Entire Life

I’ve been around Resident Evil for nearly my entire life — probably starting a little earlier than I should have.

My dad bought the original game, and I watched him play it when I was way too young to be watching anything involving zombies eating people inside a mansion. I can still picture that first-floor encounter where the zombie slowly turns its head and looks back at you.

Yeah. That one.

That thing lived rent-free in my childhood nightmares for a while.

Funny enough, somewhere along the way, being terrified turned into being fascinated. Horror eventually became one of my favorite genres, and Resident Evil became one of those franchises I simply never get tired of. Resident Evil 2, 4, and 7 are among my favorite horror games ever made, and Resident Evil Requiem is one of my favorite games of 2026.

So when another Resident Evil movie was announced, seeing it wasn’t much of a decision.

I was going.

This Movie Actually Understands What Playing Resident Evil Feels Like

It doesn’t take long to realize Zach Cregger’s Resident Evil isn’t interested in treating itself like some deadly serious prestige drama.

There are corny jokes. There are intentionally weird moments. There are scenes where you’ll probably think, “Yep, this is definitely Resident Evil.”

And I mean that as a compliment.

The movie is absolutely loaded with references to the games without feeling like someone is constantly elbowing you in the ribs asking, “Did you get that one?”

I won’t spoil most of them, because discovering them is half the fun. But moments like barely making it over a fence only for a dog to immediately come charging after you felt hilariously authentic. So did spotting a completely random green herb sitting inside an abandoned car on the highway.

Resident Evil fans know.

Of course there’s a green herb there.

But the movie goes beyond Easter eggs. It occasionally captures the actual feeling of playing these games.

First-person sequences, fumbling with a reload when you desperately need another bullet, running low on ammo at exactly the wrong time — there were scenes that felt dangerously close to watching one of my own Resident Evil playthroughs.

Which, for the record, usually involves me confidently wasting ammunition five minutes before realizing I desperately needed it.

That’s the kind of fan service I want. Don’t just show me something I recognize. Make me remember how the game feels.

Watching the Outbreak From the Wrong Side of the Gun

One of the movie’s smartest decisions is its perspective.

Resident Evil normally puts us in the boots of people who are ridiculously qualified to survive the apocalypse. Leon Kennedy isn’t exactly the guy I’d bet against when something with six eyeballs crawls out of a sewer.

This movie gives us something different.

We get to experience the nightmare much closer to a civilian’s perspective, watching an ordinary person’s night completely unravel as the outbreak gets worse and worse.

That change works.

Instead of wondering how our hero is going to destroy whatever nightmare comes through the door next, there’s genuine uncertainty about whether Bryan is remotely equipped to deal with any of this.

Austin Abrams sells that beautifully. He never suddenly transforms into an unstoppable action hero because the script needs him to. His reactions feel human, his comedic timing works, and most importantly, you actually want to see this poor dude survive his increasingly terrible evening.

It gives Resident Evil a slightly different flavor without losing what makes Resident Evil… Resident Evil.

Loud, Bloody and Constantly Moving

Once the movie gets rolling, it rarely gives you much time to settle in.

There’s action, suspense, creature horror, some well-timed jump scares, and enough mystery surrounding the outbreak to keep pulling you forward.

The cinematography deserves a lot of credit here too.

There are some gorgeous shots buried inside an otherwise extremely disgusting situation. Lighting, environments, creature work, and camera movement regularly elevate scenes beyond what could have been fairly standard horror setups.

The audio hits just as hard.

This is the kind of movie that benefits from a big theater setup. Gunshots have weight, creature encounters come alive, and the more chaotic moments sound properly enormous. “Loud and electric” is probably the easiest way to describe it.

And at just 94 minutes, the pacing is one of its biggest strengths.

Thank you.

Seriously.

Not every movie needs to cross the two-hour mark.

Resident Evil gets in, unleashes hell, tells its story, and gets out before the experience overstays its welcome. I would take a focused 94-minute horror movie like this over another needlessly bloated blockbuster almost every time.

It Gets Corny — But It Knows It

Resident Evil has always occupied a strange little corner of horror.

These games can be absolutely horrifying one minute and completely ridiculous the next. You might be carefully creeping through a dark hallway terrified by every noise, only to eventually fight something the size of a small apartment building.

The movie understands that balance.

Some jokes are definitely corny. Some scenes are intentionally strange. But the corniness never hijacks the movie.

More importantly, quite a few of the jokes landed for me — especially when the humor played directly off familiar Resident Evil mechanics and situations.

It feels like the movie is laughing with the games rather than making fun of them.

That’s an important distinction.

Cregger’s affection for the source material comes through constantly. This isn’t a movie desperately trying to disguise the fact that it came from a video game. It embraces it.

There Was Still Room to Dig Deeper

As much as I enjoyed it, there are a few places where Resident Evil could have pushed harder.

The story works, but it isn’t especially deep. I was interested enough to keep following the mystery and wanted to see where everything was going, but another layer of character development could have made some of the bigger moments hit harder.

I also wouldn’t have complained about another major action sequence or two.

Not because the movie is boring — it absolutely isn’t — but because when Resident Evil really lets loose, those moments are some of its best.

A little more time developing certain characters and slightly more meat on the narrative bone could have elevated the entire thing.

That’s really where my complaints end.

Even the ending, which I can see being divisive, worked for me. I found it satisfying, and more importantly, it left me hoping there’s a way to continue this story rather than feeling like I had seen enough.

This Feels Like Resident Evil

That’s ultimately what matters most to me.

We’ve had plenty of Resident Evil movies before. Some I’ve enjoyed more than others. But this one stuck out.

It doesn’t simply borrow the name, throw some zombies on screen, and call it a day.

It understands the limited ammo. The panic. The absurdity. The tension. The creatures. The little environmental details fans immediately recognize. That awful feeling when you’ve just overcome one problem and the game immediately introduces another one.

It feels like it was made by people who have actually spent time with these games.

And after spending my entire life with Resident Evil — from being terrified of that first zombie as a kid to calling Requiem one of my favorite games of 2026 — that matters.

Verdict

Resident Evil is fast, fun, visually impressive and much more faithful to the spirit of the games than I expected.

It’s not a flawless adaptation. The characters could use additional development, the story could dig a little deeper, and I’d gladly take another big action sequence.

But none of those issues stopped me from having a great time.

In a year that has seemingly decided horror fans don’t deserve a break between good releases, Resident Evil is another one worth making time for.

Longtime fans should have a blast catching the references and recognizing the gameplay DNA scattered throughout the movie. Newcomers still get an entertaining, tightly paced horror ride that doesn’t require decades of Resident Evil knowledge to enjoy.

The Odyssey Review

Studio: Universal Pictures

Release Date: July 17, 2026

Runtime: 2h 52m

Director: Christopher Nolan

After seeing The Odyssey in both IMAX and a standard theater, I figured it was finally time to put my thoughts together.

I’ll start with something that may be unpopular: I really didn’t like Oppenheimer.

I could appreciate what Christopher Nolan accomplished visually, but the movie never worked for me personally. It felt like a dialogue-heavy suspense ride that kept building toward a level of payoff I never felt it reached. So when Nolan’s next massive project was announced, I wasn’t automatically sold simply because his name was attached.

I just hoped The Odyssey would land better for me.

It did.

The Odyssey is a really good movie, and from a technical standpoint, it’s difficult to find much to criticize. The cinematography is exceptional. The sound is incredible. The scale is enormous. And when Nolan lets the movie fully embrace its action and mythology, it produces some of the best sequences in the entire film.

But even after two viewings, I walked away feeling like something was missing.

A Movie Made for IMAX

I don’t want to review The Odyssey based entirely on its IMAX presentation. A movie still needs to work regardless of which theater you happen to watch it in.

That said, ignoring IMAX here would almost be dishonest.

This is a movie built for that experience.

The beautiful landscapes, ships cutting through the water, battles, creatures and sheer scale of Odysseus’ journey benefit tremendously from the larger presentation. The sound is just as important. There are sequences where you don’t simply hear what is happening—you feel it.

Seeing the movie again in a standard theater only reinforced how much IMAX adds.

That doesn’t mean the standard presentation suddenly makes The Odyssey a bad movie. Far from it. The cinematography remains beautiful and the action still works. But if you’re deciding where to see it for the first time, IMAX is absolutely the way I would recommend experiencing it.

My score, however, isn’t an IMAX score.

It’s a score for the movie underneath the spectacle.

Do We Really Need Spider-Man, MJ and Batman?

One of my first reactions when the cast was announced was admittedly a ridiculous one:

Do we really need Spider-Man, MJ and Batman in the same movie?

Think about it for a second. It’s a little funny.

Tom Holland, Zendaya and Robert Pattinson are three actors who are so closely associated with massive modern franchises that there was always a chance their familiarity could become distracting in a story this iconic.

But when you’re making something on the scale of The Odyssey, I also understand the appeal of filling it with some of the biggest faces in Hollywood.

And thankfully, the performances deliver.

Matt Damon is also excellent as Odysseus. He carries himself like someone who has experienced an exhausting amount of war, loss and hardship while still possessing the intelligence and determination that define the character.

With a cast this stacked, you’d expect that to be one of the movie’s strengths, and it is.

My issue isn’t that the performances fail to bring these characters to life.

It’s that I never became as attached to those characters as I wanted to.

The Mythology Is Where The Odyssey Shines

The supernatural portions of The Odyssey were easily some of my favorite parts of the movie.

Circe’s sequence, including the transformation of Odysseus’ men into pigs, immediately brings a different energy to the journey. These are the moments where this ancient story feels strange, dangerous and unpredictable again.

The Cyclops sequence is even better.

It’s tense. It’s visually incredible. And it’s one of the few stretches of the movie where I felt myself sitting forward waiting to see what would happen next.

For a story that has existed for thousands of years, that’s an impressive accomplishment.

These were also the moments that left me wanting more.

Not necessarily more creatures for the sake of having creatures, but more sequences that carried that same combination of danger, spectacle and suspense.

When The Odyssey reaches that level, it’s phenomenal.

It just doesn’t stay there often enough.

The Action Needed Just a Little More

The same applies to the fighting.

When the action arrives, it’s fantastic.

The climactic battle is one of my favorite portions of the entire movie. Nolan’s filmmaking style works incredibly well when everything finally erupts—the sound, scale, choreography and cinematography come together to create exactly the kind of spectacle I wanted from this story.

Maybe my expectations were wrong going in, but I expected more of those moments.

That’s a strange criticism because I don’t think The Odyssey is particularly lacking in content. This is a long story with a lot to cover.

But its best action sequences are so good that they made me wish there were just a few more of them.

So Why Didn’t It Hit Me Harder?

This is the part I’ve struggled with most since leaving the theater.

Almost everything about The Odyssey is good.

Some of it is great.

The presentation? Incredible.

The cinematography? Among the movie’s greatest strengths.

The sound? Outstanding.

The acting? Excellent.

The dialogue? Strong.

The mythology? Responsible for several of my favorite scenes.

And yet when the credits rolled, I didn’t have that overwhelming feeling that I had just watched something unforgettable.

I think some of that comes down to emotional attachment.

I understood what these characters wanted. I understood what was at stake. But I rarely found myself deeply worried about what was waiting for them on the other side of the journey.

That isn’t because the story is poorly told.

If anything, the problem may be the exact opposite.

The Odyssey is one of the most famous stories ever written. Its characters, creatures and major events have been retold, referenced, adapted and reimagined countless times.

Then Nolan takes that already familiar story and fills it with faces we’re incredibly familiar with.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with that. But for me, it created a strange distance between watching these characters and truly becoming emotionally invested in them.

I admired the journey more than I felt it.

The Question I Couldn’t Stop Asking

My two viewings left me with one question that ultimately shaped how I scored the movie:

What would I have thought if my first experience with The Odyssey had been at home?

Because in IMAX, this movie can be overwhelming in the best possible way.

The screen is enormous. The audio surrounds you. The landscapes feel endless. The battles have weight. The creatures become intimidating simply through their scale.

Strip that away, and the movie has to stand on its own.

And it does.

Very well, actually.

But I’m not convinced I’d be talking about it the same way.

There are individual sequences I continued thinking about afterward—particularly some of the supernatural encounters and the climactic action—but the movie as a whole didn’t stay with me for nights afterward.

That’s the difference between something I think is technically exceptional and something I personally consider exceptional.

The Odyssey comes incredibly close to being both.

For me, it never completely gets there.

The Verdict

Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is a massive, beautifully made adaptation that deserves to be experienced on the biggest screen possible.

Matt Damon delivers as Odysseus, the stacked supporting cast does exactly what you’d expect from a group of actors this talented, and the technical presentation is outstanding. When the movie dives into its supernatural mythology or unleashes its biggest action sequences, it becomes quite thrilling.

The Cyclops encounter and climactic battle in particular show just how incredible this movie can be.

I only wish I felt that level of intensity more consistently.

For all its technical brilliance, The Odyssey never created the emotional connection or sustained suspense that would have pushed it into truly unforgettable territory for me.

I left impressed.

I left entertained.

I absolutely recommend seeing it—especially in IMAX.

I just didn’t leave obsessed with it.

And for a movie this massive, that small missing piece ends up making a surprisingly big difference.

FROM Season 4 Review

Network / Streaming: MGM+

Season Premiere: April 19, 2026

Episodes: 10

Created By: John Griffin

When I first found FROM, it felt like a show built specifically for me.

An original premise. Genuine scares. And the thing I chase more than almost anything else in television: cliffhangers vicious enough to make walking away feel impossible.

Violent, thrilling, unsettling, and relentlessly suspenseful, FROM fused nearly every ingredient I want from mystery-horror into one series. Then it went a step further by creating an atmosphere almost nothing else on television could match.

The town. The creatures waiting beyond the windows. The silence after dark. The way an episode could end while the unease stayed behind.

At its best, FROM did not simply tell a frightening story. It trapped you inside one.

Season 4 opens with many of those same instincts intact. The mystery continues to grow. The danger remains unpredictable. The characters are still chasing answers in a place seemingly designed to deny them.

The show can still frighten. It can still shock. It can still leave you staring at the credits, immediately wanting the next episode.

But somewhere beneath all of that, the spark is beginning to dim.

Back Into the Nightmare

Season 4 does not ease anyone back in.

The residents remain trapped. The threats continue to evolve. The show is still perfectly comfortable dragging its characters into situations with no obvious way out. There is always another disturbing discovery, another impossible connection, or another reason to question everything we thought we understood about the town.

That uncertainty remains the show’s sharpest weapon.

Even during its quieter stretches, FROM makes ordinary moments feel dangerous. A conversation inside a house. An empty road. A character walking alone. Almost every scene carries the same low hum of something is about to happen.

Few shows can sustain that level of tension across multiple seasons. FROM still can.

The atmosphere remains heavy, oppressive, and strangely hypnotic. Every location feels familiar enough to recognize but wrong enough to distrust. The town has become a character of its own — one that appears calm only when it is preparing to hurt someone.

Season 4 understands that fear is not always about what appears on screen. Sometimes it is about the waiting.

And FROM is still very good at making you wait.

The Scares Are Better Than Ever

From a horror standpoint, Season 4 may be the strongest the series has ever looked.

The creature effects, practical work, makeup, violence, and more graphic sequences all operate at a new peak. The monsters remain effective because the show continues to resist overusing them. Their absence creates nearly as much tension as their presence.

You know what is waiting outside.

You simply do not know when it will arrive.

That restraint gives the horror room to breathe. The anticipation does as much work as the eventual payoff, and when Season 4 decides to go graphic, it commits completely.

Several scenes rank among the most disturbing the show has ever put on screen. They are brutal without feeling entirely gratuitous, and they reinforce the central rule of this world: nobody is safe.

One wrong decision can be the only distance between survival and an unforgettable death.

There were stretches of this season where I was completely locked in — gut-tight, scanning every corner of the screen, and unsure who would make it through the episode.

That feeling is why I fell in love with FROM in the first place.

Season 4 still knows how to create it.

A Strong New Central Storyline — Surrounded by Filler

The backbone of the season is a new character, and almost immediately, they become the most compelling element on screen.

They bring a fresh perspective into the mystery and open new possibilities for where the larger story may be heading. At its best, this storyline is exactly what FROM needed: strange, disorienting, emotionally grounded, and clearly connected to something much larger than anyone currently understands.

It gives the season a genuine center.

There is mystery surrounding the character, but there is also enough emotion to make the storyline feel like more than another puzzle piece. Their presence changes the dynamic of the season and creates some of its strongest moments.

The problem is that not everything surrounding that storyline earns its runtime.

Too many scenes exist without an immediate or meaningful purpose. Conversations stretch past their natural endpoint. Side plots idle in place. Characters repeat fears or arguments the audience already understands.

That would be less noticeable in an earlier season.

By Season 4, it becomes difficult to ignore.

The audience has spent years waiting for progress on mysteries that continue to multiply. Every unnecessary scene now feels more expensive because it takes time away from questions the show has trained viewers to care about.

The new storyline is the season’s greatest asset.

The season simply does not create enough urgency around it.

Instead of constantly driving forward, the story occasionally drifts — interesting enough to hold attention, but not focused enough to feel essential.

The Storytelling Takes a Step Back

I enjoyed Season 4 more than Season 3.

I still walked away feeling like the storytelling regressed.

The mystery continues expanding through new connections, symbols, visions, locations, and partial explanations. Yet the actual progress does not always keep pace with everything being added.

It begins to feel less like the story is moving forward and more like new pieces are being dropped onto a board that is already overcrowded.

That approach can work for a while. It gives viewers plenty to dissect between episodes. It fuels theories, rewatches, and conversations about what every symbol or line of dialogue might mean.

But FROM has crossed a threshold.

More questions are no longer enough.

We need answers.

Not every answer. Not a full explanation of the town, the creatures, and every supernatural force operating behind the scenes.

But enough to prove the story is advancing rather than endlessly widening.

Season 4 provides some progress, but not enough. Certain threads circle back on themselves instead of moving forward. Others remain suspended, clearly waiting until the writers decide they are useful again.

The mystery is still gripping.

The issue is that the show is moving dangerously close to mistaking more for better.

A larger mystery is not automatically a deeper one. Eventually, every new question creates a debt that the story must repay.

Season 4 adds heavily to that debt.

Too Many Characters, Not Enough Momentum

Part of the problem is the sheer number of people and storylines competing for attention.

The ensemble has always been one of FROM’s strengths. The town feels alive because everyone is carrying a different fear, theory, trauma, or reason to keep fighting.

But as the cast grows and the mystery branches outward, the show struggles to give every thread enough weight.

Some characters receive meaningful development. Others feel like they are waiting on the sidelines for the plot to remember them. Several storylines appear important in one episode, only to disappear or lose momentum shortly afterward.

The result is a season that occasionally feels fragmented.

The individual pieces remain interesting. The performances remain strong. The ideas are often compelling.

They just do not always combine into a story that feels like it is building toward something with purpose.

That distinction matters.

A mystery series does not need to move quickly, but it does need to move deliberately.

Season 4 sometimes confuses slow tension with stalled momentum.

Running Out of Time

By the finale, it becomes obvious that very little is going to be fully resolved.

There are too many open storylines and nowhere near enough runway left to close them.

The finale swings for several major moments and leaves behind plenty to obsess over before Season 5. Cliffhangers have always been part of the show’s DNA, and I do not want that to change.

I want FROM to leave me desperate for more.

What I wanted this time was a little more substance before being asked to wait again.

Instead, the season closes with a stack of unresolved threads that feel less like deliberate ambiguity and more like inventory being held in reserve.

There is a difference between a cliffhanger and a postponement.

Season 4 occasionally blurs that line.

The ending still creates excitement. It still gives fans material to debate. It still succeeds in making Season 5 feel necessary.

But considering how long the wait between seasons can be, it is difficult not to feel frustrated by how much remains untouched.

A great cliffhanger should leave you buzzing.

This one left me buzzing — and irritated that I had to settle for anticipation instead of satisfaction.

The Cast Is Operating at an All-Time High

The story may stumble, but the acting has never been better.

Years spent inside these roles have allowed the cast to understand their characters on a deeper level, and that familiarity is visible in nearly every scene.

Fear, exhaustion, grief, anger, and desperation do not feel performed.

They feel accumulated.

Every character wears the town differently. Some are breaking openly. Others are hiding behind denial, control, faith, rage, or the belief that one more discovery might finally explain everything.

The performances make that damage feel real.

Even slower episodes remain grounded because the cast understands the emotional weight behind every conversation. These people are no longer reacting only to the latest threat. They are carrying every death, every failed escape, and every answer that created three more questions.

Nobody in this town feels stable anymore.

The actors make you understand exactly why.

The new additions also blend into the ensemble naturally. They do not feel awkwardly inserted or disconnected from the established world. Their presence adds new energy without undermining the characters we have followed from the beginning.

Whatever frustrations I had with the season’s pacing, they were never caused by the cast.

The performances remain one of the strongest reasons to keep watching.

Is FROM Losing Its Spark?

Season 4 is still scary.

It is still tense.

It is still one of the most distinctive horror shows on television.

But the electricity that made the earlier seasons feel unlike anything else is fading.

The town is no longer as unfamiliar. The structure becomes easier to predict with every passing season. The pattern — mystery, tension, a partial answer, another mystery — is beginning to show its age.

Atmosphere and cliffhangers alone cannot carry this story forever.

At some point, the mystery has to begin paying off.

That does not mean everything should be explained at once. FROM would lose much of its identity if it rushed toward a complete reveal. The uncertainty is part of the appeal.

But uncertainty only works when the audience believes there is something solid beneath it.

Season 4 needs to prove that its growing web of mysteries is leading somewhere intentional, not expanding indefinitely because expansion is easier than resolution.

The show gets close to offering that reassurance.

It does not quite get there.

That does not mean FROM has lost what makes it special.

It means Season 5 may be the point where the series has to show its hand.

Verdict

FROM Season 4 remains a violent, suspenseful, deeply watchable continuation of one of television’s most original horror stories.

The atmosphere has not slipped. The acting has never been stronger. The scares and effects reach a new franchise high. The central storyline involving the new character gives the season some of its best material while pushing the larger mystery in a genuinely interesting direction.

When the season is operating at full strength, few shows can match its ability to create dread.

But the writing occasionally loses focus. Too many scenes justify themselves after the fact instead of before. Too many side plots lack momentum. And too many important questions are pushed into next season’s pile rather than meaningfully addressed here.

I am still fully invested in Season 5.

This show has not lost me.

I still want to know what this town is, why these people were brought there, what controls the creatures, and how every fractured piece of the mystery eventually connects.

But the longer FROM continues, the more its answers matter.

Season 4 proves the show can still terrify, surprise, and pull me back into its nightmare.

Now it needs to prove that the destination is worth what the journey is beginning to cost.

Widow’s Bay Review

Network / Streaming: Apple TV

Season Premiere: April 29, 2026

Episodes: 10

Created By: Katie Dippold

You know that feeling when a new show clicks immediately? A new concept, new characters, a new world you are still figuring out—and somewhere in the first episode, you get the sense that you may have found something special.

That is exactly what Widow’s Bay gave me.

It blends comedy and horror without letting either side completely take over. The humor gives the show personality, but the mystery and tension are what keep you watching.

Something Fresh From Apple TV+

Apple takes television seriously, and its library proves it. Severance is still my favorite thing the service has produced—an all-timer regardless of network or streaming platform.

That is a conversation for another day.

Widow’s Bay rules. Let’s get into why.

I have said it before: I love horror. This show’s horror can run a little corny, and it knows it. But it works far more often than it does not because the series understands something many horror-comedy hybrids never figure out—you can be creepy without taking yourself completely seriously.

That balance gives Widow’s Bay an identity of its own.

The premise is strong. The characters are likable. The performances hold up across the board. Most importantly, I needed to finish the season—not out of obligation, but because I had to know what happened next.

That sounds like the bare minimum for a mystery-driven show. It is not. Plenty of series never earn that urgency.

Widow’s Bay rarely lets go of it.

The Horror Carries the Experience

The comedy is present throughout the season.

It is not what makes the show work.

The horror is.

Every time Widow’s Bay leans harder into its scares, the show becomes noticeably stronger. The slow-building dread, sudden jolts, strange discoveries, and constant sense that something is wrong—that is where the momentum lives.

There were entire scenes where I found myself physically bracing for whatever came next. Those are the moments the season is built around.

It is not always terrifying. Some of its bigger swings land closer to cheesy than scary, depending on your tolerance for that style. For me, the lighter touch mostly worked. It gave the show personality without completely draining the tension from it.

But I still wanted more.

More horror. More jump scares. More scenes willing to fully commit to making the audience uncomfortable. The foundation is already there. Widow’s Bay is at its best when it stops holding back—which means it should stop holding back more often.

Easy to Start, Easier to Finish

Ten episodes, with most running between 35 and 45 minutes.

That is not a commitment. That is an easy yes.

The pacing keeps pulling you forward, and even when a stretch slows down, the central mystery remains strong enough to carry you into the next episode. The cast handles the rest.

The chemistry is solid across the board, and the performances make the show’s stranger swings—and there are a few—easy to buy into. Nobody feels as though they wandered in from a completely different series, which matters when you are juggling horror, comedy, mystery, and the occasional absurd detour.

The idea is good, and for the most part, the execution matches it. Even the familiar horror beats feel earned because the setting and tone prevent the show from reading like a checklist of recycled genre tropes.

It Stayed With Me—Just Not Quite Enough

If you have read my reviews before, you know what I keep coming back to: feeling.

Both during and after.

Was I tense? Invested? Entertained?

Yes, consistently.

Widow’s Bay had me locked in throughout the season, especially during its strongest horror sequences.

Did that feeling survive the credits?

Mostly—but not as much as I wanted it to.

This is a show with a genuinely memorable concept and several standout scenes, yet it still stops short of leaving the lasting impression its premise is clearly capable of creating. I found myself thinking back on individual moments fondly, but the overall experience faded faster than it should have.

Faster than the genre’s best work usually does.

That does not undo how entertaining the season was. It simply means the ceiling is higher than what Widow’s Bay actually reached.

A Solid Ending With More to Come

The finale is not revolutionary.

It did not need to be.

It gives the season enough closure to feel complete while clearly setting the table for what comes next—a bridge rather than a definitive ending, now that Season 2 is confirmed.

That is not a criticism. The season still delivers a full and satisfying experience, even with several doors deliberately left open.

I will be there for Season 2.

And I want one thing from it: push the horror further.

Season 1 already proved that the concept works, the cast works, and the setting works. A darker, scarier, and more confident second season could take everything that landed here and turn it into something genuinely great.

Verdict

Widow’s Bay feels fresh in a television landscape where “fresh” is becoming increasingly difficult to find.

A strong concept, likable cast, convincing performances, a mystery that genuinely pulls you forward, and horror sequences tense enough to justify the hype—that is a rare combination.

Not every scare lands. Some moments lean corny, and the impression it left did not run quite as deep as the premise promised. The ending satisfies without dazzling. There is still plenty of room for this show to become darker, scarier, and more memorable.

None of that changes the bottom line: this is an easy recommendation, especially if horror with a playful streak is your thing.

Easy to start. Hard to walk away from. Full of potential heading into Season 2.

Give me more horror, more scares, and more of the tension that made this first season work.

Invincible Season 4 Review

Network / Streaming: Prime Video

Season Premiere: March 18, 2026

Episodes: 8

Created By: Robert Kirkman

When I started Invincible Season 1, I didn’t know what I was walking into. I just knew, episode by episode, that I wasn’t walking out.

Call it a cartoon. Call it anime. The label doesn’t matter. What matters is that Invincible is one of the best things on television — animated or otherwise. From the jump, the cinematic presentation, the brutal honesty, and a world that kept expanding in ways that felt earned rather than manufactured pulled me into something I didn’t know I still needed: an animated series that took itself seriously enough to demand the same from its audience.

Season 4 is a reminder of exactly why this show earned that loyalty.

Story

After a Season 3 that occasionally felt like it was running in place, Season 4 wastes no time finding its footing. The story is tighter, more purposeful, and moves with a confidence the previous season couldn’t always sustain. Each episode ends with enough pull that stopping feels almost rude. The writing trusts its own mythology and trusts its audience to keep up — and that trust pays off.

The show has never shied away from uncomfortable places. Season 4 doesn’t either. Story threads connect deliberately, and for the first time in a couple of seasons, the larger picture comes into focus rather than splintering into subplots that demand patience more than investment. The momentum is back. You feel it almost immediately.

Characters

Mark Grayson continues to be the reason this show works. On paper, he shouldn’t be this compelling — earnest teenager with superpowers isn’t exactly a novel concept. In practice, he’s one of the most genuinely likable protagonists in the genre. He carries the weight of an increasingly violent and complicated world without losing the part of himself worth rooting for. That balance is harder to pull off than it looks, and Season 4 handles it with the kind of quiet confidence that only comes from a creative team that understands their own character.

Several returning faces land some of the season’s most memorable moments. None of it feels like fan service. It feels like the story remembering its own history — which is the better version of that same instinct. When they show up, it lands.

Animation and Presentation

The animation is as vibrant and ambitious as it’s ever been. The action sequences are tense, frequently brutal, and choreographed with a ferocity the show has always treated as a feature rather than a warning label. Invincible does not flinch. Season 4 might be the most uncompromising the show has looked in motion.

The score and sound design continue to do serious work underneath the surface. These elements have always been underrated contributors to what makes Invincible feel cinematic — the way the music knows when to pull back, the way the sound design adds weight to every hit. Season 4 is no different. Everything works together to give the show a personality that’s genuinely hard to replicate.

Verdict

Season 4 is not Invincible at its absolute ceiling. Seasons 1 and 2 set a standard that’s still hard to touch. But this is unmistakably a return to form — focused, brutal, emotionally honest, and propulsive in ways Season 3 couldn’t quite manage.

It ends on a cliffhanger that makes Season 5 feel urgent rather than obligatory. That’s the mark of a show that hasn’t run out of things to say.

I walked into Season 1 not knowing what I was getting into. Four seasons later, I know exactly what this show is — and I’m still not walking away.

Spider-Noir Review — Amazon Prime

I’ve always been a huge Spider-Man fan.

The original Tobey Maguire films remain some of my favorite superhero movies ever made, and the Tom Holland era did a great job bringing that sense of fun and heart back to the character. On top of that, Insomniac’s recent Spider-Man games have set a new standard for superhero adaptations in gaming. So when I heard Nicolas Cage was starring in a Spider-Man-inspired series set in a noir-inspired world, I knew I had to check it out.

After watching the full season of Spider-Noir, I can confidently say this is one of the more unique superhero projects we have seen in a long time.

The series immediately stands apart from most superhero shows by leaning heavily into its old-school detective atmosphere. From the costumes and dialogue to the smoky streets and crime-filled backdrop, Spider-Noir feels like a love letter to classic noir storytelling while still carrying enough Spider-Man DNA to feel familiar. It never feels like the show is simply using the Spider-Man name for attention. It understands the character’s core ideas — responsibility, guilt, sacrifice, humor, and heart — and filters them through a darker, more stylish world.

One of the coolest ideas is the option to watch the series in either color or black and white. I watched part of the season in black and white just to get the full experience, and honestly, it works surprisingly well. The visual style feels tailor-made for it, making the world feel even more authentic and helping the show stand out from the crowded superhero landscape. It is not just a gimmick. The black-and-white option actually fits the tone, the setting, and the detective-noir approach the series is going for.

Nicolas Cage is exactly what you would hope for in the lead role. He brings a unique energy to the character that can occasionally border on corny, but that is part of the charm. The show’s time period and overall tone make those moments feel intentional rather than distracting. Cage manages to balance the character’s determination, humor, regret, and vulnerability in a way that keeps you invested from beginning to end. By the time the season wraps up, it is hard to imagine this version of the character working nearly as well without him.

The humor lands more often than not, and the supporting cast helps keep the various storylines moving. What surprised me most, though, was how much grit the show is willing to embrace. Spider-Noir is noticeably darker and more violent than I expected. Rather than feeling excessive, the added edge fits perfectly with the detective-noir atmosphere and helps give the series its own identity. This is still a Spider-Man story, but it is not afraid to get rough, messy, and morally complicated.

The first few episodes focus heavily on building the world, introducing characters, and laying the groundwork for multiple storylines. Some viewers may wish things moved a little faster early on, but I appreciated the patience. The show takes its time establishing the city, the mystery, and the version of Spider-Man at the center of it all. Once the pieces start clicking into place, the season becomes more and more engaging.

By the back half, Spider-Noir really starts to pay off that setup. The mystery becomes more compelling, the character motivations become clearer, and the show finds a strong rhythm between detective drama, superhero action, and noir-style tension. Not every storyline hits with the same impact, and there are a few slower stretches, but the season never lost me. Even when it takes its time, the atmosphere, performances, and style keep it interesting.

What I liked most is that Spider-Noir does not feel like just another superhero show. It has its own personality. The world feels lived in, the tone feels specific, and the visual identity makes a real difference. In a genre that can sometimes feel crowded with similar ideas, this series gives itself a clear reason to exist. It is familiar enough for Spider-Man fans, but different enough to feel fresh.

The full season also does a good job of making its version of Spider-Man feel human. Under the costume, the detective atmosphere, and the stylized dialogue, there is still a character carrying guilt, trying to do the right thing, and getting pulled deeper into a world that does not make doing the right thing easy. That is where the show works best. It understands that Spider-Man stories are not just about powers. They are about the weight that comes with using them.

Spider-Noir is stylish, entertaining, darker than expected, and carried by a Nicolas Cage performance that fully commits to the world around him. The season has a few pacing issues, and not every subplot is equally strong, but the highs easily outweigh the lows. The mystery is intriguing, the atmosphere is excellent, the action has impact, and the show’s unique visual style helps it stand out in a big way.

After finishing the season, I am not just glad I watched it. I want more of this world.

Spider-Noir proves there is still plenty of room to experiment with superhero stories when the people making them have a clear vision. It is weird, gritty, stylish, funny when it needs to be, and genuinely compelling when it matters most. For Spider-Man fans, noir fans, or anyone tired of superhero projects that all feel the same, this is absolutely worth watching.

Euphoria Season 3 Review – HBO Max

There was a time when Euphoria felt like the biggest show on television.

When Season 1 dropped in 2019, I watched every episode twice. Sundays couldn’t come soon enough. It had that perfect balance of style, chaos, and raw emotion — the kind of show you couldn’t look away from even when it was making you uncomfortable. It felt fresh. It felt dangerous. It had a grip on the cultural conversation that felt immediate and total.

Season 2 did more of the same — and for a while, that was enough. The performances were still incredible. The drama was still gloriously messy. But you could feel by the end that the novelty was starting to crack, that Euphoria was quietly drifting from the thing that made it feel so special.

Then came Season 3.

I want to be clear — I still found this season entertaining. There were still shocking moments, still episodes that had me anxiously waiting for the next one, still flashes where the show reminded me exactly why it became such a massive deal. I was pulled back every week.

But from Episode 1, something felt off.

The desert backdrop gives the season a new visual identity, and in theory I’m always open to a show shaking things up. A fresh setting can bring new energy. It can feel like a reset. It can let characters grow in ways a familiar environment won’t allow.

Here, though, it almost feels too fresh.

Every character is living a completely different life. Everyone feels scattered — and not in the way that feels intentional. The show has jumped forward, shifted its focus, moved into a new phase, but it never seems fully confident about what that phase is supposed to be. Instead of a natural evolution, Season 3 feels like a show trying to reinvent itself and wrap itself up at the same time.

That’s a brutal balance to pull off. Euphoria doesn’t fully get there.

What made the original season so addictive was how connected everything felt. The characters were messy and flawed and sometimes impossible to defend, but their stories were tied together. There was a clear emotional center. You cared because the show gave you time with these people. You understood their pain, their patterns, their mistakes, their love for each other.

Season 3 doesn’t have that same line.

Some storylines are genuinely tense. Some are interesting. Some are shocking. Others feel unbelievable, rushed, and disconnected from anything resembling the show we used to know. At times, it feels like Euphoria is throwing chaos at the screen because chaos has always been its identity. And to be fair — that still works, somewhat. This show knows how to keep you watching. Even when I was frustrated, I still wanted to know what happened next.

Season 3 is messy, uneven, and questionable. But it’s rarely boring.

The performances still carry a lot of weight, which has always been one of Euphoria’s biggest strengths. By Season 3, though, it’s impossible to ignore how massive some of this cast has become. The show is now anchored by legitimate A-list stars, and that changes the texture of everything. It no longer feels like a group of young characters trapped in their own world. It feels bigger, more polished, more aware of its own importance.

Sometimes that works. Sometimes it makes the whole thing feel less like Euphoria and more like a prestige event.

There is also an unavoidable sadness hanging over this season because of Angus Cloud and Eric Dane. Both were taken far too soon. Cloud brought a quiet, natural warmth to Fez that made him one of the emotional heartbeats of the show. Dane’s work as Cal gave Euphoria one of its most complicated, uncomfortable, and unforgettable characters. The long gap between seasons already felt heavy — four years is a lot to ask of any audience — but it feels heavier knowing we didn’t get nearly enough time with either of them. It was especially moving to see Dane still bringing that same intensity to the screen while facing his ALS diagnosis. Their absence echoes throughout the season, and for longtime fans, it adds a layer of grief to a show that already made saying goodbye so difficult.

That grief is also where Season 3 loses me.

I still cared about these characters. But I didn’t always feel like the show was giving me enough time with the ones I cared about most. For a season that feels like it could be the end, there’s a surprising amount of space given to characters and storylines that were never part of the emotional foundation. New directions aren’t automatically bad. But when you’re potentially closing the door on something like this, fans are going to want to sit with the people they already love.

Season 3 never fully lets that happen.

It feels caught between two versions of itself — one that wants to be a fresh start, one that wants to be a goodbye — and it never commits to either. The nearly two-hour finale does its best to pull everything together, and there are moments that land. There’s a sense of finality in parts of it. But by the time the credits rolled, I couldn’t shake the feeling of: that’s it?

Not because it needed a clean ending. Euphoria has never been a neat show. But with that much history behind these characters, and that much runway in the finale, I expected more. I expected it to be more focused. I expected the goodbye to hit harder.

It didn’t.

Too many loose ends. Not enough time to make any single farewell matter.

And yet — I’d still be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy watching it.

That’s the pull of Euphoria. Even when it’s frustrating, it keeps you locked in. Even when storylines go off the rails, the style and talent and sheer madness carry you through. It still knows how to create a moment. It still knows how to make an episode feel like something you need to talk about. It can still make you anxious, annoyed, shocked, and invested all in the same hour.

But Season 3 is a clear step down.

The first two seasons were messy, dramatic, intense, and addictive in a way that felt genuinely singular. Season 3 has pieces of that. It never captures the magic. It’s rushed in some places, overextended in others, and oddly unsure of itself for a show that once knew exactly what it wanted to be.

There’s no official announcement that this is the end. But by the finale, it certainly feels close. I’d watch Season 4. And I’d be nervous about it.

Maybe Euphoria was always going to struggle to grow up. Maybe a show built around such a specific time, feeling, and group of characters was always going to lose something once it moved too far from that original spark. Season 3 is still watchable. Still stylish. Still dramatic. Still wild enough to keep fans coming back.

But for a show that once felt impossible to look away from, Season 3 too often feels like it’s chasing a feeling it used to create effortlessly.

Obsession Review – Movie

I’ve seen a lot of horror movies.

Mainstream hits. Cult classics. Weird low-budget experiments. Ridiculously over-the-top gorefests like The Terrifier. And with the original Saw still being one of my all-time favorite movies, I tend to take horror pretty seriously.

That’s probably why I’ve had so many experiences over the years where a movie gets massively hyped up, I finally go see it, and leave the theater wondering: how did people actually think that was good?

Thankfully, Obsession wasn’t one of those horror movies.

I was locked in from start to finish.

This movie manages to be creepy in a way that gets under your skin, and at times it almost weaponizes cringe in the best possible way. There are violent moments, some well-placed jump scares, and several scenes that felt uncomfortable in a way most horror fans will appreciate.

The story itself was compelling too — and that’s not always easy to pull off in horror. Even though the core idea isn’t exactly groundbreaking, it still felt fresh enough that I never found myself checking out mentally. There were also more than a few hidden themes and details I started piecing together while watching, but I’ll keep those to myself because this is a movie that deserves to be experienced without any spoilers.

And when the credits rolled? I kept thinking about it.

That matters.

Too many horror movies either completely fall apart at the ending or try so hard to shock you that they forget to actually stick the landing. Obsession avoided that trap and nailed its ending. It gives you something to think about after the movie is over, which always elevates the whole experience. 

Special praise has to go to Inde Navarrette (as Nikki), who turned in one of the standout performances of the film. Horror lives and dies by whether you buy into what the actors are selling, and she brought a level of authenticity and emotion that elevated several scenes. Performances can make or break a movie like this — and this cast delivered.

I also caught a few vibes that reminded me of the Smile series — and considering I’m a big fan of those movies, I’m not complaining.

My biggest criticism is that parts of the movie felt a little predictable. I guessed more than one major beat before it happened, which took away some tension. And while the violence still landed, there were moments where the lower budget showed through visually.

But honestly? That budget story might be one of the coolest things here.

Written and directed by just 26-year-old Curry Barker, this movie reportedly came together on a budget of around $750,000. And it proves something I wish Hollywood remembered more often:

Movies do not have to cost half a billion dollars to be entertaining.

Great acting. Great pacing. A perfect runtime. A compelling story. And a director whose next film I’m suddenly interested in. 

That next film, Anything But Ghosts, is expected to star Aaron Paul — and after this?

Yeah, I’ll be keeping an eye out for a release date. 

This one was better than I expected and that’s one of the best compliments I can give a horror movie.