The Last Showgirl

 

The Last Showgirl, directed by Gia Coppola and starring Pamela Anderson, Dave Bautista, Jamie Lee Curtis, Billie Lourd, Brenda Song, and Kiernan Shipka, is a raw, intimate drama that peels back the glittering surface of Las Vegas to explore the emotional cost of aging in an industry that worships youth and novelty.

The plot unfolded as a unique slow burn, and directed with a gritty indie sensibility. Coppola did a great job capturing a looming sense of sadness and desperation, offering a thoughtful meditation on what happens when the spotlight fades.

I appreciated that the cast was female led with a wide variety of ages and ethnicities. The supporting cast, including Jamie Lee Curtis, Billie Lourd, Brenda Song, and Kiernan Shipka, all contributed to the layered depiction of a fading era and the people caught in its wake. The relationships in the film felt lived-in, complicated, and often unresolved, which added to the story’s emotional weight. At the heart of the story was Pamela Anderson’s incredible performance as Shelly Gardner, a seasoned showgirl whose entire identity is tethered to a revue that’s about to close after three decades. Anderson fully inhabited the role of a woman who is stuck in her ways, clinging to the world she knows as everything around her changes. Shelly’s stubbornness and judgment of modern life created emotional distance from those who she cared about her most, and it’s this fractured humanity that made the character so compelling. Anderson’s Golden Globe nomination felt absolutely earned. The portrayal of this character was some of her most vulnerable, career-defining work to date. Dave Bautista also shined as Eddie, the kind-hearted producer who brought surprising nuance to a role that could have easily been one-note. His quiet compassion balanced the more jagged edges of Shelly’s world, grounding the film in emotional honesty.

What really stood out was the film’s thoughtful exploration of aging in the entertainment industry, a topic rarely given this level of sensitivity. Much like The Wrestler (2008), The Last Showgirl understood the deep ache of a performer who no longer knows who they are when the curtain falls.

This isn’t a glitzy, feel-good Vegas movie. It’s raw, unflinching, and doesn’t rush to redemption, nor does it glamorize its setting. It shows the cost of staying in a role too long and the courage it takes to figure out who you are beyond the stage.

Rustin

 

Netflix’s docudrama Rustin focuses on Bayard Rustin, a key yet often overlooked leader of the American Civil Rights Movement. With standout performances from Colman Domingo, Chris Rock, and Glynn Turman, the film tells the story of Rustin’s steadfast fight for racial equality, human rights, and democracy. Despite his critical role, Rustin’s identity as an openly gay Black man led to his near erasure from the movement he helped shape.

 

I truly appreciated seeing Rustin’s story told so powerfully. This film did a great job giving him the spotlight he deserved. It was well-made and easy to follow, allowing the emotional and inspiring narrative to shine. A deeply moving film, especially in today’s political climate.

 

The film did an excellent job developing Rustin’s character, though I would have liked to see more development for the supporting cast. With that being said, Colman Domingo gave a fantastic performance, bringing Rustin to life with depth and authenticity. I was especially moved by how Rustin lived authentically, even when facing tremendous challenges and a lack of support from his own community. His perseverance and achievements left a lasting impact on history.

 

Rustin is a powerful film that feels especially meaningful during Pride Month. It serves as an essential reminder of resistance and resilience, offering valuable insights for everyone.

Blue Crush

Released in 2002, John Stockwell's Blue Crush dove into the world of professional surfing in Oahu, Hawaii, following three friends, Anne Marie, Eden, and Lena, who worked at a hotel resort and chased waves in their free time. Based on Susan Orlean's "Life's Swell," the film attempted to capture the thrill of the sport and the lives of those dedicated to it. The film stars Kate Bosworth, Michelle Rodriguez and Sanoe Lake, respectively.

The plot was genuinely engaging, offering an interesting narrative that kept me engaged throughout. However, the acting was often painful to watch. I feel like this is a common risk when filmmakers cast athletes to act, and unfortunately, it showed here. While Kate Bosworth's Anne Marie saw decent character development, the rest of the cast's characters felt underdeveloped, leaving me wanting more depth from their stories.

Visually, the film aged in some areas. The CGI, likely impressive for 2002, appeared somewhat dated on high-resolution televisions, revealing where improvements could be made. Another visual drawback was the cinematography choices. The film repeatedly cut to the same scene, as an attempt to emphasize a character's recurring thoughts. While the intent was clear, it became quite annoying and repetitive as there could have been more creative ways to convey internal struggles.

Despite being over two decades old, Blue Crush held up surprisingly well from a theme and messaging perspective. The film also featured a decent amount of diversity. However, one notable misstep was the portrayal of native Hawaiians as problematic or antagonistic figures, which was a disappointing and unnecessary creative choice.

Ultimately, Blue Crush offered a unique story with a strong central performance from Kate Bosworth. While it stumbled with some of its acting, aging CGI, and repetitive visual motifs, it still provided a fun, if flawed, look into the world of surfing, maintaining its cult classic relevance.

Sinners

 

Set in the 1930s American South, Ryan Coogler's Sinners is a gothic horror that follows twin brothers, played in dual roles by Michael B. Jordan, who return to their hometown seeking peace but instead uncover a sinister evil. 

The film unfolded methodically, prioritizing character development before its haunting plot fully emerged. Coogler masterfully employed symbolism, using blues music and the Southern gothic backdrop as potent metaphors for resistance. The score was intentionally evocative, underscoring the pain, beauty, and resilience of Black communities facing historical oppression. 

Filmed for IMAX, the vastness and depth of the land that sharecroppers toiled under during Jim Crow was strikingly apparent, adding another layer to the film's historical context. Deeply woven themes of racism, assimilation, cultural erasure through colonization, and spiritual resistance permeated the narrative, prompting viewers to confront the real-world horrors underlying the supernatural elements. Ultimately, the film's most profound terrors stemmed from the lived experiences of marginalized communities.

What truly elevated Sinners was Coogler’s continued commitment to representing the diversity of the Black experience. Black women were portrayed as complex, smart, strong, and sensual. There was also a deeply thoughtful depiction of cross-racial solidarity with Chinese characters, underscoring the shared resistance against white supremacy and systemic violence. It was a quiet but powerful narrative thread that added richness and relevance to the film's historical setting.

The casting was strong with a mixture of iconic veteran actors like Delroy Lindo and some newer to the scene actors. Jordan delivered one of his most nuanced performances to date. He was able to portray two distinctly different brothers who were the anchor to the film’s emotional core. His chemistry with Wunmi Mosaku added warmth to an otherwise ominous atmosphere, while newcomer Miles Caton stood out both as an actor and musician. His performance was soulful, adding a musical heartbeat to the film that tied beautifully into storytelling.

That said, I wasn’t a huge fan of how the villains were portrayed visually. Given the film’s heavy themes and emotional weight, I was hoping for a more frightening depiction of evil. While the concept behind them was strong, the execution lacked compared to what I’ve seen in other supernatural villain portrayals like Interview with the Vampire (TV series) or the Underworld film franchise. Those comparisons show just how terrifying and visually arresting supernatural antagonists can be when fully realized.

In the end, Sinners was a visually rich, emotionally powerful period horror with layered themes and standout performances. While the villains fell short of their potential visually, the film remained a unique and compelling entry in the genre.

Thunderbolts*

 

Set after Captain America: Brave New World, Thunderbolts* assembles a team of morally ambiguous individuals from the MCU. As they are thrust into a perilous mission they are forced to work together and confront their dark pasts.

Despite lacking big stars, the ensemble cast's surprising chemistry fueled the film's depth. The movie cleverly used their dysfunction for both tension and relatable comedy, which enhanced the action without diminishing the stakes.

The action sequences were sharp with standout moments that remind you why Marvel’s fight choreography can still shine when done right. And while the villain drew some criticism for their more abstract, psychological power set, it fit thematically. The idea of confronting your past and choosing growth over repression gave the film an emotional core that hit harder than many recent Marvel entries.

Thunderbolts*, unburdened by Avenger legacy or fan-favorite team-ups, refreshingly focused on marginalized characters thrust into a fight for redemption. Its smaller scale, personal stakes, and surprising heart offered a welcome change in the superhero landscape, potentially providing the tonal and narrative reset Marvel needs.

Will & Harper

 

Will & Harper is a documentary that follows comedian Will Ferrell and his longtime friend Harper as they embark on a cross-country road trip shortly after Harper comes out as a trans woman.

I found the storytelling to be a raw, emotional journey through decades of friendship, transition, and the often painful realities of living authentically in today’s world. It was heartfelt and unflinching

For many viewers, seeing Will Ferrell as a grounded, vulnerable person will be a welcome surprise. Known for his outrageous comedic characters, Ferrell steps back here, allowing us to see a quieter, more empathetic side. His support for Harper wasn't performative; it was rooted in deep love and a genuine desire to understand. Watching him listen, stumble through tough conversations, and grow in real time was powerful.

Harper's candid and courageous sharing of her experiences with mental health, identity, and social stigma formed the powerful and educational core of this documentary. The film didn’t shy away from showing the ugliness many trans people endure from subtle biases to outright hostility. It also balanced quiet moments of beauty, resilience, and the healing power of friendship. It didn’t try to paint a picture of a perfect world; instead, it showed how meaningful it can be to have someone stand by you, even when they don’t have all the answers.

Will & Harper was more than a story about transition. It was a reminder of what real allyship looks like; learning, showing up, and loving someone through change. It is an essential film for our moment, and one that deserves to be widely seen.

Exterritorial

 

In the 2025 German action thriller Exterritorial, a former soldier's desperate search for her missing son, who vanished at a U.S. consulate, leads her to uncover a dangerous conspiracy. The film is directed and written by Christian Zübert and stars Jeanne Goursaud, Dougray Scott, and Lera Abova.

The plot itself was undeniably unique, weaving in twists and moments of tension that kept me engaged. Unfortunately, the film often failed to land its more dramatic beats. The believability of key moments wavered, and the acting was mostly flat, weakening the emotional core of the story.

A major drawback lied in the dubbed version, which was jarringly bad. The awkward dialogue and mismatched tone made it hard to take certain scenes seriously. Watching it in its original German likely would have improved the experience considerably, preserving both the actors’ intended performances and the film’s atmospheric tension.

While Exterritorial may not hold up on the big screen, it fit the mold of a passable Netflix thriller — something to throw on when you're in the mood for light suspense without high expectations. It's watchable, but not memorable, and unlikely to warrant a second viewing.