On Sunday, June 8, 2025, the original Broadway cast of Hamilton reunited for their 10th anniversary at the 78th Tony Awards, delivering a show-stopping medley of iconic songs. Their performances included Non-Stop,My Shot,The Schuyler Sisters,Guns and Ships,You’ll Be Back,Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down),The Room Where It Happens, and History Has Its Eyes on You. The tribute was met with enthusiastic applause from audiences both in the theater and watching from home.
The performance opened with Lin-Manuel Miranda and Leslie Odom Jr. stepping into the spotlight to welcome the audience and set the stage for what was about to unfold. Returning to New York City for a final celebration, the cast came together to make a powerful statement. Each song brought back familiar faces, from The Schuyler Sisters (Renée Elise Goldsberry, Phillipa Soo, and Jasmine Cephas) to George Washington (Christopher Jackson), creating a moment of nostalgia and excitement.
Despite the dazzling and star-studded performance, there may be a deeper meaning behind it. The cast’s uniform black clothing could symbolize mourning for the current state of the country, while lighting choices and song selection add layers of significance. A standout moment occurs when King George III, played by Jonathan Groff, appears as the only performer dressed in bright red, possibly representing the American government and its continued authority over the people.
This performance carries weight during challenging times in the United States. A central message from the original Hamilton cast seems to resonate; unity is essential to overcoming hardship. Echoing the song title itself, history has its eyes on us as we navigate these moments together.
For a vampiric being to enter ant owned property, whether they’re humans, witches, werewolves, or doppelgängers, they must be invited first.” – Vampire Diaries Wiki
I’m somewhat indifferent to the classic horror monster that is the vampire. Back in elementary school, some of my classmates were really into vampires—not in a full-on “South Park vamp kid” way, but enough to bring them up constantly, especially as Halloween rolled around. I thought vampires had unique aspects, but never quite understood the hype. Perhaps that was due to my lack of vampire knowledge then (and now), or perhaps it was because, at their core, vampires are a bit dull. Sure, they have cool-looking fangs, can suck blood, can transform into bats, and are allergic to garlic, yet I found those characteristics to make vampires one of the more mundane horror creatures out there.
The vampires in Ryan Coogler’s 2025 horror/adventure Sinners, share those characteristics but don’t present themselves as entities of gothic evil. While they certainly are the antagonists of the film, how the lead vampire, Remmick (Jack O’Connell), acts is quite endearing when compared to famous vampires such as Count Orlok or Dracula. Remmick is a friendly vampire, only wanting to transform the humans of Clarksdale, Mississippi to give them the gift of “eternal life”. Yet, Remmick faces a major obstacle: a party at Club Juke, a newly established juke joint founded by identical twin brothers, Smoke and Stack (Michael B. Jordan). The club caters to the Black community in Clarksdale—except for Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), Stack’s former flame. What sets this film apart is the characters’ unease over Remmick’s possible ties to the Ku Klux Klan. The underlying tension of racism, intertwined with the looming horror of a vampire, adds a chilling layer to the film, heightening its suspense. Remmick of course, is unable to get inside Club Juke without a verbal invitation, so he stays outside, yet his presence piques the interest of Stack, the unguarded brother, so he tells Mary to go and interrogate Remmick, to see if Remmick is actually a good guy. Unfortunately for Stack, this is one of the biggest mistakes (or, shall we say ‘sins’) of the main characters, as Mary is transformed into a vampire off-screen, and then gets mistakenly invited inside, where she wreaks havoc, transforming Stack into a vampire, along with a few of the other patrons.
During this time, the film primarily follows musical prodigy Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore (Miles Canton) as he shares his gift for blues music with Club Juke, all while trying to win over Pearline (Jayme Lawson). As the story unfolds, it’s revealed that Sammie is the vampires’ top target—they seek to transform him, harnessing his soulful sound to lure new recruits into their grasp. Music plays a vital role in the film, serving as both a representation of Clarksdale’s vibrant community and a powerful reflection of its stark racial divide. Music ends up being the greatest weapon of the film, as shown by Sammie’s guitar, with it being the key to stopping the vampire’s reign once and for all.
My favorite scene in the film is its powerful ending, where an elderly Sammie plays electric blues in a club aptly named Pearline’s. As Stack and Mary step inside, they offer Sammie a choice: embrace immortality or let his life run its natural course. He refuses but confesses that the unforgettable night at Club Juke was the “best day of my life.” In a quiet moment of understanding, Stack and Mary agree before walking away, leaving Sammie alone in the dimly lit nightclub.
This ending is deeply impactful, revealing that the true villains of the story were never the vampires—it was the Ku Klux Klan. While the Klan plays a relatively minor role in the larger narrative, their aim is clear: the eradication of Black lives. In contrast, the vampires seek unity, transcending race and division. This is why Stack and Mary give Sammie the choice—they recognize the struggles he’s endured, leaving him to decide whether to remain in a fractured world or step into one where differences dissolve. Despite its powerful ending, I did have a few critiques of Sinners.
First, the title. My friend John told me he had participated in a Warner Brothers survey a few months prior to help determine the film’s name. The studio was torn between “Sinners” and “Damned”, with the former ultimately winning. However, neither title quite captures the essence of the story. A more fitting name, in my opinion, would have been “Club Juke”, given that the club serves as a major obstacle for the vampires and its music is so electrifying that it awakens musicians from both the past and future. Additionally, when Smoke annihilates the Ku Klux Klan members outside the club, he does so with such fierce passion—clutching onto that night as if it were the most significant moment of his life.
Another issue I had was the pacing. The first act moves slowly, dedicated almost entirely to character introductions. While these moments are valuable—especially since many characters ultimately share the same fate—the buildup lingers longer than necessary. The second act, however, is where the film truly shines. Club Juke’s introduction breathes life into the narrative, making the venue feel like an unstoppable force of its own—a character in its own right. That illusion of invincibility shatters when Grace Chow (Li Jun Li) foolishly allows the vampires inside, setting off a thrilling climax. Grace’s decision is infuriating, but it leads to such a gripping sequence that I can’t complain—well, except for one thing. During the climax, I found myself battling a different horror: the two women seated next to me. Their constant chatter made it feel like I was stuck in a sports bar rather than an early screening of a highly anticipated film. I pride myself on watching movies with my full attention, allowing the story to unfold as intended. But their running commentary made it difficult to stay immersed. To make matters worse, they had their phones out, too—a blatant disregard for basic theater etiquette. How they managed to score tickets to an early screening with such obnoxious behavior is beyond me.
My frustrating theater experience aside, Ryan Coogler’s Sinners is a standout film. With its stellar performances, striking cinematography, and impeccable set design, it is a film that I feel will remain significant for a long time. While some pacing choices felt unusual, the film remains a bold and engaging horror piece—one that I could easily see earning a few Academy Award nominations.
All things considered, I’d rate Sinners a solid four out of five stars.
Steven Spielberg’s Empire of the Sun, featuring a young Christian Bale, vividly captures the chaos and uncertainty of war. Set during the Japanese occupation of China, just after the outbreak of WWII, the film follows Jim, a privileged British boy living in Shanghai, whose world is shattered when Japanese troops invade. Separated from his parents, he is thrust into a harsh POW camp, where he must endure years of struggle and survival.
Beyond its gripping historical narrative, Empire of the Sun offers a profound exploration of empathy, illustrating how war’s devastation extends beyond the battlefield—affecting not just soldiers, but civilians trapped in its wake.
An estimated 20 million Chinese soldiers and civilians lost their lives during the Sino-Japanese War, which later merged into World War II (1937-1945). The conditions in prison camps were brutal and inhumane, drawing comparisons to the Nazi concentration camps in Germany. The rise of fascism in Italy, Germany, and Japan offers valuable lessons for modern-day society, as conflicts around the world continue to bring tragedy to countless lives.
Wars and mass killings continue to devastate Ukraine, Palestine, the Congo, Sudan, and many other nations. The Geneva Academy reports over 45 armed conflicts spanning four continents, raising alarms for the U.N. and NATO. As violence escalates, global stability weakens, yet meaningful action remains elusive.
There’s no universal solution to ending violence worldwide—many obstacles stand in the way, from dictatorships and terrorism to economic instability and political turmoil. In some regions, fear silences voices, preventing people from challenging their own governments. Strict censorship laws in countries like North Korea and Russia further suppress dissent, making open criticism dangerous.
Empire of the Sun exposes the devastation caused by war-driven nations, where dictators seize power and leave destruction in their wake. The fight for control silences voices, preventing people from standing up to oppression. Many flee rather than endure harsh conditions at home, fueling mass migrations—Latin American immigration to the U.S. has surged 40% to over 200%, while thousands from Africa have moved to Europe in recent decades.
Political upheaval, economic hardship, and climate crises drive many to leave their home nations. The journey requires immense sacrifice, but staying behind often means enduring unbearable conditions. War and chaos leave people with little choice but to flee in search of stability. Instead of just focusing on migrants, more attention should be given to the root causes of instability in their home countries. If democracy is to stand strong, global unrest cannot be ignored. As Americans, we often take our security and freedoms for granted, overlooking the immense struggles faced elsewhere.
What makes Anora stand out from all the other 2024 releases (at least the ones I’ve seen) is that writer/director Sean Baker has immense respect for the audience, allowing them to go on a wild, uncensored ride with no restrictions whatsoever. This bravery shows that Baker truly wants the audience to feel like they aren’t watching a movie but experiencing a slice of life.
There were several instances during my viewing of Anora where I was blown away by how real everything seemed, no matter how absurd it was. For example, right after Ivan “Vanya” Zarkharov (Mark Eydelshteyn) abandons Ani (Mikey Madison) at their mansion with Garnik (Vache Tovmasyan) and Igor (Yuriy Borisov), Ani does everything she can to escape but is subdued by Igor. She screams, kicks, and bites yet cannot escape due to Igor’s firm grasp. Then, when Toros (Karren Karagulian) arrives, the situation escalates due to Ani’s fear and confusion. Seeing the three frustrated Russians scramble to subdue Ani while simultaneously expressing their disdain for Ivan was as entertaining as it was hilarious. From my perspective, it seemed as if the actors had an abundance of adrenaline while filming this sequence, which ultimately elevated it for me.
In fact, Anora would not be what it is without its stellar performances. Mikey Madison’s portrayal of Ani is one of, if not the best, performances I have seen in recent years. I know I have a tendency to commend good acting quite a bit, but Madison’s performance was far beyond anything I’ve seen recently. Her portrayal of Ani felt so effortless, as if some internal part of herself was actually Ani. Her innate sense of awareness in the role definitely earned her that Academy Award for Best Leading Actress.
Madison’s performance isn’t the only one that’s spectacular; in fact, I’d say every performance in this film felt genuine and authentic. While Yuriy Borisov deserved his nomination for Best Supporting Actor, I actually enjoyed Karren Karagulian’s performance as the frustrated Toros more. With Karagulian’s portrayal, I could tell how visibly determined he was to find Ivan, thanks to his mannerisms and the way he spoke to bystanders, as if they were inconveniencing him.
Writing and acting aside, the entertaining, visually appealing film has an ambiguous ending that left many (including myself) confused about its meaning in the grand scheme of the story. After some deep thinking, I feel as if I have a grasp—not a full interpretation, but a grasp—on the ambiguous ending. However, it requires some insight into what I believe to be the core theme of the film: control.
From start to finish, Anora is a film about control. Ani’s job as a sex worker is to let aroused men believe they are in control when, in reality, she is the one in control. She flirts with men daily, giving them lap dances, yet acts like she respects them when she does not. In fact, there’s a scene at the beginning of the film where Ani and her friend Lulu (Luna Sofia Miranda) discuss how disparaging some of the customers are due to their disgusting requests. This quick discussion, held during a smoke break, perfectly illustrates how some men view sex workers merely as objects for their pleasure rather than as actual human beings.
Once Ani meets Ivan, she leads him to believe he is in control, but that changes when Ivan unexpectedly proposes to her in Las Vegas, and the two get married. As Ivan’s wife, Ani loses the control she had over him but gains a big mansion and all the money she could ever want to compensate for that. It’s unclear whether Ani loves Ivan for who he is or for his money. Ivan was most definitely a toxic partner through and through, yet I feel Ani genuinely loved him for who he was because he was likely the first man (in a long while) to pretend to genuinely care for her. Perhaps Ani’s naivety prevented her from seeing Ivan’s true colors right away, or perhaps she was blinded by greed; I’m not too sure.
When Ivan abandons Ani, she is then controlled by Garnik, Igor, and Toros. She puts up a big fight but eventually succumbs to Toros’ agreement to find Ivan and annul the marriage. While searching for Ivan, Ani is still controlled by the three but has more freedom.
When they eventually find Ivan, she tries to control him, but her efforts are thwarted by Diamond’s (Lindsey Normington) repeated insults and battering. Ani then attacks Diamond with rage and frustration at the entire day’s events, all directed at Diamond. Her fight with Diamond is when she realizes she has lost control of her life and that her life will likely never be the same again.
After that, she meets Ivan’s mother (Darya Ekamasova), where she tries to regain control of her life with Ivan, only to find out that Ivan was, in fact, using her as a means of rebelling against his parents and not because he cared about her. Because of this, Ani refuses to board the airplane and threatens to sue the Zakharov family for the emotional distress they caused her, but Ivan’s mother coldly retorts, telling her she would lose everyone and everything she cared about if she did that. As Ani’s last attempt at control fails, she sits on the airplane, overhears Ivan’s parents berating him, and then joins in, but it seemingly goes nowhere.
After the divorce is official, Ani is finally free of control. She tells Ivan’s mother Ivan’s true feelings about him, leaving in a blaze of glory as Ivan’s father laughs, much to the chagrin of his family.
Yet, Ani’s story doesn’t end there. Instead, she spends time with Igor, who has been nothing but kind to her, yet Ani is too distracted by the chaotic events to acknowledge him. As the two smoke and recall the events of the past few days, Ani questions Igor about his control, to which Igor tells her he would not lose control and that all he was trying to do was keep Ani under control but struggled due to Ani’s lack of control.
The next day, Igor drives Ani home and gives her the wedding ring Ivan had purchased for her. This leads Ani to initiate sex with him but then stops when he tries to kiss her, leading her to sob in his arms.
So, with Ani’s control of her life constantly shifting throughout the film, what does the ending mean?
I believe the ending depicts someone who has shielded themselves from love for so long, only to be heartbroken when true love did not work out because they were used as a means of rebellion. After Igor attempts to kiss Ani, she rejects it, possibly reminded of the weight of her experience. She feels exhausted, humiliated, and abandoned. She finally lets out her true feelings, allowing herself to regain control of her life after what seemed like an eternity.
Undeniably, Anora stands as the greatest film of 2024, deserving every bit of its flawless five-star rating.
Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey is the cinematic equivalent of a Jello Salad—a dish that looks good and might even taste good, yet defies its own category as one of the least salad-like “salads” out there. Much like how the original creator of the Jello Salad, Mrs. John E. Cook, likely intended it as a treat rather than a true salad, Perkins seems to have approached his 2025 horror-comedy with a similar mindset. The Monkey isn’t simply a horror film; it’s a gleeful, absurd, and oddly satisfying treat masquerading as something far more sinister.
Based on a Stephen King short story, The Monkey centers on a wind-up toy monkey with a liking for murder—an incredibly bizarre premise. One may assume that adapting such material would result in a straightforward horror film, but that is not the case. Like the multifaceted chaos of a Jello Salad, The Monkey leans into humor, balancing its darker elements with an unapologetically comical tone.
Unlike Perkins’ previous film, Longlegs—a gritty, brooding crime-horror reminiscent of The Silence of the Lambs—The Monkey opts for a lighter approach. Perkins injects playful absurdity into the story, using the toy monkey as a vehicle to lampoon the genre’s conventions. The closest cinematic comparison may be Five Nights at Freddy’s, but where Freddy’s stumbles into absurdity, The Monkey fully embraces it, crafting a film that’s pun intended, bananas.
The comedy’s lack of subtlety works surprisingly well, with outrageous gore amplifying the absurdity of death itself. The creative kills are so over-the-top that they become comedic highlights. However, where the film falters is in its emotional depth. The first act establishes a heartfelt bond between identical twin brothers, Hal and Billy (Christian Convery) and their mother (Tatiana Maslany), as well as a strained sibling relationship. Sadly, this emotional groundwork doesn’t carry through the film’s following acts.
Another area that feels underdeveloped is the antagonist’s motivation. Without giving away spoilers, the solution to their motive feels overly simplistic, leaving room for deeper exploration. Similarly, the dialogue occasionally comes across as too “on-the-nose.” While this may have been intentional, it detracts from the otherwise clever tone of the film.Despite these shortcomings, The Monkey is a refreshingly self-aware blend of horror and comedy. Its commitment to shock value and absurdity makes for an engaging and unique viewing experience. With strong performances, creative writing, and a clear sense of its own identity, The Monkey delivers a delightfully unhinged ride. In conclusion, this film is as bananas as its premise suggests, earning a respectable three and a half out of five stars.
The other day, I was walking my dog around my neighborhood when I came across a Little Free Library. Curious, I took a peek inside to see if anything would catch my eye. My eyes landed on “The Other Boleyn Girl”, a historical fiction novel written by Phillipa Gregory, who is an English historical novelist, best known for her works “The Other Boleyn Girl,” “The White Queen,” and “The Red Queen,” among others. I have always been fascinated by history and what things were like in different parts of the world, so I picked it up right away.
This book is set in Tudor England (1520s-1530s), during King Henry VIII’s reign. The main character is Mary Boleyn, one of the three famous Boleyn children, which include Mary, Anne, and their brother, George. At the beginning of the story, Mary, the main character, is already married to her first husband, William Carey.
As the book progresses, it shows the rise and fall of the Boleyn family, following the romantic endeavors of the famous sisters. To spare the details, there is an abundance of drama in this book. If you love drama but prefer a slow, detailed story and plotline, this book is for you.
I like that the book brings attention to the lesser-known Boleyn sister, Mary. I think that most people have heard of Anne Boleyn. She was the second queen consort to King Henry VIII but was later accused of adultery and sentenced to death by beheading. I feel that not as many people have heard of Mary or her story, as she played an important role in creating the image of the Boleyn family we have today.
There is a lot of intrigue and history in this novel, and it was such a fun read! If you are into historical fiction, or interested in English history, I would recommend this book. It is a bit of a long read, coming in at 672 pages, but if you are ready to sit for a while and dig deep into a book, it is a great choice.
If you aren’t much of a reader, there is also a movie by the same name you can watch! It’s available on Amazon Prime and Apple TV, as well as on YouTube. It stars Scarlett Johannson and Natalie Portman, along with cameos from other famous actors.
There is no single person in this world who has the same experience of pain. Some have more pain than others, and some have less, yet they respond to that pain as if they’ve just lost everything in the world. What writer/director Jesse Eisenberg brilliantly depicts in his buddy road dramedy A Real Pain is how different people react to pain in their personal lives, while on a Holocaust tour. Each character involved in the tour is in some sort of pain, yet they choose to hide it. Well, each character except for the eccentric slacker Benji (Kieran Culkin), a hurt soul who uses his emotions to guide the tour in directions nobody on the tour expected.
I’ll admit that some of the scenes with Benji criticizing the tour were “a real pain” to watch, but I believe that was the intent. When somebody is in “a real pain,” they often lash out at things that don’t need to be lashed out at, as they view things differently. I can remember a few specific instances in my life where, like Benji, I lashed out at things that I probably shouldn’t have. I was extremely emotional; taking my pain out on things that I shouldn’t have.
While I’m on the topic, I’d like to take a deep dive into Benji’s complicated character. He’s an extroverted slacker. Or is he? I’d make the argument that Benji is an introvert at heart, and is only comfortable being outgoing and funny around people he loves (like David (Jesse Eisenberg), for instance), which is why he acts extroverted. Similarly to the pain aspect, that’s a characteristic of Benji that I see in myself, as, when I’m around people I love, I feel more comfortable being outgoing; whereas, if I’m around people I’m not too familiar with, then I tend to follow the status quo, like David. My actions around others I am comfortable with have had them mistake me for an extrovert when in reality, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure, it’s fun for me to perform and be outgoing, but I prefer to be alone or with a small number of people at a time. Being around big groups exhausts me socially. Anyway, Benji uses David’s presence in the group to get the group comfortable with one another, but he does have some moments where he is unable to hide his pain, making things extremely uncomfortable for the group. Those moments make me wonder if Eisenberg wrote the character of Benji as a reflection of the person he feels like he should be, or if he based Benji on somebody else. Regardless, Benji was a great character, and Culkin deserved that Best Supporting Actor nomination.
By far my favorite moment in the film is when David and Benji get off the train and realize that they got off too late. At first, David panics, but then Benji tells David that he knew that the group was getting off at that stop and that he didn’t want to wake David up, because David’s sleeping reminded him of old times they had together. David is understandably upset at this; however, his frustration quickly turns to joy, as Benji leads him onto the next train, avoiding paying for a ticket. I loved that entire sequence for two reasons. The first being that I had a similar experience during my freshman year of college, where I accidentally fell asleep in my dorm room hours before my cross country team’s “Christmas Night Run,” and my roommate at the time, didn’t wake me up, but went to the run himself. Thankfully, I was able to catch up to the team about a mile into the run, but, like David, I was annoyed that I had not woken up before the event. The second reason I love this moment is because it is one of the few moments in the film that David and Benji truly feel alive together, both as they used to when they were young. Seeing a careless Benji sneak a nervous David into the first-class section of the train brought immense joy to my heart.
My only real gripe with A Real Pain is that it can be slow at times. It is a film that requires patience from its viewers, so if you’re a viewer who gets frustrated with characters acting like idiots, then this isn’t the film for you.
Despite that, I believe Jesse Eisenberg’s A Real Pain to be a fantastic film. With excellent performances, beautiful cinematography, and a somber, yet wholesome narrative, it is a film that I think will become a cult classic as time goes by. I rate A Real Pain four out of five stars.
