May 2025 Watch Part 1

Saturday, 24 May 2025

I’ll admit, I have procrastinated a bunch this month. Don’t get me wrong, I’m making good time on everything, but I take soooo many breaks. Primarily this has meant watching a bunch of new television and movies, though I’ve also read about four books since the start of the month… I decided to divide this month’s responses into two parts for the first time since last year due to the amount of things I watched. I also tried something new with the Child’s Play franchise responses, though we’ll have to see if I end up doing anything like that again.

Climax (2018, dir. Gaspar Noé)

Climax follows a dance crew whose sangria is spiked with LSD; isolated in a dance school building, they must survive a night of paranoia and confusion.

This was pitched to me as “the best horror movie of 2018” which is just an incredibly high bar because I think 2018 had some pretty solid entries into the horror canon. I was interested in what else was suggested of it—the visuals, mainly—and so I gave it a watch pretty quickly after I heard about it. I realized very early on in this movie that it is simply not for me. I have a ton of points of praise for it, but at the end of the day the subject matter just did not stand out to me. Three things I am generally not interested in: watching dancing, mass hysteria (using that term broadly), and horror based on drug use. This movie was all of those things, so while it was really cool to watch, it’s unlikely I’ll ever choose to see it again.

This movie is absolutely feverish, which was great. I’d argue the most important trait of horror is the ambience and this movie undeniably delivers. The sort of disorder and anxiety was palpable—the winding movements of the camera mimicking the movements of the dance crew as they walked down endless hallways despite a very limited space in actuality, were beautifully done. It created this tension and agitation and stress that genuinely got my heart rate up, but this excellent use of the environment is also why I don’t think I can watch it again; I’m just not a fan of movies that make me anxious. Still, I cannot stress enough how well this movie created ambience.

In addition to the restlessness communicated by the camera work, the cinematography was just so cool. It’s hard to explain because the film isn’t divided into typical scenes; it has these phases with distinct stylistic choices to divide between them. I don’t want to give them away because I think they’re a delight to see, but they stretch on for long periods of time and each is so different. The opening ten-ish minutes were my favorite, as they immediately grabbed my attention despite the straightforward and almost bland simplicity of the angles and cuts. There is something about sitting with the same thing for an extended period of time that really does something so interesting and unique.

Aside from the movie just not having a plot I was really interested in, I was not wowed by the story or characters. Watching the movie makes it clear that other aspects of filmmaking are prioritized over these, and the film does a great job of being carried by these aspects. But it also means that for someone who was not particularly compelled by what the movie was going for in terms of horror or themes, I found it difficult to connect to. I don’t want to criticize the movie for this as it very much did exactly what it was going for, but I will point out that it is part of the reason I’m not a huge fan.

If you love cinematography, dance, ambience, then this movie is for you. It is genuinely very cool and worth the watch for the structure alone if you get the opportunity. This is a stunning movie with a bold style that works exactly as it is supposed to despite the entire eschewing of a typical plot. If it at all sounds interesting, I would recommend giving it a chance.

Severance, Season 2 (2025, created by Dan Erickson)

Severance primarily follows the data refining office full of “severed workers,” employees who have had a procedure that allows for two separate selves, a work self and personal self. The second season occurs directly after an attempt by these workers to alert the people in their outside lives to the mistreatment they face on the “severed floor.”

The first season of this show really set such a high bar for its second with stellar writing, interesting and meaningful visuals, and killer performances. It truly is such a carefully crafted show, which is clear from its clarity with its themes to the precision of its production. Before I begin my response to the second season, I want to correct some statements from my review of the first. I previously felt some of the twists and plot developments of the first season, particularly those at the end, were occasionally muddled or disconnected from earlier moments. After rewatching them in context with the second season, I no longer felt this. I found it consistent, even as the pacing took a turn in the new episodes. The only criticism I really stand by is how the romance felt shoehorned in, but with this season in mind, my comment on it is a little more complex. These new episodes definitely fell victim to the sophomore season issue of pairing everyone up in a relationship and focusing on that. This was a disappointment in that it meant less chance for interesting pair-ups throughout the events of the season, and less time spend with the core MDR four as a unit. With that said, I thought that what was done with this choice worked, as we got plenty of character exploration, worldbuilding development, and interesting plots with what did happen. Not only that, but these choices were excellent in brining out the core themes of the show and exploring them in an interesting way.

One of the excellent things this season carried over from the last was the show’s trust in its audience. The choice to rely on visual cues, reasonable assumptions in dialogue, and actors’ performances meant that the work felt on the same level as its audience, treating them with respect and trust rather than over-explaining. That means that while there are occasional jumps, the relationship between show and viewer allows for those bridges to be crossed, at least when watching the episodes successively.

I have a hard time picking out my favorite part of this season. The writing was excellent, with beautiful pacing that ramps up tension before going into two separate episodes exploring side characters. These episodes directly before the final two create this release of tension with their slowness and subject material that allows the overall tone to remain more understated than without them. This is one of the things I love about the show—that despite the sci-fi subject material, it remains fairly grounded in so many ways. The break from momentum to explore these characters in a season already so devoted to spending time with other characters did something really interesting that I appreciated.

Also a contender for my favorite aspect of the show is its visuals. These are absolutely stunning between both seasons, with meaning in every single shot, an emphasis on composition in its simple yet symbolically rich sets, and use of effects during the filming process that create just spectacular television. I don’t have the expertise to explain it with all the grace I want to, so I’ll direct attention to Thomas Flight’s video “The Genius of Severance's Disturbing Precision,” which goes into detail on the show’s unique visual style in terms of its inspiration and meaning.

Finally, I have to mention the brilliant performances this season. I struggle to call out anyone in particular, but I have to give kudos to Tramell Tillman who did an incredible job with Seth Milchick. But don’t get me wrong, everyone is doing incredible things for this show; the characters have such depth and charm, and their presence makes the world so much fuller and richer. That we got to spend so much time with different characters this season was a blast, as it allows for increased complexity in the world of the show and the meaning behind it.

The sophomore season of this show was a stellar entry into its canon, drawing on all the strengths of its previous season but still doing something fresh and exciting. The episodic element was so strong for this season, with each episode feeling like a cohesive movie on its own; I say this in relation to both the visual extravagance and the written precision. I absolutely cannot wait for the next season to come out, as I’m excited to see more of what this team has to offer.

You (2018–2025, developed by Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble)

You is a thriller told from the mind of Joe, a stalker, as he becomes involved with various objects of attention over the course of a few years. As he travels the world, more and more people become embroiled in his murderous and kidnapping ways.

I watched this show in its early seasons before getting frustrated by the direction it was taking; it goes from this fairly serious (yet definitely containing elements of irony) thriller to a sort of strange, overexaggerated parody of itself. When I originally began to notice this, I was put off by it, but rewatching it all at once I found it actually really delightful. It’s kind of hard to explain what exactly happens to it, the way the serious drama full of ironic critique sort of devolves into an almost soapy, faux redemption arc for Joe. I think it’s so difficult to articulate exactly what happens because the very subtle irony present in the first season is entirely lost by the second; it becomes in those episodes quite in your face, so when later seasons come, those elements feel increasingly less ironic.

I use the second season as a marker because it sets the show apart from what the first season did and really catapults the plot in a new direction right away. We get a similar set up to the first run of episodes, but with a different relationship to the main plot. For example, season one has Joe consistently aware of the situation with the neighbor kid, Paco, though his involvement is passive and distant for most of the season. Compare this to his friendship with neighbor Ellie, which pretty immediately has him making active decisions to involve himself in that situation, the consequences of which are quickly plot relevant. This gives a new angle to a similar set up, but it also means that Joe’s decisions are much more narratively impactful; it goes from character study attempting to scare through understanding to using character to further the plot. We see something similar as the seasons go on, Joe interested in self-improvement and making changes in his life yet unable to quell his dark urges. The perspective the show has on Joe is something new; you’re still not ever really rooting for him, but it opens up questions about redemption and truth that are not necessarily present from the start of the show.

This season also marks a sudden interest in class as a major theme. It’s sort of implicit in the first season, and tangential to that it has something to say about Joe’s liberalism in the face of his absolute violence and relationship to women, but it really takes main stage in the last four seasons. All of them involve Joe being included in ultra-wealthy circles, the figures of which wind up dead, mostly at his hand. The thing is that the show doesn’t really say much about this; it mainly serves to up the states with the murders being so high-profile. Frequently Joe is able to restate his tragic backstory to make connections to people in his original social class, as well as act as the perspective character into these wealthy circles. The fourth season is particularly egregious with the way the dialogue becomes not only repetitive but on the nose, especially in relation to the question of wealth. There are multiple scenes where wealthy characters stand around talking about all the money and power they have over the poor, in case the “Eat the Rich Killer” wasn’t enough. That all begs the question of what the show is saying about liberalism and class, although I struggle to come to any distinct conclusion. At times it feels like a solid joke about the way men who view themselves as liberal can be just as violent against women, in this case more, than those who do not (there is a very subtle intersectional understanding, though sex is the most prominent consideration by a lot). And I think that’s the biggest issue with what this show is saying (or failing to say), because it just sort of presents that idea for five seasons with mediocre attempts to broaden its scope and never presenting an answer to the question it poses except for maybe the ending, debatably.

Also related to themes though a huge pivot at the same time, there are a number of concepts that come up repeatedly: writer characters, gluten intolerance, “mommy bloggers,” and twins. These all make an appearance in at least three seasons, by name, and I have to believe they speak to something the show is trying to say. The gluten intolerance one seems like pretty clear shorthand for entitled characters; however, they occasionally appear when Joe has them trapped in his box, so it could also be them showing humanity, but the show presents it more mixed opinion than that. Actually, the idea of health concerns (allergies, diabetes, etc.) in the box is fairly prevalent, though I can’t see this as more than plot devices. The “mommy bloggers” are quite vaguely poked fun at, though ultimately played very straight; twins are similar in that any meaning you could pull from their presence would be a bit of a stretch or demanding very close attention. Finally, the motif of writing plays a huge role, but I want to separate it out from Joe’s interest in reading literature. This is also majorly present, but is more of a blatant device in the show and thus not for me to discuss here. The writer character begins with Beck, and I have to say that watching that season originally, it was my biggest gripe with the show. I am just not a fan of writer characters in general. But they nonetheless appear frequently in the show, all writing in different genres or mediums, and culminating with Joe developing an interest in writing vampire erotica. Honestly, I’m just surprised the show didn’t end with a voice over revealing Joe wrote the show we’re watching (and glad, this is a hated trope of mine).

Finally, I just have a few small gripes with the show. For one, it is absolutely committed to representations of distinct places that communicate no character of those places whatsoever; perhaps this ties into the presence of so many wealthy characters, but the locations all feel so indistinct despite that the setting changes in each season. For another, the music is so poorly chosen, especially in the later seasons. It’s strange, because it’s a lot of music I personally have on my playlist, but this also means I know when it just absolutely does not fit the vibe. Like, why is Hozier starting out this season? Why is Mitski playing non-didactically in this bookstore? My last small gripe is the amount of internet jargon, which increases over the seasons but comes to a head in the final one. It feels so strange and uninspired, and in the last season it definitely felt like the writing itself was hashing out internet arguments in the dialogue.

So, with all my criticism it’s likely to appear as though I hate the show, but I don’t. I think it’s absolutely wild and a fun time, even though it is so, so worthy of critique. If it’s what you like out of television, it’s perfect, but I think it’s important to take it for what it is. Which is notably not what the first season necessarily presents.

Child’s Play (Franchise) (1988-2019, created by Don Mancini)

All right, so obviously I knew about the Chucky series from being on the playground as a child, but for a very long time I never gave the movies a chance because I thought they didn’t sound very good. They came back into my consciousness while watching Bryan Fuller’s episodes of Queer for Fear, after which I decided to give the franchise a try. I watched the first movie and then jumped immediately into the episodes of the television series that had been released at that point. I was a pretty big fan, all things considered, namely that I don’t often like horror television that much and I didn’t like the first film. But I knew that something had to happen between that first film and the television show to get the characters to that place where I was really interested in them, and I have had the rest of the film series on my list for years now. This month, I decided to devote my weekend (Sunday) to finally, finally getting through it. This response is going to be to the entire franchise, because I think the movies work best as a series.

The original Child’s Play movie from 1988 (dir. Tom Holland) is about a serial killer whose soul is put into a child’s doll that winds up in the hand of Andy Barclay, a young boy. Of course, people around Andy wind up dead, Chucky becomes increasingly human, and eventually Chucky turns on Andy so he can transfer his soul into his body. The rest of the franchise follows Chucky throughout the years, vanquished at the end of each film before being reborn in various ways to continue his murderous ways.

Child’s Play 2 (1990, dir. John Lafia) is the sequel to the first movie. Andy is living with a foster family after the events of the previous film, and I have to say they are not my favorite characters to watch. It took me several times over the years to get through this movie; honestly you realize pretty quickly with this film their biggest weakness, which is that the characters who are not directly involved in the Chucky storyline are really boring. I consistently find the “doll plotlines” more engaging than the human characters, which makes the original trilogy pretty difficult to get through, as it’s entirely focused on them. We’re aware of Chucky’s motivations, but it’s just this pretty bland creature feature/slasher trilogy where Chucky as a character is solid enough as a villain but there is nobody for him to truly interact with.

Child’s Play 3 (1991, dir. Jack Bender) alleviates some of these issues with older characters, but still they are not as interesting as Brad Dourif voicing a puppet. It’s the final installment in the original trilogy following Andy, when he is sent to military school. This is actually my least favorite of the films, just because I found the setting really uninteresting, especially compared to its rendition in the series. I know it’s not entirely fair to compare them, but I actually really liked this plotline in the show and it’s not even the first time I’ve compared something to it in a review, and at least this time it’s warranted. Despite that, I though the lighting was really gorgeous; you do not see darks like this today and it was just so beautiful. Also, I hate to say this because I love a haunted house carnival ride, but the climax was so boring. I found throughout the franchise that this was consistently my least favorite part of each movie, as it often went into these dialogue-light fight scenes that work in a lot of slashers, but less so when the main draw of the movie is like a wise-cracking puppet of a doll.

Bride of Chucky (1998, dir. Ronny Yu) is where things start to get really good. We’re finally introduced to Chucky’s old flame, Tiffany Valentine, who is turned into a doll due to her tumultuous relationship with Chucky. The difference between this movie and the previous is utterly incredible, and I attribute that one hundred percent to the introduction of Jennifer Tilly (actor). She immediately brings up the mood and is just a blast to watch. The banter between Chucky and Tiffany is a super fun dynamic, especially contrasted against the blandness of the human characters. I thought they actually complemented the rest of the plot the best in this movie, but they were just super boring again. Every time they were on screen I was just like, “Let me see the dolls fight again!” This is the first of the duo of movies in which Tiffany is a main character, and I just have to say those are my favorite two movies of the series.

The second is Seed of Chucky (2004, dir. Don Mancini), which is such a fun movie. Chucky and Tiffany’s child from the previous movie brings them back to “life” after living as a doll for many years; they do this by directing their souls into puppet reproductions of their doll bodies made for a film about the urban legend building for over a decade at this point. As Chucky and Tiffany enter parenthood, they struggle to put their killing ways behind them. Notably, this metatextual angle really does not return in the rest of the film franchise, a lack of cohesion that I adore. It also brings in Jennifer Tilly (character), who just happens to look and sound identical to the human body of Tiffany, though this is also never acknowledged except in a joke about her voice over the phone. It’s so ridiculous; there’s this festival for ventriloquism with this utterly devoted crowd of like rocker-types at the start, and I’m so obsessed with the world building. Once again, this is not returned to, both in the other movies or in the rest of this movie. Actually, my only note for this is “VFX door,” because it really stood out to me.

The next phase of the franchise finally introduces my second favorite character after Tiffany, Nica. Curse of Chucky (2013, dir. Don Mancini) follows her family being killed after Chucky is shipped to her house; he used to be interested in Nica’s mother and family, and hopes to exploit that now. This movie had a few overhead shots of Chucky walking, which was different and fun. I have to say, I love Nica’s plot, mainly because I knew where it would end up and I wanted to see how it got there. The meat of it is in the following film, but this one gives a bit of an origin story which is neat. I have to say, tonally and ambience-wise this movie was doing something really different. It took place in Nica’s mother’s house, which is this dark, dank mansion. It looks like a haunted house and that was such a change in vibe from the rest of the film.

Also with a unique setting was Cult of Chucky (2017, dir. Don Mancini), which takes place in a mental hospital. After being arrested for the murders in the previous movie, Nica is moved to a medium security hospital, where of course Chucky appears. This is where we learn that Chucky can have multiple forms at once, a lore development I knew was coming although I was sort of bored by how it was used in this movie. I honestly didn’t think I was going to like this movie all that much, but it was pretty cool and I’m not just saying that because I got to see Fiona Dourif in the other role she plays in this franchise, which is actually the whole reason I finished it in the first place. My main issue with the Nica duo of movies is that I’m just not a huge fan of how they fit into the franchise. They work in the sense that it’s comprised of very distinct phases, but watching them in the same day as the other films, I am pretty much only watching them in the context of the series, as I don’t think they stand as well on their own as either of the other two phases.

Finally, I watched the rebooted Child’s Play (2019, dir. Lars Klevberg), perhaps notably the only film Don Mancini did not write. It follows a new Andy Barclay as his mother gifts him a “Buddi,” which is essentially a digital home assistant in the form of a doll; it had been sabotaged at the factory and only wants to make Andy happy. I think the concept was all right, but not particularly interesting. The ideas of bringing in technology and making it almost a “kid’s on bikes” style story actually seem to work pretty well to “refresh” the subject matter, but in a sort of generic way that responds to trends in media from right before it was released. The aging up of the characters worked a lot better to make it appeal to a certain audience, but the actual plot was really boring to me. The digital angle was perhaps innovative when the film was released, but I’ve seen similar plots since it came out that just did something similar so much better. Its themes were underwhelming and it had neither the charm nor humor of the initial leg of the franchise, and did not capture my attention. The style could’ve been interesting had it been more meaningful, but it felt hollow and generic.

Overall, I enjoyed my time with these films. They definitely work better as a cohesive series than standalone movies, and there are highlights throughout the franchise, but I had a really fun time seeing where the story went over the years.