June 2025 Watch

Tuesday, 1 July 2025

This month has been all dissertation work and between that, watching improv comedy, paranormal stories YouTube videos, horror anthology television, and a really specific kind of documentary/docuseries. For that last one, I’m actually so picky but I have been loving the ones I love, so. If anyone wants to see my list of non-negotiables. I’ve also been so into desktop games—solitaire, spider solitaire, crosswords… These, a set of three themed paranormal stories, and a sweet treat make for the perfect evening.

The Monkey (2025, dir. Osgood Perkins)

The Monkey is a horror comedy based on a 1980 short story by Stephen King that follows Hal over two phases in his life: the first, when he finds a toy monkey as a child that causes the death of people around him, and the second, in which the monkey returns.

This movie is a case of trusting my gut; I saw the trailer and wasn’t interested but a particularly ridiculous shot (toy monkey-headed stripper, if must know) tempted me. I can’t exactly pinpoint what I didn’t like about it, but I’ll try. I think at the end of the day I just really don’t like King’s concepts/plots. I say that because structurally and stylistically the movie could’ve worked for me, but I struggled to get beyond the toy monkey of it all. Like, I liked the family drama and even though I wasn’t wowed by Theo James as Bill, I enjoyed the rest of the family.

I do really appreciate the stylization of the performances; Tatiana Maslany was my favorite of the bunch. Her almost noir-style deliveries of these gothic, cryptic lines were genuinely such a blast. It was good her character was only there in moderation, but I could’ve watched her performance for the whole hour and thirty-eight minute runtime. A similar exaggeration came with almost all of the characters, but it only worked some of the time. My main issue was Ricky, whose character lacked depth to an extent where it got just plain annoying. Mainly this was because he told us at least three times his motivation explicitly, which I was fed up with the first time. Giving a comparatively grounded performance was Colin O’Brien as Petey, who really charmed me. There was something about these exaggerated, over-the-top performances from everyone and then a moody yet witty teenager standing to the side that I found so funny.

The stylization also came up in the other elements of the movie, and I think I appreciate them more in retrospect than I did while watching it; that is, my notes are much harsher than I actually feel a few days later. It was cool to see, but it just did not grab my attention for whatever reason. And thinking about it for a few days, I think I know why that is. Simply put, I did not find this movie very funny. It is definitely something that stood out immediately, how many jokes were made compared to how many I laughed at, but really considering what makes a stylized and absurd movie work, is so often the humor. I honestly couldn’t tell you at the time of writing this if it was the jokes themselves or the delivery/timing, and I don’t plan to rewatch this to find out.

At the end of the day, I’m not a huge fan of Osgood Perkins’s directing. There are a few concepts of his I would still like to check out before I rule him out completely, especially after hearing such great things about some of his earlier films. But at this point I think it would be a case of being pleasantly surprised. I don’t have incredibly strong opinions on this movie; it was just mid.

Opus (2025, dir. Mark Anthony Green)

Opus is a 2025 thriller that follows Ariel, a young journalist looking to advance her career. She is one of a handful of guests invited to the release party for the newest album of pop superstar Alfred Moretti. Once there, it is revealed Moretti heads a cult. Naturally, the guests are slowly picked off until Ariel must make her daring escape. In the last few minutes of the movie, Ariel achieves fame as a writer chronicling her weekend at the compound, but the cult has dispersed into the world, just as they planned all along.

I went into this movie having absolutely no idea of its premise but I realized pretty early on exactly how the story was going to go. At least, I thought I did. Instead, I kept waiting for beats that didn’t come—Moretti pulling Ariel to the side and explaining why he brought her there, for example—or variations from structure—the whole movie being in the RV, to spitball—but they never came. The structure part was wishful thinking, hopes that arose because I was already bored by the first few minutes and rewriting it in my head (I eventually put this to the side and accepted it for what it was). But the beats, on the other hand, demonstrate a huge flaw in the movie: a use of basic structural elements like tropes as twists at the end of the narrative.

I will actually be specific with what I’m talking about, because I was so genuinely shocked at what the ending was trying to do. The movie literally starts with Ariel’s friend telling her how middle-of-the-road her life experience is and that she lacks a unique perspective on the world; this is understood to relate to her journalistic writing, where her career is somewhere between stagnant and just starting out. When she is invited to Moretti’s album release party, she is as shocked as everyone at her office, but for whatever reason no one thinks to actually question it. Ariel is included in her lack of curiosity; she finds the cult strange and focuses her investigation there, but doesn’t even blink at the fact she was invited by name when all the other guests are supremely famous or personal acquaintances of Moretti. In the final scene, Moretti reveals his plan from prison: that Ariel would write the book and put the cult in the public consciousness. Ariel is shocked by this, and I genuinely cannot tell if the audience is meant to be as well. This movie, notably, is not about Ariel’s unearned confidence that she’s the best in her industry despite any lack of recognition by any other character. But then I can’t actually say for certain what it is about, because I had been thinking the whole time that Ariel was supposed to be smart (putting a pin in that) but apparently that was not the case. It honestly just felt very disrespectful to the audience; I was shocked and appalled that this was apparently supposed to be a twist and not the literal premise of the movie. The whole scene reeked of what much of the film smelled like (how do we feel about that metaphor?)—telling us the theme.

We saw this issue with the themes being so painfully on the nose in the complete lack of character traits of the side cast. They were so lacking, I barely knew anything about them. I struggle with this form of horror/thriller/whatever that chooses to represent characters its target audience struggles to relate to and then treats them as fodder for the killer(s). To some extent, I understand the rhetorical choice, but it becomes unbearably boring to watch. I am not interested in characters who are comically self-absorbed and have no redeeming qualities to endear them to me—these don’t even have to be virtues, just anything to make them not stock characters. I also think that it doesn’t work as horror or even narratively, due to the lack of empathy the audience feels for them. You see this a lot with influencer characters, where they’re just hyperbolically shallow and if that’s the critique, I don’t think this is the best story format to explore it. There is a character like that in this movie and she is so insignificant both to the plot and as a character that I genuinely had no idea who she was when she was… let’s just say, facing her death. This movie has this habit of presuming it’s audience will be like, “Yeah, fuck this influencer, fuck this cult.” But it doesn’t take the time to actually explore what they’re doing at all. I’m not saying this as a bid to understand the humanity of all of a piece of media’s characters, although in most instances I think there’s a strong argument to be made for doing so, but simply because I find it so utterly boring. And I do think it makes for uninteresting and (perhaps ironically) shallow social critique.

In a similar vein, the main character Ariel was also lacking in distinct traits. Don’t get me wrong, Ayo Edebiri is always so charming and captivating, but Ariel’s character was difficult to pin down. She was making these smart choices and investigating the cult, but still somehow lacked curiosity and discernment. But this wasn’t just an issue with her depth, as it also took a lot of potential for drama away. I am such an advocate for characters in scary movies to make intelligent choices, but there still has to be tension created in another way—an equally smart antagonist, a tragic element, anything to create narrative stakes. The single dimensionality of the side characters just added to the movie’s flatness, no significance to their deaths or suffering or the tension surrounding that.

Basically I just found this movie boring, but there was a real issue with its insistence on trying to explore complex topics with absolutely no nuance or interesting perspective. Ironically, the film itself seems to fall into similar pitfalls as Ariel herself. Just as it presents nothing all that new conceptually, it is remarkably derivative of other films. But I’m also bored by cults, so…

The Bear, Seasons 1-3 (2022-2024, created by Christopher Storer)

The Bear is a drama-comedy that follows Carmy and Syd, chefs at Carmy’s family restaurant after his brother dies. Together with the help of the rest of the staff, they maintain the restaurant in a difficult time before pivoting into fine dining. It balances intense moments in the kitchen with calmer, more introspective character study.

I’m going to keep this review pretty short because honestly I think the show really speaks for itself. It truly is so strong in every aspect—performances, writing, visuals, concept, themes. This is so clearly a labor of love and understanding and genuine want to communicate something specific. I’ll get to what exactly that thing is, but first I must shout out the incredible tone and sensory experience of the show.

The cinematography and editing really contribute to the show’s feeling—the space between chaos and calmness, the heightened emotions, the significance of the restaurant to every single character. It uses a lot of different techniques, and several episodes experiment with format; at first this bothered me because I did want to see some kind of frame or consistency between episodes. But I actually grew to really like it; it feels different from other television in this aspect and I have to give it kudos. More than just the intense feelings you get from watching it, these elements work so well thematically, emphasizing the sensory experience of the kitchen and the environmental landscape of the cast. Editor Adam Epstein has this quote about “[wanting] to get to the emotional center of what these people are going through” and I find that is exactly what the show is doing.

The idea of “what these people are going through” perfectly describes what the show does. It with such specificity and artistry communicates the lives of this small community of people related to this restaurant. There are highs and lows and the whole time it feels so intense—passionate and meaningful and relevant. It’s this remarkably precise glimpse into a particular world and you can feel in every moment why this story needed to be told. There’s a ferocity behind it that is utterly captivating. You see it again with the fantastic performances of a genuinely interesting cast; we spend time with them as a group and alone, moments of chaos in the restaurant and of calm when they go home for the night. It adds to this stunning complexity that the show is devoted to exploring.

I want to shout out the writing as well, especially of the first two seasons. I don’t quite know how to describe it other than “literary.” What I mean by that is that there’s a real emphasis on how the characters speak; there is a succinctness yet precision to the words that is so lovely. It uses repetition of keywords to draw moments and characters together, creating associations between them that feel careful and intentional. The third season, in more ways than this but primarily here, falls flat in this aspect. The strategies are the same, but less artfully employed; the notion of “haunting” in particular feels more forced than similar concepts in the earlier seasons.

I literally cannot recommend this show enough if you want a beautiful drama. It truly is really, really good and I’m so excited to see what the next season brings. I love that it is genuinely interested in working with the television format to do something exciting and visually significant, ensuring every part of the show’s production is knocking it out of the park. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how funny the show is. It balances that painstakingly precise drama with genuinely funny humor, which is my preferred type of show—bonus points for the great soundtrack.

The Final Girls (2015, dir. Todd Strauss-Schulson)

The Final Girls is a meta comedy slasher that follows Max and her group of friends as they are transported into a movie her mother acted in before she died. They must avoid death and escape the movie by making it to the end and killing the killer.

This was my little slasher summer watch and I have to say it filled that gap; this movie is funny, it’s exciting, it’s sweet. It’s not perfect, but it also seems quite cognizant of what it is and what it’s going for. Specifically it is focused on the comedy and emotional beats, rather than poignant critiques of the subgenre or flaws of the sort of movie they are transported into (80s B-horror). I think there is a criticism to be made here, but it lands more in the realm of the movie not making much of an attempt to critique this, rather than an attempt and failure. Because it emphasized the emotional landscape of the characters, this became the center of the movie.

One of the things I really liked about these emotional beats was their simplicity—not a lack of sophistication but a minimalism. It presumes a complexity to its girl characters and that the audience will inherently understand this. For example, there’s no moment where the ensemble character and mean girl Vicki is revealed to have a supreme motivation behind her rudeness. Instead, we see from the earliest moment she’s introduced her insecurities and her strengths; a few times she makes rude comments and she’s called on them, including by herself. Her arc involves owning up to her behavior, which is not unmatched by the other characters, building a bond with Gertie as they face a similar fate, and acting heroic even when she can’t be the final girl as she wanted to. The movie never over-explains her story and while it definitely left me wanting more of her, it felt complete and resonant despite the straightforwardness of it.

The visuals, on the other hand, were so surprising. There are these two sets that really stand out—this forest full of bright, fake flowers and Max’s confrontation scene with bold lighting and literal smoke in the background. It was particularly interesting because it evoked the feeling of an 80s film in the pointed falseness creating a distinct environment for climactic moments, but the visual quality (lighting, cameras, framing) of the film itself created a distance and artifice to these settings. I thought this was brilliant by the end. It gave this sort of fairyland feel to the movie, emphasizing the characters being transported here and learning something about themselves and each other. I’m doing a dissertation right now partially on fairy narratives akin to this one, and let’s just say without going into too much detail, it fits really well.

As for how the metafictional aspect of the movie worked, I’m not so sure… For the emotional beats, it made a lot of sense, but for the immediate plot I thought it oscillated between overly cute and fine. The movie felt like it had three opening scenes, which made it a little difficult to get into, but once it found its footing that choice made a lot of sense. The characters seemed to understand the rules of the world quickly, though they were occasionally mistaken; this helped it to not drag on, but sometimes I raised an eyebrow at their precise conclusions. It definitely doesn’t do much with the metafictional plot in a critiquing sense, which makes me flounder a bit at it, and instead it's entirely in service of Max’s story. However, I found Max’s situation really sweet and added an intriguing layer to this common plot of a teenager going back to meet a loved one in the past as it wasn’t actually her mother she was interacting with. I can’t be too disappointed by the lack of significance of the metafictional plot because of this, but also because plenty of other movies have done it, and done it really well. Unless this movie has something in particular to say about it, then the focus on the emotional story seems like a stronger choice.

I don’t think this movie is a hidden masterpiece, as I often see about it online, but it is a fun time. It’s a surprisingly sweet story that makes for a good summer flick. Admittedly, this movie really got to me—I cried a couple times. But I also don’t know that I’ll watch it again, at least not in the near future. If you’re looking for a solid summer slasher (can’t recommend enough), this is a great option. Also, while I didn’t love all of the songs, the music distanced itself from other 80s-inspired horror (or adventure, sci-fi, etc.) but was still solid overall. Like, I love the spooky, synthy music that’s often in things like this, but it was really nice to see something sort of different but still fitting.