Ryan Syrek

First off, Jaba the Hutt is almost nobody’s favorite character, even if he is physically and politically evocative of at least one notable modern figure. Sure, there is probably some rabid subreddit demanding more Hutt-on-Hutt action. But they are inarguably goofy-looking one-note annoying characters, and that’s before someone makes Jeremy Allen White voice one that is

Explore how FDA approval of durvalumab transforms treatment for non-muscle invasive bladder cancer, offering new hope for patients.

The past is objectively terrifying. Our memories are nothing but warped unreality. If you could really zoom in, nothing would look right. Every place we “vividly remember” would be horribly malformed. The people wouldn’t even really look like people.

The last 30 or 45 minutes of Masters of the Universe finally understands the real power was inside of it the entire time. And that power is stupidity. Awesome stupidity, to be clear. But stupidity nonetheless. Sadly, the first hour and a half is a confused, lame mess that feels like it was written by committee.

Steven Spielberg horrifyingly misreads the current state of the world in Disclosure Day such that the whole thing hinges on human beings doing the following:

Stark simplicity can be its own sumptuous feast. If your tummy rumbles for a heaping helping of violence, treat yourself to The Furious, the best action movie since 2011’s The Raid (at a bare minimum). It is a phenomenal reminder of why stunts typically have “coordinators” while fights have “choreographers.”

It is weird that every bad thing in Supergirl, a movie with only bad things, feels palpably connected to someone who didn’t write, direct, or star in it. The James Gunn-ification of the DC cinematic universe is officially here, and it is repellant and insufferable.

This roundup has nothing to do with Independence Day really. But you can declare your independence from boredom by streaming these four 2026 movies that I have recently seen and didn’t tell you about yet! For the record, this is not me trying to milk a federal holiday for the sweet protein of shirked responsibility so much as it is me not wanting to find a few hundred words to say about Toy Story 17: Please Let Us Die, We Want to Die So Bad or

An adult movie in every sense of the word, The Invite is nothing more than a sad-horny discussion. Director and star Olivia Wilde makes a strong case that the unintentionally hilarious Don’t Worry Darling was the anomaly on her filmography and not the intentionally hilarious Booksmart. The Invite is not hilarious.

Fitting, given that Homer is listed on its IMDB page: Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey finally settles an age-old question. In a shocking turn of events, acting is