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first 15 minutes remain all over-the-place but as soon as our crew gets to jedha i lock the fuck in and never look back for the next two hours. lacks the richness of andor’s character writing (would’ve loved to see a version of this with edwards and gilroy working in tandem from the start, because the former’s epic sense of scale paired with the latter’s sophisticated storytelling is a match made in star wars heaven for me) but the cast is so damn charming that i mostly don’t care by the end. i even like jyn! sue me!

any nitpicks i have with the pacing of the first two acts (the urgency works to emphasize the stakes of the story but leaves little time for us to get to know each character intimately, as already said) fade away by the third because the battle of scarif is simply one of the most impressive feats of filmmaking in the entire damn franchise and its already brutal emotional beats have been made all the more moving by all the sacrifices explored in andor that pushed the rebels closer and closer to this triumph. feels like the weight of the world is crushing me watching jyn and cassian’s final embrace. a truly spiritually transcendent scene.

funny how this sorta acts like one of those movie-length series finales for andor now. the flow from s2 e12 into this into a new hope is so fucking smooth that it’s near impossible to believe it wasn’t planned in advance. of course, nothing can hold a candle to the singular artistic achievement that is andor, but while gilroy’s masterful writing is strong enough to stand on its own, it’s simultaneously enriched both what came before and what’s to come in the grander star wars mythology, and that might just be the series’ greatest success of all. it set out to simply justify its own existence and show us why this specific story demanded to be told, and it ended up far exceeding those meager aims and strengthening the star wars saga as a whole from top to bottom.

who would’ve thought a kid from kenari would grow up to be the greatest hero in the galaxy?

Final Destination: Generational Trauma

one of the last examples of The Great Historical Epic hollywood used to be known for but is now essentially - and unfortunately - nonexistent. the last hour here is some of the most enthralling and awe-inspiring filmmaking i’ve ever seen in my entire life. movies are fucking miracles man.

so glad i got to see this in a theater - couldn’t imagine experiencing it for the first time any other way. orlando bloom and eva green have two of the most beautiful faces i’ve ever seen on film. i hope ridley scott lives forever. VIVE LE CINÉMA

haven’t logged a movie in over a week which is entirely unlike me but letting everyone know i’m still alive and have simply been locked the fuck in to one of the best seasons of television i’ve ever seen. if you haven’t ed andor hive yet literally what are you doing. i regret all the time i wasted these past three years so much. as good as your favorite star wars movie and sometimes maybe even better. can’t form any other coherent thoughts rn but just wanted to spread the good word before i lock back in for s2. WATCH IT NOW

amidst all the haunting meditations on grief and digital voyeurism the most disturbing development of all is the reveal that vincent cassel’s character drives a tesla

the mcu vs. the male loneliness epidemic

being friends with one of your favorite filmmakers fucking rocks because you get to be one of the first people to see their latest work before everyone else so i’m always honored when alice lets me take a look at what she’s been building because everything she touches is as beautiful and brilliant as her - and the serpent’s skin is no exception. spooky and sapphic as hell with a badass witchy trans girl as the lead… what more do you want from the movies. keep this one (and miss alice maio mackay) on your radar :)

the ant 3 should be about ben affleck and the autism academy vs. rfk jr

even when taking into the wendigos and supernatural serial killers i can still think of worse fates than being trapped in a cursed time loop with three beautiful women

this is the only movie that should’ve beat brokeback mountain for best picture in 2005

they anna kendrick-baited my gay ass into watching a tnt movie only for her to have 15 minutes of screen time

when i worship in the name of the lord this weekend know that ryan coogler is the only man on my mind

i would also put up with all that for a first date with meghann fahy

edwin starr said it best

not every wife guy spy movie can be black bag

fly high ice.

best watched with your dad as he reacts to every jason statham action sequence like a 13-year-old cheering for the chicken jockey

feels like it was written by one of the five-year-olds at my preschool that i watch play minecraft on my ipad every day (complimentary)

let dad pick the movie tonight

88 minutes of jamie lee curtis saying “trauma”

told my two pre-k boys who don’t nap that i’d let ‘em watch this on my ipad at nap time on friday if they had a good week and they did so i threw it on a half hour ago and they’re losing their minds over how many superheroes are in it. every five minutes they’re like “MISS ZOË THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!!!” and it’s pretty much the cutest thing i’ve ever seen. wait until they hear about doomsday dude

steven soderbergh saw monogamy losing the pr war against polyamory after challengers came out and said not on my watch

i’ve suffered more for a situationship

i feel like i’m best known on here for my writing about film (some of which i’ve been paid for over the years, most of which i haven’t), but i’ve actually spent the majority of my “employed” life working with kids. when i was 16, i got my first job at a local daycare, where i worked with kids aged six weeks to six years. when i was 18, i became an assistant pre-k teacher at said daycare working almost exclusively with 4-5 year olds, and at the same time, i started college pursuing a major in secondary english education and eventually even began shadowing in various middle school and high school classrooms, before ultimately switching my major to a focus in english and communication not centered around education by my senior year.

however, as luck would have it, a few months after moving home last year, i started working at a daycare once again - only this time around, i was experienced enough to lead my own pre-k class. when i began, i thought i was in over my head; i’d been “out of the game” for five years, and to make matters even more complicated, i was contending with a few uniquely unruly boys who had already given the teacher before me a run for her money. but, the thing that kept me coming back each and every day was the foundation of my original love for education, and early education in particular: the ability to positively influence a child’s first perception of school and provide them with the tools to not only succeed academically over the next 12 years, but also, emotionally and interpersonally.

you’re given the opportunity to work with kids before they’re thrown to the wolves they’ll encounter throughout the rest of their days in public education and shape them at the start of their most vulnerable and impressionable state in life. you’re with them eight hours a day, five days of a week - something their parents can’t even say at this age. it’s a profession where you’re provided with more power than you’ve probably ever had; but with that power comes tremendous responsibility and obligation as well (sorry to crib from spider-man, it was unavoidable). of course, you’re there first and foremost as an educator. but you’d have to be blind not to see the start of some of the biggest problems facing society today simultaneously. and when faced with such sights, you can either bury your head in the sand and stick to your “lesson plans” or pursue the path that goes above your paygrade and confront these conflicts head on, before they blow up in a bigger way a decade down the road.

i’m far from the first person to say it, but kids truly are sponges at this age, soaking in everything you do and don’t want them to. they see everything, they hear everything, and though they may not know everything, they’re savvier at connecting context clues than one might initially foolishly assume. whether it comes from their fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins, or the faces they find in the phones and tablets they cling to too young, they’re keenly aware of the way the world works from early on. but, they’re also young enough to not feel beholden to it just yet. they’re young enough to be taught another way. they’re young enough to learn the power of empathy over enmity - and to be shown how communication and comion can succeed in situations where conflict feels inevitable.

i’ve worked with my class - and those aforementioned “uniquely unruly boys” - for seven months now. i’ve seen them grow in ways i once cynically thought no longer possible. i’ve seen them share emotions i never knew they had the words to articulate. i’ve seen them change the way they treat both myself and their fellow female classmates, leading with love instead of the aggression that once obsessively ate at them. they’re not perfect, and with each win comes another problem every day, but at the end of those days, this growth alone - and the growth to come in our last four months together - is the greatest achievement of all. another path is possible. they’re not a lost cause.

of course, once they leave my class in the fall and continue on outside of my control, there’s no telling if this is the path they’ll remain on or if they’ll be swayed south. it’s a progress that has to be as encouraged at home as much as it is by educators, and without that simultaneous , the sway of that southward trajectory may prove too mighty to resist. but i can’t let myself be consumed by that cynicism and focus so much on what i can’t control that i lose sight of what i can: what i do with them while i have them. and as for the rest, that’s where i hope shows like adolescence can help. it may seem impossible these days to bring our boys back to the light and show them that better world is within their reach, but by god you have to try. that’s all we can do. and we teachers can’t do it alone.

because even though the kids may not be alright right now, this painful present only predicts our future if we allow it to. don’t submit to the self-fulfilling prophecy - be the author of another.

we were five minutes away from the theater when my mom told me the dermatologist she’d been seeing most of her adult life for the skin cancer that runs in her family had recently found melanoma growing in her arm, and she’d have to go back in within the week to have more skin cut out in the hopes of stopping it from spreading any further - if it hadn’t already.

my mom’s always been very matter-of-fact like that. she doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to bad news; she gives it to you straight no matter the time or place, because, in all honesty, there never really is a “good” time to tell someone something like this (though if there was, i don’t think “five minutes away from the movie theater” would be it - but i digress).

everyone’s told us we’re nearly twins for as long as i can - and our striking similarities in personality and appearance have only strengthened since i started transitioning three years ago - but this is perhaps the only point where we differ. i’m embarrassingly overemotional and struggle not to feel Everything, All The Time. meanwhile, while i wouldn’t consider my mother a “cold” woman by any means, she’s always approached things like this very “clinically.” when shit goes south in her life, she doesn’t waste much (if any) time reacting before immediately pivoting to The Next Step. wailing about it is pointless to her - put up or shut up, as she says.

so, of course, while she spoke soberly, i started sobbing as soon as she finished her sentence. a sentence that, while so short and straightforward on the surface, represented so much more to me and my poorly medicated anxiety. i’d never given much thought to my mom dying before. obviously it was something that was going to happen someday, but before this conversation, “someday” was still “far, far away.” she was only 54 years old and in incredible shape for her age (as you’d expect for a part time exercise instructor) and had thus far had no other health scares. aside from a freak accident, i figured we were in the clear for at least a little while longer.

and though this wasn’t my first brush with death in my family after losing both of my maternal grandparents five years prior, they each had long struggled with their health well before leaving us entirely, so there was more time to prepare for “the inevitable end” there. while still undoubtedly crushing, we weren’t blindsided by any means. it wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when. but here, i felt a fear i’d never considered consciously before: that of the true unpredictability of death. the deaths you don’t have the luxury of planning and preparing for. the deaths that land on you like a looney tunes anvil and linger perhaps for the rest of your life.

i was too busy feeling through this newfound fear to really listen to and comprehend my mother’s subsequent clarification that her dermatologist was hopeful they’d be able to stop her melanoma from spreading by cutting out this one spot on her skin, but even if i did take it in in the moment, i’m not sure it would’ve offered much comfort. the damage was already done. my mother wasn’t the badass invincible being i’d seen her as since i was a kid. she was as we all are - a mere mortal. and that was the first time it really ed.

this is the woman who had been my rock my entire life, but most especially throughout the past three years, as i embarked on the endless mess of my transition and leaned on her for every question about womanhood under the sun. she was my virtual shoulder to cry on from afar as i began this journey halfway across the country from her, and since moving home last year, she’d accompanied me to every single appointment and surgery consultation. i couldn’t imagine continuing any of this without her, nor could i envision a future where she wouldn’t see the woman, wife, and mother i’d hoped to eventually become. a future without her to witness the accomplishment of my lifelong dreams or be the grandmother she’d aspired to since we were young. i didn’t want any part of a world like that.

i’d hoped the movie we were seeing that night - oz perkins’ the monkey - would be a reprieve from these fears, as movies often were for me. regrettably though, despite being obsessively plugged in to pop culture, i remained woefully unaware of what the monkey was actually about (aside from being a gory final destination-esque horror comedy) until i was sat in my seat. a movie i soon realized was unfortunately centered around the very painful truth i’d just become privy to: the complete and utter unpredictability of death. and, to make matters even worse, the foremost emotional thrust of the film was the death of the main characters’ mother. so, there went that reprieve i’d been praying for.

however, despite having this theme i’d hoped to escape that night aggressively shoved back in my brain for 90 minutes, by the time the movie ended, i realized that might’ve actually been exactly what i needed. what does bubble-wrapping yourself from the inevitability and unpredictability of death do in the long run? it certainly doesn’t make it any less inevitable or unpredictable. at a point, you’re just lying to yourself to preserve a brief but fleeting peace. and is ignorance really bliss if it’s impermanent?

it’s as tatiana maslany’s lois so succinctly says near the start of the film - “everybody dies, and that’s fucked up. but that’s life.” it’s the one great equalizer in this world. no matter who you are or where you come from, we all meet our end eventually. some of us have the luxury of foresight, and some of us don’t - but death comes for everyone all the same. denying that fundamental truth of our shared existence doesn’t make it disappear; it’s only a temporary delusion, and one that simultaneously shields you from acknowledging all the time you still do have left with those you love.

two weekends ago, we found out that my mom’s dermatologist was in fact able to stop her melanoma from spreading (for now) with the skin she’d cut out. she of course couldn’t confirm that it’d never be back, and they’re taking the appropriate precautions to monitor my mom more frequently from here on out, but at the moment, we’re in the clear - and at the moment, that’s all we can control. i can’t say for sure whether or not my mom’s melanoma will return or when. no one can. but i do get to decide how i spend every day with her from here on out knowing one of them will eventually be her last.

and when that day comes, i don’t want to have wasted a single second worrying about anything else other than making sure she knows how loved she is, and making the memories that’ll comfort me in her absence until my inevitable end as well.

finally a horror movie that understands nothing is scarier than a teenage boy

the gays would’ve made moretti’s album chart longer than the tortured poets department

This review may contain spoilers.

a movie about how simping for your wife will save the world

played this on my ipad at nap time for my two boys who don’t sleep so they wouldn’t bother me while i worked but then i ended up getting distracted anyway and watching with them (luckily my bosses don’t follow me on letterboxd).

there are truly few things i love more than seeing how giddy my students get about their first favorite films. it feels like i’m rewatching these movies through their eyes and gets me so excited to share ~cinema~ with my own kids someday :’)

when i say i’d find her in every lifetime this is what i’m talking about

watched this for one reason and one reason only and for that alone it was worth it

Watched on Friday February 28, 2025.

Watched on Friday February 28, 2025.

Watched on Friday February 28, 2025.

Watched on Friday February 28, 2025.

Watched on Friday February 28, 2025.

they should remake this with sza

i thought this was supposed to be a musical

i think there should be a new keke palmer and sza motion picture in theaters every year

a movie that imagines a world where the president is a giant red rage monster with a controversial past being controlled by a socially awkward tech bro and the least believable part is that said president is also a semi-redeemable human being

perfect post-valentine’s day watch when you’re gay and single to remind yourself that it could be worse

every time i rewatch this, i feel like i’ve lived an entire life by the time it ends. it’s a singular and special feeling only a handful of films have ever evoked in me - boyhood, everything everywhere all at once, and poor things, to name a few - and a feeling that reminds me why i fell in love with film in the first place. this transportation to lives and worlds so far unlike my own, and yet, when you strip away their superficial differences, you find a mirror waiting for you - one that allows you to not simply survey these lives and worlds from above, but to see yourself in them as well and experience every tug-and-pull of the plot almost first-hand, as if the barrier between actor and audience has evaporated. it’s something truly spiritual to me.

even after five watches, this thing hasn’t lost an ounce of its luster. i just think it’s a fucking miracle of a movie, man. it’s already been appropriately honored as a feat of acting, writing, directing, editing, and so on and so forth, but at the foundation of this feat is a nearly unparalleled tonal balancing act - one that takes the film into almost every genre under the sun over the course of two and a half hours and does so without ever sacrificing the soul of the story or its lead even amidst the ongoing comic absurdity of the second act. because sometimes, you simply have to laugh so as not to cry. but baker re that this laughter doesn’t make the tears disappear - it merely delays them until tragedy has its time to shine.

but ultimately, those tears will dry, as they always do. and then, we brush ourselves off and begin again. because we have no choice not to.

watched with my mom and sister and cat while we baked and decorated heart shaped cookies in the kitchen (not my cat though. he was asleep on the couch). happy valentine’s day letterboxd :)

showing my mom more “lesbian movies,” at her request. we started with this one because she “loves that girl from the bear.” when it ended she said “that took an interesting turn.”

but i’m a cheerleader is up next because she’s a big fan of melanie lynskey’s as well after watching yellowjackets (“which also has lesbians!” she enthusiastically pointed out).

as soon as timmy started singing song to woody the old woman sitting next to me audibly whispered “wow…” and at the end she turned to me and said “you know, i wasn’t going to see this because i’m not the biggest fan of timothée’s, but man am i glad i did.” so yeah that oscar’s on lock

i don’t believe in the glorification of murder. i DO believe in the empowerment of women

demi moore’s best actress nomination for the substance is the academy’s way of atoning for snubbing megan fox 16 years ago