The ones who stayed.

Reservation Dogs S3 (but also the whole thing) — 4.5/5

And so ends the slow crawl from comedy to drama, and the path its drawn is beautiful and sweet and something I think, combined with things like Ted Lasso and Our Flag Means Death and The Bear, starts to approach again the new religion, the old religion, one called "all we have is each other." Believe in me as I in you and together we shall rise. If the first two seasons of Reservation Dogs were about escaping the bonds of where you're from, this final season 180s it—they searched for a larger world if only to say goodbye to it. "How beautiful to never search for who you are. Everything you need is here, in the millenniums of certainty." The trust in the aunties and uncles and shitasses and the ancestors, the spirits, that every step was a step forward, and in all the chaos of the universe, the random assortment of atoms traversing eternities, in life and death, they found each other, here, in this place, at this time. They came together. And then the hard part becomes staying together. Though some do leave, and maybe later even more will, I think this show ultimately does something which I'm not sure I've seen before—it celebrates the ones who stayed. The ones who make up the home you return to. The constants. Their small lives, infinite in size. The ones who believe in you, who collectively do their part to fill the god-sized hole inside you. The people in this show touches something in me. I will miss them now that they're gone, and I hope they come this way again. 

Children

are distant things.

Resentment is drinking poison

and expecting someone else to die.

— Geri Halliwell

How beautiful to never search for who you are. Everything you need is here.

In the millenniums of certainty.

— Bucky, Reservation Dogs, Season 3, Episode 5

I'm an idiot.

Shazam: Fury of the Gods — 2.5/5

I think it's better than the first one! Here is why: the movie's biggest problem is still Zachary Levi. Specifically, how he and his kid alter-ego are not actually anything alike. Captain Marvel is an 8-year old kid who wants friends and verbalizes it excessively, and Billy Batson is a moody too-cool-for-school teenager who wants friends but keeps it to himself (like any self-respecting teenager should). Everytime it switches between them, there's a huge shift in tone. What the movie gets right this time is essentially sidelining Billy to focus on Freddie—who, in another world, is a much better Billy Batson! But actually I'm thankful he's not because this means that Freddie can interact with Captain Marvel in ways that Billy never could. It feels like a kid interacting with that kid with superpowers. And so it's fun! And there's a stable tone throughout this thing. And I pretty much forget all the bits and pieces outside of that. Not sure if the other superhero family members actually did much? Except to serve a story about family that was mostly about two members of the family? Anyway, more fun was had. Huzzah. 

I just feel like you're pretending.

Honor Society — 2/5

I went into this hoping for two things — a clear successor to the easy likeability of 'Easy A,' and the ascendance of Angourie Rice, who I am fond of because 'The Nice Guys' continues to be one of my most rewatched modern movies, and I wish her to succeed outside of it. She does okay! The movie has a rhythm, it moves steadily forward, it has charms—but my god, is it so fucking grey. It's dreary. It's made in the few minutes between deluges of rain on either side of the scene. It makes any lightness sopping wet. And then a weird fucking sociopathic twist and a weird fucking creepy teacher thing. Somewhere in here is a brightly-colored movie, and a decent story about how the road to heaven may be paved with bad intentions, but it's lost in this fucking downpour.

Everyone’s gotten really good

at the same thing.

— Lorde