I am the least qualified person to review movies — but, if you’re a movie buff reading this, let me offer a defense for this film all the same.

Good literature — like Station Eleven — reminds us how to resist despair: by building new worlds.

The world is burning, but we don’t really need to turn to nostalgia constantly in order to hide from it.

Moments is a special show. A love-letter to theatre that isn’t inaccessible to non-theatre people. To the lay folks, I’d think it opens their eyes a little to the intricacies of creating theatre. To theatre folk, it’s a beautiful reminder of why we love it so much.

In the age of celebrity worship, biopics face the challenge of capturing the essence of a life on screen. Are they a sincere tribute or a manufactured exploitation?

Thirteen was a foundational film for complex and tender representations of poor women and girls for my generation. After 20 years, it deserves a critical reevaluation.

Five years later, The Boys has run out of sympathy for sexual assault victims and has made them the butt of the joke. 

If I’m gay, how could I be possessed by this guy all the fucking time, bore my friends about him, drive myself insane with paranoia over whether he knew how I felt or not?

Opening your phone these days is a bit like playing on a slot machine. You’re in for one of two outcomes: money, or loss. Luxury lifestyles, or dead children. It’s no wonder that we’re desperately reaching out for help in any direction.

There has been a tendency in recent years to conflate the two labels – perhaps as a result of American Liberalism being their comparatively ‘left-wing’ option. That conflation has allowed people who are chronic fence-sitters or who lean neutral to ride on the clout coattails of those pushing for real change.

I don’t think many of us remember every toy we had as children, but I do know that we remember summers playing mermaids at the pool