Few animated series have managed to expand the Star Wars universe as successfully as Rebels. At first glance, it might seem aimed only at a younger audience, but it quickly becomes essential for any fan who wants to truly understand the fate of many key characters seen later in The Mandalorian, Ahsoka, or even the classic movies. It takes a little time to get into it, especially if you're coming from The Clone Wars, as the tone feels lighter and the designs are more stylized. But once you get to know Ezra, Kanan, Sabine, Hera, and Chopper, it's easy to care about them and get fully invested in their journey. Each season gains depth, adds meaningful connections to canon, and delivers genuinely emotional moments. What’s most surprising is how well it balances action with character development. Space battles and lightsaber duels are beautifully animated, but there’s also room for fear, loyalty, sacrifice, and the weight of choices. Some episodes leave a lasting impression that goes beyond Star Wars itself. Rebels also works as the perfect bridge between the prequels and the original trilogy. Familiar faces, Ahsoka’s journey, and the growing tension between the Empire and the Rebellion all come together seamlessly, showing just how carefully it’s been built. Sure, there are some simpler episodes geared toward younger viewers, but even those show care, consistency, and a clear intent to build something meaningful. And when the show hits its emotional highs, it really soars. If you care about Star Wars lore and want to feel part of something bigger, this series delivers.

Jojo Rabbit is a strange film. At times, it plays like a sweet, light comedy; other times, it dives into absurdity; and occasionally, it edges toward something darker and more emotional. That mix is both its greatest strength and its biggest flaw. There’s something oddly captivating about it, something that makes it stand out — but also leaves you unsure how to feel. The premise is bold: showing Nazism through the naive, distorted eyes of a child whose imaginary friend is Hitler. It sounds like madness, but the overall tone stays on its feet thanks to a balance between ridiculousness and genuine warmth. The humor works often, especially early on, but starts to wear thin when it leans too hard on the same type of joke. The story follows a clear arc, and it’s fair to say the main character is well developed. His emotional growth is nuanced, helping the audience stay engaged even when the movie gets a bit scattered. The cast adds a lot, too — there are honest, grounded performances that carry the film even in its most over-the-top moments. Still, there’s something off about the pacing. Some tonal shifts feel clumsy, and the move toward drama isn’t always smooth. The film wants to say important things — and sometimes it does — but other times it gets stuck somewhere between childish and tragic, never quite landing on either. That said, it’s impossible to deny its personality. Jojo Rabbit doesn’t feel like anything else. And even if its originality causes a few stumbles, it delivers moments that genuinely move you. Its message, though a bit simplified at times, comes through clearly. And the visual flair — the color, music, and stylish direction — helps it hold together better than expected. It’s a film that entertains, that brings out smiles, and at times reaches something more heartfelt. It may not be perfect, but it has soul — and that’s always worth something.

Matt Damon plays a tough, quiet man who seems out of step with the world around him. He travels to France to help his daughter, who’s caught up in a complicated legal case. This could’ve been a flat, cliché role, but Damon brings nuance, restraint, and realism to the character. The film starts off like a straightforward thriller, almost like a procedural, but soon shifts direction. What begins as an investigation becomes a much more intimate story about human connections and unspoken pain. That change works in some scenes, but in others it feels jarring—the tone wavers and not everything flows naturally. The script brings up strong themes: guilt, cultural differences, the weight of family, the desire for redemption. But it doesn’t always handle them well. Some parts drag, and others are rushed, leaving certain moments without the emotional impact they seem to aim for. Still, there are some really effective scenes, especially when the film slows down to focus on everyday life. It’s in the quiet details—a glance, a short exchange, a hesitant gesture—where the story finds its emotional core. Camille Cottin brings warmth and honesty to her role, and her chemistry with Damon gives the film some of its most heartfelt moments. As it moves forward, the movie steps away from being a thriller and turns into something more reflective. It’s about second chances, about trying to understand people who feel completely foreign. It doesn’t all land, but there’s a sincerity running through it. Maybe it’s not perfect—but it does leave something behind.

Mel Gibson directs a light thriller, very much in the vein of those movies you’d stumble upon while channel-surfing on a Friday night—and end up watching until the end. Flight Risk doesn’t pretend to be more than it is: simple entertainment, and it more or less delivers. The story moves at a decent pace and doesn’t drag, and its short runtime is a plus. But don’t expect memorable scenes or complex characters. What drives the film is straightforward action, cheesy dialogue, and a few over-the-top twists that go down easier if you don’t overthink them. Wahlberg does fine as the reluctant pilot, though he fades into the background at times due to weak effects and forced moments. What works best is the film’s unmistakable '90s vibe—that feeling of "I’ve seen this before, but it’s kind of fun." What doesn’t work is how little it brings to the table. It’s a decent ride while it lasts, but once it lands… you’re already thinking of something else.

I enjoyed watching it, but it doesn’t reach the level of the first one. The Accountant 2 loses much of what made the original stand out: its pace, its tension, and especially its action. Everything here feels slower, more tangled, and although there are still good moments, it lacks that sharp, focused drive of the first film. The story tries to expand the character’s world and dig deeper into his relationships, and in some ways it works. There’s chemistry, some clever callbacks, and you can tell they aimed for something more complex. But at times, it feels overdone: too many subplots, too much explaining, and not enough energy where it matters most. Still, it works as a sequel. Far from a failure. It has fun moments, the characters click, and a few scenes are well crafted. Ben Affleck holds the character nicely, though with less physical presence this time. And his dynamic with Bernthal brings a bit of “buddy movie” energy that actually helps. The main issue is the lack of action. There are a few sequences, but nothing as memorable as the first. That blend of sharp violence and quiet emotion is mostly gone here, and it shows. All in all, it’s an easy watch and an enjoyable follow-up, but far less impactful. It holds your attention, but you probably won’t rush to see it again.