Penumbra Online
Table of Contents
Game Reviews
Metaphor: ReFantazio
Album Reviews
Eusexua
Debĺ TiRaR MáS FOTos
Movie Reviews
Saltburn
The Boy and the Heron
Einstein and the Bomb
The Color Purple
Elemental
Mean Girls
Civil War
Sonic the Hedgehog 3
The Wild Robot
Captain America: Brave New World
We Live in Time
Television Reviews
One Day
Fallout
Adolescence
Bridgerton: Season Three
Squid Game: Season 2
Arcane: Season 2
Book Reviews
But Everyone Feels This Way: How an Autism Diagnosis Saved My Life
Hello Stranger
An Inheritance of Magic
Onyx Storm
Colored Television
Sunrise on the Reaping
Game Reviews
Metaphor: ReFantazio
Created by ATLUS Games, 2024
When it comes to creating impactful video games, developers and artists across the medium strive to provoke emotion or feeling out of their audience. Whether it’s the shocking death of a main character in The Last Of Us, or a complete series redesign in The Legend Of Zelda: Breath Of The Wild, the foundation of any great story told via game renders its players emotionally attached and invested.
However, there is often a level of transgression that game developers avoid; creators carefully side-step lines that dare not to be crossed, ignoring commentaries that are socially taboo. ATLUS, the Japanese powerhouse studio accredited for reinventing and dominating the Japanese Roleplaying Game (JRPG) landscape, is the exception to this generally held rule.
While franchises like Final Fantasy dominated the JRPG market for over two decades, ATLUS has come into its own, taking the gaming world by storm with its iconic Persona series. Known for its lengthy turn-based gameplay and anime-inspired storytelling concepts, the game experienced massive success in the Western market, selling 7.2 million copies of its latest release, Persona 5.
Despite their widespread popularity, ATLUS worried their critical acclaim could be simply reduced to Persona’s success. Rather than continuing to further capitalize upon their previous projects, as many companies would have chosen to do, ATLUS decided to briefly separate themselves from their beloved cash cow to create a fresh, new IP. Thus, the passion project Project Re: Fantasy was born. Over ten grueling years, the project was scrapped, redesigned, and delayed with only one end-goal for the video game in mind: Fantasy or bust.
When Project Re: Fantasy became Metaphor: ReFantazio in late 2024, ATLUS proved their success was not born from a lucky development cycle or a one-off idea, but from a passionate love for the art of video games. Metaphor: ReFantazio was built almost entirely from the ground up, with its fantasy setting being completely original from anything currently available on the market.
Nine tribes inhabit the Kingdom of Euchronia, left in varying states of disarray after its king was assassinated. With no heir, Louis Guiabern, a renowned but radical military hero, steps up to claim the throne before a magical force manifests within the capital kingdom of Grand Trad. The late king had cast a causality spell in his final moments, forcing citizens to run in an election to determine the next ruler, effectively granting anybody the chance to become royalty. Toss in a strong and silent player character, an unruly yet lovable cast, and a heart-wrenchingly evil villain, and you have a recipe for a damn good JRPG.
However, the captivating premise and extraordinary setting are not Metaphor’s primary draw–its strikingly relevant and bold themes are. Here, some of the biggest “No-No’s” in artistic expression are thrust into the spotlight. Topics of religion, racism, politics, prejudice, and government corruption are depicted in full force, unrelentingly dominating the player’s experience. Naturally, this makes for a pretty depressing experience–unless you’re ATLUS.
Having made a name for themselves with their fascinating character writing and witty dialogue, Metaphor: ReFantazio situates itself more as an anime or manga than a traditional game. In true anime fashion, the story-line includes full-fledged character arcs and moments of levity in a dark and twisted version of our actual world. For example, there are times when government officials organize assassinations on children, yet ATLUS ensures these events are appropriately and expertly paced. For every jaw dropping and heartbreaking development, there is an equally important moment between our cast of characters, ranging from fishing trips to cooking sessions.
Between its 80 or so hours of dramatic storytelling, lovely character interactions, and innovative turn-based gameplay, Metaphor cements itself as a well-designed JRPG. However, I personally expect more from my games than just good game-play. I believe when you spend money on a piece of art, you are owed something influential in return. Metaphor achieved this feat, as it granted me something I had never seen in a game before. I found this game to be a meta mosh pit of artistic expression from all angles. Absolutely nothing here is phoned in. Its grotesque enemy designs replicate the violent artworks of Francisco Goya, the battle themes of Esperanto-inspired scripture are vocalized by literal monks, and the game’s characters challenge those from the greatest JRPG in history. It’s all a wonderful blend of passion and creativity, but I was wholly unprepared for the wonderful story inscribed into this lengthy JRPG.
Metaphor: ReFantazio pulls no punches and unapologetically strives to say something it shouldn’t. What is Fantasy? What is a Utopia? What is Democracy? These are all ideas Metaphor grapples with. By the game’s end, you are left wondering how a world full of monsters and magic is somehow more beautiful than the world we inhabit. Metaphor attempts to answer that question with a narrative that invites you to get inspired and be the change. It was an example of a company taking the world by storm by encouraging players to participate in politics, love others, and fight for a common goal. On par with some of Tolkien’s most iconic works within the Fantasy genre, Metaphor: ReFantazio is a timeless masterpiece that drops players into a fun, action-packed world that also has a hell of a lot to say about the society we live in today.
- Julian Saenz-Payne
CSU Stanislaus
Album Reviews
Eusexua
FKA twigs, 2025
Since her debut, FKA twigs has curated a discography that ranges in style, but maintains an incredible consistency in the quality of her craft. Tahliah Debrett Barnett, more commonly known by her stage-name, FKA twigs, began her career in the music industry as a dancer. However, she immediately hit “Artists to Watch” lists after releasing LP1 (2014), an experimental, avant-garde record that combined art-pop, hip-hop, R&B, and electronic music.
Despite her breakthrough as an emerging recording artist, FKA twigs relied on her dance background for the music videos of “Two Weeks,” “Video Girl,” and even an advertisement for Google Glass. Her heart-wrenching album, Magdalene (2019), further demonstrated her versatility as she mastered Wushu, a form of contemporary Chinese martial arts, for the “Sad Day” music video, and pole dancing for “Cellophane.” Her following mixtape, Caprisongs (2022), completely deviates from this darker, moodier sound to reveal her more playful side. While twigs’ lyrics still harbor themes of heartbreak and vulnerability, this is a fun, peppy album you can cry to on the dance floor.
One standout element of FKA twigs' dedication to her art is her commitment to embodying the music she creates. Leading up to Eusexua’s release, FKA twigs drastically changed her appearance in anticipation– shaving her head into a defiant “skullet,” wearing fewer clothes and darker eyeshadow, even adorning herself with metal. Her devotion to promoting the visuals of Eusexua strengthened the delivery and overall aesthetic of the album.
2025 is the year of hyperpop, Y2K futurism, and cyber sigilism tattoos–and Eusexua is the perfect embodiment of these cultural impulses. Inspired by the thrill of raves, this album fuses multiple genres like techno, deconstructed club, experimental pop, trap, and even has hints of trip-hop and DnB. The album explores themes like difficulty with intimacy and relationships, uncomfortable emotions, sexuality, and ego, all concepts that are consistently represented in most of FKA twigs’ work.
The title-track, “Eusexua,” sets a dynamic tone for the rest of the album, as its fast-paced beats gradually build to a tittering melody. The use of auto-tune is intentionally utilized to forecast the technological stylistic elements that characterize the rest of the album. However, there were moments where the lyrics and subject matter of the song were more intriguing than the overall track itself. “Perfect Stranger,” for example, celebrates the period when you are initially attracted to somebody, but know nothing substantial about them. There is no anxiety, just infatuation. This speaks to a larger issue of superficiality within dating, especially in the technological age. After repeated failed relationships, you avoid getting to know people for fear of being disappointed, and–in your cynicism–end up disappointing them.
“Drums of Death” was particularly notable to me. The satisfying, rhythmic pounding of the drums made me raise the volume, and the glitching in twigs’ voice made me melt. This track’s stylistic elements reminded me of the overall sound of LP1. In the next track, “Room of Fools,” twigs utilizes her lower register, and sounds accusatory–almost angry. The song concludes with a beautiful shift where her ethereal vocals glide over instrumentals reminiscent of Bjork’s “Venus as a Boy.” While I enjoyed this change in sound, I wish the transition happened earlier in the song or was even its own interlude.
“Sticky” was another incredible stand-out song for me. I was allured by the distinctively vulnerable and pensive voice that listeners have come to expect from her ballads. The lyric, “I tried to fuck you with the lights on, in the hope you’d think I’m open, and have a conversation,” is a reference to her song “Lights On,” off LP1, in which she repeats, “When I trust you, we can do it with the lights on.” FKA twigs bares her soul to us in this track, delivering the most vulnerable bridge I have ever heard in my life. She then catches the listener off-guard as the song bolts into distortion and her voice glitches over the snare, symbolizing a breaking point after enduring so much pain. This made the following track, “Keep it, Hold It,” a mystical, fairytale-like escape.
The album then takes an unexpected turn with “Childlike Things.” The track’s sound is heavily reminiscent of Game (2008), an album released by Japanese band, Perfume. However, featured artist, North West (yes, Kim and Kanye’s daughter), added a touch of originality to the song by yelling in heavily accented Japanese. The thematic elements of childlike fantasy and imaginary superpowers provided a complete, but much-needed tonal shift from the more vulnerable songs. I especially enjoy the playful, catchy “dun dun dun, dun-dun-dun dun dun” that taunts the listener. It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but this was my favorite song on the album!
For the album’s final tracks, twigs plays around with varying vocal sounds. Her voice is intoxicating and seductive on “Striptease,” before the song glitches into an intense DnB beat. FKA twigs’ howls melt into the next auto-tune heavy track, “24hr Dog.” Her voice wavers back and forth like a metronome: “Please don’t call my name, when I submit to you, I’m a dog for you.” “Wanderlust” was an unexpectedly silly song that reminded me of Whack World (2018) by Tierra Whack. She utilizes the full range of her voice on this track, concluding the album on an optimistic note.
The Eusexua album undulates with constant tonal shifts that occur between songs, and within them. There was an impressively wide range of soundscapes and styles condensed into a mere 11-track album. FKA twigs is often compared to Kate Bush for her outstanding vocal performances, which this album confirms as she transitions from howling over the instrumentals, to singing in falsetto, to whispering tenderly. Even after the last song fades outs, the intimate themes haunt the listener. Each track is like a rollercoaster of soundscapes, though we manage to stay on the same ride the entire time. It’s emotionally stimulating. It’s thrilling. It’s consistent.
All components considered, I give it an 8/10.
- Malina Duran
CSU Stanislaus
DeBĺ TiRaR MáS FOTos
Bad Bunny, 2025
In January 2025, Bad Bunny dropped his new album DeBĺ TiRaR MáS FOTos. This new album charted No.1 on the U.S. Billboard 200, becoming his fourth album to top the U.S. charts. The album boasts a variety of different genres like Salsa, Reggaeton and House Music that are interspersed throughout the tracklist. Through the course of 17 tracks, the album describes the complexities of Puerto Rican culture, such as how its political status as a nation is affected by gentrification and the long-lasting implications of the loss of cultural identity.
Bad Bunny’s album was highly anticipated by fans due to his previews released on Instagram. After he dropped his album, he announced a Puerto Rico residential tour instead of the traditional world-tour fans have come to expect. The implications of this decision were massive, as any fan who wanted to see a life-performance of the album had to travel to Puerto Rico to see him. This residential tour has boosted Puerto Rico’s economy by increasing tourism and having people support its small businesses. Since the biggest themes in the album depict how gentrification is damaging Puerto Rico’s culture, Bad Bunny’s residential tour was an intentional effort to highlight and preserve the island’s way of life. This decision has encouraged many people to visit and experience Puerto Rico for themselves, demonstrating Bad Bunny’s determination to uplift and support his home country any way he can.
Some of the hit songs from the album are "VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR," "BAILE INoLVIDABLE" and "DtMF." "DtMF" full title translates to “I should have taken more photos.” This song reflects how he regrets never truly appreciating good times in the moment, wishing he had taken more photos to capture and preserve these memories. Bad Bunny emphasizes how fast time passes by, lamenting how you never stop to notice it until it is too late. The lyrics reflect this wistfulness, as he mentions how he wishes his loved ones never moved away and that he could have given them more kisses and hugs when he got the chance. Listeners related heavily to these lyrics, as I think it is a universal experience to not realize what you have until it is too late. This song in particular exploded on social media, creating a trend where users posted photos of their loved ones to the song to reflect how much they loved and missed them.
"BAILE INoLVIDABLE" is the perfect song to dance Salsa to, which is historically one of Bad Bunny’s favorite genres to write and perform. "BAILE INoLVIDABLE" translates to an unforgettable dance, which describes a woman he had a romantic relationship with and can’t forget. However, the song is overwhelmingly positive, as Bad Bunny praises their relationship and what he learned from it. "BAILE INoLVIDABLE" peaked at No.1 on the charts for nine weeks. When he released the music video, he included a two minute Salsa tutorial at the beginning so fans could follow along and learn how to dance his favorite style.
"VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR" showcases the joyful and festive spirit of Puerto Rico. Written in the wake of his separation from his ex-girlfriend, the song is a celebration of the stage of life Bad Bunny is currently in, remarking how there is much more to life than being sad. This song also reaffirms how much Bad Bunny loves Puerto Rican culture and the island in general, linking his happiness to the joy he finds everywhere around him. The lyrics playfully describe how the island is not a place for people to get married, but rather, is a location dedicated to have fun. While the song describes how people visit Puerto Rico to enjoy everything the island has to offer, it also reveals Bad Bunny’s lighthearted and fun-loving perspective on life.
DeBĺ TiRaR MáS FOTos is an album that I feel lived up to the massive amount of hype that surrounded its release. Bad Bunny has once again demonstrated that his fame is well-deserved, and his continual success cannot just be attributed to his megastardom. He knows how to condense multiple themes and emotions such as heartbreak, partying, single life, romance and
cultural pride into a single, well-developed album. DeBĺ TiRaR MáS FOTos manages to tell an entire story from start to finish, whose central message is that love for Puerto Rico means love for everyone.
- Estrella Rubio
CSU Stanislaus
Movie Reviews
Saltburn
Directed by Emerald Fennell, 2023
Out of the frying pan and into the fire—what worked for writer-director Emerald Fennell in her 2020 debut Promising Young Woman is back with blistering fury in 2023’s Saltburn, a romantic drama/psychological thriller that left social media aghast once its scenes of raw romance and magnificent mind games made their way onto Amazon Prime Video late last December; however, is the film worth its salt or is Salt-BURN best left on nothing but a mild simmer?
Barry Keoghan stars as the film’s lead, Oliver Quick, a fresh face in the halls of Oxford University who finds himself rather out of his element until he comes across the school’s most eye-catching playboy, Felix Catton (played by Jacob Elordi of Euphoria and The Kissing Booth film trilogy fame.) After a death in the family leaves Oliver without a shoulder to lean on, Felix takes pity on his schoolmate and invites him to stay at his family’s luxurious mansion (the titular Saltburn) to help take his mind off of things. While there, the eccentricities shared between Felix and his family seem to serve as Heaven on Earth for Oliver, but it seems Ollie has much more on his mind than just living in paradise. There’s more to everyone than meets the eye, however, so whether Oliver will come out on top lies only in the conflicting secrets of Castle Saltburn.
While Promising Young Woman excelled in focusing its energy towards the central theme of a woman scorned inflicting her rage upon the world of men, Saltburn revels in the mental whiplash that it’s able to instill upon its viewers throughout the two-hour runtime, contrasting romance with perverseness, beauty with disgust, dry British wit with scenes that might not be the best to show to your parents, etc. With Keoghan and Elordi’s surprising chemistry comes one hell of a supporting cast (Rosamund Pike, Richard E. Grant, and Alison Oliver, just to name a few) to back them up, bathing the film in a sense of mystery and uncertainty that keeps its viewers on their toes until the final shocking twist arrives minutes before the end. Add to that Fennell’s skill for writing that trademark blunt British comedy and the masterful cinematography of La La Land’s own Linus Sandgren behind the camera, and Saltburn is left delectably sweet between scenes of actual action, leaving the film impossible to put down once you’ve started which, in the time of shortened attention spans clashing with incredibly long cinematic runtimes, is no small feat.
That said, the movie isn’t without its faults; aside from wearing its cinematic influences rather heavily on its sleeve (A Clockwork Orange and 1999’s Cruel Intentions, just to name a couple), the contrast mentioned earlier makes the sudden twists and turns feel a bit blunt at times, as though a character changing motivations on a dime simply came from the flick of a switch or a need to progress the plot forward, as opposed to steadily weaving in that transition throughout the scenes before. That and, while I do enjoy the ending twist quite a bit, it feels a bit anticlimactic, seeing as how the chain of events building up to make that big reveal wasn’t impossible for the audience to decipher. On the other hand, I admit that having a somewhat obvious twist certainly ups the engagement factor, being right up to speed with the movie the moment it finally clues you in on what you might’ve been theorizing the entire time.
So despite the occasional misfire, Saltburn was still an absolute thrill ride from start to finish, filled with complex characters and moral themes of obsession and the danger that comes with it that left me guessing as to how it would go from the moment I picked it up to the moment the neo-disco vibes of Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s “Murder on the Dancefloor” began gleefully playing out the movie. If you’ve got Amazon Prime, Saltburn is free to watch on its streaming platform, so be sure to check it out if you’ve got the time! I rate it a 7.5/10.
- Noah Castellanos
CSU Stanislaus
The Boy and the Heron
Directed by Hayao Miyazaki, 2023
My Neighbor Totoro (1988). Princess Mononoke (1997). Spirited Away (2001). These are just a few of the classic animated films director Hayao Miyazaki created that propelled Japanese animation into the forefront of the Western world. Miyazaki’s latest film, The Boy and the Heron, is by no means an exception. Nominated as a Best Animated Feature Film, The Boy and the Heron takes all the best parts of a Studio Ghibli film—spunky characters, whimsical settings, meandering plotlines, and profound meanings—and pushes the minds of its audience even further, asking us to expand our view of what a film should do. While some may argue that the film is too abstract or ambitious in its methods, The Boy and the Heron nevertheless tells a beautiful story about the strange process of grief and the many ways it can unfurl—a touching message that, in a way, mirrors Miyazaki’s own life and his journey with Studio Ghibli.
The film begins with Mahito, a young boy who abruptly loses his mother in a hospital fire. Right at the start, the film breaks expectations: the animation style suddenly becomes blurred, as if muted bodies are dripping into each other while Mahito must barrel through. Interestingly enough, this scene may also reference Miyazaki’s own life, as traces of World War II riddle much of his early life. Also, like Mahito, Miyazaki’s mother was hospitalized when he was young; however, unlike Mahito, Miyazaki’s mother doesn’t die until a bit later in his life. Nevertheless, one can make many parallels between the director and the main characters, not just Mahito. While real-life parallels found in Ghibli films may not be totally unique to The Boy and the Heron in particular, this film most pointedly discusses the grief associated with being an artist, or perhaps a director, and the creative process.
Perhaps one of the most interesting and unnerving components of this coming-of-age story is the array of characters that challenge Mahito as he embarks on his journey to retrieve Natsuko, his new mother. Once Mahito enters Natsuko’s estate, a gray heron haunts and antagonizes him, slowly becoming more and more humanoid as he lures Mahito into the estate’s strange tower. Who once posed as a threat becomes Mahito’s companion and even rescuer when the heron retrieves Mahito and his mother from the tower’s delivery room. Some theorize that the heron also symbolizes Miyazaki; as the 83-year-old director nears the end of his life, with his son Goro Miyazaki ultimately failing in his feature Earwig and the Witch (2020), it can be said Miyazaki feels a sense of anxiety about leaving the company as well as the state of animation as a whole. What will the world of animation look like without him? These worries and concerns follow Miyazaki like the heron follows Mahito, taunting him with fantastical, impossible promises (like the illusion the heron creates of Mahito’s mother still being alive).
Similarly, the tower’s wizard, Mahito’s great-granduncle, can also act as a Miyazaki stand-in. His role as the aging old wizard who must pass down his legacy directly parallels Miyazaki’s current position as director of Studio Ghibli; Mahito’s refusal to take on that successor role may signal a “letting go” that coincides with his grieving process with his mother. Mahito must learn to let his mother go and embrace his new life with Natsuko as his mother. Likewise, Miyazaki must come to terms with eventually leaving the world of animation despite his incredible achievements in the industry. While addressing so many complicated topics, the film leaves its main question unanswered for its viewers: how will this industry proceed? Will directors honor the legacy that Miyazaki has left behind? Will they be willing to take artistic risks that a Western audience may or may not immediately understand? These are the questions that audience members are left wondering about, and only time will answer them.
As a film, The Boy and the Heron does what any piece of profound art should do to a viewer: it challenges them, leaves them intrigued—perhaps a bit frustrated—and overall inspires them to experience life more fully, paying attention to small details and creating stories we want to share with the world. Whether Miyazaki meant for this “last” film of his to be a deeply autobiographical one or not, the main message of the film still stands. Like the film’s title in Japan, Miyazaki asks us, “How do we live?” In terms of how to answer him, it is up to us, like Mahito, to decide if we will pursue what truly matters to us.
- Andrea Wagner
CSU Stanislaus
Einstein and the Bomb
Directed by Anthony Philipson, 2024
To everyone’s surprise, Barbenheimer conquered theaters this last summer. For many of us who took part, we can still recall its salty-sweet aftertaste as a rare moment of unity in a divisive world. “I am become death” and “I’m just Ken” meshed unexpectedly well. The odd character out was Einstein, who, at least in my theater experience, provoked unintended laughter during his limited screentime in Oppenheimer (2023). To give him his due, a joint effort between Netflix and the BBC resulted in Einstein and the Bomb (2024), a hybrid docudrama of questionable quality.
In a media landscape dominated by algorithmic predictions and approximations, such an endeavor as Einstein and the Bomb inevitably invites accusations of unoriginal bandwagoning. In other words, every streaming service wants to have results for those who search for “Oppenheimer.” In its indecisiveness, Einstein and the Bomb is more of an ersatz good than a worthy companion piece, a plastic stopgap whose color has flaked off to reveal an unappetizingly dull gray.
At the start of the film, explanatory text crawls across the screen, promising that all the words Einstein speaks are verbatim his own; this feels like an attempt to assuage skeptical viewers who have seen “based on a true story” abused one too many times, but we hear an annoyingly clichéd click of typewriter buttons underneath it. Sophomoric sound design, editing, and pacing immediately undercut the possibility of finally seeing an “accurate” documentary (whatever that means). Rather than establishing the historical background—or even Einstein’s personal background—the film indecisively shifts back and forth from archival footage to colorized re-enactments. Each jump feels disorienting, as does the chronological meandering. Though the filmmakers might have been punning off of Einstein’s theories about the relativity of time, we are left with no stable point of reference to make sense of this web of events. Though Einstein is ostensibly the documentary’s focus, each new scene shows a new year on the screen, and many of these scenes don’t involve the title character. Topics including general relativity, Nazism, the Holocaust, Pearl Harbor, the Manhattan Project, the Cold War, and McCarthyism all parade through the documentary. Each of these topics could easily demand its own documentary (or documentary series), and as a result, this one touches too lightly on all of them.
Einstein only interacts with most of these topics through voiceovers by Aidan McArdle, who plays Einstein in the live-action sequence. Because of the strict adherence to verbal accuracy, these sequences lose much of their realism. Whenever McArdle speaks, it becomes obvious he’s reciting quotes from letters, not engaging in natural conversation. More than a few times, other characters who lack such restraints speak to Einstein, yet McArdle can only nod or make faces back at them. Such rigidity typically appears in ultra-literal biblical re-enactments, such as Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1964 The Gospel According to St. Matthew, and it feels equally deadening here. Normally, such faithfulness to the original would be commendable, but this film proves itself an example of the limitations of accuracy.
In all fairness, I frequently felt the weight of what they attempted with this documentary. Einstein, a pacifist Jew tangentially responsible for the atom bomb, finds his legacy more precarious today than ever before. Now is certainly the time to re-investigate him and the complex nexus of issues that swirled around him, but to do such complexity justice would require a depth and length not afforded by this attempt. Furthermore, the medium of documentary, even a hybrid docudrama, proves too limiting to achieve anything approaching coverage of the topic(s) at hand. From Häxan (1922) to today, documentaries inevitably prioritize entertainment above information. That isn’t necessarily a fault of the genre, but it does betray a mismatch between the topic and the medium. Other documentaries, such as Manson: Music From an Unsound Mind (2019), treat old topics with fresh approaches (in that case, focusing on Manson’s aspirations and connections within the music industry). In short, successful approaches tend to narrow in order to achieve depth.
Einstein and the Bomb’s lack of focus ironically comes into focus at the end, which concludes with a jarring juxtaposition. In a voiceover, Einstein condemns all posterity to hell if we do not improve ourselves morally. But what is the accompanying visual on the screen, the last visual of the documentary? It’s none other than the classic photograph of Einstein playfully sticking his tongue out. Instead of watching Einstein and the Bomb, I recommend you watch a documentary (or better yet, read a book!) on any of the topics raised in this documentary; taking your time with these topics will prove more rewarding than sprinting past all of them.
- Mark Schmidt
University of South Dakota
The Color Purple
Directed by Blitz Bazawule, 2023
Fingers strumming a banjo to the tune of “Huckleberry Pie” take the audience back to a scene in early twentieth-century Georgia with two girls playing hand games in a tree and singing about promises that assure everything will be alright. Adapted from Alice Walker’s novel and the Broadway musical, The Color Purple follows the life of the protagonist Celie Harris-Johnson as she endures losing everything that matters to her because of the men in her life: her babies, her sister, her home, and even her dignity. With everything stripped away, Celie embraces life for what it is instead of what it could be; she takes the brute force of her husband’s hands, listens to her father’s directions, and accepts her place at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Inspired by her relationships with her daughter-in-law Sofia, the blues-singing Shug Avery, and the letters from her far-off sister Nettie, Celie discovers the means to empower herself. The Color Purple is a film that revives the endless possibility of hope and demonstrates the need to have faith in things turning out alright in the end.
When I first viewed the movie’s trailer last fall and saw the all-star cast featured (including Taraji P. Henson, Halle Bailey, Danielle Brooks, Colman Domingo, Corey Hawkins, and so many more), I knew The Color Purple would be a film I needed to see. Enchanted from the beginning, I felt my emotions rise and fall as I witnessed Celie’s life on the screen, and through a sense of catharsis, I felt revived as I left the theater that day. While the film highlights God’s spiritual presence, Celie’s journey through her life demonstrates she is more than a spiritual person; she recognizes her strength lies in more than her faith—it lies in her family and friends who support her, too.
As the film concluded with Celie singing “The Color Purple” with the rest of the cast, tears fell from my eyes due to how Bazawule brought his audience full circle. The film commences and concludes in the same place: it begins with two girls hoping everything will be alright and ends with Celie standing reunited beside her sister, children, and chosen family around the same tree as everyone hums “amen.” She recovers everything the men in her life took from her, and while she thanks God for all He did for her, she also uses her song to thank the people in her life who supported and empowered her. Through Celie’s self-actualization, I recognized the beauty within my own life and the love I share with others.
Shifting to the film’s elements, such as the character performance, music, dance choreography, and costume design, I cannot stop praising the director’s work and the producers who helped produce this film. It’s imperative to appreciate that this film is Steven Spielberg’s second adaptation of The Color Purple and is co-produced with Oprah Winfrey, who originally played Sofia in the first adaptation in 1985. Along with highlighting Oprah, the film also makes a callback in one of the opening scenes depicting Whoopi Goldberg as the midwife of a pregnant Celie. As a small sentimental scene, Goldberg’s presence provides a moment to acknowledge her previous role, like a passing of the torch, and I felt casting her as a midwife aided in symbolizing the birth of a new Celie, a new rendition. By subtly acknowledging the past adaptation, the 2023 version springs up to be as it promises in its advertisement: bolder with its color.
From the red in Shug Avery’s dress within her song “Push Da Button” to the lesbian tension experienced between Shug and Celie, the boldest piece I would like to acknowledge above all else is Danielle Brooks’ role as Sofia. As a hard-headed woman who refuses to be knocked down, Brooks brings to life a woman whose strength should be preached to all women who question their place in the world. In her powerful anthem, “Hell No!” I could not help but join in her march. From sharing her soulful musicality to portraying the beauty of being a Black woman and demonstrating a level of independence that screams, “I don’t need no man,” Brooks gives a performance that deserves an audience’s full level of “Resp-e-ck-t.” Her journey as Sofia alongside Celie helped make the film worthwhile to watch as any I have seen.
A final note I want to mention is the film’s attention to the blues genre of music. As the years progressed in the film, it was entertaining to watch the evolution of blues from a country twang to a sultry jazz to a soulful, uplifting rhythm and blues. As a musical genre created by African Americans, it is very befitting to include this evolution in this film, and it aids in celebrating a fictional tale that contains a rich historical reality. I highly recommend giving The Color Purple a view.
- Heather-Anne Jaeger
CSU Stanislaus
Elemental
Directed by Peter Sohn, 2023
From real-life experiences to a beautifully animated film, Disney’s Elemental magically transports audiences to a world where the elements—fire, water, air, and earth—come to life. Directed by Peter Sohn, best known for directing both Elemental (2023) and The Good Dinosaur (2015), the film shows Disney’s and Pixar’s continuous efforts and enduring abilities to create enchanting tales that resonate with audiences of all ages. Elemental captures the resilience of the protagonist, Ember, as she embarks on a quest to save not only her father’s store but the rest of the space for the fire people as she encounters a diverse range of characters with unique abilities and challenges. I would suggest having tissues nearby during this film, as the timing of events hit so perfectly.
At its core, Elemental is a tale of self-discovery, friendship, and unity’s power amid adversity. Bernie and Cinder Lumen, voiced by Ronnie del Carmen and Shila Ommi, are fire people, and they immigrate to Element City, where they face xenophobia from the other elements. On their track, they create a home and a family business, a convenience store called The Fireplace, where they set up the Blue Flame, which keeps them connected to their culture. Soon after, their daughter, Ember, voiced by the talented Leah Lewis, is born and raised in The Fireplace. The family business is central to Ember’s childhood, and she is preparing to one day take over when her father retires. We begin to notice Ember’s inability to control her temper, which causes her to blow up several times throughout the film—enough to break the pipes in the basement of The Fireplace.
Wade Ripple, voiced by the talented Mamoudou Athie, is a city inspector and water person who gets sucked into the pipes. His empathy is immediately notable, as he feels heavy emotions for others. Reluctantly, Wade writes citations since Bernie had rebuilt the place without permits, and he travels to Element City to submit them. Dedicated, Ember chases after the city inspector to retract the citations that would cause the shutdown of The Fireplace. After Wade hears the despair in Ember’s voice during her quick monologue, he decides to help her convince Gale, his employer, to reconsider the shutdown. Gale says that if they can find the main source of the leak that coincidently sucked Wade into The Fireplace’s basement and stop it, she will forgive the citations; this sparks the rest of their time spent together in the city as they work to stop the leak.
During her journey, Ember realizes her temper has been telling her that she doesn’t want to take over The Fireplace; instead, she wants to use her artistic talent to create glass sculptures and other artwork. After Ember’s skills astonished them, Wade’s mother offered her an internship. Knowing nothing but The Fireplace her whole life, the option of having a career choice overwhelmed Ember. After she decides to continue taking over The Fireplace, Wade gives it one more attempt to stop Ember from hiding how she feels about taking on this responsibility. With this, her father angrily breaks off his retirement and is disappointed that Ember broke the pipes and touched Wade. Throughout the film, Bernie shows his hatred for the repression water people forced on fire people, but in contrast to this, Wade encourages Ember’s fire abilities and always admires her for who she is. I won’t spoil the rest of the movie, but Elemental is a visually stunning and emotionally resonant film that will leave audiences inspired and entertained.
The details of each of the elements are truly remarkable. There is careful consideration in the city, quickly showing its works for the elements. There are also incredible scenes, like when Wade managed to take Ember underwater to show her the Vivisterias, flowers she’d been yearning to see. Ember’s flame also becomes very small when she’s most vulnerable, metaphorically showing the tropes of “feeling small” in the perfect moment. The soundtrack in this film certainly enhances the viewing experience, as each song fits perfectly with the scenes.
There are many themes explored in this film. From socioeconomic statuses to immigration struggles and pressures, the film effectively communicates and artistically displays each intentional theme. Overall, Elemental covers several topics in a fresh and invigorating manner. Whether you’re a longtime fan of Disney classics or simply looking for a captivating adventure, Elemental will delight and inspire audiences of all ages. I rate this film 8/10.
- Estrella Ramos
CSU Stanislaus
Mean Girls
Directed by Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr., 2024
From the big screen to the Broadway stage and back again, Mean Girls (2024) is directed by the husband-wife duo Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr., whose other works include the TV series Quarter Life Poetry (2019). As before, it was produced by Lorne Michaels and adapted for the screen by Tina Fey, who also wrote the original film in 2004 and the script for the Broadway production from 2018 to 2020. This film adaptation presents a version of the Mean Girls universe that blends the original script with the musicality you would expect from a stage production, so it reflects the story’s evolution and the way scriptwriters have told it since they lifted it from the pages of Queen Bees and Wannbees, the 2002 book by Rosalind Wiseman. I would also say this version of Mean Girls is a little more meta in how it tells the audience what it knows of itself.
The movie opens with its first self-disclosure as the story’s outcasts, Janis ʻImiʻike (Auli’i Cravalho) and Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey), make a video on their phone in their garage. As if they are the choir of an old Shakespearian tragedy, they sing to “their followers” (the audience) that what they are about to see is a cautionary tale of being mean and lacking integrity, warning that integrity is not “something you can buy at the mall.”
The scene then cuts to the new “new girl,” Cady Heron (Angourie Rice), singing her own song in the wilds of the African savanna. The lyrics tell of her looking to explore the possibilities of life and her potential for personal growth. Cady is all about “no what-ifs” and “my limit doesn’t exist” until the scene cuts again to her on the first day of school, walking up the sidewalk entrance of her new school. “Watch it, bitch!” is all she gets when a fellow peer making their way through the crowd bumps into her. The first four minutes and 50 seconds prepare the viewer to expect the same storyline: a naive new girl enters the world of high school and will inevitably discover (and maybe even battle) the mean girl inside.
Because song and dance numbers push the plot and its actions forward, there is no inner dialogue from Cady’s omniscient point of view; this makes all the characters very self-aware, which is another way the film recognizes itself and its characters. Regina George (Reneé Rapp) sings her own introduction as she enters the cafeteria’s social scene, confirming she is “a massive deal” and that “she doesn’t care who you are” or “how you feel.” The sequencing from this point is a little out of order from the original, but much of the main plot points remain. Cady immediately falls in love with Aaron Samuels (Christopher Briney), the cute boy who sits in front of her in AP Calculus and Regina’s ex-boyfriend, and breaks into another self-explicating song about being “smart in math” and “stupid in love.”
Additional musical numbers help the audience learn more about the characters. In “Apex Predator,” Janis and Damian warn Cady about the dangers of crossing Regina. Gretchen Wieners (Bebe Wood) reveals that she is unhappy under Regina’s reign in “What’s Wrong with Me?” Throughout her song, Gretchen questions what is wrong with her and admits she can’t hear or believe her mom when she calls her beautiful. Karen Shetty (Avantika) remains ever-clueless, as her boisterous number, “Sexy,” is about the thrill of being a sexy version of yourself on Halloween, which is “like the internet, but with candy.” By far, the best number occurs at the Halloween party; the choreography is intricate, and the sequencing, body movement, and lighting fuse to create a fun cinematic moment.
I’m a fan of this rendition of the Mean Girls universe overall. This troupe is always timely, and I love the work of Tina Fey and her collaborators. This movie is no exception: it brings about self-reflection, wit, and plenty of camp to entertain you. And here is where I leave you to log on and stream to see if this version of Mean Girls ends up in the Burn Book or turns out to be “Totally Grool!”
- Mary Worthington
CSU Stanislaus
Civil War
Directed by Alex Garland, 2024
Set in a near-future dystopian America, the movie opens with a chilling scene of the President of the United States (Nick Offerman) delivering a rousing televised speech about the coming defeat of the insurrectionist “West Coast” forces. Protected in her hotel room as flaming explosions burst in the background of a large, urban city, experienced photographer Lee Smith (Kirsten Dunst) snaps a photograph of the screen.
The movie follows Lee, who has taken an aspiring war photographer Jessie Cullen (Cailee Spaeny), under her wing in the midst of a national revolution. The pair meet when a riot erupts, and as police attempt to contain the chaos, Jessie is struck in the head whilst trying to capture a photo. Lee saves Jessie from the hoard, who is simply starstruck by the famous photographer she looks up to. From then on, despite Lee’s insistence that the young protégé is pursuing a dangerous path as an aspiring war photographer, Jessie clings to her side as they travel with a makeshift crew of fellow photographers to Washington, D.C to capture the ultimate shot: the overthrow of the President of the United States.
The country is in a state of destruction, with lawlessness, uncontained violence, destroyed infrastructure, and danger at every turn. While the military still maintains some control over key areas, most of the country has reverted to a wild-west style of justice, with only vigilante citizens left to patrol their communities. Often using barbaric tactics such as “necklacing,” which refers to burning someone alive by wrapping a gasoline-filled tire around their body, both reasonable and cruel vigilantes go completely unchecked by government authorities. In addition to the violence that plagues the United States, the country’s currency has hyperinflated. At one point during their journey to D.C, the group visits a gas station and are informed that $300 USD will only buy them a sandwich, while the same amount in Canadian dollars is just enough to secure them the gas they need.
What interests me most about this film is its portrayal of a modern Civil War in America, and how this depiction differs from our pre-existing images and beliefs of traditional wars. One scene features two men bloodied and strung up by their hands in a garage. A local gas station owner muses how one of the men went to high school with him, highlighting the absurdity of normal human interaction amidst the dystopian breakdown of the country. In another scene, the group unknowingly stumbles into an active firefight between skilled combatants, where one pink-haired sniper delivers lethal rounds to the opposing fighter. Later in the film, a man in military fatigues executes two of the photographers in cold blood while sporting stylish red-plastic shades. These little character details really intrigued me, because their inclusion paints a picture of a war fought by the same people who might be joking around with their friends, playing video games, watching short-form content on TikTok, or expressing themselves through art. While previous U.S. wars were also fought by average countrymen, the distance from which these wars were fought and differing culture creates fewer reference points for relating to soldiers of the past. What I liked about this film is its depiction of a war fought by people who grew up with silly memes, internet culture, modern conveniences, and all other aspects of everyday life that I have experienced myself.
As the film nears its end, the group manages to make their way to the Capitol Building. The Western Forces have reached the White House, and because much of the military has joined the uprising, the insurrectionists now have access to powerful military equipment. As they force their way into the White House–with the intention of deposing the President and instating an alternative government–the photographers go with them, hoping for the shot of a lifetime: the assassination of the President. As a group of infantrymen quietly clear each room of the White House in search of the President, the photographers follow closely behind with only armored vests and quick decision-making to protect them. The firefight escalates as they approach the President’s quarters while Jessie tails the soldiers, snapping pictures of flying bullets and dropping bodies. In a moment of clarity, Lee watches as Jessie miscalculates and steps out into a hallway as Presidential forces fire down the hall, foreseeing her young protégé’s certain death. Lee jumps in front of her, shoving Jessie to the ground as bullets rip through her chest. Shell-shocked from the incident, Jessie scrambles from the floor to capture the final moments of Lee’s life as the Western Forces neutralize the Presidential soldier who killed the famed photographer.
The film commences with Jessie snapping the coveted photograph of the execution of the President, which some feel is a generous ending considering the role she played in Lee’s death. While one may rightfully point out the foolishness of Jessie’s actions, Lee’s beautiful display of a strong, wise, and experienced photographer sacrificing herself for the overzealous, young mentee is a profound moment of passing the torch along. Despite Jessie’s frustrating missteps that often put her whole group in danger, Lee’s willingness to sacrifice herself was admirable and brought a satisfying end to the movie.
- Chandler Hocking
CSU Stanislaus
Sonic the Hedgehog 3
Directed by Jeff Fowler, 2024
Movies based on beloved video games have experienced a resurgence in the past decade, with the Sonic franchise proving to be a successful addition to the genre. Despite the franchise’s relatively meager start, its third installment, Sonic the Hedgehog 3, has achieved a new level of commercial success that has made its mark in the theaters.
This flick picks back up with Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails working for G.U.N. However, the group is quickly confronted by a powerful hedgehog, Shadow, who has been kept in a bunker for over fifty years. His re-emergence is painfully shocking, as he awakens to a new world that has replaced the one familiar to him. Shadow proves to be far more powerful than even Knuckles, becoming a formidable enemy to the trio despite their combined powers. It is at this point where Sonic begins to question his long held morals.
While many might underestimate this film and label it as nothing more than just a children’s movie rife with niche game references (which are both plentiful and notable), to assume so is to admit one is not adept to enjoy all types of media. Throughout the course of the film, Sonic undergoes heart-wrenching character development after he is fundamentally changed seeing Tom, his adoptive father, seriously injured by the scorned Shadow. This poses a moral dilemma for Sonic, whose loyalties are tested when he is willing to turn against his own friends to obtain the Master Emerald–a relic necessary to save Tom. Audiences are torn between empathizing with Sonic, who believes this is his one chance to save his family from those who seek to hurt them, and genuinely fearing him as he becomes fueled with rage.
In addition to Sonic’s dilemma, audiences are also faced with Shadow’s plight, which is equally, if not more, devastating than Sonic’s. Shadow is grieving the loss of Maria, his sole friend. Though all failed to understand him, she was the only creature capable of winning his friendship. While Maria was a child, her precociousness and naïveté allowed her to befriend Shadow and forge a deep connection between the two. However, this connection was short-lived, as Maria did not live to see adulthood. Instead, she was killed in the crossfire when G.U.N. tried to take Shadow away, leaving him imprisoned and distraught. His grief was left to fuel his ever-growing vengeful spirit, which was utilized at its full force in the beginning of the film, where he managed to overpower the guards and even the trio. Sonic’s Tom and Shadow’s Maria–these two traumatic losses bring both the hedgehogs to combat. Yet, the audience is also faced with somebody even more vengeful than Shadow.
Enter Gerald Robotnik, Maria’s grandfather, who was tasked with raising and protecting the young hedgehog. Reeling from his failure to keep her alive, like Shadow, he too seeks revenge. This desire for revenge takes the form of the total destruction of the world that rejected Shadow and Maria and, by extension, himself.
Distraught by the death of his granddaughter, whom he practically considered his own child, Robotnik is a man with nothing to lose and nothing to gain. However, despite the sorrow he feels for losing a family member, he simultaneously rejects the closest living relative he has to him: Ivo Robotnik. Gerald’s hypocrisy is even more difficult to understand when it is revealed that Ivo was left mostly to his own devices, relying on his prodigal genius to survive. The family’s grief and sorrowful backstory writes tragedy into the stars for the Robotnik bloodline.
Once Sonic and Shadow realize their similarities and their common enemy, they join to stop the cannon that Gerald has created to destroy the world. As they move the cannon away from Earth (slicing the Moon in half in the process), the base wherein the cannon is held begins to combust. It is at this critical moment that Ivo attempts to redeem himself by sacrificing his life for the world. As he pulls the device away from the Earth, he apologizes for his wrongdoings and for betraying Agent Stone, a man who was more family to him than an assistant. His repentance starkly contrasts Ivo from Gerald, posing morally stimulating questions: Who is better–the tyrant or the murderer? Is one better than the other?
Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is a film definitely worth watching. While its childish humor is perhaps too much for some audiences, the ethical dilemmas and suspense posed in this movie are enough to keep you on the edge of your seat. If you have the time, please consider giving it a watch.
- Monica Garnica
CSU Stanislaus
The Wild Robot
Directed by Chris Sanders, 2024
Originally based on the series written by Peter Brown, The Wild Robot, directed by Chris Sanders (2024), utilizes an unconventional protagonist to demonstrate how kindness and mercy foster communities of comradery in the face of adversity. The film’s plot and central characters feel very reminiscent of The Iron Giant (1999) and Wall-E (2008), with the protagonist, ROZZUM Unit 7134 (Roz), mirroring its predecessors’ journey of self-actualization. I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of robots attaining human-like consciousness through their interactions with the natural world–and this movie somewhat delivers on that. Roz’s inability to interact with the animals, having to rely on different pre-recorded lines to communicate with the wildlife, was equal parts humorous and intriguing. It felt like watching someone trying to force a square peg through a round hole.
Roz is initially deserted on the uninhabited island after a storm throws her over the side of a Universal Dynamics cargo ship. Her activation and execution of her programming, even out of her nominally intended environment, highlighted a disparity between nature and programming. Despite the sophisticated technology at her disposal, Roz continually finds herself at a disadvantage on the island. Her only success to conquer nature occurs when Roz imitates it, such as when she mimics a crab to escape low tides. Later in the film, Roz confirms to another reactivated ROZZUM Unit how she’s had to override her programming constantly to successfully adapt to her environment. Though the conflict between Roz and the raccoons depicts an initial incompatibility between her programming and nature, the loss of her rescue beacon is ultimately the catalyst event for Roz gaining sentience. I loved the symbolic indicator of Roz crossing the threshold of programming into individual consciousness through being electrocuted, similar to the iconic Frankenstein sequence. While the ravaging raccoons who were attacking Roz make away with her programming chip, it takes a force like electricity to breed true life in an artificial creation, akin to the monster’s awakening in Shelley’s 1818 novel.
I found the communication styles between Roz and pre-programmed ROZZUM units to be quite impactful in demonstrating the effect of her newfound consciousness on her developing personality. The verbal jousts that the original programming written by Universal Dynamics and Roz’s developing identity engage in was also emotionally well done. Roz’s development, not just as a character, but as a sentient being, is further highlighted in the scene where Brightbill, the sole surviving gosling, hatches. Roz accidentally crushed Brightbill’s nest earlier in the film, and her desire to nurture the gosling incites conflict within her consciousness. A tension exists between the robot’s programming to help others, and her lack of understanding about the significance of birth and death in nature's circle of life. Roz’s sympathy, newly created by her burgeoning sentience, is well-meaning but misplaced, as she is oblivious to the forest’s environmental pressures and realities. Overall, these tensions create really impactful emotional highs for people who love stories of “found-family,” unlikely friendships, and nature prevailing under extraordinary circumstances.
However, I did have some criticisms of the film. For one, I greatly disliked the humanistic personalities given to the animals. While people do play a role in nature, a forest is not a community, and forcing that narrative through the film’s storytelling and worldbuilding requires an immense suspension of disbelief, in addition to the already fantastical future Earth setting. The brutality of surviving in the wilderness felt like a thin veneer trying to disguise the anthropomorphizing of the forest dwellers into a neighborhood community. Pinktail’s motherly advice, Paddler’s woodcutting mania, Fink’s five minutes of acting like a ruthless predator, and Brightbill’s migration training arc all carried an underlying theme of love and kindness connecting everyone. While that undercurrent makes for a generic, feel-good film, it also shaves away the individuality of those animals and makes them into characters who are both more digestible, and capable of comprehending human feelings and ideals.
I also was not a fan of the minute role people played in Roz’s culminating return to society, as it felt like humanity was never really confronted by their own creation. While Brightbill’s assumption of a leadership role and eventual migration signifies how he was able to utilize everything he had learned from his mentors and his mother, his character arc and relationship to Roz feels a little under-baked. The movie’s intention is to provide the climactic forest fight between Universal Dynamics and the animals as a narrative foil because Roz refused her call back to her people, which initially works really well. However, the conflict’s resolution feels incomplete without the final payoff of humanity realizing that their creations can become individuals.
This movie plays with the idea of autonomy, consciousness, free-will, and the intersection of ingrained programming and environmental pressures, but doesn’t delve much deeper than the mere introduction of these concepts. I had hoped for more than well-meaning, generically good platitudes about found-families and communities sticking together. I first noticed this pattern when Fink, a fox who was initially hunting Brightbill’s goose nest, suddenly reformed and decided to help Roz with the gosling. It felt like the author was leaning towards bad habits in failing to address any deeper issues and conflicts within a hypothetical situation like Roz’s, instead pivoting to a classic feel-good tale. I had a good time with the movie overall, and I was hyped to watch it because of my aforementioned love for robots. However, I was ultimately left with a bittersweet aftertaste because the more I thought about the film, the more its cracks began to show.
- Marcio Maragol
CSU Stanislaus
Captain America: Brave New World
Directed by Julius Onah, 2025
Best known for the thriller-drama Luce (2019) and body-horror film The Cloverfield Paradox (2018), Julius Onah has sat back in the directorial seat for Captain America: Brave New World (2025). This highly anticipated addition to the MCU follows Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie) uncover the mastermind behind the failed assassination attempt of President Thaddeus Ross (Harrison Ford). The tension behind the plot is further heightened when Wilson’s close friend, Isaiah Bradley (Carl Lumbley), is framed for the crime. While the film was met with a flood of negative reviews, I believe it successfully brought back the nostalgia of 2010s Marvel, capturing my attention with its intense action scenes and compelling cast. Though the film relies upon the action-packed appeal of its predecessors, it also navigates difficult topics such as the incredible pressure Wilson faces taking up the moniker of Captain America and what it means to hold that title in modern-day America.
Sam Wilson has been one of my favorite characters since his first appearance in Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), and I was ecstatic to learn that Anthony Mackie was finally getting more screen time. I was particularly impressed by the fight scenes that highlighted Wilson’s combat skills, especially in the brawl against Sidewinder (Giancarlo Esposito). Wilson was stabbed by Sidewinder twice and fought while gored by the daggers like it was nothing–an incredible feat when one remembers he did not take the super soldier serum. Rather, his military prowess is driven by pure skill and endurance. Despite these refined combat abilities, the titular character received little to no genuine character development. The Sam Wilson I watched on screen was the same character I’ve seen for the past 10 years. While previous installments highlighted Wilson’s growing sense of responsibility towards the Avengers’ and his country, I would have appreciated further exploration of Wilson’s internal struggle inheriting the title from a close friend and the societal pressures of picking up the shield as a black man in America.
However, the film does not make Wilson out to be a one-dimensional character. He develops as a leader through his mentor-mentee relationship with Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez) after taking him under his wing to train him as the next Falcon. I look forward to the maturation of this relationship in future film installments, as Torres clearly reflects Wilson’s passion and desire to uphold his sense of duty. They both also struggle to differentiate themselves from their predecessors–Wilson feels immense pressure to fill the shoes of the original Captain America, Steve Rogers, while Torres compares himself to Wilson as the original Falcon. Seeing his past, younger self in Torres, Wilson vows to be a guiding light for his protégé in his journey of becoming a superhero.
Carl Lumbly’s captivating performance as Isaiah Bradley was another major draw of the film. As it was revealed in the miniseries, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021), Bradley was subject to innumerous unethical tests, and was wrongfully imprisoned for going against direct orders and saving his fellow soldiers–an act that Steve Rogers was rewarded for. Lumbly’s immersive acting incited viewers to truly sympathize with his character, especially when he is brainwashed at Ross’ summit in a plot to assassinate the president. Upon snapping out of his murderous trance, a soldier forces him to the ground as Bradley begs him not to ruin the suit which he married his wife in. His desperate pleas still play in my mind like a broken record. As the only memento of his late wife–who died while he was incarcerated–the suit serves as a powerful reminder of all Bradley had lost as a result of his first arrest decades prior, essentially destroying his trust in the American government and those in power. His story as the nation’s forgotten super soldier is one that deserves further exploration within the MCU, especially because he acts as the bridge that connects Steve Rogers’ Captain America to Sam Wilson’s, and provides context for the public’s varied perception of them.
Harrison Ford assumed the role of President Ross–or the Red Hulk–from William Hurt, who unfortunately passed away in 2022. I don’t think any audience was shocked by Ford’s superb acting skills, fostering deep sympathy for the complex authoritative figure. Tim Blake Nelson was finally able to reprise his role as Dr. Samuel Sterns, who later becomes The Leader. I have always been fond of The Incredible Hulk (2008), and have been waiting for Kevin Feige to reintroduce the franchise we all know and love back into the MCU. However, Nelson hardly had any screen time, and his post-credit scene with Sam Wilson felt a bit useless as it didn’t really relate to the movie’s main plot.
The final battle scene between Sam Wilson and Red Hulk in the park of cherry blossom trees was honestly pretty underwhelming. Wilson’s attempt to utilize the scenery to calm Red Hulk was reminiscent of the calming lullaby Natasha Romanoff used to turn the Hulk back into Dr. Banner. Now, was I expecting Sam Wilson to say the sun was getting real low? Yes. Was I disappointed when that didn't happen? Also yes. While the fight scene was well-choreographed and action-packed, it ultimately left much to be desired.
Overall, the latest production for the Captain America series is flawed, but has many redeeming qualities that I believe make it worth the watch. There is no denying that Sam Wilson is going to be a crucial character in future MCU projects, especially those dedicated to building up a new Avengers team. Anthony Mackie did the best he could do with what he was given, and I have high hopes that he will be able to further showcase his acting skills in the future.
- Aioema Ahio
CSU Stanislaus
We Live in Time
Directed by John Crowley, 2024
When people think of A24, they think of box-office hits like Lady Bird (2017), Room (2015), and Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022). Despite being massive commercial successes, these films are also incredibly sentimental and heart-wrenching, allowing their audiences to emotionally invest into their characters and storylines. In 2024, John Crowley directed We Live in Time, a film that adopts the same emotional poignancy of its predecessors to establish itself as an A24 cult classic. Crowley is known for directing romantic dramas, such as Brooklyn (2015), The Goldfinch (2019), and Boy A (2007). Though I’m familiar with a few A24 movies, this is my first Crowley film, and I see why A24 picked him up for the project.
A24 films are different from other studios' works; their movies depict the human experience in all its imperfect glory. Initially, I assumed We Live in Time would be your typical Rom-Com–then it was picked up by A24. This movie follows Almut (Florence Pugh) and Tobias (Andrew Garfield) as they experience various trials and tribulations through their relationship together, including Almut’s health issues. Almut has a history of ovarian cancer, and we discover at the beginning of the movie that her cancer has relapsed. The film centers around three major time periods, jumping from the time when Almut and Tobias first began dating, to Almut’s pregnancy, to present day. Their story is told nonlinearly, transitioning from past and present to reflect the fleeting, precious nature of time.
Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield share an incredible connection both on and off screen that really convinces you of the intimacy of their characters’ relationship together. Besides the actors’ personal closeness with one another as great friends and colleagues, the film’s unconventional storyline instills a sense of freshness to the relationship between Almut and Tobias. We Live in Time is not a regular Rom-Com. The film plays off traditional tropes of the genre, such as the “meet-cute” where the love-interests are first introduced. Rather than bumping into each other at a bookstore, Almut runs Tobias over while he is crossing a busy highway. While their first interaction was anything but romantic, I really enjoyed how Pugh and Garfield portrayed the awkwardness of the situation. Despite the clumsiness of their “meet-cute,” there was still clearly an immediate connection between these two people, which I found a new and refreshing way to introduce love interests.
We learn about Almut through the eyes of Tobias, giving us a closer look into his mind and motivations. She introduces herself as a chef and restaurant owner, inviting Tobias to the grand opening of her restaurant. She even extends the invitation to his wife, though we learn the reason he crossed the highway was to sign divorce papers. When Tobias shows up to the opening of Almut’s restaurant, he almost treats the event like a date. There is no tone of awkwardness to the scene, but rather instant attraction, which leads to them leaving together and having a physical connection. The movie continues to prove itself unconventional, as Pugh and Garfield talk through their intimate scene together. I enjoyed watching their relationship blossom without the burden of any unnecessary or melodramatic complications, like Tobias’ ex-wife. I felt like I watched a mature, natural relationship develop.
The film accomplishes this through the three major obstacles Almut and Tobias face together. The first occurs when Almut is confronted by the possibility of her cancer relapsing and must decide what surgical route to take. Although we learn Almut doesn’t want children, she ultimately decides to keep one of her ovaries because she sees herself having a child with Tobias. I think Garfield and Pugh acted out the situation beautifully and maturely, allowing the viewer to feel sympathy for both individuals. You really do root for the couple, and finally seeing their positive pregnancy test felt like watching personal friends discover they were having a child.
The birth scene is unexpected, just like their relationship itself. After getting caught in traffic, Almut gives birth in the bathroom of a gas station with the help of a phone operator and a couple of store employees. Despite the unconventional nature of the birth, it is an extremely emotional scene as Tobias and Almut are full of love and adoration for their baby.
The last scene I want to discuss happens when Almut is invited to compete in the Bocuse d'Or, a world chef championship, to represent the UK. She declines the offer at first because of her health condition and the fact their wedding day is scheduled for the same day as the Bocuse d'Or. However, Almut ultimately decides she won’t let her diagnosis stop her. When Tobias finds out about the competition, it becomes an explosive fight. Though the scene is hard to watch, it sheds the perspective that we are only given one life. The film made me consider that we must take every opportunity that is given to us, no matter the risks, because it is better to say you took a chance than shied away from the challenges.
The beautiful moments of the film make you root for Almut and Tobias not just as a couple, but as flawed and imperfect individuals. Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield did a fantastic job portraying the highs and lows of a relationship, making the film feel more realistic than others within the genre. At times, I felt as though I was watching a relationship behind closed doors, which made some scenes hard to sit through. However, I am glad that the movie didn’t shy away from these moments, including tough scenes like Almut’s cancer treatment. Overall, I felt that this movie really put life into perspective for me. Almut’s line after receiving the news of her relapse stuck with me: “We can spend 12 passive months going through all of this, or we can have 6, 7 or 9 fucking incredible beautiful, productive months together just living life.” If it were me, I think I would choose the latter option because I would like to squeeze as much out of life as time allows me. This is a must-see movie, whether you enjoy Rom-Coms or not. We Live in Time is a film you will not regret watching!
- Nydia De La Cruz
CSU Stanislaus
Television Reviews
One Day
Created by Nicole Taylor, 2024
WARNING: I hope you have a box of tissues nearby because you will definitely need them for this show!
Based on the novel One Day by David Nicholls, this Netflix limited series is a must-watch for many reasons. Initially, I had no clue what to expect, as I had not read the books or watched the 2011 film version starring Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess; however, I was pleasantly surprised (and ultimately moved to tears) by this show.
In the first episode, we meet Emma Morley (played by Ambika Mod) and Dexter Mayhew (played by Leo Woodall) at their graduation ball on July 15, 1988. Even though they both attended the University of Edinburgh, they never formally met (despite Emma admitting she had seen Dexter around). We learn Emma is from a working-class family in Leeds, while Dexter comes from a privileged family in London. Despite these differences, Emma and Dexter connect and spend the whole night together, mostly talking and sharing their goals for their fast-approaching future.
Interestingly, the night they share seems like it will be a simple one-night stand; however, they don’t go that far together. Instead, Emma seems adamant about getting to know more about Dexter, establishing a unique type of friendship between them that continues to the next episode/year. The first episode ends with the two spending the morning together and Emma suggesting they climb Arthur’s Seat (an ancient volcano near the school) where Dexter explains it is St. Swithin’s Day and that the saying goes that if it rains on that day, it will rain the whole summer. Each episode takes place on St. Swithin’s Day of the following year, which becomes a significant day in both of their lives.
How this series is structured is unique in that every episode occurs exactly a year after the previous episode. As the viewer, it adds a level of suspense since we don’t always know where Dexter and Emma will be at the start of the episode. As they begin to find themselves and attempt to navigate their new lives, Dexter and Emma have their own struggles with their careers, relationships, and other problems that arise after graduating from college and entering the “real” world. After their first meeting, Dexter and Emma stay in touch via letters and postcards. While Dexter goes on holiday after graduation, Emma struggles to make ends meet, working at a Mexican restaurant and unsure about what to do with her life.
Dexter and Emma’s friendship contributes to the show’s uniqueness. It’s obvious they both feel more for each other than they express. Yet, they spend years apart, dating others and doing their own things. It is the classic trope of “right person, wrong time,” and while it felt frustrating as the viewer sometimes, it’s the beauty behind the show. Emma and Dexter are individuals, and their stories do not always revolve around each other. During a time when she and Dexter have a falling out and are not friends, Emma becomes a teacher and later a successful author without Dexter’s help. Emma’s story is not always about Dexter or finding love but about finding herself and proving she can achieve her dreams.
As for Dexter, we also learn more about him and his struggles with a drug and alcohol problem, especially after the loss of his mother from cancer. Dexter becomes much more complex than the privileged party boy in the first episode. The show demonstrates character development well: it creates two characters who, as the series progresses, become more and more complex, and we, as the audience, become more and more invested in the two separately.
This show is a love story between two people, but it is also a lot more than that! It is about two people’s life stories and how their experiences in life shaped them into their future selves who can genuinely love each other. Without Dexter and Emma’s separate stories, I don’t think this love story would have been so impactful. While we root for them to get together, we also learn to root for them individually. Dexter and his feelings for her do not define Emma—she doesn’t pine over him and let it rule her life; this makes their stories realistic and turns their love story into one about life itself.
I won’t spoil the ending, but all I know is that I felt the need to hug my partner at the end, and I think any piece of media that creates that effect is powerful. I advise you to embrace this rollercoaster of a show because every bit of it is valuable; I realized this at the end, as it all ties back to Emma and Dexter’s first meeting in the first episode. The only spoiler I will offer is this: it does not rain on any St. Swithin’s Day except in 2001, so be prepared for that downpour.
Cheers!
- Lauren Krone
CSU Stanislaus
Fallout
Created by Graham Wagner and Geneva Robertson-Dworet, 2024
Venturing into the wasteland of television adaptation, the TV series Fallout, directed by Jonathan Nolan and Todd Howard, stands out as a daring attempt to bring the cherished video game franchise to the small screen. This fresh adaptation of Fallout invites both fans of the games and newcomers to delve into its post-apocalyptic landscape in America 200 years after humanity detonated the first nuclear bomb. While the TV series lacks the interactivity of the video game franchise, it still captures the game’s essence through its characters, their development, and distinctive cinematic techniques that mirror the thrill of action. The narrative revolves around three characters who must kill through the wasteland: gulpers, rad roaches, feral ghouls, and raiders to confront the show’s antagonist, Moldaver.
Disclaimer: if you haven’t watched the series yet, be aware that this review contains spoilers!
For those familiar with the video games, the series offers a comforting start, demonstrating its fidelity to the game’s lore. It begins with the iconic introduction of the seven attributes, known as SPECIAL (Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck), that players would select for their gameplay and how successful their character will be in surviving the wasteland beyond the safety of the vaults. The series brings to life this familiar element through our first character, Lucy, who, although many would say she is naive to the reality of the wastelands, the attributes she lists to the council members of Vault 33 demonstrate a well-balanced “player” who can survive. Moreover, her kind-hearted interactions with other members of the vaults and those on the surface (even if they have ill intentions toward her) illustrate a “good” gameplay that players would attempt to play if they wanted to obtain a good reputation in the wastelands. Yet, like any other harsh landscape, Lucy’s trustworthy and good-hearted nature will be warped by what will be required of her to ensure her survival. Such circumstances are no surprise to players, as sometimes the wasteland will require players to make ruthless decisions, which viewers can experience firsthand when Lucy is tasked to cut off a stranger’s head to rescue her father.
Another character introduced to viewers is Maximus, a non-titled member of the Brotherhood of Steel. Maximus doesn’t come from the safety of the vault, but from what he and Thaddeus (another character in the Fallout series) mention regarding the Brotherhood, it’s “complicated,” which is a fair review of the Brotherhood of Steel itself for those familiar with the Brotherhood’s agenda. However, for those who are not, the Brotherhood seeks to preserve advanced pre-war technology and regulate its usage from those they deem irresponsible to handle such power. Yet, their quest to ensure the safety of the wasteland has led to control over the wastelands, resulting in never-ending violence between two other significant factions in the show, The Enclave and the New California Republic (NCR).
Nonetheless, Maximus’s role in the show doesn’t entirely reflect that of the Brotherhood but instead uncovers his ulterior motives: survival and finding a place to call home that abandons the violence of the wasteland. Through this narrative, gamers and viewers come to understand that he’s not inherently good or bad but that his own survival drives him. Maximus’ character echoes the qualities of a “neutral” gameplay, a route many players would play in their playthrough. Yet, similar to Lucy, Maximius’s actions begin to shift as he starts to interact with Lucy and others within the series, revealing that despite the brutal nature of life in the wasteland, it can be slightly less harsh if he considers the effects of his actions on those around him.
Lastly, the series introduces us to the Ghoul (also known as Cooper Howard before the bombs dropped), a foil to Lucy. The Ghoul will do anything to ensure he survives to find his loved ones. Yet, it’s important to note that he wasn’t always the bad guy from the beginning. It’s more like being alive for over two centuries can start making someone impatient for some results (which can you blame the guy?!). While it’s clear that the Ghoul’s actions reflect a morally questionable approach similar to a “bad” gameplay—where he resorts to killing or seriously injuring numerous townspeople in Filly—the Ghoul justifies his actions as necessary to capture his bounty. Yet, the most important part of this scene is its resemblance to the game’s VATS system on the pip-boy Lucy wears. Although the Ghoul doesn’t have one, which doesn’t correlate with the game’s lore or combat system, it still shows the care the directors put into the show to capture the iconic cinematics found in the game.
As viewers learn more about these characters, their journey becomes an example of the larger themes within the Fallout universe: survival, resilience, and the search for what it means to be human in a world ravaged by nuclear devastation. Well, this review references the video game lore in the series, which is a more than “okey-dokey” show I highly recommend to anyone interested in anything post-apocalyptic and satirical.
- Joy Ok
CSU Stanislaus
Adolescence
Directed by Philip Barantini, 2025
Cooking recipes, cat videos, and “story-times.” It’s nearly inconceivable that just below the surface of popular social media platforms such as Instagram, Facebook, and Reddit, a perverted underbelly of hatred and misogyny thrives. Spearheaded by influencers like Andrew Tate, these “red-pilled” online communities promote misogynistic ideas about women and dating, such as the 80/20 rule that dictates 80% of women are only attracted to the top 20% of men. Rather than take agency and ownership of their lives, countless men are brainwashed by ultra-right leaning content to ascribe women the blame for modern dating problems. But this is just an online issue that can be easily avoided by selecting “Not Interested.”
Right?
Based on several real-life cases, Philip Barantini’s dramatic mini-series, Adolescence (2025), follows the arrest of 13-year-old Jamie Miller (Owen Cooper) for the murder of his female classmate, exploring the fallout of what happens when the manosphere ekes out of online forums. While only consisting of four episodes, the mini-series provides a harrowing account of how Jamie’s deplorable actions affect his community at-large, questioning how so many mandated reporters and trusted adults failed to recognize the warning signs. The series is not dedicated to discovering “who-dunnit,” as Jamie’s guilt is confirmed in the first episode. Rather, Adolescence explores the cultural and social implications of online misogyny, forcing viewers to confront issues that social media perpetuates, including cyber-bullying and inappropriate sexual encounters.
Episode one begins suddenly with the police battering down the front door to the Miller house, detaining the young 13-year-old in the manner one might expect reserved for an extremely dangerous individual. Though his arrest seems excessive, as Jamie wets himself out of fright, the moment where he raises his hands before a knife-shaped tear in the wallpaper alludes to his great capacity for violence despite his age. I found Owen Cooper’s performance to be riveting throughout the entirety of this mini-series and was struck by the scope of his emotional range. His genuine cries of innocence had me questioning if he was wrongfully accused of the crime, and if the rest of the series would be some sort of murder-mystery. However, as the story unravels, Jamie is depicted as a complex character whose repressed trauma and poisonous view of women manipulates both his self-image, as well as the perceived validity of his actions.
With the first episode commencing with video-footage of Jamie stabbing his classmate, Katie Leonard, to death, episode two opens with the lead detectives on the case trying to gather information from fellow students. Ashley Walters, who plays DI Luke Bascombe, absolutely stole the episode, depicting a man who struggles to adjust to the new playing field that social media has introduced. There is a profound moment where Bascombe’s son pulls him aside to explain the symbolism of emojis (kidney bean to represent incels, red 100 to represent the 80/20 rule, etc.), asserting to his father, “It all has a meaning, Dad. Everything has a meaning" (“Episode 2” 20:01). Through the explanation of this online language, Adolescence demonstrates that oftentimes parents are too out-of-touch to recognize the danger social media poses until it is too late.
Episode three has received the most critical acclaim, as it represents a critical turning-point in Jamie’s behavior when confronted by clinical psychologist, Briony Ariston (Erin Doherty). Up until this point of the show, Jamie has asserted he’s “done nothing wrong,” and that he “never touched” Katie. However, Ariston’s gentle gauging of Jamie’s view of women, sex, and himself eventually leads to an unconscious admission of guilt, resulting in an explosion of anger. The continuous one-shot of the episode, characteristic to the mini-series, created a stifling, inescapable atmosphere where the watcher feels physically trapped. In a poignant metaphor for men’s consumption of women, Jamie takes a single bite of a cheese and pickle sandwich before leaving it there to rot, as pickles aren’t to his taste. Jamie’s misogynistic beliefs and disdain for women renders the audience, and Ariston herself, disgusted, represented in her inability to touch the sandwich that Jamie ate without even really liking it.
The series then jumps ahead by 13 months, to Jamie’s father’s birthday. Though the Miller family has returned to some level of normalcy, the happy occasion is derailed when a group of neighborhood kids spray paint “Nonse,” or pedophile, onto Eddie Miller’s (Stephen Graham) work van. It is revealed the family have become frequent targets of harassment and are socially isolated by the rest of their community despite their innocence in Katie’s death. However, Eddie greatly struggles to accept the wickedness of his son, perceiving Jamie’s actions to be an extension of his personal failures as a father. Before fading to black, audiences are left with the heart-breaking image of Eddie tucking his son’s stuffed animal into bed, begging for forgiveness for his negligence that allowed Jamie to go down such a violent and hateful path.
Ultimately, Adolescence serves as an important reminder that the content we consume has power over us. It incites a conversation of how social media affects its users, delving into the potential consequences of failing to enact real social change. I recommend this series to anybody, if not for the compelling content, then for the superb acting and incredible stylistic decisions made by Barantini.
- Reagan Oliveira
CSU Stanislaus
Bridgerton: Season Three
Created by Jess Brownell and Shonda Rhimes, 2024
Dearest Gentle Reader,
This author finds herself compelled to impart the talk of the ton in regards to the third season of Bridgerton, an awfully captivating television program adapted from the book series penned by author Julia Quinn. With Season 1 and 2 breaking Netflix streaming records, the latest installation of this series was restlessly awaited by its ardent devotees. Part 1 of this season premiered May 16, 2024, making Part 2’s release on June 13th feel ages apart.
The series of romantic novels have historically been brought to life by Shonda Rhimes and Chris Van Dusen, though the latter has since been replaced by one Jess Brownell. As filming occurred all throughout the United Kingdom, the historical ambience of the series is greatly elevated, as it is set within the early 1800s. A great deal of consideration was clearly taken to result in such an innovative series that satisfies gossip hunger, whilst also indulging in the extravagant Regency era aesthetic. Bridgerton’s historical setting blends quite nicely with its modern elements, such as the diverse ensemble and the relationship dynamics that occur between them. Along with intriguing scandals, Bridgerton tantalizes its audience with illicit tales of romance. Such courtships are depicted as steamy, passionate, and scandalous stories of pursuing love outside of society's expectations.
Like foregoing seasons, the series commences with the beloved debutante season, in which new and previously unsettled disputes arise. This season's couple of focus, Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton, have been an impending and long-awaited romance by the Bridgerton fanbase. Francesca Bridgerton also took part in this London season in search of love. However, the true twist of this installation was that the well-maintained secrecy of Lady Whistledown’s identity was unmasked at last. The season closed with several characters attaining their heart’s utmost desires, whilst also generating suspense for the season to come.
This suspense is achieved by the inclusion of a variety of side-stories. The audience gathers insight on Francesca, Penelope’s relationship with Colin and Eloise, Cressida, the Featherington’s challenges, Violet Bridgerton, the throuple, and more. While an abundance of information creates space for more complex character development, yours truly found it to be slightly overwhelming. Season 1 and 2’s focus on the foremost romantic connections emphasized the evolution of such. With several plotlines intermixing within a mere eight episodes, this season’s primary romance felt as though it was being rushed. A constant redirection of the story at hand created difficulty in following along. No story is inessential, as they serve a purpose in building character background and development. However, because of the immense amount of attention paid to the side characters this season, the courtship between Penelope and Colin felt underdeveloped and lacked necessary screen time.
Speaking of Penelope Featherington, thespian Nicola Coughlan has been highly praised for her performance–and rightfully so. Nicola’s facial expressions and demeanor portrayed the stress of societal pressures a young woman like Penelope would have faced in the Regency era. Nicola put on a fabulous show depicting the variety of heart-wrenching emotions Penelope experiences, ranging from romance and joy, to devastating heartache.
This emotional anguish is initiated by Penelope’s wishes to advance from debutante to wife. The process began with an entirely new wardrobe, hairstyle, and makeup. Her hidden, or unrecognized beauty, is emphasized through each transformation. While depicting a lovely metamorphosis from awkward fledgling to beautiful woman, I question if this sequence was perhaps a bit much? Season 1 and 2 highlighted the actors’ natural beauty with limited makeup. In contrast, Penelope’s makeover included pigmented eyelids, voluminous eyelashes, painted nails, and a revamped color palette of gowns that stepped astray from traditional beauty standards. While it is an undoubted fact that Nicola Coughlan is a beautiful woman, her character’s transformation called into question the show’s previously held dedication to upholding historical accuracy.
However, deviation from the societal norm is not always frowned upon. Much of the ton applauds Bridgerton’s commitment towards promoting inclusivity. In addition to a strong representation of racial diversity within their cast, inclusions of the LGBTQ+ community are at last making an appearance in this third season. One instance of such can be observed through the relationship between Benedict Bridgerton and Lady Tilley Arnold, after he is presented with the opportunity to join Lady Tilley in a casual relationship with her comrade Paul Suarez. The invitation questions his pre-existing notions of intimacy, and offers him the chance to further explore his sexuality. Further, Francesca Bridgerton’s character hints at harboring an unrecognized same-sex desire. Though she marries bachelor John Stirling, in the final episode she is introduced to his cousin, Michaela, and is overcome by her mother’s description of love at first sight. This scene was quite the cliffhanger to leave off of, enticing audiences to return for Season 4.
Ultimately, although I do not feel as though Season 3 quite lived up to my expectations, the Bridgerton franchise has proved successful in its continued ability to captivate and bewitch audiences. I look forward to viewing the next filmic adaptation of the series that has captured the hearts of so many hopeless romantics.
Until the next morsel of gossip, Dearest Readers,
- Rylie Asuncion
CSU Stanislaus
Squid Game: Season 2
Created by Hwang Dong-hyuk, 2024
After a three year wait, I was so excited to watch and react to Season 2 of Squid Game. Season 1, released in 2021, experienced a huge wave of success as watchers became enraptured with the compelling, yet horrific plotline. While the games themselves bring out the worst in its players, learning how the contestants suffered from their financial burdens made me emotionally connect to each character–whether they be a “good guy” or a villain. The childlike nature of the games only intensifies the sobering realization that losing the game means death, with players essentially gambling their lives for the massive cash prize of 456 billion won, or $326,717,776. The first season was torturous, as I felt dread and agony that only one player was allowed to live. Squid Game, Season 2 continues to carry the themes of desperation, survival, social inequality, and the brutal nature of human behavior under capitalist society that characterized Season 1. However, this most recent installment of the series also portrays something even more shocking to viewers than its terrifying games or gristly deaths–hope.
Season 2 takes place two years after Season 1, picking up with former winner Seong Gi-hun (Lee Jung-Jae) in life after the games. Although he has escaped the nightmarish island, Gi-hun is unable to escape the psychological trap of survivor’s guilt, as he is haunted by the games and the people he lost. This pressure and anger leads him on a personal mission to expose the games, which demonstrates huge character growth from Season 1. Disillusioned by money, Gi-hun establishes himself as a leader within the games, making it his personal mission to save as many players as possible whilst also taking down the powers that be.
Another returning character I was thrilled to see get more screen time was Detective Hwang Jun-ho (Wi Ha-Joon). Demoted from policeman to traffic officer, Jun-ho is demoralized by his inability to stop evil in the world after learning his brother is the Front Man, the head of the Squid Game hierarchy. However, he is reinvigorated after Gi-hun propositions him to help uncover the truth about the games once and for all. Jun-ho’s rank is the social link between lowly civilian and shadowy overlord who runs things from behind the scenes. Realizing he can never instill real change through the legal system, which is corrupted by those in power, Jun-ho embarks on a path of vigilantism to bring those involved in the games to justice, including his brother.
There have also been many new characters introduced in this season, causing more excitement and chaos within the games. Each individual brings something new to the table, though watching them all team up and work together reminded me of the original group from Season 1. My personal favorite character introduced was Choi Su-bong, or “Thanos” (Choi Seung-hyun). He brought more thrill and suspense to the series as he did not take the games very seriously, joking around and purposefully causing players to die because he found it amusing. However, Su-bong’s ability to live carefree and block out the horrors around him was extremely relatable.
World audience reactions to Season 2 of Squid Game seem to be a toss up. Many of the viewers praised the acting and emotional backstories of the new characters introduced, including Hyun-ju (Park Sung-hoon), a transgender character who plays the games in hopes of affording gender-affirming care. However, some audiences felt this season was a bit of a let down compared to its predecessor, which I personally agreed with. Despite being less intense and much slower-paced, the general reaction was that this season was very successful in what it set out to do. Though it received a lower Rotten Tomatoes score than Season 1, Season 2 was critically well-received. I believe the main difference was that the audience knew what to expect of Season 2 in terms of how the games worked and what the stakes were. I enjoyed the story and the suspense, but since the audience already knows the general structure of the games, it removed the initial thrill granted by the first season.
My final thoughts are that despite its ups and downs, Season 2 was a solid addition to the Squid Game series. The general plotline and narrative was slower at times than I personally would have liked, but I believe it was essential to develop the characters and allow the audience to connect with them on a more profound level. I look forward to seeing how Season 3 takes shape, as Gi-Hun discovered a secret at the end of Season 2 that completely changed his mindset of the game. However, audiences will not have to suffer too much longer, as the trailer for Squid Game, Season 3 was just released on May 5, 2025 on YouTube. Be sure to check that out in the meantime as we all anxiously await the final showdown between Gi-hun and the Front Man.
- Emily Torres
CSU Stanislaus
Arcane: Season 2
Created by Christian Linke and Alex Yee, 2024
The Emmy-nominated television adaptation, Arcane, created by Christian Linke and Alex Yee, returned for a second and final season this past November. Based on the universe from the popular multiplayer online game, League of Legends, the critically acclaimed Netflix show dropped its 9-episode season in increments from November 9th to 23rd, 2024. Building up suspense to the finale, the season drew in a large audience and gave fans a historic farewell to the world of Arcane.
Arcane, Season 1 showcased the class differences between the oppressed underground city of Zaun and the elite utopian city of Piltover. It followed multiple characters' storylines, primarily focusing on two sisters, Vi and Powder (later known as Jinx), who grew up in Zaun. Their lives are forever changed after Jayce and Viktor create Hextech, a revolutionary magic-harnessing technology that propels Piltover into economic and scientific growth. Though Hextech is a symbol of progress and status in Piltover, down in Zaun it is used for weapons and bodily advancements. Season 1 explores themes of trauma, political tension, betrayal, and the consequences of division, driving the story towards a heavy depressing climax that set the events for Season 2 and left the audience anxiously waiting for the final installment.
Season 2 is split into three acts and picks up right after Jinx bombs the Piltover Council Building, killing three council members and leaving Viktor severely wounded. Jinx is effectively condemned to a life on the run, as she is vengefully pursued by Piltovian enforcer Caitlyn Kiramman for the death of her mother.
ACT ONE:
The first act blends high tension with deep emotional and physical stakes that reveal the role of social class and the division of politics within the fictional world Arcane creates. Stylistic choices in the animation and music help showcase the characters' complex personalities, particularly in the last episode when Caitlyn is named Commander-in-Chief and is deafened by the sound of people pounding their chests in support. Seeing the development of Caitlyn Kiramman’s character was interesting, especially because her acceptance of the position goes against her initial morals of building a peaceful, classless society. The negative effects of her transformation really revealed themselves when she lashed out at Vi, who just wanted to bring her sister to justice peacefully. Further, Caitlyn’s physical violence against Vi and generalization of Jinx and all Zaunites as “animals” really reflects how she has abandoned her moral integrity from Season 1.
ACT TWO:
Act 2 is emotionally intense and adrenaline-inducing between its depiction of personal trauma and politics, but leaves many questions to be answered. Some subplots–like Mel’s mage arc–feel rushed and out of place within the main storyline. It separates her away from the others and turns her into a filler, “throw away” character. She disappeared in the last episode of Act 1, and didn’t come back until Episode 5 of Act 2, which seemed so bizarre and disorganized. Overall, I personally felt Mel needed more development with her whole quest of self-discovery. I also felt the audience needed more background information about the inner workings of the neighboring empire, Noxus, and its secret society, the Black Rose. Though they are hinted at throughout the series, I felt these inclusions were a little underdeveloped and may be especially confusing for those who don’t know the lore of the game. I was also very shocked by Viktor’s death, as he was my favorite character in the series. Although the second act mainly focuses on the main storyline and harbors some intensely emotional moments, it does seem to be the weakest of the three.
ACT THREE:
Arcane’s final act reaches its highest emotional and visual peak, tying everything together in a slightly messy bow. Many of the questions posed by the previous acts are finally answered, including why Jayce killed Viktor. Several deaths occur throughout the last two episodes, many of which were to be expected, but were still emotional to watch nonetheless. In the final face off between Jinx, Vi, and Vander, Jinx sacrificed herself to take down Vander and save Vi. However, there are multiple fan theories that Jinx survived, escaping to “break the cycle” of trauma and self-destruction that has strained the sisters’ relationship with one another. Ultimately, Hextech is destroyed, and the two cities of Zaun and Piltover attempt to mend their severed ties.
Act 3 is emotionally devastating, as many of my favorite characters experience both brutal endings and moving reconciliations. The art style really elevated the beautiful, yet heartbreaking moments of the series, enhancing not just my personal enjoyment, but my emotional response as well.
Despite its strengths, Season 2 felt rushed at times. With only 9 episodes, several subplots felt unfinished, as many scenes and important details were cut for time. This disappointed fans who had patiently awaited the finale, with many hoping these neglected characters will be expanded upon in the confirmed spin-off series.
Flaws aside, I still loved the season, and its finale was one of the best I’ve ever seen. I was utterly enthralled with the constant callbacks and connections to the previous season, and I loved rooting for my favorite characters (RIP Viktor). Despite the existence of gaps within certain subplots, Arcane, Season 2 managed to tie all the characters' storylines together by the end. The finale embraces its morally grey characters, offering a sense of hopeful ambiguity for their future and what it holds. Despite the spoilers mentioned, I’ve left much unsaid and want readers to experience the world of Arcane for themselves. I hope anybody interested in the series genuinely and enthusiastically enjoys it as much as I did.
- Atiana Hernandez
CSU Stanislaus
Book Reviews
But Everyone Feels This Way: How an Autism Diagnosis Saved My Life
by Paige Layle, 2024
Did you ever feel that something was wrong, but you could not put your finger on what the issue was? We all have had that moment at least once in our lives. Several years ago, I had that moment: I was placing the people I love at a distance in many ways, and I wasn’t sure why. After suffering for several months, I decided to go to therapy, and it was there that my therapist diagnosed me as being on the autism spectrum in my mid-40s. Similar to that of Paige Layle, the author of the new memoir But Everyone Feels This Way: How an Autism Diagnosis Saved My Life, I was skeptical at first. How is this possible? My therapist must be wrong. Then it hit me: I am socially awkward; hate small talk in intimate settings; eat the same thing ritualistically; rock while I grade my papers; despise eye contact; have issues with certain foods because of texture; always liked playing games by myself; get very disturbed by changes in my routine; and the list goes on. My therapist was right: I am autistic!
And so is Paige Layle.
“I was autistic, and I have always been autistic” is both a simple and profound sentence in her informative and enlightening memoir, which candidly speaks about her experience as a suicidal young girl who always had difficulties regulating her emotions and behaviors. Throughout the book, most especially at the beginning, she writes about her constant crying fits due to stress, frustration, exhaustion, panic attacks, hyperventilating, and loss of consciousness, among others. She claims that during the first 15 years of her life, she would constantly ask herself: “What’s wrong with me?” And then, she gets her diagnosis at 15 years old, which exposed a whole new set of challenges—including her becoming alienated from her mother and her friends—as she unmasked herself for her own comfort (“masking” is a technique those on the autism spectrum use to avoid making waves in their relationships by showing their true selves). Layle did not change who she was; in fact, she could not change who she was. Instead, in learning more about herself, she changed her behaviors to make herself feel more comfortable in her skin and surrounding environment.
Thus, the book answers the question: how does one work with something beyond their control? Layle takes readers on her harrowing physical and psychological journey from childhood to adulthood, presenting them with a comprehensive understanding of how she developed into the accomplished mental health activist and advocate she has now become, as well as with definitions and descriptions of what makes one a person on the spectrum. It is in these moments where Layle shines. She expertly weaves her unique narrative with data and her opinions about neurodiversity, giving the reader a tutorial while presenting herself as a walking example of what it means to live a life with this disability (Layle clarifies she is “disabled” and not “differently abled,” as some may call themselves).
Because of the previous reasons, But Everyone Feels This Way is a bit different than other texts written by those on the spectrum. Layle is brutally honest, not only about what she can and cannot do and what she will and will not do; she is also brutally honest about how her depression, anxieties, and urges to commit suicide did not and will not define who she is. Now a teacher, Layle educates readers by using a unique mixture of prose, poetry, side notes, and checklists, which can be appealing to both allistic and neurodiverse learners in that they can see how the autistic brain works (“long-range underconnectivity,” for example) while also diving deep into her overactive and overemotional mind.
One of Layle’s more memorable moments involves her favorite chair in the living room of her home. “When my parents moved things around, they always kept the chair in the same place. If they didn’t, I’d get upset. I’d try to live with it, but it was always worse, and I wanted it to go back to normal. My parents always put it back in the perfect spot.” This moment, among others, is a masterfully written example of what Layle and others in her position—including me—go through daily. What are smaller issues for some become exacerbated for the neurodiverse; what is seemingly ridiculous becomes the end of the world, and we do not know why until we do when we receive a diagnosis.
So, how do we cope? Layle has her outlets: she loves to act and dance, for example. But what Layle more importantly expresses is that with a better understanding of autism spectrum disorder by both the patient and the patient’s loved ones, coping can officially begin. There is no longer a need to construct an unreliable narrative, which can unintentionally morph into ableism and alienate the people who want to develop a more fruitful relationship with those fighting through the diagnosis.
By the end of But Everyone Feels This Way, there is no doubt that her journey has led Layle into some sense of peace, but her goal here is not solely to express to her readers what her struggles and triumphs were and are. It is also to ensure that those who do not understand find ways to do so. In an important moment in her text, Layle says: “I don’t believe in ignorance. I believe ignorance is the [sic] one of the worst traits a human being can possess.” She claims it is a “lack of knowledge [that] separates all of us,” and to “change a system, you have to first know there is something that needs to be changed.” Thus, there needs to be more of an “investment” in mental health resources and “better education for teachers and other students.” Layle’s work takes a step in that direction; from this autistic person’s perspective, she does a fine job of using her lived experience as an educational resource to help eradicate the stigmas and stereotypes associated with this disorder.
- Dr. Douglas C. MacLeod, Jr.
SUNY Cobleskill
Hello Stranger
by Katherine Center, 2023
If you lost the ability to recognize people by their faces, do you believe you would still be able to discern the identities of those around you? I think the assumed answer to this question would be “yes” because your identity is so much more than the physical appearance of your face. But if you think about it, familiar voices, styles, and other traits aren’t the first thing you look for in a person: it is typically, if not always, their face. So, what’s to say you genuinely know someone if you can’t cognitively recognize their facial features anymore?
Face blindness, medically termed apperceptive prosopagnosia, is the inability to process or perceive a face. Individuals who acquire this disorder may be unaware of their inability to recognize faces because they lack perception, not the entire physical appearance; the brain is like an ecosystem, so if one part fails and destabilizes it, it will continue performing—only at a slower pace. Essentially, individuals can very well live with face blindness unknowingly if they’re born with it or (if acquired) until they stare at their reflections and realize the person looking back is a stranger. Sadie Montgomery, the protagonist in Katherine Center’s 2023 novel Hello Stranger, experiences this exact predicament.
Now in recovery after undergoing a life-saving brain surgery, Sadie, a portrait artist, discovers she cannot recognize faces—even those belonging to people she has known for years. The ability to recognize faces is thanks to our fusiform face gyrus (FFG), which resides within the brain’s temporal lobe and is essential to facial perception and recognition. Sadie’s surgery leads to swelling (medically referred to as edema), which temporarily affects her FFG. With doctors unable to gauge how long it will be before her ability to recognize faces returns, Sadie learns to navigate life by looking through the lens of face blindness. Her predicament causes unfortunate but hilarious mix-ups alongside many other shenanigans and awkward interactions that a Center novel isn’t complete without. For Sadie, her condition pushes her into unique situations that she would have never willingly encountered in the past. It also forces her to experience the world and interact with those around her differently, and with her own face becoming unrecognizable, she must confront her identity (and even her past) from a new angle, too.
A lot of the conflict arises from Sadie’s mind being unable to meet her halfway with the usual learned assumptions and expectations that come racing to the surface when recognizing a face. As a result, Sadie has to build identities—including her own—based on details she never entirely considered before. On top of all her struggles with family, friends, and herself, Sadie winds up in a love triangle with two faceless men she just met—each one wrapped in ever-changing associations as new details pop up and force her to reevaluate what she thought she already knew several times over. To make matters worse, Sadie gets accepted into a highly competitive portrait competition before her surgery, only now she cannot even see the faces she must paint. So, essentially, Sadie’s in a mess. But personally, I was having a good time.
As is with most topics Center raises in her novels, I had no idea what apperceptive prosopagnosia or anything related to the condition was before reading this book. As an NYT best-selling author with ten published titles (and two book-to-movie adaptations, I might add), Center has proven time and time again that she is not only talented but also very well-informed, and she makes sure her readers are as well. Like all her past stories, Hello Stranger, her tenth novel, deep-dives into human lives and the things we experience alongside the identities, careers, conditions, and anxieties that shape us. Center never fails to weave intimately portrayed friendships, pure-hearted romances, and healing family relationships with educational factors. Readers can always trust Center’s representations because she does research and consults experts to depict them accurately.
While educating and informing her readers, Center also packs her stories with dramatic and comical characters and loads of hilarious, tear-jerking, and heartwarming scenes. Basically, she writes the perfect reads! The first Center novel I read was Things You Save in a Fire, and it honestly cracked my heart open; I’ve learned that her stories will make me cry as much as they will make me laugh. So, I also read her books when I pursue joy, and this novel did not disappoint. Hello Stranger even seemed to have a few extra doses of happiness that made it such a fun, feel-good novel with moments purely fictional in the best way. Categorized in the women’s fiction and contemporary romance genres, I rate this story five stars, and I recommend it to readers looking for a genuine, romantic comedy feel.
Also, Katherine Center will release a new romance novel on June 11, 2024, called The Rom-Commers! You can find more information about Center and her upcoming book here.
- Veronica Aguilar
CSU Stanislaus
An Inheritance of Magic
by Benedict Jacka, 2023
Benedict Jacka’s An Inheritance of Magic covers the story of Stephen Oakwood, a 22-year-old man stretched across the four corners of his life and struggling to mature after his father mysteriously disappeared when he was 19. Stephen’s work life, friend life, search for his father, and practice of Drucraft occupy his thoughts, and the book shows how each part pulls him in different directions. Stephen’s ordinary work and personal life eventually lead him to a crossroads: if he doesn’t do something soon, he’ll have to give up an aspect of his life to focus on the others.
The book’s magic system, Drucraft, manipulates essentia in various ways to create or influence matter. Essentia manifests an omnipresent spiritual energy coursing through all life that doesn’t typically interact with the physical world. This spiritual energy has ebbs and flows like an ocean’s waves or the windiness of the sky. Some of this energy naturally accumulates in certain places consistently and becomes known as a well. Sigls are a result of a Drucraft practitioner channeling the immense power of a well and crafting or condensing essentia into an actual physical item that they can use to channel specific spells that would normally require too much time, concentration, or essentia to cast on their own.
The wells are also intriguing because they are variable, chaotic, and simultaneously predictable. Wells are large reservoirs of essentia that replenish naturally over time, and they also ebb and flow in how fast they replenish depending on their tendency. For example, the well in Stephen’s neighborhood charges fastest in spring and summer because it responds to light. Moreover, practitioners can draw from wells to bolster their magic.
Sigls are odd, but I like them, as they play a significant role in creating magic items. Sigls are essentially crystallized essentia and are extremely difficult to make. Individuals can only create them using the accumulated essentia in naturally occurring wells or other large energy sources. Drucraft practitioners can practice creating a practice sigl using the essentia around them, but only a fully replenished well has enough raw essentia to create a physical item.
In Jacka’s soft magic system, the possibilities for magic items are endless, limited only by the caster’s creativity and imagination. The magic items are made only from essentia, and practitioners commonly use essentia wells in the earth to create them; these conduit items channel ambient essentia from themselves or the world around them. You’ll love An Inheritance of Magic if you like exploring magic systems, learning about the power of perspective, and understanding the difference between theoretical potential and the results of crazy ideas within magic power systems.
Since this book is the first in a new series planned for ten years of book releases, most of the story builds Stephen up, fleshes out his troubles, and introduces him to the wonderous world Jacka built for both the beautifully mundane and the mystically horrific. The streets and experimentation are Stephen’s primary teachers, and they help him gain his footing and an advantage over others in the mystical world. Moreover, his determination, perseverance, and tempered approach to his life and magical studies drew me in; it makes the novel more relatable than many other fantasy books.
Stephen’s background as a mainly self-taught mage also captivated me because I love magic and exploring the limits of our understanding of fantasy. The idea of an incomplete understanding of a system with existing interpretations and curricula beautifully transitions into unconventional modalities of thought; in the novel, such modalities promote a unique perspective that highlights Stephen’s progress as he learns to build his understanding of the mystical arts. It’s fascinating to see how Jacka establishes Stephen’s various reasons for learning Drucraft, as well as the consequences of his haphazard experimentation, which include his decision to share his essentia with his cat, Hobbes, and his efforts to create sigls since his childhood.
The world Stephen inhabits is one of our modern-day struggles for rent and board but doubles as an exploration of the self through mystical fantasy. It’s refreshing to see someone start as someone who doesn’t see their magic as a commercial benefit but as a means of self-expression, exploration, and personal enlightenment. So many books and stories present characters pushed to their extremes that it’s simultaneously soothing and engaging to see Stephen make continuous incremental progress with determination and passion.
The world Jacka paints is one of wild wonder and harmonious chaos, and the protagonist, Stephen, is an underdog with relatable twists over his head in a mundane world that wants him to grow up and in a mystical world that carries various plotlines underpinning the abuses that can come from this largely interpretative and beautiful magic system. The book’s flaws come from how much it talks about how Drucraft works, as it sometimes feels a little much, even for me; from my perspective, however, that’s a minor issue. An Inheritance of Magic is a delightful book with a promising future, and I can’t wait for more installments!
- Marcio Maragol
CSU Stanislaus
Onyx Storm
by Rebecca Yarros, 2025
Rebecca Yarros’ Onyx Storm is the third installment of The Empyrean series, which has quickly become quite the heavy-hitter within the fantasy genre. As a widely anticipated addition to the saga, the novel was already a bestseller by August of last year before its release date of January 21, 2025. Part of The Empyrean’s appeal lies in its descriptive fantasy world called The Continent, which includes dragons, magic, and a military college. Onyx Storm follows Violet Sorrengail, a powerful lightning wielder, and Xaden Riorson, her love interest. The story traverses through islands devoted to the gods in search for information that has long been buried. With Xaden the newly appointed Duke and Violet commanding the sky, Onyx Storm propels the already action-packed story into even more dangerous and uncertain territory.
Fourth Wing, the first novel of the series, introduces Violet into the Riders’ Quadrant of Basgiath War College to train and become a dragon rider after her mother, General Lilith Sorrengail, demands it. Fourth Wing dedicates most of its storyline to following the training and backstabbing the cadets engage in–especially towards Violet. However, the story takes a darker turn after Violet discovers that venin–long-forgotten, dark wielders who derive their powers from the Earth–are in fact real and poses a huge threat to those who live outside of Basgiath’s border. This is where the series really takes shape, chock-full of violence, suspense, and eventually romance.
Following Fourth Wing and Iron Flame, Onyx Storm drops straight back into Basgiath War College with protagonist Violet Sorrengail and her love interest, Xaden Riorson. However, unlike previous installations, Violet is currently reeling from the loss of her mother after she died trying to protect her and the realization that Xaden has been corrupted by the dark power of venin in a similar attempt to ensure her safety. Onyx Storm builds on the tension between Violet and Xaden, as Violet desperately tries to find a cure for venin before it is too late. A consequence of drawing magic directly from the earth is losing a piece of your soul, making the venin heartless. As a powerful lightning wielder, Violet takes it upon herself to find her father’s venin research and finish the job he never was able to. Onyx Storm is a brilliant balance between romance and fantasy, building upon the strong fan base and plot Yarros has developed from the first two novels.
Onyx Storm is essentially a journey to find this mysterious cure, going beyond The Continent for the first time in series history to visit The Isles, which are lands devoted to the gods. While the adventure between the core characters makes for a fun read, I found this novel elicited more questions than it answered. The Isles are one of the most interesting details of the book because we learn more information about the gods and their followers. The most notable of the gods described is Dunne, Goddess of War, because of her prospective connection to Violet. After Violet and her companions approach the Isle’s queen, they are confronted by several people who share her distinctive brown and silver hair–a trait that has been a point of mystery throughout the series. This situation incites the theory that Violet is “blessed” by Dunne, which is an interesting addition to the plotline, though it has yet to be further fleshed out or explained.
One minuscule issue I have with this novel is its inconsistency with the details. Many readers decided to re-read Fourth Wing and Iron Flame in preparation for the newest release because this series is chock-full of information to remember, including names (dragons and riders alike), places, and signets. However, there are multiple instances where provinces and people share the same names, which makes the plot difficult to follow along at times. Luckily, Yarros includes a map and character guide, so if you find yourself getting confused, a few flips back and forth between the text and this handbook might be needed!
I will say, this novel absolutely delivers the action-packed and thrilling conclusion fans have come to expect. Iron Flame’s cliffhanger of Xaden turning venin does not even remotely compare to the end of Onyx Storm. Rebecca Yarros has stated that this series contains five books total, but has yet to start writing the fourth installment. She has also not disclosed when to expect the next book, so it is safe to say that Fourth Wing fans will be on the edge of their seats for the foreseeable future. In the meantime, if you do find yourself in need of more Empyrean content, there are innumerable theories and predictions floating around on Instagram and TikTok. There is also talk of a TV adaptation for these novels in the works, so stay on the lookout for that as well!
Yarros has done a great job maintaining the explosive success of Fourth Wing. Many have debated whether Onyx Storm is up to par with the first two novels, and I believe it is. These three novels have all clicked together like puzzle pieces–albeit an unfinished one–and I enjoy untangling the complex and mystical storyline along the way. I give Onyx Storm 5 stars and recommend it to anyone who loves a fantasy read!
- Normandie Lee
CSU Stanislaus
Colored Television
by Danzy Senna, 2025
Colored Television is Danzy Senna’s sixth novel, a continuation of a stream of fiction that wrestles with the idea of what it means to be mixed race, especially in America, with its sordid history in regard to the subject. The novel follows Jane Gibson, a “biracial” novelist who is obsessed with what this biracialness means. She is caught trying to understand herself in a piece of fiction that is essentially unreadable to anyone other than someone stuck in between identities. I personally have been obsessed with being “mixed,” and have struggled with having an identity that America does not understand. I found this novel to be a great exploration of the taboo question: What does it mean to be a Mulatto?
I initially began my journey with Danzy Senna with her debut novel Caucasia. The novel explores how racial and social ambiguity makes one feel like they must run from something. The idea that Mulattos are somehow outside the laws of our identifying markers incites the feeling of being outside culture and community. When you are a Mulatto you are alone, a fugitive. This novel radically changed my life, giving context to my feelings and the underlying sense of dysmorphia. It was after this book I began to understand the outside-ness of being a Mulatto, something that is distinctly different than being mixed race. It also gave me permission to call myself as such. Caucasia is in many ways the Bible for Mulattos. However, Senna struggled to match the power of her debut. While she has produced notable and worthwhile works of fiction since, Colored Television feels like the proper follow up to that novel. What happens when the little girl from Caucasia grows up and tries to start a life?
Colored Television is what happens. The novel continues to explore Caucasia’s theme of what it means to be in a country where black and white is the standard, and there is very little room for ambiguity. Gibson seems to be somewhat of an autobiographical character, as she is an author struggling to follow up her previous literary successes. However, she also struggles to maintain and discern her own identity against how the rest of the world sees her. She has all the classic markings of a well-balanced protagonist. She is a parent, a professional, and a wife. However, like Senna's work itself, the novel identifies complexity of being Mulatto and the added layer of complication that identity creates within social transactions.
Gibson uses the protagonist in her book to try and discover herself. After pursuing novel-writing for 10 years trying to discover “the truth” about herself, only to fail to be published, Gibson realizes she is further even away from the answer than ever. Here, Senna subtly questions whether we can really find ourselves in literature. Where Gibson once found success, solace, and a way to understand the misunderstood, the author is now met with frustration and fatigue. To combat her writer’s block, Gibson throws herself into a new project: a television show about Mulattos. The form of media reflects the primary struggle Mullatos face–a show is something that is neither a book nor a film, but an amalgamation of both.
Television is the metaphorical expression of being a Mulatto, of being something in between. It is the thing many people love but no one claims to indulge in. If you say you spent your time reading, you are praised for your intellect. If you say you watched a good movie, you are considered relatable. These forms of content say something intrinsic about who you are and what your taste is. However, if you say you spend your free time watching TV, it is almost as though you can watch people’s eyes roll back to a time when there was cable television.
Jane Gibson struggles to categorize her identity through the classifications of standard identities, yet these standard identities offer no clarification as to where being a Mulatto fits. She is a successful English professor whose husband struggles as a painter, producing unrelatable and unprofitable pieces of work all for the sake of art. Their relationship is a clear reversal of gender roles and who supports whom. His visibility as a black man also creates another small existential crisis for their family to manage. Are their kids still considered mixed race? Will they be able to assimilate into a particular culture? And if so, then how?
Colored Television also tackles other ways in which identity is formed. Through the course of the novel, Gibson discovers her son may be on the spectrum and struggles to understand her daughter, who experiences difficulty with self-awareness and angst. Yet through all these standard struggles of life, Senna exposes how these mundane difficulties become even more unmanageable when one doesn’t even understand their own place in society. Having an identity gives someone a bearing to navigate life, and this novel is an exploration of what happens when this “identity” is having no identity at all.
There is a theme within Senna’s novels that the pursuit of finding oneself will often lead to the loss of that self. In trying to reclaim that self, sometimes it is necessary to find an identity outside of the available options and to embrace this new unknownness. In that liminal space between options A and B lies the essence of something entirely different. Whether you are a Mulatto, mixed race, or not, Senna's books use this framing to further explore the mundane struggles of everyday existence and how identity plays such a large part in our stories!
- Jeremiah Washington
CSU Stanislaus
Sunrise on the Reaping
by Suzanne Collins, 2025
Word has spread like wildfire that Suzanne Collins writes a new Hunger Games book when she feels driven to by the shortcomings of our society. So, it is no wonder that her latest installment, Sunrise on the Reaping, packs a suckerpunch of messaging about the media, propaganda, rhetoric, fabrications and perceived truth, and the bystander effect. One politically charged detail of note is the novel’s multiple allusions to George Orwell’s 1984 and themes of surveillance, artificiality (including AI), and media manipulation.
Since Catching Fire first introduced its fans to the plethora of past Hunger Games victors and the concept of Quarter Quells, readers have been itching to learn more about Haymitch Abernathy’s backstory and the Games he won: the 50th Hunger Games and second Quarter Quell. In Haymitch’s Quell, the twist required by Panem was for each district to offer up twice as many tributes—two boys and two girls. Though Haymitch manages to win by innovative means, his waywardness is seen as rebellious in the eyes of the Capitol. He’s punished severely and becomes the picture of pessimism as we know him in the main trilogy.
This novel blends seamlessly into the rest of the series and is perhaps even a bit dependent on the other novels. Many familiar names and some unseen faces weave in and out of the story, from victors featured in Catching Fire to family connections related to our only two other District 12 victors: Katniss Everdeen and Lucy Gray Baird. Some have expressed criticism about Sunrise on the Reaping being merely “fan service,” with its constant symbols and connections to the other books in the series filling in the gaps between certain characters. However, I counter that the “fan service” is doing fans a service by deepening the significance of the series’ darker messages and warnings of dystopia.
If I were to give the novel a rating out of 5 stars, I would give it a 4.9, with my only point deduction being owed to a slightly rushed ending. Does the story stay true to the rest of the books without any deviations or plot holes? Absolutely, right down to the color of Caesar Flickerman’s hair. Does it provide a proper dose of tragedy that justifies Haymitch’s behaviors? Sadly, yes. If it were possible for the concept of a child gladiator competition to get any darker, this novel manages to accomplish just that. Both inside and outside the arena, the story urges us as readers to be more critical of the media, politics, and society in general and to advocate for truth.
(Major Spoilers Ahead)
President Snow’s ruthless vengeance against Haymitch at the end of the novel goes beyond the incomprehensible tragedy of the games and borders on personal cruelty. The luck of Lucy Gray Baird’s escape does not extend to her future Covey counterpart: Lenore Dove. In addition to the obvious–Snow’s politically charged method of poisoning his enemies–there is an eerie parallel between the use of poisoned gumdrops against Lenore and the rat poison of Lucy’s games as well as the technicolor toxicity of Haymitch’s arena; In each instance, luxury or beauty (e.g., the antique compact in Lucy’s case, the colorful gumdrops in Lenore’s, and the perfumed arena flowers in Haymitch’s) conceals death and destruction. Additionally, the symbol of fire that has been so prevalent throughout the series is given even more dimension in Sunrise on the Reaping, including the death of Haymitch’s family. The story no longer cloaks its messages in metaphor. The implications of brainwashed body doubles, tampered media, and apathy/compliance presents a thinly veiled reflection on the world we live in today and our shortcomings as a human race.
(End Spoilers)
Sunrise on the Reaping holds true as yet another expertly written and thought-provoking excursion into the world of Panem by Collins. It finds its place within the lineup of Hunger Games novels as it reveals layers to the overall storyline previously unknown to us. To put it simply, reading this will forever alter your perception of the rest of the series, including what you believe to know about Haymitch’s past and that of many other integral characters. Sunrise on the Reaping has grit and substance that is rhetorically applicable to modern society, while still maintaining classic entertainment value and writerly integrity with nods to Edgar Allan Poe, William Blake, and more. If you can get your hands on a copy, I assure you that those 384 pages will be worth it.
Looking ahead, it’s not to be forgotten that Sunrise on the Reaping has secured a film release in November of 2026, with a promising cast thus far (one that melds popular celebrity faces with two lesser-knowns as frontrunners). Tales of Mockingjays, black mirrors, and underground plots will be making their way to the big screen this fall. But for fear of veering too far away from the intentions of Suzanne Collins’ latest novel and the content of this review, I will reiterate that the film adaptation should not be viewed by audiences as simply a source of entertainment, but a visualization of the story’s frightening criticisms about human nature. At its core, Sunrise on the Reaping advocates for community over division—division that can make the difference between decades of freedom and oppression.
- Schuyler Becker
CSU Stanislaus Alumna