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Licorice Pizza opens with a bursting toilet and adolescent boys dashing in chaos as a result; no better way exists to encapsulate a film of 1970s pandemonium and splendor.

To fancy a filmmaker is to fancy his shoes, his eyes, his legs, the way he drools when he sleeps, and the drugs he does. Pedro Mercedes Almodóvar Caballero, known on the screen simply as “Almodóvar,” fancies himself. Each film he writes is glazed with his life’s sticky resin, polished and bruised in tandem. Such eccentric sincerity is a phenomenon built over time, and understanding Almodóvar’s journey helps us understand what informs his filmmaking.

Twisted moonlight floods an abandoned alleyway with a sickly green-blue tint. Silhouetted humanoid figures crawl along the brick roads and piles of oversized trash, following a massive car. They watch as a pulsating white bag is discarded by its unseen driver. A nauseating chord progression, played in blaring synth, repeats and grows louder as the figures draw closer to the bag, revealing disturbingly realistic human faces, digitally stitched onto furry animated bodies. The entire scene begins to spin as the creatures circle their target. Hissing sounds fill the air. The dance becomes chaotic. The closest figure raises a feline claw. The music swells to a climax. With one swift motion, he tears the bag open.

Truth be told, when my editor informed me that I would be allowed to write this article, I did a little dance behind my black zoom screen. I am far from a figure skating aficionado (unless we’re counting the 3 weeks of figure skating classes I took with my brother when I was 7). That said, I am a huge figure skating fan and have been obsessed with following the performances and careers of some of the best figure skaters of our time. So, in honor of the Beijing 2022 Olympics, I present a list of my favorite figure skating performances from the past decade, in hopes of converting each and every one of you dear readers into the figure skating stan that I am.

It is not every day that you find a movie that encapsulates everything you would ever want in a rom-com. To be both heartwarming and heart-wrenching, witty and beautiful, full of romance and humor. This is exactly what you’ll find in 10 Things I Hate About You, the best movie to watch during Valentine’s weekend. Released in 1999, 10 Things I Hate About You stars Julia Stiles as Kat and Heath Ledger as Patrick as they create the ideal rom-com through a timeless story of love, friendship, and music. 10 Things I Hate About You is my go-to till the world ends. Imagine this: Valentine's Day, on that sweet Monday night, snuggled up with your significant other or snuggled up with warm blankets and hot chocolate. 10 Things I Hate About You’s opening scene is playing, and everything is good. For me, in a long-distance relationship, Valentine's Day will be comprised of looking forward to watching 10 Things I Hate About You via Disney+ Group watch. It is EVERYTHING one could ever want in a rom-com. Here are 10 Things I Love about 10 Things I Hate About You.

There are certain fictional characters that hold very significant personal meanings to their fans, regardless of what media they come from. This can be because we relate to, admire, idolize, or just simply adore these individuals. Spider-Man has always been one of those characters for me, as well as countless others. He’s been my favorite superhero for as long as I can remember. Growing up I had Spider-Man video games, movies, comics, toys, and any other memorabilia you can imagine. Over the years, I only fell more in love with the character of both Spider-Man and Peter Parker in all of his live-action, video game, and animated portrayals. While each live-action film franchise certainly has its own flaws, all three film portrayals of Peter Parker, from Tobey Maguire to Andrew Garfield, and most recently Tom Holland, all have enjoyable qualities. So when rumors began circulating that the first two could potentially make an appearance in Tom’s newest film Spider-Man: No Way Home, It made perfect sense as to why it became one of the most anticipated blockbusters of 2021.

Musical composition has reigned as one of the most defining qualities in films since sound made its debut, but its absence may be just as impactful. Everyone is familiar with films like Jaws, The Pink Panther, or the Star Wars franchise, unquestionably due to their original musical scores, as well as their plots. Céline Sciamma’s 2019 film, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, not only coexists with these movies with a devoid musical framework (at least until the end), but arguably ranks amongst or even above them.

(Spoilers Ahead)

Content warning: this article contains brief mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, historical homophobia and racism.

The year was 1972, and it was a hot summer day when John Wojtowicz and his two partners in crime would attempt to rob the Chase Manhattan Bank in Brooklyn, NY. It was a botched-robbery-turned-hostage-situation that would go down in infamy as one of the first instances of what we have come to refer to as a “media circus.” A few years later, it would be adapted into Sydney Lumet’s 1975 film, Dog Day Afternoon, starring Al Pacino as Sonny, the film counterpart of Wojtowicz.

“Cinema is an art form that brings you the unexpected” (Martin Scorsese, “I Said Marvel Movies Aren’t Cinema: Let Me Explain”).

Ambitions

Wes Anderson gets more and more ambitious with every project he tackles. In the past decade, he wrote, directed, and produced four movies: Moonrise Kingdom, The Grand Budapest Hotel, Isle of Dogs, and The French Dispatch. Each new addition to his filmography features impressive technical achievements in addition to strong narrative and directing choices. Despite his films averaging a budget of twenty-five million dollars, Anderson never ceases to wow critics and audiences alike, and his most recent contribution is no exception. The French Dispatch is about a newspaper’s final issue consisting of three articles spanning over fifty years. The movie’s two-hour runtime is jam-packed with familiar Wes Anderson collaborators, intricate set-pieces, animated sequences, and detailed choreography, and that’s just scratching the surface. Throughout the runtime, the film switches between French dialogue and English dialogue, black and white footage and color footage, and widescreen aspect ratio and 4:3 aspect ratio. Every word, every frame, every choice feels intentional from the creator.

Returning to the films we grew up with can be a painful reality check. Movies like Attack of the Clones, which once resonated with me as a thrilling sci-fi spectacle, now make for an awkward viewing experience due to the stilted acting and grating dialogue. The humor in the live action Alvin and the Chipmunks is far less charming to me today than it was when I was in elementary school. And as soul-crushing as it is to admit, Bionicle: The Mask of Light may not hold up as the fantasy masterpiece I thought it was when I was eight. Even if there’s still some enjoyment to be taken from the sea of bizarre movies that flooded my childhood, rarely does the experience of revisiting them hold a candle to what it was like watching them as a kid.