Problems start piling up like trash during a sanitation strike in Gotham City when a new serial killer leaves clues and more duct tape than a MacGyver episode. To clean up the city streets, a masked detective, who whispers a lot and stares dramatically, teams up with a woman who steals cats, a cop with one good eyebrow, and a butler who looks like he’s really had enough. Will Gotham survive its most recent coordinated attack from a man in green saran wrap who leaves more riddles than a crossword puzzle and keeps confusing the living hell out of everyone as even crime lords begin getting nervous? The city waits to see if this mod squad group of misfits can crack the case using their frowns, fists, and interpretive mood lighting.

In what could have been the ultimate publicity stunt for skin care, a quiet Maryland seaside town’s annual celebration is turned upside down as people burst into pustules like it’s a clearance sale at the contagion outlet. As mutated aquatic bugs with the personality of a lawnmower decide to crash the party, thanks to some radioactive chicken poop and light municipal negligence (you know, small town stuff), these little monsters sneak in through the water supply. As the mayor insists everything is fine, his electorate can’t seem to stop vomiting, panicking, and developing boils the size of meatballs. The uninfected realize there’s only one thing left for them to do: try to record the outbreak on every digital device available, which is now standard emergency protocol. Will these amateur YouTubers get their message out to the public? Will they survive to see another day? And most importantly, will they need to cancel the parade?

When outsiders from the town of Bright Hope trespass on native’s sacred land, disturbing the balance of their culture, and taking the life of one of their own, the local canibals tribe is forced to retaliate by capturing citizens and the wife of a local rancher (Lili Simmons). Declaring the natives monsters, Sherif Hunt (Kurt Russell) rounds up a posse to pursue a mission to rescue their taken residents but are over come by the native population as they use the local town’s folks flesh to sustain their tribe and their bones as tools and weapons used against them. In a battle of survival the tribe attempts to find a way back to living peacefully, in their remote caves, in the silence, in their old ways.

As the golden boy of Olympus, and ultimate nepo baby, Perseus (Harry Hamlin) coasts through life on his divine connections until fate rudely intervenes. As the privileged son of Zeus (Laurence Olivier), he’s handed a grand destiny—but when the jealous gods throw a tantrum and doom his mortal home, he’s forced to actually do something about it. Armed with celestial handouts like a magic sword, a shield that literally shows him the answers, and even a robotic owl (because why struggle when Dad can just rig the game?), Perseus embarks on a quest to slay the monstrous Kraken. In the end, he proves that even a well-connected demigod still has to show up when the chips are down—especially if he wants to keep the family name as legendary.

In this prequel to Monopoly, a drafty mansion full of secrets, suspiciously-themed aliases, and more murder weapons than a group of traveling ninjas on safari, dinner party guests attempt to solve a tale of murder, mystery, and high society mischief, where no one can be trusted, everyone has a motive, and the only thing sharper than the knives are the one-liners. The evening begins innocently enough: a dinner party. As six guests, each named after Mr. Sketch markers - Colonel Mustard, Mrs. Peacock, Professor Plum, Miss Scarlet, Mr. Green, and Mrs. White realize that this isn’t like any of the awkward dinner parties before, like a vegan barbecue, when their blackmailing host winds up dead. As the guest attempt to uncover the perpetrator of this party foul, they scramble through secret passages, accuse each other in British accents, and wield everything from a candlestick to a lead pipe, they begin dropping like flies at a Raid convention. Will they solve the mystery before it’s too late? Find the murderer and get dessert? Or only their just dessert?

When a horny fish man finds a sexy primate woman (Julie Adams) swimming in his lagoon he will stop at nothing trying to woo her into staying. As two jealous scientists, Dr. David Reed (Richard Carlson) and Dr. Mark Williams (Richard Denning), seem willing to do anything to stop the romance and capture the beast with their zany schemes for their own glory, the fish man has other ideas in mind. Will the scientists get their glory? Or will love at first sight persevere for the two star-crossed lovers?

Ever wish the trip to the mall could last forever? This is the story of people living out that fantasy and not letting being dead stop them. It all started with a zombie outbreak, when a group of survivors try to get away from it all with a trip to the mall but they aren’t the only ones with that idea. As the survivors make their way through the stores they quickly realize that bargains aren’t the only thing lurking around - it’s zombies, bet you didn’t see that coming. As they cordon off the undead, lock the doors, stock up on supplies, and start living out every suburban fantasy: eating, shopping, and pretending the mannequins are their neighbors. But just as they settle into their new lifestyle, of course, trouble shows up in the form of a biker gang who decides to raid the mall. Between the zombies clawing their way inside and the bikers wrecking the place like teenagers at a high school dance, things go downhill faster than an escalator in power outage mode. In the end, after a lot of blood, chaos, and consumer product placement, they decide to cash in on their savings and make their stand. Find out who will survive to see their next Black Friday.

It all starts with a rare monkey-rat creature from Sumatra. You know, the kind of thing you’d normally see in a zoo, or maybe working out of a Taco Bell at midnight in Times Square. Anyway, this thing bites a woman named Vera, who just happens to be the world’s nosiest mother. Instead of calling her doctor, she calls it a scratch and keeps hosting tea parties. That’s when the problem begins: she dies, comes back, and suddenly dinner parties start looking like an all-you-can-eat buffet… where you are the buffet.

From there things begin to get weird, the whole neighborhood starts turning into zombies faster than a movie with furious car chases. Lionel, the son, is running around with more undead relatives than a Romeo family reunion. You’ve got priests doing kung fu on the undead, babies crawling out of soup bowls, and a lawnmower being used as a weapon of mass sanitation. 

In the end, Lionel - the guy stuck in the middle of all this - finally stands up to his overbearing mother, who by this point has turned into a building-sized monster with arms big enough to slap a city bus  literally tries to swallow him back into the womb. He cuts her down to size, literally, and cleans up the mess with more mop work than the New York subway system on New Year’s Day. Trust me, it’s not as fun as it sounds. In the end, he kills her, wins the girl, and survives the world’s bloodiest mop job. Moral of the story? Don’t adopt mysterious rats from Skull Island, don’t ignore your overbearing mother and always keep some gardening equipment handy.

It was supposed to be a routine visit to a floating research facility called Aquatica, which turns out to be a fishy mess of hubris, horror, and hemorrhaging, instead of a Sea World competitor. The facility houses a group of scientists attempting to cure Alzheimer’s by making sharks smarter - and not smarter like higher SAT scores, but like Liam Neeson in “Taken” smarter. What follows is less scientific and more of an all you can eat cruise buffet for carnivorous fish , made of humans and parrot. While the turbo-charged intelligent sharks decide they no longer want to be lab rats, they are able to asses the structural integrity of the research facility, systematically flooding specific areas to make the structure collapse into the ocean and allowing them to escape for sequels. Will any of the staff survive? Will the faculty stay afloat? Will any of the research be saved? And will anyone learn that if you make a shark smarter than you, also make it slower too?

Donnie seems like your average teenager - going to high school, riding his bike, making new friends. But when his newest friend, Frank, is imaginary and a six foot bunny with a metal mask that talks, his world is turned upside down as he learns that he’s possibly a conduit for inter-dimensional collapse. This is no Easter Bunny handing out candy, but rather apocalyptic messages in riddles about wormholes and doom, without a jellybean in sight. When Frank tells Donnie that the world will end in 28 days, Donnie responds the way any teenager would: he floods the school, burns down a motivational speaker’s house, and yells at Patrick Swayze. Meanwhile, time loops, parallel universes, and existential dread are all happening simultaneously - like attending your high school reunion after eating a bag of mushrooms. Will Donnie sacrifice himself to reset the timeline? Save his girlfriend? And possibly preserve the space-time continuum? Or will he just chalk it up to a really off week?

It begins with General Ripper (Sterling Hayden) - ah, such a name! - who, fearing a communist conspiracy in his bodily fluids, launched a nuclear strike without permission. Hilarious! Of course, until the politicians panicked, the military fumbled, and are - heh heh - offered... solutions. Logical ones! But will they take it? Ten women per man! A glorious underground civilization, immune to the bomb and... biological boredom. Or they listen to reason? Or, Nein! Boom! Will everything going up in atomic fireworks? Can someone recall the bombers in time? I ask you—why not embrace it? Why not ride the bomb like a cowboy and learn to love it? - ahem! - Mr. President (Peter Sellers), I can walk!

It starts as a nice evening of classical music, there’s no plot - just eight musical numbers, some dancing mushrooms, flying horses, and a demon the size of a city block doing jazz hands on a mountaintop. Then a wizard mouse steals a janitor’s hat and creates a mop army that nearly drowns the orchestra. At one point, hippos wear tutus and perform Swan Lake. Fantasia is what happens when someone gives Beethoven, a paintbrush, and several buckets of hallucinogens to an animation studio. It’s like being hit in the face with a culture cannon loaded with ballet slippers, lava, and existential dread. The music? Beautiful. The visuals? Confusing. The experience? If a broom starts walking around, get yourself a Roomba.

This is the story about a mysterious drifter - a man with no name, which is either an alias or a branding issue, and is also what I used to call my uncle after the court order. This poncho-wearing stranger is about justice, deception, and how much you can accomplish with five bullets, a bulletproof vest, and a really strong jawline. As he struts into a town, with no building codes, he is torn apart by two feuding families: the Baxters and the Rojos - both are criminal organizations with the strategic intelligence of two chipmunks fighting over a flashlight. With more squinting than a solar eclipse in Albuquerque, our near sighted loner decides to go “undercover” and manipulate both gangs against each other for profit, ending up with burning houses, elaborate fake corpses, or beating up fifteen guys in one room using just a matchstick and wounded pride. This film has all the western tropes of gunplay, cigar chomping, dramatic music stings, and a whole subplot involving a kidnapped woman that somehow adds emotional depth and gives our antihero a conscience. In the process, he rescues a hostage, burns down a house, fakes multiple deaths, survives a brutal beating, and still finds time to smoke cigars with the casual cool of a man who’s never read a health warning, just in time to destroy the town he didn’t technically save.

It started in a small coastal town called Antonio Bay, a place so quiet that the loudest sound was the church bell - and the occasional suspiciously timed car alarm. You know, the American dream: white picket fences, a general store, and a dark curse that rises once a century in the form of glowing fog. It’s the kind of thing that doesn’t look good on a postcard. On the eve of their centennial celebration, the town discovered its founding fathers weren’t exactly candidates for sainthood. Turns out they built the place with ill-gotten gold after sinking a ship full of lepers, though I’d have recommend a bake sale. That’s when the fog rolled in and so did the problems. Not the normal kind that delays flights or ruins a good golf game, but the glowing, supernatural kind that comes with sharp-dressed ghosts carrying fishing hooks. Radios begin going haywire, fishing boats get turned into seafood platters, and a priest suddenly realizes the town’s history isn’t exactly suitable for Sunday school. Meanwhile, residents are getting picked off one by one by ghostly sailors carrying hooks - you know you’ve got trouble when even the weather report comes with a body count.

In the end, the townsfolk try to return the stolen gold, hoping the angry spirits will take it and sail off into the mist but the ghosts weren’t exactly in the mood for refunds. It’s kind of like returning a toaster after you’ve already used it for ten years. There were screams, shadows in the mist, and one very dramatic beheading. As the fog rolled back out to sea, the town breathed a sigh of relief - too soon, as it turns out. Because when the mist comes back, so do the ghosts, but not before making it perfectly clear: in Antonio Bay, the forecast is murder, with a chance of headless corpses.

Get out the Visine for another dusty squinting installment of the Wild West. When two bounty hunters, one a quiet sharpshooter named Manco who smokes more cigars than George Burns, and  the other Colonel Mortimer, who looks like he’s perpetually calculating a revenge equation too complicated for even John Wick, begrudgingly team up to take down  gang leader El Indio, who carries a stopwatch that triggers both his crime and childhood trauma. In this classic tale of vengeance, alliance, and how to wear a poncho in the desert without dying of dehydration, there are gunfights, double crosses, more gunfight, and a time where every man carries a gun, wears a hat, and communicates exclusively through prolonged silence and dramatic close-ups. In the end, will it be less about money and more about justice? Or ask the question - why can’t it be both?

It all started with a routine mission to a distant planet… a robot offers someone a martini, a scientist has the brain of a supercomputer, and someone’s subconscious starts vaporizing people - space stuff. But as things progressed the crew of starship C-57D who landed on Altair IV, expecting a few fossils and maybe a nice tan, instead finds Dr. Morbius (Walter Pidgeon) - part-time linguist, full-time Krell groupie - and his daughter Alta (Anne Francis), who was allergic to pants and personal boundaries. The crew soon discovers this Dr. has accessed  ancient alien tech so advanced, it makes microwave popcorn seem like witchcraft. And that’s when things start to go wrong. Badly. As people begin to disappear, lasers fly. Meanwhile, the crew tries not to trip over Robby the Robot, who makes a mean Manhattan but can’t catch the Dr.

In the end, will they learn two most important things about space travel?

1. Never trust a man who calls himself “the sole survivor.”

2. The scariest monsters are either the ones in your head or pants - especially if your head has a degree in philology and unresolved daddy issues - and his daughter doesn’t wear pants.

It’s the story of a man (Ryan Reynolds)… who discovers he’s not a man… but a guy… a guy who’s named Guy… a guy who’s a video game character… which explains why he never blinks. As lives his “life” in a city where explosions happen hourly and nobody questions why a man in a pink bunny suit is parachuting into traffic, he puts on a pair of sunglasses and suddenly sees the world for what it is: a video game full of glitches, weapons, and people teabagging each other for no reason. When he meets a mysterious woman (Jodie Comer) in leather, he finds out his whole life is code, and decides to become a hero—without cheat codes. Meanwhile, the evil tech CEO (Taika Waititi) wants to shut the whole thing down faster than a busted vending machine at Gamescom. Will Guy prove you don’t need to be real to make a difference? Or that you just need heart, courage, and an unlimited respawn counter?

It all began in the desert. A very dry desert. No donuts, no coffee, just dust, sweat, enough leather to upholster a football stadium, and turns into the most aggressive carpool in history. Max Rockatansky, an ex-cop with a 1000-yard stare and the conversational skills of a startled possum, gets captured by a gang of pale bald men who look like they were raised exclusively on protein powder, engine grease, and treat chrome spray paint like Gatorade. Enter Imperator Furiosa, who has both the coolest name and the best eyeliner for 400 miles, who, deciding she’s had enough of her boss, Immortan Joe, hijacks a War Rig full of rebellious women trying to escape his clutches. As Max is turned into a human hood ornament, strapped to a car like a Mardi Gras decoration with trauma, what follows is a two-hour vehicular therapy session conducted at speeds that would make Sammy Hagar anxious. Max eventually escapes his role as blood donor-on-wheels, grunts his way into Furiosa’s circle of trust, and together they lead the fight against tyranny, toxic masculinity, and overuse of flame decals. There are crashes, explosions, and one man playing a flaming guitar on top of a monster truck. In conclusion, Fury Road is a heartwarming tale of friendship, feminism, and flipping over armored semi-trucks, while being chased by pyrotechnic cultists. Buckle up, stay hydrated, and never trust a warlord with a milk hose farm.

Ghost World is the story of two teenage girls, Enid and Rebecca, who graduate high school and find out that the real world is a lot scarier than cafeteria food. Instead of going off to college like normal kids, they spend their time mocking strangers, loitering in diners, and befriending a lonely record collector named Seymour - who, frankly, has more vinyl than sense. Things start to get complicated when Rebecca tries to move on with her life, while Enid stumbles through jobs, art classes, and one disastrous personal ad prank that lands Seymour in a relationship stranger than most of the evidence lockers. There’s no car chase, no bank robbery, and not a single shootout, unless you count Enid shooting her future in the foot. By the end, Enid disappears, maybe onto a bus, maybe into metaphor, while Rebecca’s left behind wondering how long a person can live off sarcasm and bad coffee. Ghost World is about growing up, drifting apart, and realizing that the scariest hauntings don’t come from ghosts at all, but from your own life choices… and maybe some very questionable fashion decisions.

This is the story of three men: one with a cigar, one with a mustache, and one with a poncho. The “Good”, Blondie (Clint Eastwood ), has the looks of a hero but the moral flexibility of a used car salesman. The “Bad”, Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef), makes dishonesty an art form. And the “Ugly”, Tuco (Eli Wallach) - well, let’s just say he has more lives than a cat and worse hygiene than a municipal zoo on chili dog night. All three embark on a treasure hunt during the Civil War chasing after $200,000 in Confederate gold like it’s half-off meatloaf night at the Cracker Barrel, but instead of using a map, they prefer dramatic standoffs, unnecessary close-ups, and an absolute refusal to speak above a whisper. Along the way, they shoot things, glare dramatically with enough squinting to make someone invent contact lenses, and forget to share directions… and somehow, no one ever runs out of bullets or ponchos. In the end, there’s a Mexican standoff, a missing grave, and bullets exchanged, with none of them intending to pay taxes on the gold.

Not in this for thrills but because the best at what we do Neil (Robert De Niro), Chris (Val Kilmer), and Nate (John Voight) run clean, precise, and disciplined outside the boundaries of society with their simple code -. No attachments. No heat.

Their new job, that will set them up for good is the big one—a downtown L.A. bank will be their last before retirement until detective Vincent (Robert De Niro), starts breathing down their necks. This sharp, relentless investigator, lives for the chase. Doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t stop.

With Johnny Law breathing down their necks the group of tight private financier colleagues realize they are being pulled back by their vices: women, money, habits, revenge.

Will the gang’s retirement plan succeed before Vincent catch up to them? Or will they need to walk away from everything—in thirty seconds flat and get day jobs?

After a global nuclear disaster humanity’s in trouble, the population is shrinking and fertile men a rarer than quarters at a Frogger arcade competition. Meet Sam Hell - a man with the unique distinction of being both the last hope for our species and the only man I’ve ever seen issued a government-locked chastity belt. Sam’s teamed up with two female operatives: one who shoots straight and one who… well, let’s just say her weapon isn’t standard issue. Their mission was simple: go into a stronghold run by giant, mutant frogs armed with rifles, grenades, and bad tempers, and rescue a group of women being held there who will repopulate the earth with his, um, help. Will Sam jump through the hoops to rescue the women? Use his silver tongue to talk himself out of trouble? and thrust the fate of the human race forward?

Hereditary is a family drama about grief, woodworking, and… decapitation. It starts with a grandmother’s funeral, which sets off a chain of unsettling events. The daughter, Annie, makes tiny dollhouses for a living - nothing unusual there, except they occasionally seem more accurate than real life. Then there’s her son Peter, who goes to a party, his sister eats cake with nuts, and suddenly the movie takes a very different turn. Let’s just say, if you’re driving home at night, always watch for telephone poles. After that, things really pick up: séances, creepy symbols, and people in the attic who should’ve stayed buried. Of course, it turns out the family is part of a cult that worships a demon named Paimon, who apparently wants a new body. By the end, we all learn why you should always check the fine print before joining grandma’s book club.

A classic tale of boy meets drifter: boy picks up drifter, drifter turns out to be a homicidal maniac with a fondness for psychological torment and a complete disregard for traffic laws. It all begins when a young man named Jim gives a ride to a stranger with more red flags than a Chinese parade. Next thing you know, bodies are piling up fast with a string of suspicious incidents involving roadside carnage, an exploding gas station, and one very traumatized hamburger, and Jim’s getting blamed for everything from vehicular homicide to a very unsettling incident involving a truck and two very unfortunate trailers. This Hitcher, real name John Ryder, proceeds to play a game of psychological cat-and-mouse across the American Southwest. Except the cat is armed, deranged, and possibly immortal, and the mouse forgot to pack pants with an escape route.

What follows is a trail of destruction: frame jobs, abductions, a semi-truck used like a deli slicer, and an entire police department reduced to confetti. In the end, it is a battle of wills, windshield wipers, and sheer existential dread. Will Jim make it cross country alive? Or should he have taken the train?

This story takes place in the House of Flying Daggers, not to be confused with the House of Representatives, though similar in that both involve flying objects, questionable loyalties, elaborate costumes, an undercover agent who falls in love, another cop who also falls in love, and a rebel group with more costume changes than a Madonna concert at Madison Square Garden. At the center of it all is a blind dancer named Mei who performs with the precision of a Swiss watch and the lethality of a ninja-infused sewing machine. Next thing you know, everyone’s flipping through the air and fighting in a bamboo forest that has more spring than a rented bouncy house at an eight year old’s birthday party. By the time we reach the snowy final act, three people are bleeding, crying, dying, and still managing to deliver dialogue like a Shakespearean tragedy on ice. The love triangle: isosceles; the martial arts: physics-defying; the political rebellion: like Edward Scissorhands joined Cirque de Soleil.

The Soviet Union is shocked when one of their submarine captains with a Scottish accent runs off with their newest nuclear sub. Not thinking things through, Marko Ramius (Sean Connery) has had it with communism and lousy food in Russia and decides to defect to the United States without telling anyone his plan. With a rogue stealth nuclear submarine in the water, the U.S. government goes on a high alert and only a nerdy librarian with a gun, Jack Ryan (Alec Baldwin), can figure it all out! With torpedoes, betrayals, fake cookouts, and so many sonar pings than dolphins start to complain, Jack must convince the powers that be that this is not the start of WWIII, but is simply that Marko has chosen his wedding anniversary to his late wife as a good time to defect to the United States. Will he convince them in time? Will courage, diplomacy, and a complete disregard for standard protocol resolve the situation? Or will the world go up in a mushroom cloud of smoke? But one thing’s for sure - always read dust covers of foreign biographies and keep your periscopes clean.

When a man (Muse Watson) out on a summer night’s stroll is hit by four overprivileged brats (Jennifer Love Hewitt, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ryan Phillippe, Freddie Prinze Jr.) with their car and decide to drown him instead of taking him to the hospital, he decides to take a year to recuperate and hatch his plan for revenge. But as the tide always comes back in, this summer…he’s reeling them in, one by one. As the attempted murderers return from college to attend pageants, parties, and pretending their consciences are clean, this fisherman starts working outside the law for justice. As our attractive and suspiciously well-groomed criminals find themselves being stalked by a raincoat-wearing lunatic with a hook for a hand and a serious grudge - he puts his plan into action! Will they survive? Will they stop making terrible decisions? And most importantly… will anyone ever figure out what, exactly, they did last summer?

Mayor Vaughn (Murray Hamilton) is trying to protect his town of Amity, a summer tourist town where beaches support the economy. Hot shot New York City cop Chief Brody (Roy Scheider), shows up and starts shouting "shark!" when a girl turns up dead. To save his constituents and without any real proof, Vaughn decides to not shut everything down based on a hunch.

But hindsight’s 20/20 and more attacks happen. As the desperate Mayor brings in experts from the Oceanography Institute, Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), sends out fishermen. When all they come back with a sunken boat, a chewed-up story, and the wrong shark, the Chief pressures him into hiring an old sea kook Quint (Robert Shaw) to kill the shark. If the Mayor can keep the money flowing, and stop the panic he might still be able to save August tourism and get re-elected.

After being successfully re-elected following the events of summer 1975, Mayor Vaughn now needs to protect the real estate investors that supported his re-election campaign by downplaying more shark attacks. Once again Chief Brody is up to his old tricks, yelling “shark!” all over the island and shooting up the beaches. As this new menace looks to really stick it to the Chief, it decides to follow the makeshift regatta his sons are in with their horny teenage friends. Will the shark get them before they “get some”? Will Chief Brody be eating fish for dinner all week? and will we finally learn the answer of helicopter vs. shark? The answers just may surprise you.

This is a story involving teenagers, unspeakable evil, eyeliner, and the worst school dance since junior high. The trouble starts in the sleepy town of Devil’s Kettle, which really should’ve been the first red flag, when Jennifer goes out with a rock band whose music is so bad that they think sacrificing a virgin would boost their careers. Unfortunately for them, Jennifer is as far from a virgin as Gandhi is to a cruise ship buffet, and literally opens a portal to hell. As her best friend, Needy - that’s really her name - starts to put the pieces together between pep rallies and English class after Jennifer starts levitating, vomiting black goo, and developing a taste for human flesh, she realizes it’s probably just a TikTok challenge everything comes to a head. Now Jennifer, your typical high school cheerleader: popular, stylish, and possessed by a flesh-eating demon, develops a taste for varsity quarterbacks and band geeks.  Will these teens learn the lesson of the dangers of peer pressure, demonic possession, and indie bands with poor ritual planning?

When city people lose their minds the second they see a big lizard with teeth, Mrs. Delores Bickerman (Betty White) needs to protect her wildlife friend from the outsiders. After a sarcastic guy, a lady from the museum who thinks she knows everything, and a nice sheriff start blowing up half the lake trying to catch the animal and getting half of Maine’s wildlife division involved - they realize this “friend” is a giant crocodile! Will these idiots they brought in be able to sedate and capture the beast? Or will Mrs. Bickerman be stuck with an emptiness in her heart she hasn’t felt since she fed her husband to the amphibious reptile? ("he was getting on my nerves anyway")

As the frontier nears collapse and bring an end to the galactic war, Lord Kril (Dan Mason), commander of the Ko-Dan Armada, stands on the brink of total victory. The fractured and weak Star League with its defenses outdated look to be defeated when Centauri (Robert Preston) gains Atari like technology. As Centauri executes his experiment in recruitment, from the backwater primitive planet Earth a boy named Alex Rogan (Lance Guest), plucked from his trailer park obscurity as a "Starfighter" to outwitted the Ko-Dan Armada after completing his 8 bit drone training program. As the traitorous Xur (Norman Snow) feeds intel to Kril, his armada poised to strike and end the war. Will this "Starfighter" outwitted the armada and destroy their forces because he got his initials on a arcade game and no actual training? Or will the galactic wars finally come to en end?

When his partner is eaten to death by a shark that isn’t even considered real, ever-fading legend in the twilight of his credibility oceanographer Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) makes it his mission to capture the elusive perpetrator on film and prove its existence. Steve wagers what remains of his reputation on his mythical  “Jaguar Shark”: not so much an expedition as it is a slow-motion shipwreck; a budget-less revenge tour aboard a rusting death trap with his motley crew, manned by unpaid interns, a heavily armed German, and a dolphin crew that never follows basic commands. Steve brings along a boy who may or may not be his son - he isn’t sure - and a journalist who slowly realizes she is embedded in a personal breakdown. While Steve attempts to realize his dream and outmaneuver pirates, unpaid debts, his ex-wife and longtime nemesis Captain Alistair Hennessey (Jeff Goldblum), we wonder if his expedition will succeed, or if it’s just another fish story.

When a kidnapped orphan child, Laura (Dafne Keen), suddenly enters the life of her alcoholic father, Logan (Hugh Jackman), it completely upends his barely-functioning assisted living setup with his equally crumbling companion. Now just scraping by, with almost enough money saved up to realize his dreams of retirement, Logan and his geriatric sidekick Charles (Patrick Stewart) finds himself reluctantly road-tripping to Canada to reunite Laura with her teenage friends. But hot on their heels are the ruthless operatives who want Laura back who and will stop at nothing. As they make their way north across the US, ruining  everyone’s lives they come in contact with and they leave chaos in their wake, Logan realizes Laura just might be the one thing he didn’t know he’s been missing all his life.

It all seemed like a utopian society where no one grows old because they murder you at thirty. This brave new world is filled with all the futuristic amenities for people who live in a big plastic dome filled with shopping malls, holograms, and jump suits so tight it feels like a flash mob pilates class might break out any minute. But isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. When the citizens of the dome city mall reach their thirtieth birthday - it’s no party. They’re sent to a ceremony called “Carousel” which promises “renewal” but mostly involves getting zapped to dust while floating. Logan 5 (Michael York) is a professional Sandman who is tasked with hunting down those who don’t attend their birthday party to be exploded. When he meets a woman (Jenny Agutter) who’s dressed like she works at a 70s themed disco yogurt bar he starts asking questions like “What if being thirty isn’t a death sentence?” and “Why is everyone dressed like this?” And decides to escape the city. Outside the city he discovers a whole new world called “outside.” A place that has dirt, no food courts and an old man with cats on his head that he didn’t think could exist. Will Logan see his thirty-first birthday and bring the outside in? Or bring glamping back in the year 2274?

Looper is the story of a young man named Joe, who makes a living in the future by shooting people from the even more future sent back to the past which is still our future. It’s kind of like a delivery service, except the packages are alive, tied up, and very surprised. Joe’s job is simple - stand in a cornfield, wait for someone to appear, shoot them, and then spend the rest of the day wondering if this counts as overtime.One day, Joe’s latest “delivery” turns out to be… Joe. Only older. And balder. And Bruce Willis. Instead of shooting himself like he’s supposed to, Joe hesitates, Future Joe escapes, and suddenly Present Joe is chasing Future Joe while Future Joe is trying to kill a child who may or may not grow up to be an evil telekinetic crime boss. It’s the kind of story that makes you wonder if you should’ve brought a chalkboard and a stiff drink. In between all the time paradoxes, there’s a farmhouse, a lot of running, and enough shotgun shells to make a sporting goods store jealous. In the end, Joe figures out the only way to stop the chaos is to take himself out of the equation entirely - which is just a fancy way of saying he shoots himself so that he doesn’t shoot himself later.

We begin with Bob Harris (Bill Murray), an aging American movie star whose face is more tired than a news anchor on election night, who’s in Tokyo to shoot whiskey commercials, which is ironic because that’s what you need to understand what he’s feeling. Bob's got a wife back home who sends him faxes about shelves. Think James Bond, but with more sighing and less espionage. Enter Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson): a young woman married to a photographer who takes more pictures of rock bands than of his own wife. She’s smart, introspective, and bored enough to make talking to Bill Murray seem like a thrilling night out. Together, Bob and Charlotte wander through Tokyo like two confused tourists with more soft lighting, awkward silences, and a growing sense that they should probably be doing something more meaningful than a philosophical perfume commercial. As they bond over sushi, jet lag, and awkward silences so long they qualify as commercial breaks, they roam the city, sing karaoke, and sit quietly in hotel bars - like a buddy cop movie where neither buddy fires a gun or knows exactly why they’re even in the movie. There’s no big romance, no explosions, and no evil henchmen - leaving you wondering if I’d just witnessed a love story, a midlife crisis, or an unusually expensive travel brochure.

After getting a job in the mill out of charity, oddball chemist Sidney Stratton (Sir Alec Guinness) uses the company’s equipment to create a suit that never stains, never tears, and never wears out. The company quickly realizes that their main product can no longer rely on obsoletism to sustain their business - no one will ever need another suit again. Ever! No repeat customers. No turnover. No textile industry. In an effort to protect the company workers, the employee union bands together with management to shut down this rogue scientist. It’s only a matter of time before word gets out about his invention - will they be able to save the economy before it’s too late?

Ack! Ack! In the middle of Tom Jones’ (Tom Jones) Las Vegas residency - sold-out shows, backup dancers, the works - flying saucers arrive and steal his thunder. As the gullible humans believe the martians came in peace, turns out, their idea of peace involves turning people into skeletons, leaving the singer to playing to empty concert halls…But the show must go on! In an attempt to fulfill his contractually obligated concerts the singer takes matters into his own hands to save the earth and his career. In the end, will it be firepower or music that saves the day?

Behold this cautionary tale about what happens when curiosity, wealth, and poor judgment meet below sea level.  When a group of highly trained scientists breach some kind of underwater force field they seem to know nothing about, a prehistoric shark the size of a football field and a grudge against anything man made, including man, sneaks out from the abyss. The only thing that can possibly stop this prehistoric giant is a man with a mysterious past, fear of commitment, and an allergy to wearing a shirt - Jonas Taylor. Even with his unparalleled ability to hold his breath, punch things, and maintain exactly one facial expression, the giant animal becomes harder to find than a parking space at a Trader Joes the week before Thanksgiving. The tension: high; the swimsuits : small; the people: like shrimp at an all you can eat Vegas buffet. Will only only a homemade torpedo, pensive scowls, and toned pecks be enough to stop a shark that can swallow a bus (which would be difficult for the shark because busses are on land), or will it never be safe to go back in the water?

It began like any other Tuesday: a crooked senator, a corrupt businessman, and a routine briefing about infrastructure quickly turned into a tale of sharp edges, sharp suits, and even sharper plot twists. The story follows Machete Cortez, an ex-Federale with a voice like gravel and a stare that could grill a steak, who’s hired to perform a political assassination, but surprise! It was a setup. Classic double-cross. Possibly a triple. I lost count around the mariachi band shootout. As he untangles a plot tangled by politicians, drug lords, and at least one man with a ponytail in a crochet store in a hurricane, he teams up with a taco truck freedom fighter, a disillusioned immigration officer, and Michelle Rodriguez in sunglasses. With a whirlwind of bullets, betrayal, tacos, and enough vengeance to fuel three soap operas and a congressional hearing. As he fights corruption with nothing but a machete, a motorcycle with a flamethrower, and an unshakable ability to look cool while jumping out of hospital windows, he becomes a searing indictment of border politics, organized crime, and slow-motion explosions.

It all started with a storm in Maine. That’s Maine, the state, not ‘main’ as in central or important. Although, I suppose the storm was both. After the violent storm, a mysterious mist rolled in—thick enough to hide a marching band, loud enough to silence the local weatherman. Citizens gathered in the supermarket, which was normally a safe haven for discount paper towels, but quickly became ground zero for hysteria, tentacle attacks, and one very disturbing incident involving a can of peas.

The mist concealed creatures of unknown origin. Some had claws, others had wings, and at least one looked suspiciously like my mother-in-law after a bad perm. As panic spread, the townspeople split into factions: the practical, the panicked, and the prophet. The prophet insisted the mist was divine punishment, though I personally thought it was more likely a plumbing issue. Regardless, people began disappearing faster than coupons on double-discount Tuesday. And while out in the parking lot there are monsters with more legs than a tap-dancing centipede, inside there are customers who think ‘aisle three’ is a great place to start a new religion.

In the end, our hero escapes with his son and a few survivors, only to face a twist so cruel it makes forgetting your coupon book at home look like a blessing. Unfortunately, his plan ended in tragedy, misunderstanding, and very poor timing. Moments after making a decision more final than a tax audit, the U.S. military arrived to clean things up. If there’s a moral, it’s this: never give up too soon, never trust a supermarket crowd, and above all, never shop during a fog advisory.

Sam (Sam Rockwell) is a regular space working guy contracted for Lunar Industries and trying to wrap up a three-year solo stint harvesting helium-3 on the moon. But when his rover crashes, he wakes up to find out he isn’t alone on Sarang Station - he’s already there! Sam learns that he has been part of a fully authorized, perfectly humane, participant in the Contractual Lunar Duplication Initiative, which has been duplicating a man repeatedly to avoid paying union wages.  With only a cloned workforce, memory tampering, and artificially intelligent robots with suspiciously soothing serial killer voices... he’s unable to successfully navigate the company’s HR department and is forced to make his way back to Earth to file a formal complaint. Will he make it back before the office closes at 5? And next time he enters into a contract with SleepTech Bioresearch - will he read the fine print? And will GERTY (Kevin Spacey), the station’s AI, who did not violate any Asimovian protocols, be promoted to Regional Manager of Ethics and Office Morale?

Motel Hell is a heartwarming film about family, small business, a touching story of Farmer Vincent, a man who runs a roadside inn with his sister, and the importance of eating locally sourced food. Farmer Vincent and his sister run a quaint little motel on the side of the highway. To the untrained eye, it looks like any other roadside stop—clean rooms, reasonable rates, and a meat smoker out back. They make their own brand of smoked meats. The slogan is simple: ‘It takes all kinds of critters to make Farmer Vincent’s fritters.’ What they don’t mention is that sometimes the critters are… people. The process is fairly straightforward. Vincent kidnaps travelers, buries them in his garden up to their necks, and treats them like crops until it’s time to harvest. Then he turns them into sausage. Not exactly farm-to-table—more like interstate-to-table. You’ve probably stayed at motels before where the breakfast was questionable, but never to this degree. Things get complicated when Vincent falls for a young woman he rescues after a motorcycle accident. Between the romance, the secret garden full of buried heads, and a showdown involving a chainsaw and a pig’s head mask, it’s safe to say Motel Hell isn’t listed on AAA’s most recommended lodging. In the end, Vincent admits on his deathbed that his real crime wasn’t cannibalism, kidnapping, or mass murder. No, it was using preservatives. A shocking revelation, and one that makes you think twice about reading the ingredients on a package of sausage.

This story begins with two drifters - one prone to narcolepsy, the other prone to making Shakespeare sound like a parking ticket. They wandered from the potato fields of Idaho to the streets of Portland, then all the way to Italy, in search of love, family, and directions back to the bus station. Along the way there were hustlers, broken hearts, and more campfires than the fire marshal would allow. In the end, it’s a touching tale about friendship, loneliness, and the dangers of napping in traffic.

Robert Altman's NASHVILLE is an explosive drama and a human comedy 1 that delineates and interweaves the lives of 24 major characters during five days in the country music capital of the world. Although its setting is Tennessee, NASHVILLE is a much broader vision of our culture, a penetrating and multi-level portrait of America at a particular time and place. Five Academy Award® nominations including Keith Carradine's Oscar -winning song "I'm Easy.”

Needful Things is a cautionary tale about shopping locally. It takes place in a small town in Maine, which is never a good start. That’s where a new store opens up - Needful Things. From the outside, it looked harmless. From the inside, it looked… like a store.  It’s run by a polite gentleman named Leland Gaunt. He offers every customer the one item they’ve always wanted most in life. A baseball card, a necklace, even a fishing rod. At first it seems like a dream come true. Like shopping at Amazon.com only in person. But there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. In this case, you have to pay him back - not with money, but with small pranks. ‘Put this here, break that there, spread a little gossip.’ Before you know it, the whole town is at each other’s throats like it’s 6 am at a Walmart on Black Friday. Church ladies are throwing punches, respectable citizens are setting each other’s houses on fire, and it all started because someone wanted a signed Mickey Mantle card. Eventually, the sheriff figures out what’s going on. He tries to stop Gaunt, but the townspeople are too busy tearing each other apart. In the end, Gaunt leaves town, smiling, promising to set up shop again somewhere else. Probably near a mall with decent walk up traffic.

This is a story where a respected news anchor named Howard Beale has a nervous breakdown on live television... and somehow gets better ratings than Fox. It all starts when Beale, a veteran newsman, announces on-air that he is going to blow his brains out on live television. Now, normally, that would get you an Emmy, or at least a stern memo from HR, but instead, the network gives him a new time slot. There’s corporate conspiracies, on-air rants, and a woman who produces the news like it’s televised anarchy. The victim? Public trust. The weapon? A news camera... and perhaps unchecked capitalism. This is a news broadcast where nobody’s watching the teleprompter, everyone’s mad as hell, and ethics left the studio during a commercial break. I give it four out of five emergency FCC violations.

In The Omega Man we follow Charlton Heston, a man so tough he survives the end of the world with nothing but a convertible, a closet full of velvet jackets, and enough automatic rifles to open a small sporting goods store. He’s one of the last survivors after a biological war wipes out most of humanity - though fortunately, he still has time to catch a matinee at an abandoned movie theater. The rest of the population isn’t quite gone - they’ve become pale, hooded mutants who hate technology, light, and skin care. They spend their nights chanting like a really angry neighborhood watch, throwing torches at Heston’s house, and complaining about his use of electricity. In between fighting them off, Heston discovers another pocket of survivors, including a woman who manages to keep her hair perfect during the apocalypse. Together, they try to cure the plague, though most of his time is spent shooting at shadows and delivering one-liners. The Omega Man is half action, half sermon, and entirely proof that if you’re going to be fighting at the end of the world  - bring a  turtleneck.

It’s a PSA for adoption, political ambition, parental anxiety, and, not surprisingly, the Antichrist. It begins with diplomat Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck), who, while stationed in Rome, swaps his stillborn baby with a mysterious orphan handed to him in the shadows of an Italian hospital. Nothing suspicious about that - unless you've read a Bible, a horror novel, or watched daytime television. Everything seems fine until little Damien (Harvey Stephens) turns five, develops a fear of churches, and an affinity for staring ominously into the distance. As the body count begins to pile up - a nanny commits the ultimate party foul, a priest who tries to warn the Thorns but gets shish-kebabed by a flying lightning rod, things start to become clear…Coincidence? Maybe. Suspicious? Definitely. Paranormal? Absolutely. Enter a photographer who notices mysterious shadows in his pictures that just so happen to predict everyone’s gruesome demise. He teams up with Robert to uncover the truth: Damien is not just your average creepy kid - he’s the actual spawn of Satan! Which makes you rethink that time he bit the babysitter. Following a cross country trip around Europe to ancient churches, cryptic prophecies, dogs with bad attitudes, with a whole lot of Gregorian chanting, Robert decides the only way to stop Damien is with a sacred dagger set they no longer sell at Williams Sonoma. A harrowing tale of evil incarnate, spiritual warfare, and why it’s probably a good idea to ask a few follow-up questions before adopting random babies in Italy. In the end, the kid ends up in the White House. That’s not a spoiler, that’s a warning. So if your son is surrounded by mysterious deaths, flinches at churches, and has the number 666 on his scalp, he’s evil incarnate.

A story that reminds us what happens when you combine teenage angst, nautical sabotage, and an unhealthy amount of chili. It all started innocently enough when a young man named Hoops, who, ironically, can’t play basketball, heads to Nantucket to find inspiration for his cartoon, but instead finds love, rivalry, and a very aggressive mechanical dolphin. He is joined by a ragtag crew that includes a rock singer, a pair of pyromaniac twins, Bobcat Goldthwait trapped inside a Godzilla suit in what I can only assume was a court-mandated performance, and a villainous land developer who hates fun and possibly puppies. The gang must win a regatta to save the girl’s house because in the '80s, yacht racing was somehow a legal substitute for zoning laws. There are fireworks, love confessions, a 2.9-liter V8 engine with Bosch K-Jetronic fuel injection and Magneti Marelli Digiplex electronic ignition powered boat, and enough absurdity to make Gilligan’s Island look like a documentary.

Seizing on the success of Sea World, Orca is the touching story of a killer whale who becomes a widower after a fisherman harpoons his wife and unborn child. What follows isn’t just a marine mammal with a grudge; it’s a one-orca vendetta operation. Naturally, the whale swears revenge, which is a lot like a divorce settlement: long, drawn out, and it usually ends with someone losing their house. In this case, the house is literally burned down by a six-ton fish figured out arson faster than most people can order door dash.

The showdown comes when man and orca face off in icy waters, each determined to prove who was truly at the top of the food chain. The fisherman discovers that revenge isn’t just a dish best served cold - it’s also slippery and wet. In the end, the orca got justice, the man got frozen, and I got seasick just writing this. The whale wins, the fisherman loses, and an important lesson is learned: never harpoon anything that can outswim, outthink, and outmaneuver you - especially if it weighs more than your car.

It all starts as a standard World War II mission quickly turns into something you won’t find in your history textbooks… unless they’ve recently been updated by Stephen King. A squad of American paratroopers gets dropped behind enemy lines in France, and between the machine-gun fire and explosions, you’d think things couldn’t get any worse. Until then they stumble upon a Nazi science lab in a church basement - because apparently, Nazis didn’t just love goose-stepping and bad mustaches, they also loved dabbling in mad science.

Inside, the G.I.s find experiments that make Frankenstein look like a community college project: super-soldiers, half-dead men, and enough syringes to stock a Walgreens during Covid. One injection, and suddenly your average Nazi turns into a flesh-ripping, bone-snapping killing machine. So it becomes a choice: stop the Nazis, destroy the lab, and maybe win the war - or end up in a world where Hitler has an army of undead strongmen who can bench-press a tank. The soldiers, led by a private who’s way too decent for this kind of movie, attempt to blow it all sky-high. Overlord is the only film where you’ll see paratroopers, Nazis, zombies, and science experiments all in one place… until the new Smithsonian exhibits open this fall.

When a covert military operation  goes as well as a surprise birthday party for a possum, what could have been a weekend team building exercise in the jungle turns into a high-stakes intergalactic safari with no s’mores and a lot of dismemberment. The mission starts simple - a rescue op. Major Dutch leads a crack team of soldiers into the jungle. Their objective is clear - extract hostages, shoot things, and say cool one-liners, but somewhere between the heavy artillery and Carl Weathers’ biceps, a story old as time emerges with the real enemy: an invisible space tourist with dreadlocks and a fondness for Tom Savini’s work. This thing, the Predator, who came for sport, starts picking the team off one by one using advanced weaponry, stealth camouflage,  thermal vision that makes TSA scanners look polite, and a shoulder-mounted laser that makes most laser tag systems look like a Fisher-Price toy. As the team tries to confront the beast with everything from a mini-gun to a war cry with no luck, Dutch finally decides to ditch his military weapons to take on their pursuer the only way left: using Home Alone style booby traps. All told, it’s a heartwarming tale of man versus beast, survival, and the importance of not skipping arm day. And remember: if you hear clicking in the woods, it’s either a Predator… or an accountant trying to work a retractable pen. Either way, run.

This alien story takes us back before electricity, TikTok, or reasonably functioning indoor plumbing - that’s right, the 1700s. It begins with our heroine Ngru, a Comanche  tracker with more survival instincts than a raccoon at a Fourth of July barbecue and probably the only person in 1719 who could out-hunt a creature with shoulder-mounted lasers and a skull fetish. While this alien came to hunt, it didn’t count on running into someone who reads footprints like vending machine codes - with precision and occasional crumbs. As she studies the alien, she outsmarts it, and finally turned the tables using clever tactics, a muddy swamp, and some very well-timed head trauma. Will it all end with another stirring reminder that brains beat brawn? That tomahawks stop a laser wielding aliens? That nature will become balanced again?

After climate change causes an earthquake beneath the spring break town of Lake Victoria. Scientist Carl Goodman (Christopher Lloyd) discovers something is wrong- terribly wrong! The quake has opened that underwater cavern filled with starving piranhas who have had their natural food supply cut off hiding deep beneath the Earth's crust for two million years.

Two. Million. Years. Only surviving extinction by becoming cannibals. These are not modern piranha, they’re Pliocene piranha. … prehistoric death machines! Now, spring break has turned into a floating buffet, and these gastronomically curious creatures are ready to sample everything on the college cafeteria menu and expand their palates!

Cornelius (Roddy McDowall), a renowned archeologist, just wanted to study the past. But when the past comes crashing back to earth, his world is turned upside down, confirming his wildest theory - that the revelation that the Sacred Scrolls taught us, that apes have always ruled and man has always been primitive - is challenged when a man named Taylor (Charlton Heston)that can speak, think, and challenge, frightens everyone. Cornelius must now prove his excavations confirm a different story - tools… bones… toys… are remnants of another civilization. Human civilization. Will Cornelius help Taylor find his way to the Forbidden Zone and settle once and for all whether the Sacred Scrolls or science hold the secrets to the world’s past?

Pontypool is a movie about a deadly outbreak in a small Canadian town. But unlike most outbreaks, it isn’t caused by a virus, bacteria, or even expired poutine. No, this one spreads through words. The story follows a radio DJ and his team, trapped in his station as chaos erupts outside, discover that the English language itself has gone rotten. Not all of it, just the dangerous parts. Certain words start acting like viruses, infecting people’s minds until they turn violent. The outbreak spreads fast. Ordinary townsfolk suddenly go berserk when they hear the wrong word. Imagine if saying “syrup” or “hockey” turned you into a lunatic. To stop the infection, they discover they need to scramble language itself. Change what words mean, twist their definitions, confuse the virus until it has nothing to hold onto. The message is clear: language is powerful, Canada is scarier than it looks, and if someone starts repeating the same word over and over, don’t correct their grammar. To summarize: it’s a movie about zombies, but with verbs. And adverbs. Possibly dangling participles.

This film jumps around more than a caffeinated squirrel in a trampoline factory. One minute you’re watching Vincent (John Travolta) take his boss’s wife out for milkshakes and impromptu resuscitation, the next you’re in a basement watching a gimp and wondering where all your life choices went wrong. It’s the story of a hitman, a boxer, a briefcase, a foot massage, and several unfortunate misunderstandings involving bullets and upholstery, but I was on the edge of my seat like I accidentally sat on a loaded pistol. In the end, there's redemption, revenge, dancing, divine intervention, and Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) quoting the Bible with the intensity of a man who's just found out his church picnic was canceled. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll check your wallet… it will be gone.

Rebecca is a story about a young woman who marries a wealthy widower and moves into his creepy mansion, Manderley. Right away, she finds out the staff aren’t exactly thrilled to have her—especially the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, who’s still obsessed with the first wife, Rebecca.

Now, Rebecca isn’t around anymore—she’s dead, but you wouldn’t know it by the way everyone talks about her. Her perfume, her clothes, her handwriting—frankly, she’s more active as a memory than most people are alive. The new Mrs. de Winter starts doubting herself, until it’s revealed Rebecca wasn’t the perfect angel everyone thought, and her death wasn’t exactly an accident. There’s romance, suspense, and enough candlelit corridors to make you wonder why no one in that house ever heard of electricity. In the end, everyone gets a happy ending, except for the insurance company.

When young woman - medical student, surfer, and part-time existentialist goes to a secret beach in Mexico for closure on her trauma, she ends up paddling into the feeding grounds of a 25-foot aquatic death torpedo with trust issues. After catching a few waves, making emotional eye contact with a dolphin or two - bam! A great white shark with an attitude shows up, apparently, guarding a rotting whale carcass like it’s Fort Knox. Our nose blind heroine to rotting whale flesh seeks refuge on a rock, bleeding, sunburned, and talking to a wounded seagull named Steven. The local surfers? Shark snacks. The drunk guy on the beach? Shark hors d’oeuvre. It’s a seafood massacre with no cocktail sauce in sight. Will she find a way escape before the tide comes in? Or will she survive, get closure, and learn some valuable lessons about the ocean: always swim with a buddy, never trust a dead whale, and if your beach doesn’t have Wi-Fi, leave.

When an archery accident… And a drowning… And the beehive-in-a-bathroom stall maneuver… goes beyond run of the mill summer camp hijinks at Camp Arawak, the top suspects include: a disgruntled cook, a lifeguard with sideburns shaped like murder weapons, and puberty. One by one, campers and staff start dropping like flies in increasingly creative ways - including a curling iron-related incident that, frankly, defies explanation and several laws of physics. Camp can be a magical experience - full of bonding, boating, and occasionally discovering that your bunkmate is an emotionally unstable avenger with a penchant for theatrical endings. Will the counselors ignore the obvious quiet one? Or tempt fate and hold a talent show in the woods after dark?Description goes here

This is the story of a man who can leap tall buildings, stop bullets with his chest, and still somehow get into a situation where he loses a fistfight in a diner. Superman decides to give up his powers so he can be with Lois Lane - instead of the typical flowers and chocolates which would be less risky than becoming mortal in the middle of an alien invasion, as three escaped criminals from Krypton, who are dressed like they’re on their way to a disco revival, decide Earth would make a nice summer home. They’ve got the same powers as Superman, but with worse manners, so naturally they take over the White House and demand humanity kneel on command. Things look grim. Will Superman eventually gets his powers back and lure the villains to his Fortress of Solitude, where he cleverly uses a giant crystal machine to swap places and trick them into losing theirs? Probably. In the end, Superman goes back to saving the world and Metropolis still has the worst property insurance rates in America.

What we have here is not your ordinary trip to the morgue—though, to be fair, most morgues don’t come with a smooth-talking funeral director offering story time. Tales From the Hood is four cautionary tales, wrapped up in one coffin, and if you’re squeamish about blood, violence, or politicians getting what’s coming to them, you might want to stick to Sesame Street. First, a crooked cop learns that planting evidence and excessive force can come back to haunt you - literally. Then, a boy with crayons discovers monsters don’t just live under the bed; sometimes they sit at the dinner table. After that, a violent gangster gets sentenced to the worst rehabilitation program in history - though it does come with free electroshock treatments. And finally, a racist politician finds out that running against equality and civil rights is a dangerous platform… especially when hundreds of vengeful dolls are part of the electorate. In the end, the three thugs who came looking for drugs in the funeral home realize they’re not in for a deal - they’re in for judgment. And the funeral director? He’s not your friendly neighborhood undertaker - he’s running a much hotter business down below. Tales From the Hood is part horror, part social lesson, and part advertisement for why you should always treat people with decency. Also, why you should never accept a tour of a funeral home from a man who laughs that much at his own jokes.

Everything seemed normal - just until it didn’t… a group of teens entering the woods for rehabilitation; local drug dealers using steroids to boost their weed crop; and gooey cocoons popping up in the forest. But we learn quickly that troubled teens, enhanced pot farms, and Mother Nature start biting back when eight legged parasites get involved with drugs. If science has taught us anything it’s that ticks, ‘roid rage, and the munchies don’t mix, leading to giant mutant arachnids the size of meatloaf with anger issues. One of the teens, Tyler (Seth Green), discovers that giant ticks are no joke; they burrow under your skin, lay eggs in your spine, inhabit your body like an AirBNB and burst out of your body during dinner, ruining a perfectly good camping trip. Will the rest of the troubled teens panic? Or go through the ultimate team building weekend only coming out with  trauma, bite marks, and in one case, half a counselor - or possibly less (but we’re trying to stay positive and are rounding up)? Or will these teens come back rehabilitated enough to become productive members of society for Corporate America? Don’t do drugs kids.

This story takes place in the quaint little town called Tromaville, a place with charm, character, and an unusually high number of trucks driving around with open steel drums marked HAZARDOUS WASTE. When a mild-mannered janitor, Melvin, becomes a victim of bullies’ prank and swan dives into an open barrel of toxic waste, he becomes - The Toxic Avenger! A vigilante with the body of Hulk Hogan with a skin condition, a tutu, and a desire to clean up crime in town faster than a Roomba with a vendetta. Corrupt cops, psycho thugs, even the mayor are all taken down by this mop-wielding mutant with a heart of gold and the skin texture of reheated oatmeal. Come and see justice just the way it’s meant to be: messy, radioactive, and mopped floor to ceiling.

It all starts as a routine Wilson family vacation - rental house, sunscreen, and enough awkward silences to make a mime uncomfortable, until things take a turn for the horrifyingly symmetrical. When a family appears in their driveway with identical height, weight, faces, and fashion sense, but noticeably more stabby, a basic home invasion becomes an existential crisis, with choreography. As we all have at one point suspected, beneath the United States there’s a labyrinth full of our own doppelgängers, with less access to dental care, called the Tethered. When their leader, a woman with a voice like a haunted kazoo, is out for revenge after being swapped as a child, a tale as old as time begins to unfold - girl meets doppelgänger, doppelgänger ruins girl's life, girl comes back decades later with scissors. As chaos and metaphors ensue, it becomes clear this isn’t the kind of identity theft you can call your credit card company about…and a chilling reminder that the greatest threat to your family might be… your family.

Valley of the Dolls is about three women who come to New York City looking for success, and instead end up finding pills, booze, and more bad men than you’d meet at a precinct Christmas party. Anne becomes a model, Neely a Broadway star, and Jennifer… well, she mostly becomes a victim of every producer with a checkbook and a smirk. They all rise to fame, only to tumble down faster than a drunk off a fire escape. Neely gets hooked on ‘dolls’ - that’s what they call pills, not the kind you buy at a toy store - reds, greens, and blues. Anne loses herself in heartbreak. And Jennifer’s story is so bleak you’ll want to call a hotline by the end. Valley of the Dolls isn’t about glamour or success, it’s about how quickly the spotlight can burn you out faster than a blunt at a Cypress Hill concert. To put it simply: if you’re dreaming of Hollywood, bring sunglasses, a strong liver, and maybe a good lawyer. And remember - when they say it’s show business, the ‘business’ part usually means you’re going to get taken to the cleaners.

Have you tried restarting it? When the U.S. government starts managing their military strikes with an A.I. program named after a fast food hamburger, all hell breaks loose as a teenage kid (Matthew Broderick) on dial up is able to hack into the system. As the hacker continues to play what he believes is just a game of Global Thermonuclear War to impress a girl (Ally Sheedy), he nearly turns Colorado into a microwave burrito, generals begin shouting, scientists start pacing, and the vending machine stops working - making military morale lower than ever. Now the only way to stop the apocalypse is to teach the computer about tic-tac-toe, because nothing says “national security” like a game you outgrow in kindergarten. Will they get three in a row this time? Or just the end times?

It started, like most beaver-related incidents, with a truck spilling toxic chemicals into a river, which happens more than you think. Enter three college girls go to a cabin in the woods for what they thought would be a relaxing weekend of gossip, sunbathing, and bad relationship decisions. Instead, they got beavers… get your head out of the gutter -  radioactive ones. And not the kind you can trap with peanut butter and a two-by-four. These were bigger. Hairier. Hungrier. Like regular beavers, only they had glowing eyes and the work ethic of a chainsaw factory on double overtime. Pretty soon, the cabin was under siege. The girls fought back with shotguns, axes, and a level of upper-body strength I didn’t see coming. From there, we have college students, poor decision-making, and weaponized rodents. A nightmare of fur, teeth, and small wooden dams being built at an alarming pace. As these zombeavers attack - they chew through wood, doors, and boyfriends with equal enthusiasm. The infection spread quickly. If you were bitten, you didn’t just get rabies or splinters - you turned into a beaver-human hybrid. All of this is a reminder to keep our rivers clean, our cabins locked, and for heaven’s sake, avoid rodent-based horror weekends - and if you see a beaver with glowing eyes and a hunger for flesh… don’t try to pet it or learn why the hard way.

Local factory worker moonlighting as an aspiring word salad chef Jimmy Smith Jr., or B-Rabbit  (not to be confused with Bugs Bunny even though both wear gloves) fights poverty, self-doubt, and laundry upkeep in this rags to, well not riches, but something more than rags tale. Battling more than MCs by day, he navigates his dead end job, cheating girlfriend, mom dating a guy he went to high school with, Molotov cocktails - Detroit stuff. But who B-Rabbit freezes during his first big rap battle, which in this business is worse than not filing your TPS reports at Initech.  He has seven days to come up with a lyrical plan to retort his rhythmical rhyming foes before he loses himself. And if you're heading into a rap battle, bring confidence, some self deprecating word vomit, maybe an extra clean hoodie, and eat a light dinner.

Problems start piling up like trash during a sanitation strike in Gotham City when a new serial killer leaves clues and more duct tape than a MacGyver episode. To clean up the city streets, a masked detective, who whispers a lot and stares dramatically, teams up with a woman who steals cats, a cop with one good eyebrow, and a butler who looks like he’s really had enough. Will Gotham survive its most recent coordinated attack from a man in green saran wrap who leaves more riddles than a crossword puzzle and keeps confusing the living hell out of everyone as even crime lords begin getting nervous? The city waits to see if this mod squad group of misfits can crack the case using their frowns, fists, and interpretive mood lighting.

When outsiders from the town of Bright Hope trespass on native’s sacred land, disturbing the balance of their culture, and taking the life of one of their own, the local canibals tribe is forced to retaliate by capturing citizens and the wife of a local rancher (Lili Simmons). Declaring the natives monsters, Sherif Hunt (Kurt Russell) rounds up a posse to pursue a mission to rescue their taken residents but are over come by the native population as they use the local town’s folks flesh to sustain their tribe and their bones as tools and weapons used against them. In a battle of survival the tribe attempts to find a way back to living peacefully, in their remote caves, in the silence, in their old ways.

As the golden boy of Olympus, and ultimate nepo baby, Perseus (Harry Hamlin) coasts through life on his divine connections until fate rudely intervenes. As the privileged son of Zeus (Laurence Olivier), he’s handed a grand destiny—but when the jealous gods throw a tantrum and doom his mortal home, he’s forced to actually do something about it. Armed with celestial handouts like a magic sword, a shield that literally shows him the answers, and even a robotic owl (because why struggle when Dad can just rig the game?), Perseus embarks on a quest to slay the monstrous Kraken. In the end, he proves that even a well-connected demigod still has to show up when the chips are down—especially if he wants to keep the family name as legendary.

It all started with a routine mission to a distant planet… a robot offers someone a martini, a scientist has the brain of a supercomputer, and someone’s subconscious starts vaporizing people - space stuff. But as things progressed the crew of starship C-57D who landed on Altair IV, expecting a few fossils and maybe a nice tan, instead finds Dr. Morbius (Walter Pidgeon) - part-time linguist, full-time Krell groupie - and his daughter Alta (Anne Francis), who was allergic to pants and personal boundaries. The crew soon discovers this Dr. has accessed  ancient alien tech so advanced, it makes microwave popcorn seem like witchcraft. And that’s when things start to go wrong. Badly. As people begin to disappear, lasers fly. Meanwhile, the crew tries not to trip over Robby the Robot, who makes a mean Manhattan but can’t catch the Dr.

In the end, will they learn two most important things about space travel?

1. Never trust a man who calls himself “the sole survivor.”

2. The scariest monsters are either the ones in your head or pants - especially if your head has a degree in philology and unresolved daddy issues - and his daughter doesn’t wear pants.

This is the story of three men: one with a cigar, one with a mustache, and one with a poncho. The “Good”, Blondie (Clint Eastwood ), has the looks of a hero but the moral flexibility of a used car salesman. The “Bad”, Angel Eyes (Lee Van Cleef), makes dishonesty an art form. And the “Ugly”, Tuco (Eli Wallach) - well, let’s just say he has more lives than a cat and worse hygiene than a municipal zoo on chili dog night. All three embark on a treasure hunt during the Civil War chasing after $200,000 in Confederate gold like it’s half-off meatloaf night at the Cracker Barrel, but instead of using a map, they prefer dramatic standoffs, unnecessary close-ups, and an absolute refusal to speak above a whisper. Along the way, they shoot things, glare dramatically with enough squinting to make someone invent contact lenses, and forget to share directions… and somehow, no one ever runs out of bullets or ponchos. In the end, there’s a Mexican standoff, a missing grave, and bullets exchanged, with none of them intending to pay taxes on the gold.

Not in this for thrills but because the best at what we do Neil (Robert De Niro), Chris (Val Kilmer), and Nate (John Voight) run clean, precise, and disciplined outside the boundaries of society with their simple code -. No attachments. No heat.

Their new job, that will set them up for good is the big one—a downtown L.A. bank will be their last before retirement until detective Vincent (Robert De Niro), starts breathing down their necks. This sharp, relentless investigator, lives for the chase. Doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t stop.

With Johnny Law breathing down their necks the group of tight private financier colleagues realize they are being pulled back by their vices: women, money, habits, revenge.

Will the gang’s retirement plan succeed before Vincent catch up to them? Or will they need to walk away from everything—in thirty seconds flat and get day jobs?

This story takes place in the House of Flying Daggers, not to be confused with the House of Representatives, though similar in that both involve flying objects, questionable loyalties, elaborate costumes, an undercover agent who falls in love, another cop who also falls in love, and a rebel group with more costume changes than a Madonna concert at Madison Square Garden. At the center of it all is a blind dancer named Mei who performs with the precision of a Swiss watch and the lethality of a ninja-infused sewing machine. Next thing you know, everyone’s flipping through the air and fighting in a bamboo forest that has more spring than a rented bouncy house at an eight year old’s birthday party. By the time we reach the snowy final act, three people are bleeding, crying, dying, and still managing to deliver dialogue like a Shakespearean tragedy on ice. The love triangle: isosceles; the martial arts: physics-defying; the political rebellion: like Edward Scissorhands joined Cirque de Soleil.

The Soviet Union is shocked when one of their submarine captains with a Scottish accent runs off with their newest nuclear sub. Not thinking things through, Marko Ramius (Sean Connery) has had it with communism and lousy food in Russia and decides to defect to the United States without telling anyone his plan. With a rogue stealth nuclear submarine in the water, the U.S. government goes on a high alert and only a nerdy librarian with a gun, Jack Ryan (Alec Baldwin), can figure it all out! With torpedoes, betrayals, fake cookouts, and so many sonar pings than dolphins start to complain, Jack must convince the powers that be that this is not the start of WWIII, but is simply that Marko has chosen his wedding anniversary to his late wife as a good time to defect to the United States. Will he convince them in time? Will courage, diplomacy, and a complete disregard for standard protocol resolve the situation? Or will the world go up in a mushroom cloud of smoke? But one thing’s for sure - always read dust covers of foreign biographies and keep your periscopes clean.

As the frontier nears collapse and bring an end to the galactic war, Lord Kril (Dan Mason), commander of the Ko-Dan Armada, stands on the brink of total victory. The fractured and weak Star League with its defenses outdated look to be defeated when Centauri (Robert Preston) gains Atari like technology. As Centauri executes his experiment in recruitment, from the backwater primitive planet Earth a boy named Alex Rogan (Lance Guest), plucked from his trailer park obscurity as a "Starfighter" to outwitted the Ko-Dan Armada after completing his 8 bit drone training program. As the traitorous Xur (Norman Snow) feeds intel to Kril, his armada poised to strike and end the war. Will this "Starfighter" outwitted the armada and destroy their forces because he got his initials on a arcade game and no actual training? Or will the galactic wars finally come to en end?

When a kidnapped orphan child, Laura (Dafne Keen), suddenly enters the life of her alcoholic father, Logan (Hugh Jackman), it completely upends his barely-functioning assisted living setup with his equally crumbling companion. Now just scraping by, with almost enough money saved up to realize his dreams of retirement, Logan and his geriatric sidekick Charles (Patrick Stewart) finds himself reluctantly road-tripping to Canada to reunite Laura with her teenage friends. But hot on their heels are the ruthless operatives who want Laura back who and will stop at nothing. As they make their way north across the US, ruining  everyone’s lives they come in contact with and they leave chaos in their wake, Logan realizes Laura just might be the one thing he didn’t know he’s been missing all his life.

It all seemed like a utopian society where no one grows old because they murder you at thirty. This brave new world is filled with all the futuristic amenities for people who live in a big plastic dome filled with shopping malls, holograms, and jump suits so tight it feels like a flash mob pilates class might break out any minute. But isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. When the citizens of the dome city mall reach their thirtieth birthday - it’s no party. They’re sent to a ceremony called “Carousel” which promises “renewal” but mostly involves getting zapped to dust while floating. Logan 5 (Michael York) is a professional Sandman who is tasked with hunting down those who don’t attend their birthday party to be exploded. When he meets a woman (Jenny Agutter) who’s dressed like she works at a 70s themed disco yogurt bar he starts asking questions like “What if being thirty isn’t a death sentence?” and “Why is everyone dressed like this?” And decides to escape the city. Outside the city he discovers a whole new world called “outside.” A place that has dirt, no food courts and an old man with cats on his head that he didn’t think could exist. Will Logan see his thirty-first birthday and bring the outside in? Or bring glamping back in the year 2274?

When a covert military operation  goes as well as a surprise birthday party for a possum, what could have been a weekend team building exercise in the jungle turns into a high-stakes intergalactic safari with no s’mores and a lot of dismemberment. The mission starts simple - a rescue op. Major Dutch leads a crack team of soldiers into the jungle. Their objective is clear - extract hostages, shoot things, and say cool one-liners, but somewhere between the heavy artillery and Carl Weathers’ biceps, a story old as time emerges with the real enemy: an invisible space tourist with dreadlocks and a fondness for Tom Savini’s work. This thing, the Predator, who came for sport, starts picking the team off one by one using advanced weaponry, stealth camouflage,  thermal vision that makes TSA scanners look polite, and a shoulder-mounted laser that makes most laser tag systems look like a Fisher-Price toy. As the team tries to confront the beast with everything from a mini-gun to a war cry with no luck, Dutch finally decides to ditch his military weapons to take on their pursuer the only way left: using Home Alone style booby traps. All told, it’s a heartwarming tale of man versus beast, survival, and the importance of not skipping arm day. And remember: if you hear clicking in the woods, it’s either a Predator… or an accountant trying to work a retractable pen. Either way, run.

This alien story takes us back before electricity, TikTok, or reasonably functioning indoor plumbing - that’s right, the 1700s. It begins with our heroine Ngru, a Comanche  tracker with more survival instincts than a raccoon at a Fourth of July barbecue and probably the only person in 1719 who could out-hunt a creature with shoulder-mounted lasers and a skull fetish. While this alien came to hunt, it didn’t count on running into someone who reads footprints like vending machine codes - with precision and occasional crumbs. As she studies the alien, she outsmarts it, and finally turned the tables using clever tactics, a muddy swamp, and some very well-timed head trauma. Will it all end with another stirring reminder that brains beat brawn? That tomahawks stop a laser wielding aliens? That nature will become balanced again?

Cornelius (Roddy McDowall), a renowned archeologist, just wanted to study the past. But when the past comes crashing back to earth, his world is turned upside down, confirming his wildest theory - that the revelation that the Sacred Scrolls taught us, that apes have always ruled and man has always been primitive - is challenged when a man named Taylor (Charlton Heston)that can speak, think, and challenge, frightens everyone. Cornelius must now prove his excavations confirm a different story - tools… bones… toys… are remnants of another civilization. Human civilization. Will Cornelius help Taylor find his way to the Forbidden Zone and settle once and for all whether the Sacred Scrolls or science hold the secrets to the world’s past?

It’s the story of a man (Ryan Reynolds)… who discovers he’s not a man… but a guy… a guy who’s named Guy… a guy who’s a video game character… which explains why he never blinks. As lives his “life” in a city where explosions happen hourly and nobody questions why a man in a pink bunny suit is parachuting into traffic, he puts on a pair of sunglasses and suddenly sees the world for what it is: a video game full of glitches, weapons, and people teabagging each other for no reason. When he meets a mysterious woman (Jodie Comer) in leather, he finds out his whole life is code, and decides to become a hero—without cheat codes. Meanwhile, the evil tech CEO (Taika Waititi) wants to shut the whole thing down faster than a busted vending machine at Gamescom. Will Guy prove you don’t need to be real to make a difference? Or that you just need heart, courage, and an unlimited respawn counter?

When his partner is eaten to death by a shark that isn’t even considered real, ever-fading legend in the twilight of his credibility oceanographer Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) makes it his mission to capture the elusive perpetrator on film and prove its existence. Steve wagers what remains of his reputation on his mythical  “Jaguar Shark”: not so much an expedition as it is a slow-motion shipwreck; a budget-less revenge tour aboard a rusting death trap with his motley crew, manned by unpaid interns, a heavily armed German, and a dolphin crew that never follows basic commands. Steve brings along a boy who may or may not be his son - he isn’t sure - and a journalist who slowly realizes she is embedded in a personal breakdown. While Steve attempts to realize his dream and outmaneuver pirates, unpaid debts, his ex-wife and longtime nemesis Captain Alistair Hennessey (Jeff Goldblum), we wonder if his expedition will succeed, or if it’s just another fish story.

Ack! Ack! In the middle of Tom Jones’ (Tom Jones) Las Vegas residency - sold-out shows, backup dancers, the works - flying saucers arrive and steal his thunder. As the gullible humans believe the martians came in peace, turns out, their idea of peace involves turning people into skeletons, leaving the singer to playing to empty concert halls…But the show must go on! In an attempt to fulfill his contractually obligated concerts the singer takes matters into his own hands to save the earth and his career. In the end, will it be firepower or music that saves the day?

A story that reminds us what happens when you combine teenage angst, nautical sabotage, and an unhealthy amount of chili. It all started innocently enough when a young man named Hoops, who, ironically, can’t play basketball, heads to Nantucket to find inspiration for his cartoon, but instead finds love, rivalry, and a very aggressive mechanical dolphin. He is joined by a ragtag crew that includes a rock singer, a pair of pyromaniac twins, Bobcat Goldthwait trapped inside a Godzilla suit in what I can only assume was a court-mandated performance, and a villainous land developer who hates fun and possibly puppies. The gang must win a regatta to save the girl’s house because in the '80s, yacht racing was somehow a legal substitute for zoning laws. There are fireworks, love confessions, a 2.9-liter V8 engine with Bosch K-Jetronic fuel injection and Magneti Marelli Digiplex electronic ignition powered boat, and enough absurdity to make Gilligan’s Island look like a documentary.

Donnie seems like your average teenager - going to high school, riding his bike, making new friends. But when his newest friend, Frank, is imaginary and a six foot bunny with a metal mask that talks, his world is turned upside down as he learns that he’s possibly a conduit for inter-dimensional collapse. This is no Easter Bunny handing out candy, but rather apocalyptic messages in riddles about wormholes and doom, without a jellybean in sight. When Frank tells Donnie that the world will end in 28 days, Donnie responds the way any teenager would: he floods the school, burns down a motivational speaker’s house, and yells at Patrick Swayze. Meanwhile, time loops, parallel universes, and existential dread are all happening simultaneously - like attending your high school reunion after eating a bag of mushrooms. Will Donnie sacrifice himself to reset the timeline? Save his girlfriend? And possibly preserve the space-time continuum? Or will he just chalk it up to a really off week?

We begin with Bob Harris (Bill Murray), an aging American movie star whose face is more tired than a news anchor on election night, who’s in Tokyo to shoot whiskey commercials, which is ironic because that’s what you need to understand what he’s feeling. Bob's got a wife back home who sends him faxes about shelves. Think James Bond, but with more sighing and less espionage. Enter Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson): a young woman married to a photographer who takes more pictures of rock bands than of his own wife. She’s smart, introspective, and bored enough to make talking to Bill Murray seem like a thrilling night out. Together, Bob and Charlotte wander through Tokyo like two confused tourists with more soft lighting, awkward silences, and a growing sense that they should probably be doing something more meaningful than a philosophical perfume commercial. As they bond over sushi, jet lag, and awkward silences so long they qualify as commercial breaks, they roam the city, sing karaoke, and sit quietly in hotel bars - like a buddy cop movie where neither buddy fires a gun or knows exactly why they’re even in the movie. There’s no big romance, no explosions, and no evil henchmen - leaving you wondering if I’d just witnessed a love story, a midlife crisis, or an unusually expensive travel brochure.

After getting a job in the mill out of charity, oddball chemist Sidney Stratton (Sir Alec Guinness) uses the company’s equipment to create a suit that never stains, never tears, and never wears out. The company quickly realizes that their main product can no longer rely on obsoletism to sustain their business - no one will ever need another suit again. Ever! No repeat customers. No turnover. No textile industry. In an effort to protect the company workers, the employee union bands together with management to shut down this rogue scientist. It’s only a matter of time before word gets out about his invention - will they be able to save the economy before it’s too late?

Sam (Sam Rockwell) is a regular space working guy contracted for Lunar Industries and trying to wrap up a three-year solo stint harvesting helium-3 on the moon. But when his rover crashes, he wakes up to find out he isn’t alone on Sarang Station - he’s already there! Sam learns that he has been part of a fully authorized, perfectly humane, participant in the Contractual Lunar Duplication Initiative, which has been duplicating a man repeatedly to avoid paying union wages.  With only a cloned workforce, memory tampering, and artificially intelligent robots with suspiciously soothing serial killer voices... he’s unable to successfully navigate the company’s HR department and is forced to make his way back to Earth to file a formal complaint. Will he make it back before the office closes at 5? And next time he enters into a contract with SleepTech Bioresearch - will he read the fine print? And will GERTY (Kevin Spacey), the station’s AI, who did not violate any Asimovian protocols, be promoted to Regional Manager of Ethics and Office Morale?

This story begins with two drifters - one prone to narcolepsy, the other prone to making Shakespeare sound like a parking ticket. They wandered from the potato fields of Idaho to the streets of Portland, then all the way to Italy, in search of love, family, and directions back to the bus station. Along the way there were hustlers, broken hearts, and more campfires than the fire marshal would allow. In the end, it’s a touching tale about friendship, loneliness, and the dangers of napping in traffic.

Cornelius (Roddy McDowall), a renowned archeologist, just wanted to study the past. But when the past comes crashing back to earth, his world is turned upside down, confirming his wildest theory - that the revelation that the Sacred Scrolls taught us, that apes have always ruled and man has always been primitive - is challenged when a man named Taylor (Charlton Heston)that can speak, think, and challenge, frightens everyone. Cornelius must now prove his excavations confirm a different story - tools… bones… toys… are remnants of another civilization. Human civilization. Will Cornelius help Taylor find his way to the Forbidden Zone and settle once and for all whether the Sacred Scrolls or science hold the secrets to the world’s past?

Have you tried restarting it? When the U.S. government starts managing their military strikes with an A.I. program named after a fast food hamburger, all hell breaks loose as a teenage kid (Matthew Broderick) on dial up is able to hack into the system. As the hacker continues to play what he believes is just a game of Global Thermonuclear War to impress a girl (Ally Sheedy), he nearly turns Colorado into a microwave burrito, generals begin shouting, scientists start pacing, and the vending machine stops working - making military morale lower than ever. Now the only way to stop the apocalypse is to teach the computer about tic-tac-toe, because nothing says “national security” like a game you outgrow in kindergarten. Will they get three in a row this time? Or just the end times?

This film jumps around more than a caffeinated squirrel in a trampoline factory. One minute you’re watching Vincent (John Travolta) take his boss’s wife out for milkshakes and impromptu resuscitation, the next you’re in a basement watching a gimp and wondering where all your life choices went wrong. It’s the story of a hitman, a boxer, a briefcase, a foot massage, and several unfortunate misunderstandings involving bullets and upholstery, but I was on the edge of my seat like I accidentally sat on a loaded pistol. In the end, there's redemption, revenge, dancing, divine intervention, and Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) quoting the Bible with the intensity of a man who's just found out his church picnic was canceled. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll check your wallet… it will be gone.

In what could have been the ultimate publicity stunt for skin care, a quiet Maryland seaside town’s annual celebration is turned upside down as people burst into pustules like it’s a clearance sale at the contagion outlet. As mutated aquatic bugs with the personality of a lawnmower decide to crash the party, thanks to some radioactive chicken poop and light municipal negligence (you know, small town stuff), these little monsters sneak in through the water supply. As the mayor insists everything is fine, his electorate can’t seem to stop vomiting, panicking, and developing boils the size of meatballs. The uninfected realize there’s only one thing left for them to do: try to record the outbreak on every digital device available, which is now standard emergency protocol. Will these amateur YouTubers get their message out to the public? Will they survive to see another day? And most importantly, will they need to cancel the parade?

When outsiders from the town of Bright Hope trespass on native’s sacred land, disturbing the balance of their culture, and taking the life of one of their own, the local canibals tribe is forced to retaliate by capturing citizens and the wife of a local rancher (Lili Simmons). Declaring the natives monsters, Sherif Hunt (Kurt Russell) rounds up a posse to pursue a mission to rescue their taken residents but are over come by the native population as they use the local town’s folks flesh to sustain their tribe and their bones as tools and weapons used against them. In a battle of survival the tribe attempts to find a way back to living peacefully, in their remote caves, in the silence, in their old ways.

When a horny fish man finds a sexy primate woman (Julie Adams) swimming in his lagoon he will stop at nothing trying to woo her into staying. As two jealous scientists, Dr. David Reed (Richard Carlson) and Dr. Mark Williams (Richard Denning), seem willing to do anything to stop the romance and capture the beast with their zany schemes for their own glory, the fish man has other ideas in mind. Will the scientists get their glory? Or will love at first sight persevere for the two star-crossed lovers?

It all starts with a rare monkey-rat creature from Sumatra. You know, the kind of thing you’d normally see in a zoo, or maybe working out of a Taco Bell at midnight in Times Square. Anyway, this thing bites a woman named Vera, who just happens to be the world’s nosiest mother. Instead of calling her doctor, she calls it a scratch and keeps hosting tea parties. That’s when the problem begins: she dies, comes back, and suddenly dinner parties start looking like an all-you-can-eat buffet… where you are the buffet.

From there things begin to get weird, the whole neighborhood starts turning into zombies faster than a movie with furious car chases. Lionel, the son, is running around with more undead relatives than a Romeo family reunion. You’ve got priests doing kung fu on the undead, babies crawling out of soup bowls, and a lawnmower being used as a weapon of mass sanitation. 

In the end, Lionel - the guy stuck in the middle of all this - finally stands up to his overbearing mother, who by this point has turned into a building-sized monster with arms big enough to slap a city bus  literally tries to swallow him back into the womb. He cuts her down to size, literally, and cleans up the mess with more mop work than the New York subway system on New Year’s Day. Trust me, it’s not as fun as it sounds. In the end, he kills her, wins the girl, and survives the world’s bloodiest mop job. Moral of the story? Don’t adopt mysterious rats from Skull Island, don’t ignore your overbearing mother and always keep some gardening equipment handy.

It started in a small coastal town called Antonio Bay, a place so quiet that the loudest sound was the church bell - and the occasional suspiciously timed car alarm. You know, the American dream: white picket fences, a general store, and a dark curse that rises once a century in the form of glowing fog. It’s the kind of thing that doesn’t look good on a postcard. On the eve of their centennial celebration, the town discovered its founding fathers weren’t exactly candidates for sainthood. Turns out they built the place with ill-gotten gold after sinking a ship full of lepers, though I’d have recommend a bake sale. That’s when the fog rolled in and so did the problems. Not the normal kind that delays flights or ruins a good golf game, but the glowing, supernatural kind that comes with sharp-dressed ghosts carrying fishing hooks. Radios begin going haywire, fishing boats get turned into seafood platters, and a priest suddenly realizes the town’s history isn’t exactly suitable for Sunday school. Meanwhile, residents are getting picked off one by one by ghostly sailors carrying hooks - you know you’ve got trouble when even the weather report comes with a body count.

In the end, the townsfolk try to return the stolen gold, hoping the angry spirits will take it and sail off into the mist but the ghosts weren’t exactly in the mood for refunds. It’s kind of like returning a toaster after you’ve already used it for ten years. There were screams, shadows in the mist, and one very dramatic beheading. As the fog rolled back out to sea, the town breathed a sigh of relief - too soon, as it turns out. Because when the mist comes back, so do the ghosts, but not before making it perfectly clear: in Antonio Bay, the forecast is murder, with a chance of headless corpses.

When a man (Muse Watson) out on a summer night’s stroll is hit by four overprivileged brats (Jennifer Love Hewitt, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ryan Phillippe, Freddie Prinze Jr.) with their car and decide to drown him instead of taking him to the hospital, he decides to take a year to recuperate and hatch his plan for revenge. But as the tide always comes back in, this summer…he’s reeling them in, one by one. As the attempted murderers return from college to attend pageants, parties, and pretending their consciences are clean, this fisherman starts working outside the law for justice. As our attractive and suspiciously well-groomed criminals find themselves being stalked by a raincoat-wearing lunatic with a hook for a hand and a serious grudge - he puts his plan into action! Will they survive? Will they stop making terrible decisions? And most importantly… will anyone ever figure out what, exactly, they did last summer?

Mayor Vaughn (Murray Hamilton) is trying to protect his town of Amity, a summer tourist town where beaches support the economy. Hot shot New York City cop Chief Brody (Roy Scheider), shows up and starts shouting "shark!" when a girl turns up dead. To save his constituents and without any real proof, Vaughn decides to not shut everything down based on a hunch.

But hindsight’s 20/20 and more attacks happen. As the desperate Mayor brings in experts from the Oceanography Institute, Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), sends out fishermen. When all they come back with a sunken boat, a chewed-up story, and the wrong shark, the Chief pressures him into hiring an old sea kook Quint (Robert Shaw) to kill the shark. If the Mayor can keep the money flowing, and stop the panic he might still be able to save August tourism and get re-elected.

After being successfully re-elected following the events of summer 1975, Mayor Vaughn now needs to protect the real estate investors that supported his re-election campaign by downplaying more shark attacks. Once again Chief Brody is up to his old tricks, yelling “shark!” all over the island and shooting up the beaches. As this new menace looks to really stick it to the Chief, it decides to follow the makeshift regatta his sons are in with their horny teenage friends. Will the shark get them before they “get some”? Will Chief Brody be eating fish for dinner all week? and will we finally learn the answer of helicopter vs. shark? The answers just may surprise you.

When city people lose their minds the second they see a big lizard with teeth, Mrs. Delores Bickerman (Betty White) needs to protect her wildlife friend from the outsiders. After a sarcastic guy, a lady from the museum who thinks she knows everything, and a nice sheriff start blowing up half the lake trying to catch the animal and getting half of Maine’s wildlife division involved - they realize this “friend” is a giant crocodile! Will these idiots they brought in be able to sedate and capture the beast? Or will Mrs. Bickerman be stuck with an emptiness in her heart she hasn’t felt since she fed her husband to the amphibious reptile? ("he was getting on my nerves anyway")

It all started with a storm in Maine. That’s Maine, the state, not ‘main’ as in central or important. Although, I suppose the storm was both. After the violent storm, a mysterious mist rolled in—thick enough to hide a marching band, loud enough to silence the local weatherman. Citizens gathered in the supermarket, which was normally a safe haven for discount paper towels, but quickly became ground zero for hysteria, tentacle attacks, and one very disturbing incident involving a can of peas.

The mist concealed creatures of unknown origin. Some had claws, others had wings, and at least one looked suspiciously like my mother-in-law after a bad perm. As panic spread, the townspeople split into factions: the practical, the panicked, and the prophet. The prophet insisted the mist was divine punishment, though I personally thought it was more likely a plumbing issue. Regardless, people began disappearing faster than coupons on double-discount Tuesday. And while out in the parking lot there are monsters with more legs than a tap-dancing centipede, inside there are customers who think ‘aisle three’ is a great place to start a new religion.

In the end, our hero escapes with his son and a few survivors, only to face a twist so cruel it makes forgetting your coupon book at home look like a blessing. Unfortunately, his plan ended in tragedy, misunderstanding, and very poor timing. Moments after making a decision more final than a tax audit, the U.S. military arrived to clean things up. If there’s a moral, it’s this: never give up too soon, never trust a supermarket crowd, and above all, never shop during a fog advisory.

It’s a PSA for adoption, political ambition, parental anxiety, and, not surprisingly, the Antichrist. It begins with diplomat Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck), who, while stationed in Rome, swaps his stillborn baby with a mysterious orphan handed to him in the shadows of an Italian hospital. Nothing suspicious about that - unless you've read a Bible, a horror novel, or watched daytime television. Everything seems fine until little Damien (Harvey Stephens) turns five, develops a fear of churches, and an affinity for staring ominously into the distance. As the body count begins to pile up - a nanny commits the ultimate party foul, a priest who tries to warn the Thorns but gets shish-kebabed by a flying lightning rod, things start to become clear…Coincidence? Maybe. Suspicious? Definitely. Paranormal? Absolutely. Enter a photographer who notices mysterious shadows in his pictures that just so happen to predict everyone’s gruesome demise. He teams up with Robert to uncover the truth: Damien is not just your average creepy kid - he’s the actual spawn of Satan! Which makes you rethink that time he bit the babysitter. Following a cross country trip around Europe to ancient churches, cryptic prophecies, dogs with bad attitudes, with a whole lot of Gregorian chanting, Robert decides the only way to stop Damien is with a sacred dagger set they no longer sell at Williams Sonoma. A harrowing tale of evil incarnate, spiritual warfare, and why it’s probably a good idea to ask a few follow-up questions before adopting random babies in Italy. In the end, the kid ends up in the White House. That’s not a spoiler, that’s a warning. So if your son is surrounded by mysterious deaths, flinches at churches, and has the number 666 on his scalp, he’s evil incarnate.

Seizing on the success of Sea World, Orca is the touching story of a killer whale who becomes a widower after a fisherman harpoons his wife and unborn child. What follows isn’t just a marine mammal with a grudge; it’s a one-orca vendetta operation. Naturally, the whale swears revenge, which is a lot like a divorce settlement: long, drawn out, and it usually ends with someone losing their house. In this case, the house is literally burned down by a six-ton fish figured out arson faster than most people can order door dash.

The showdown comes when man and orca face off in icy waters, each determined to prove who was truly at the top of the food chain. The fisherman discovers that revenge isn’t just a dish best served cold - it’s also slippery and wet. In the end, the orca got justice, the man got frozen, and I got seasick just writing this. The whale wins, the fisherman loses, and an important lesson is learned: never harpoon anything that can outswim, outthink, and outmaneuver you - especially if it weighs more than your car.

When a covert military operation  goes as well as a surprise birthday party for a possum, what could have been a weekend team building exercise in the jungle turns into a high-stakes intergalactic safari with no s’mores and a lot of dismemberment. The mission starts simple - a rescue op. Major Dutch leads a crack team of soldiers into the jungle. Their objective is clear - extract hostages, shoot things, and say cool one-liners, but somewhere between the heavy artillery and Carl Weathers’ biceps, a story old as time emerges with the real enemy: an invisible space tourist with dreadlocks and a fondness for Tom Savini’s work. This thing, the Predator, who came for sport, starts picking the team off one by one using advanced weaponry, stealth camouflage,  thermal vision that makes TSA scanners look polite, and a shoulder-mounted laser that makes most laser tag systems look like a Fisher-Price toy. As the team tries to confront the beast with everything from a mini-gun to a war cry with no luck, Dutch finally decides to ditch his military weapons to take on their pursuer the only way left: using Home Alone style booby traps. All told, it’s a heartwarming tale of man versus beast, survival, and the importance of not skipping arm day. And remember: if you hear clicking in the woods, it’s either a Predator… or an accountant trying to work a retractable pen. Either way, run.

This alien story takes us back before electricity, TikTok, or reasonably functioning indoor plumbing - that’s right, the 1700s. It begins with our heroine Ngru, a Comanche  tracker with more survival instincts than a raccoon at a Fourth of July barbecue and probably the only person in 1719 who could out-hunt a creature with shoulder-mounted lasers and a skull fetish. While this alien came to hunt, it didn’t count on running into someone who reads footprints like vending machine codes - with precision and occasional crumbs. As she studies the alien, she outsmarts it, and finally turned the tables using clever tactics, a muddy swamp, and some very well-timed head trauma. Will it all end with another stirring reminder that brains beat brawn? That tomahawks stop a laser wielding aliens? That nature will become balanced again?

After climate change causes an earthquake beneath the spring break town of Lake Victoria. Scientist Carl Goodman (Christopher Lloyd) discovers something is wrong- terribly wrong! The quake has opened that underwater cavern filled with starving piranhas who have had their natural food supply cut off hiding deep beneath the Earth's crust for two million years.

Two. Million. Years. Only surviving extinction by becoming cannibals. These are not modern piranha, they’re Pliocene piranha. … prehistoric death machines! Now, spring break has turned into a floating buffet, and these gastronomically curious creatures are ready to sample everything on the college cafeteria menu and expand their palates!

When young woman - medical student, surfer, and part-time existentialist goes to a secret beach in Mexico for closure on her trauma, she ends up paddling into the feeding grounds of a 25-foot aquatic death torpedo with trust issues. After catching a few waves, making emotional eye contact with a dolphin or two - bam! A great white shark with an attitude shows up, apparently, guarding a rotting whale carcass like it’s Fort Knox. Our nose blind heroine to rotting whale flesh seeks refuge on a rock, bleeding, sunburned, and talking to a wounded seagull named Steven. The local surfers? Shark snacks. The drunk guy on the beach? Shark hors d’oeuvre. It’s a seafood massacre with no cocktail sauce in sight. Will she find a way escape before the tide comes in? Or will she survive, get closure, and learn some valuable lessons about the ocean: always swim with a buddy, never trust a dead whale, and if your beach doesn’t have Wi-Fi, leave.

When an archery accident… And a drowning… And the beehive-in-a-bathroom stall maneuver… goes beyond run of the mill summer camp hijinks at Camp Arawak, the top suspects include: a disgruntled cook, a lifeguard with sideburns shaped like murder weapons, and puberty. One by one, campers and staff start dropping like flies in increasingly creative ways - including a curling iron-related incident that, frankly, defies explanation and several laws of physics. Camp can be a magical experience - full of bonding, boating, and occasionally discovering that your bunkmate is an emotionally unstable avenger with a penchant for theatrical endings. Will the counselors ignore the obvious quiet one? Or tempt fate and hold a talent show in the woods after dark?Description goes here

Everything seemed normal - just until it didn’t… a group of teens entering the woods for rehabilitation; local drug dealers using steroids to boost their weed crop; and gooey cocoons popping up in the forest. But we learn quickly that troubled teens, enhanced pot farms, and Mother Nature start biting back when eight legged parasites get involved with drugs. If science has taught us anything it’s that ticks, ‘roid rage, and the munchies don’t mix, leading to giant mutant arachnids the size of meatloaf with anger issues. One of the teens, Tyler (Seth Green), discovers that giant ticks are no joke; they burrow under your skin, lay eggs in your spine, inhabit your body like an AirBNB and burst out of your body during dinner, ruining a perfectly good camping trip. Will the rest of the troubled teens panic? Or go through the ultimate team building weekend only coming out with  trauma, bite marks, and in one case, half a counselor - or possibly less (but we’re trying to stay positive and are rounding up)? Or will these teens come back rehabilitated enough to become productive members of society for Corporate America? Don’t do drugs kids.

This story takes place in the quaint little town called Tromaville, a place with charm, character, and an unusually high number of trucks driving around with open steel drums marked HAZARDOUS WASTE. When a mild-mannered janitor, Melvin, becomes a victim of bullies’ prank and swan dives into an open barrel of toxic waste, he becomes - The Toxic Avenger! A vigilante with the body of Hulk Hogan with a skin condition, a tutu, and a desire to clean up crime in town faster than a Roomba with a vendetta. Corrupt cops, psycho thugs, even the mayor are all taken down by this mop-wielding mutant with a heart of gold and the skin texture of reheated oatmeal. Come and see justice just the way it’s meant to be: messy, radioactive, and mopped floor to ceiling.