daveroseman-35849

Blue Moon (2025) is the kind of film that sneaks up on you-quiet, reflective, and emotionally precise in a way that lingers long after the credits roll. Anchored by an excellent ensemble cast, the film feels less interested in grand statements and more focused on the fragile, often uncomfortable moments that define connection, regret, and longing.

Ethan Hawke delivers a deeply lived-in performance, full of restraint and melancholy. There's a natural weariness to his presence that fits the film's tone perfectly. Bobby Cannavale brings an unexpected emotional grounding, balancing warmth with volatility, while Andrew Scott once again proves how compelling he can be with minimal dialogue-every look feels intentional, every pause weighted. Margaret Qualley adds a quiet vulnerability to the film, her performance subtle but emotionally resonant, never overplayed.

Directorally, Blue Moon moves at an unhurried pace that may test some viewers' patience, but the stillness feels deliberate. The film thrives in its silences, allowing the audience to sit with the characters rather than be guided emotionally. The cinematography complements this approach beautifully, bathing scenes in soft, moonlit tones that reinforce the film's introspective mood.

If Blue Moon stumbles at all, it's in its narrative looseness. At times, the story feels more like a collection of moments than a cohesive arc, which may leave some emotional threads feeling unresolved. Still, that ambiguity seems part of the film's DNA-it's less about answers and more about atmosphere and emotional truth.

Ultimately, Blue Moon is a thoughtful, actor-driven drama that rewards patience and attention. It's not loud or showy, but it's quietly affecting, powered by performances that feel honest and human. A film that understands that sometimes the most powerful emotions are the ones left unsaid.

Jennifer Lawrence delivers exactly what you expect from her in Die, My Love: a fearless, emotionally exposed performance that anchors the entire film. She throws herself fully into this role, raw and unfiltered, making it impossible to look away even when the film itself feels uncertain of its footing. Lawrence doesn't just play her character - she inhabits her, unraveling piece by piece in a way that feels deeply personal and at times unsettling. That said, the film's pacing often works against her. Die, My Love has a clunky rhythm that makes it difficult to fully settle into its emotional flow. Scenes bleed into one another without clear transitions, and more than once I found myself questioning what I was watching. Was this happening in real time? Was it a memory? A dream? A projection of her fractured mental state? While ambiguity can be powerful, here it often feels more confusing than intentional, pulling focus away from the story instead of deepening it. Robert Pattinson delivers a solid, restrained performance, playing off Lawrence with an understated presence that feels deliberate. He often exists on the periphery of her emotional storm, which works thematically, though it sometimes leaves his character feeling underdeveloped. Sissy Spacek, as always, brings a quiet gravitas to the film. Even in limited moments, she adds weight and a sense of lived experience that grounds the chaos around her. Visually and tonally, the film commits fully to its discomfort. There's a suffocating intimacy to many scenes that mirrors the internal struggle at the heart of the story. When the film clicks, it's powerful and haunting. When it doesn't, the uneven pacing and murky narrative choices create distance where connection is needed most. Ultimately, Die, My Love is a film worth watching for Jennifer Lawrence alone. Her performance is outstanding, brave, and deeply affecting. I just wish the film surrounding her had matched her clarity and emotional precision. There's a great film buried here - it just struggles to find its rhythm.

Bill Maher has never been interested in comfort comedy, and Is Anyone Else Seeing This? Is another reminder that his stand-up thrives on friction. This is Maher doing what he's done best for decades: stepping into the cultural minefield, daring the audience to follow, and unapologetically saying the quiet part out loud. The special is fast, sharp, and very much of the moment. Maher takes aim at political polarization, cancel culture, aging, and the strange contradictions of modern life, delivering jokes that feel less like punchlines and more like blunt observations sharpened into comedy. Whether you agree with him or not, there's an undeniable precision to how he constructs his arguments - every setup is deliberate, every pause calculated What stands out most is Maher's confidence in letting jokes breathe. He doesn't rush for cheap laughs; instead, he allows discomfort to sit in the room, trusting that the humor will land because there's truth underneath it. Some bits hit harder than others, and a few will almost certainly spark debate, but that's clearly part of the design. Maher isn't chasing universal approval - he's chasing engagement. The staging is simple and clean, keeping the focus squarely on the material and Maher's delivery. His cadence remains as sharp as ever, blending sarcasm, skepticism, and a seasoned sense of timing that comes from decades onstage.

Is Anyone Else Seeing This? Won't convert Maher skeptics, but for fans, it's a strong entry in his stand-up catalog. It's smart, provocative, and unapologetically Bill Maher - a comedy special that challenges as much as it entertains, and one that lingers in your head long after the laughs fade.