FOLLOWING FILMS - Podcast, Movies, Music, and More

Long before Neil Armstrong uttered his historic words on the dusty plains of the Sea of Tranquility, and nearly two decades before Stanley Kubrick redefined the cosmos with his masterpiece, a small independent film did something truly revolutionary. It treated space travel not as a setting for ray-gun gothic fantasies or alien monster invasions, but as a hard, sober engineering challenge. Released in 1950, Destination Moon, which was directed by Irving Pichel and produced by the legendary George Pal, was the first major American film to trade in the pulp of the era for the cold, precise calculations of real-world physics. While modern audiences might look back at its slow pacing, wooden dialogue, and bold Technicolor palette with a sense of quaint nostalgia, viewing the film today requires a different lens. It is a cinematic time capsule, a blueprint of human ambition drafted at the dawn of the Cold War, functioning as both an impressive technical milestone and a fascinating ideologica...

It is hard to believe it has been a whole decade since we first watched a squinting, floppy-haired Conor try to impress a cool girl by claiming he had a band, only to frantically assemble one from the misfit toys of his tough Dublin school. John Carney’s Sing Street remains one of the most charming and genuinely uplifting musical comedies of the modern era, beautifully balancing the grit of 1980s recession-era Ireland with the pure, escapist joy of synthesizers and shoulder pads. To celebrate this landmark tenth anniversary, Lionsgate Limited is giving fans the ultimate trip down memory lane. For the very first time, the film is receiving a pristine 4K Ultra HD release as part of an exclusive collector's set, alongside a highly nostalgic, limited-edition VHS tape for the ultimate retro physical media collectors. The semi-autobiographical story, directed with a loving touch by Carney, follows 14-year-old Conor (Ferdia Walsh-Peelo) as he navigates the minefield of a strict new public...

When Paramount+ first announced NCIS: Tony & Ziva, the immediate reaction from television critics and long-time fans sat somewhere between intense nostalgia and justified skepticism. Television history is littered with spin-offs that failed to capture the lightning in a bottle that made the original dynamics work, especially when built around a "will they, won't they" relationship that sustained a massive broadcast procedural for a decade. Michael Weatherly and Cote de Pablo had a rare, combustible chemistry on the flagship CBS series, but transporting that specific energy out of the familiar orange-walled bullpen of the Navy Yard and into a serialized European espionage thriller was a massive creative gamble. Now that the ten-episode first season has wrapped its run, the verdict is fascinatingly complex. The series is not the comfortable, episodic comfort food of its parent show. Instead, it plays like a glossy, hyper-serialized European actioner that uses the built-...

The 1971 international co-production Red Sun (released in Europe as Soleil rouge ) remains one of the most fascinating anomalies in global cinema. Directed by Terence Young, the British filmmaker who essentially built the cinematic blueprint for James Bond in Dr. No and From Russia with Love , the movie is an ambitious, genre-blurring hybrid. It marries the cynical, sun-baked landscape of the Spaghetti Western with the rigid, honor-bound traditions of the Japanese chambara, or samurai film. Shot in the rugged deserts of Almería, Spain, the production brought together an almost unbelievable international quartet of stars: American tough guy Charles Bronson, Japanese screen icon Toshirō Mifune, French hearthrob Alain Delon, and Swiss starlet Ursula Andress. On paper, this cross-cultural melting pot sounds like a blatant studio gimmick cooked up to appease multiple global box offices at once. In execution, however, it delivers a remarkably cohesive, tonally unique action-adventure that ...

It took sixteen years for director Francesco Lucente to finally get Starbright out of development hell and onto the screen in early 2026. The result? A massive, 148-minute fantasy experiment that is already dividing anyone brave enough to sit through it. Written by Joseph Bitonti and Olimpia Lucente, the film tries to be a little bit of everything: a cosmic fairytale, a small-town family drama, a sweeping romance, and, bizarrely, a gritty crime thriller. If you are looking for a gentle, nostalgic escape that pushes a pure message of hope, you might actually find some comfort here. But for the rest of us, Starbright quickly turns into an exhausting, incoherent mess. It constantly trips over its own feet, crushed by mismatched tones, way too many subplots, and pacing that makes two and a half hours feel like four. The core story starts out simply enough. We meet Aisling (Alexandra Dowling), an orphaned young Irish woman stuck on a lonely, weathered farm at the edge of a dying American to...

The cinematic landscape of Tromaville, New Jersey, has always functioned as a toxic, sludge-covered mirror to our own society. Ever since the legendary Toxic Avenger picked up his first mop back in 1984, Troma Entertainment has proudly flown the flag of uncompromising, low-budget, independent filmmaking. Over the decades, we have seen atomic disasters, mutant high schools, and avian zombies terrorize this fictional town, yet it remains an unyielding beacon of underground creativity. While early internet fans will fondly remember dialing up the old Troma website to see the weekly spotlight on edgy, counter-culture Tromettes, these female figures were often relegated to sidekick status or damsels in distress. With Rise of the Super Tromettes, directed, written, and produced by Mercedes the Muse, the iconic women of this cinematic universe finally seize total control of the spotlight. The film delivers a hyper-vibrant, deeply chaotic, and aggressively low-budget addition to the Troma myth...

When director Renny Harlin burst onto the Hollywood scene in the late 1980s and early 1990s, he quickly established himself as a master of high-octane, unapologetically maximalist action cinema. Films like Die Hard 2, Cliffhanger, and his 1999 aquatic horror masterpiece Deep Blue Sea proved that he knew exactly how to construct nail-biting suspense out of the most preposterous premises. In his 2026 survival thriller Deep Water, Harlin returns to the literal and figurative waters that defined the peak of his career. Merging the tense, multi-character melodrama of a classic 1970s airplane disaster film with the brutal, visceral terror of a modern creature feature, Deep Water emerges as a deeply satisfying, albeit highly formulaic, piece of popcorn entertainment. It is a film that fully understands its own pulp pedigree, refusing to wink condescendingly at the audience while delivering an unrelenting ride that successfully maximizes the simple dread of what might be swimming just beneath ...

Joel Schumacher’s Falling Down (1993) is as much a Rorschach test as it is a smog-choked thriller. Released at a point of intense cultural volatility in American history, specifically on the heels of the 1992 Los Angeles riots that exploded after the acquittal of 4 LAPD officers who beat Rodney King on videotape, and during an economic recession that left white-collar workers feeling increasingly precarious, the film captured a precise, ugly, and resonant cultural nerve. Viewed today, it feels less like a relic of the nineties and more like an uncanny, predictive text for the modern landscape of alienation, political polarization, and online radicalization. It is a film about the fracturing of the American Dream, told through the perspective of a man who believed the marketing copy, only to find himself bankrupt in a world that no longer recognizes him. The narrative architecture of the film is deceptively simple, adopting a classic Odyssean structure transposed onto the gridlocked asp...

Steven Soderbergh has spent the better part of the last few decades operating less like a traditional Hollywood auteur and more like a restless cinematic mechanic. He is the kind of director who will follow up a massive, star-studded studio hit with a micro-budget experiment shot entirely on a mobile phone, seemingly just to see if he can pull it off. This unpredictable streak makes his filmography incredibly erratic, but it also means that when he hits the sweet spot, the results are wildly entertaining. With his feature, The Christophers, working from a razor-sharp script by Ed Solomon, Soderbergh manages a particularly tricky tonal pivot. On paper, the project looks like a standard, slick art-world heist movie. In execution, however, it transforms into an intimate, blackly comedic chamber piece that cares far less about the mechanics of the crime than it does about family trauma, artistic ego, and the transactional nature of modern relationships. The narrative introduces us to Julia...