Watching Our Way Through It: January in Review

Quick takes on Severance season 2, Star Trek: Section 31, six Oscar nominees, and more.

Things are bleak, and in the face of so much national and global upheaval, it’s been hard to focus on something as mundane-feeling as publishing a newsletter full of capsule movie reviews. That being said, I still believe in the power of visual media to refuel our spirits, inform and embolden our hearts, and provide us with pockets of joy – or anger, or fear, or whatever type of timed emotional release we need at any given moment – even in the darkest times. I don’t know if my writing is at all “important” at a time like this, but I’ve decided to keep going. I hope you’ll keep going, whatever that may mean to you, too.

This post is a wrap-up of everything I’ve been watching and writing about since Christmas. Spoiler alert: I’ve been into crime shows, both the kind that point a glowing neon arrow at social and governmental shortcomings, and the kind that imagine a more orderly world where there’s actually someone in power out there who cares fiercely about the wellbeing of others (and an easily identifiable evil to overcome!). As legitimate as ongoing criticism of the crime genre is, I think these are two powerful functions of it, and it makes sense that during times like these, we might get the urge to sink into our couches and marathon Law and Order: SVU.

In the coming days, you’ll be getting separate newsletters about what I read and listened to in January. I decided it was better to split up a months’ worth of recommendations rather than subject everyone to one massive e-mail. I don't think this will be our new standard going forward, but as is abundantly clear, we’re all in uncharted territory here.

The shows:

• After falling head over heels for the first season (it was my number one show of 2022!), I was so wary of Severance season 2 that I actually put off watching my screeners for as long as possible. Could a show as intricate, eerie, stylish, and mind-melting as the workplace-set sci-fi thriller really pull off a second act as riveting as its first? Thank Kier, the answer is yes. I’ve seen the first 6 episodes of the show’s sophomore season, and can confirm that the Apple TV+ series is still incredibly engrossing, bleakly existential (although it’s focused more on plot than ponderings this time around), and mysterious as hell. It also does what so few mystery box shows bother to do, providing a handful of well-planned answers to its biggest mysteries instead of dropping a trail of question marks for as long as possible. I can’t wait for y’all to see more of it.
• When working at a fast-moving pop culture website, sometimes spoiling great shows and movies for yourself comes with the territory. For me, that often means finding out decades-old twists while helping to cover the Star Trek beat. Even if I haven’t watched every episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, I need to watch some episodes of it to be familiar enough to write about, say, Section 31 (more on that later). I’ve always been a TOS-centric Trek fan at heart, but I finally started DS9 in earnest – and from the start – in January, and I’m already totally captivated by its morally layered wartime premise, quirky cast of alien characters, and Avery Brooks’ wild capital-A acting choices. I’m not far enough into the show to give any significant take on it, but for now, I’m mentioning it here so all the DS9 gals and gays know I’m finally getting on your level.
• I did not have “start watching Criminal Minds for the first time 20 years after it premiered” on my 2025 Bingo card, but one thing led to another the other night and now I’m mid-way through season 2. I confess that I’ve always mentally lumped the series in with other long-running investigative procedurals that are basically just lurid ads for home security companies, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised by Criminal Minds so far. Its flaws (bad editing, corny quotes, the promise that justice is always served swiftly using the latest cutting-edge technology) are so hyper-stylized that it seems as much like a fantastical superhero series as it does a crime show. Plus, its first season casually debunks a few popular misconceptions about crime that still run rampant today – even if the second season starts making up new types of evil dudes to worry about. I can’t foresee myself watching all 17(!) seasons of this show and counting, but stranger things have happened. And before you ask: yes, of course Reid is my favorite.
• FLet’s hop across the pond for a second for Shetland. Another long-running crime drama, this Scottish series is moody where Criminal Minds is action-packed, and short-form (most of its seasons are 6 episodes) instead of marathon-friendly. Again, I’m only a couple seasons into its lengthy run, but so far I like it for its strong sense of place, as well as for its murder mysteries, which encourage constant guessing yet are fairly tough to crack from your couch. It’s not Shakespeare, but few crime shows really are.

The movies:

• If you need my Oscars hot take, here it is: it’s a travesty that RaMell Ross’ groundbreaking, gorgeous, gutting adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s novel Nickel Boys isn’t nominated in every category. The film uses a unique cinematic strategy to bring its story of two Black boys sent to a Florida reformatory school to life, showing viewers the pair’s world almost entirely through the eyes of Elwood (Ethan Herisse) and Turner (Brandon Wilson). It’s a creative choice that allows Ross to communicate plot and characterization through lovingly curated images – revealing much about the boys’ situation based on what they choose to look towards or away from. It sounds disorienting, but Ross uses this method masterfully, and the result is nothing short of phenomenal. This isn’t just one of the best movies of 2024: it’s one of the best movies I’ve ever seen.
• Last year, my attempt to complete the Criterion Challenge was a non-starter. I gave up midway through February when it became clear that life was going to get in the way. I’m not sure if I’ll make it through all 52 of my picks this year, but it helps that I started with a doozy of a first watch: the 1967 Sidney Poitier-led mystery In the Heat of the Night. Centuries of un-reckoned-with American sins roil beneath the surface of Stirling Silliphant’s firecracker script, which tells the story of a Black detective from Philadelphia (Poitier) caught up in a murder case in a sundown town in Mississippi. The movie feels surprisingly modern whenever it addresses topics like abortion and Jim Crow-era violence with open eyes and a strong conscience, but some of its most astute observations about race and class take place in its subtler moments. This is the kind of film I could read a dozen great essays about without ever running out of new angles to consider.
• Also on the Criterion docket: I found Taste of Cherry, Abbas Kiarostami’s profound, minimalist 1997 film about a man picking up strangers in hopes of acquiring an accomplice for a deeply personal "crime," really moving. The filmmaker frames Iran with both distance and love, and star Homayoun Ershadi gives a heart-wrenching performance (in his first-ever role!), communicating everything we need to know about his anguished protagonist through his eyes alone. I wasn’t sold on the film’s ending, but I think I’ll come to appreciate it after watching more Kiarostami. Roger Ebert has rarely ever been so wrong about a movie.
• I imagine that I don’t need to tell anyone how much My Cousin Vinny, Jonathan Lynn’s 1992 courtroom classic starring Joe Pesci as a New York sort-of-lawyer going up against the Alabama justice system, rocks. It’s so warm, so funny, so retro, and so rewatchable. Also, no one has ever been prettier or cooler than Marisa Tomei is in this movie! I want her entire wardrobe.
• I feel lucky to have moved to the UK the same year that it got Kneecap, a bold, incendiary, and extremely funny movie full of observations about Northern Ireland and England that I’ve heard spoken aloud but have never seen put to screen. The musical comedic drama stars real-life members of the eponymous Irish-speaking hip-hop group, who do an excellent job playing somewhat fictionalized versions of themselves in a retelling of the band’s rise to fame (and infamy). If you like movies with the shaggy rebel spirit of Trainspotting, are open to learning more about the struggle for Irish independence in the most profane way possible, or just want to spend a couple hours watching something joyous and off-the-wall, Kneecap is worth your time.
• I clearly squeezed several of the most unorthodox movies of 2024 into the final days of the year, because I also watched Better Man, AKA the movie about pop star Robbie Williams in which he’s played by a CGI ape, over the holiday season. Look, I know a biopic about a famous former boy band member who some Americans have never heard of being portrayed by a computerized chimpanzee is a tough sell, but I do wholeheartedly recommend this movie. I’ve seen some people say that it’s a by-the-numbers story apart from its central gimmick, but – aside from the fact that it’s weird to call someone’s real-life struggles with addiction cliché – that assessment does a disservice to the film’s elaborate musical numbers and the deep vein of genuine self-hate that pounds through every minute of it. Williams is one part unapologetic, one part sorry for everything he’s ever done, and that makes for a particularly potent and painful take on fame and pain. Also, the monkey somehow really does look like him.
• My Old Ass, a coming-of-age comedic drama about a girl who encounters her older self while on a mushroom trip one fateful summer, is the kind of heartbreaking yet life-affirming movie I would’ve eaten up when I was a teenager with a big bucket list and a lot of undiagnosed anxiety. I still really like it today, but it’s a more painful watch than I expected now, especially in the wake of star Aubrey Plaza’s recent personal loss. She’s great here, as is Maisy Stella, who reminds me of Betty star Nina Moran in the best way.
• I’m glad that I waited a while to watch Wicked, a movie that seemed to sweep up everyone in its path with the cinematic power of a Kansas tornado upon its release. With a little time and space (and an at-home screener), I was able to enjoy the movie without feeling the pressure to either hyperbolize or react against its popularity. I was shockingly unfamiliar with the Wicked story before seeing the film, so I can’t speak about it in comparison to the play or novel on which it’s based. I can say that I loved the set design, music, themes, and choreography, was blown away by Ariana Grande’s capacity for comedic acting (sorry to underestimate you, girl), and thought the film’s last 40 minutes or so lost an incredible amount of steam. I loved it until I didn’t, but I was truly dazzled by the parts I did love.
• The Wild Robot is a beautifully rendered story about parenthood, community, and the circle of life that seems to largely be talked about in terms of how much it makes everyone cry. It didn’t make me cry, so I hope I’m not a monster, but I was smitten with its scrappy story nonetheless. The animation is incredible and the voice cast, especially Pedro Pascal and Lupita Nyong’o, is excellent.
• I’m pretty sure the aptly-titled animated feature Pokemon: The First Movie was the first movie I ever watched in theaters as a kid. I rewatched it this week and was tickled to find out that my assessment of the film as a five-year-old was sound: the Pokemon battles are still delightful, the amount of screen time sunk into the existential Mewtwo plot is still off-putting, Team Rocket are still gay icons (okay, I didn’t make that declaration when I was five, but can you imagine?), and I still can’t stand to see sweet lil Pikachu sad. This one does make me cry.
• In case you haven’t heard, Paramount+ era Star Trek is now in the movie-making business, beginning with the newly released Star Trek: Section 31. This movie, which was reportedly planned as a TV show years ago, is bound to divide Trek fans, as it feels less like a Star Trek story and more like a Suicide Squad riff or a knockoff Guy Ritchie caper. I embraced the antihero story as splashy, campy fun that sort-of succeeds thanks in large part to its great cast (Michelle Yeoh! Sam Richardson! A surprise cameo!), but I also just love to see old franchises try new things, even when they might feel sacrilegious. I don’t see Star Trek as something that’s in short supply, so I’m just glad it has the space to get weird now and again. I wrote quite a bit about the movie over at /Film, ranking all the new characters in order of how much I want to see them again and waxing poetic about the return of the Cherons, a particularly polarizing Original Series species.

The shorts:

Reader, I’ve decided it’s finally time I get into short films. When I was in my late teens and early 20s, I lived in the world of shorts, helping to put on an annual women-centric short film fest at my college and serving on the judging panel for the earliest versions of Roxie Mixtape, the local shorts event commissioned by San Francisco’s historic Roxie Theater. But for much of my adult life, I’ve felt like I didn’t have time to explore an entire “additional” mode of filmmaking, especially when I was busy trying to review as many as eight different TV shows a month.

The review business seems to have dried up, at least for me, so I now have the time. I’ve also realized that there’s nothing "additional" about shorts – they’re films, just like features are films, and it’s silly to regard them as anything else. Finally, shorts feel particularly suited to my current attention span, which is fractured at best.

I'm eager to add to my shorts watchlist, so if you get a minute, tell me about your own favorite short films in the comments, via email, or on socials. In the meantime, here are all the short films I watched in January.

• I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a documentary about police violence as infuriating and jaw-dropping as Incident, a 2025 Oscar contender that should come with a massive content warning as it contains liberal footage of a real dead body. The film’s victim is Harith "Snoop" Augustus, a Chicago hairdresser who got stopped by a group of police in 2018 because he had a gun in his waistband (for which he had a permit). My motto when it comes to viewing real-life violence is that it’s entirely possible to understand how wrong something is without seeing it happen, but I do commend Incident for its powerful, creative, and purposely overwhelming use of body cam, witness, and security footage. The entire film is made up of overlapping, real-time footage, largely taken in the immediate aftermath of the shooting. It includes a dozen different moments that (in my opinion) make it clear that committing violence – and then immediately covering it up – is often second nature for American police, and helping people is not. To quote journalist Adam Serwer: “the cruelty is the point.”
• I first decided to go on a short film tangent while writing a rundown of every tie in Oscars history for /Film. It’s a shorter list than you might imagine, but it includes several great and contrasting films (and a few bad ones). One of the best I checked out was Down and Out in America, a close-up look at the Americans who were already suffering due to Reaganomics by 1986. Farmers, homeless folks, and the working poor all speak candidly about the scarily thin line between economic safety and poverty in this striking, still-relevant short.
• I have a lot of love for Agnès Varda, and I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to watch her immersive but brief 1968 doc about the Black Panthers (aptly titled Black Panthers). Varda’s piece is infused with the anti-establishment spirit of the late ‘60s, and it gives an overview of the Panthers movement using its own revolutionary language. It’s fun to see how willing Varda has always been to lean into the direction of her heart, and the footage of 20th-century Oakland that she captures is vital and historic.
• Another short that tied at the Oscars, Peggy Rajski’s Trevor is a surprisingly effective, gently funny coming-of-age story about a gay kid pushed to the brink by his friends and family. Incredibly, Rajski and others involved reportedly decided to make The Trevor Project – the famous hotline service for queer youth in crisis –  after realizing there were no resources available to kids who might be emotionally triggered by the fictional story when it first aired in 1994. The movie is short and very sweet; it's a great way to spend 20 minutes. 
• Another short doc up for an Oscar this year, Instruments of a Beating Heart is an adorable look at the surprisingly intense and rewarding world of 2nd grade music classes in Japan. The movie works as a palate cleanser after watching some of the other, heavier nominated shorts, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you won’t be swept up in the emotional journey of pint-sized Ayame and her quest to play the cymbals in a school concert.
• Finally, I checked out some 20th century animated shorts that were simultaneously wildly dated and pretty enjoyable. For /Film, I described the U.S. Health Service cartoon So Much For So Little (another Oscar-tying film) as “an especially effective and empathetic slice of propaganda, which highlights how public services are working to reduce infant and childhood mortality.” With clear, fact-based approaches to topics like vaccinations and disability services, this seems like a movie people still need to watch today.
• The public domain has a treasure trove of extremely old cartoons, including several featuring Oswald the Lucky Rabbit (a precursor to Mickey Mouse) and some starring his even more off-brand counterpart, Bimbo the pup (eventually outshined by his co-star Betty Boop). These cartoons are unsurprisingly horrifying in their portrayals of racism, child abuse, and other normalized aspects of life in the ‘20s and ‘30s, but they’re also more creative and novel in their use of cartoon physics and 2D animation than almost anything being made today. The Oswald cartoons especially are fast-paced, format-busting, and clever. If you don’t know where to start with them, do what my friends and I did: find the (non-horrifying) cartoon closest to your birthday on this Wikipedia list of SNL-parody-level-questionable Oswald titles and see if it’s on YouTube.

There we go, folks. We made it to and through the first review round-up of the year. If you haven’t already read my best of 2024 lists or my recent post about what to do when everything sucks so, so bad, you can check those out in the links. I’ll be back soon with some admittedly eclectic book and podcast recommendations. Until then, take care of each other.