Movie Theaters Should Start Installing A Second IMAX Auditorium...Solely Dedicated to Cinema's Past

 

Last year, IMAX leadership like CEO Richard Gelfond and COO Giovanni Dolci sat down with Collider to talk about the future of this large screen format. A question they got related to  whether or not they would be adding a second IMAX screen to a Burbank AMC location. Gelfond immediately expressed disinterest in the idea of multiple IMAX screens.

“We don't love the concept of second screens,” Gelfond remarked, “Because when you don't have a big movie, what do you do with the second screen? So, no. It's not a focus of ours to do that.” Dolci also stepped in to remark that only specific, massive movie theater auditoriums could become IMAX screens. “It’s difficult to find a space for a second screen of equal geometry and quality,” Dolci explained, “We don't want to have a Tier A screen and a Tier B screen.”

Gelfond’s comments seemed a touch obtuse in regarding the reality of modern IMAX screenings. This is no longer February 2015, where there’s enough of a dearth of movies playing in IMAX screens that Focus can have exclusive dominance over these domiciles for an entire week. Over the April 12-18, 2025 week, for instance, The Amateur, Warfare, One to One: John and Yoko, and even the second Minecraft Movie weekend were all competing for a single IMAX auditorium at typical multiplexes. There’s demand for second IMAX screens from movie theaters and surely a typical multiplex (with 12+ screens) have one auditorium that could meet the size requirements of this brand.

However, I have a suggestion for how these second IMAX screens should be used. They shouldn’t exist just to provide even more opening weekend Mandalorian and Grogu screenings nor even overflow when there are tons of new IMAX releases (sorry to those April 2025 newbies that were scrambling for IMAX showtimes). IMAX should install a second screen in multiplexes dedicated to re-releases of old movies.

Create a Space For Older Cinema!

Repertory screenings have had a renaissance in the 2020s. Younger audiences especially have gravitated towards theatrical re-releases of movies ranging from Revenge of the Sith to Akira Kurosawa’s works to Joe Wright’s Pride & Prejudice.  There’s clearly a demand for these showings and IMAX has made sure to cash in on this phenomenon. In the last two years, more and more films have garnered limited IMAX re-releases, including Princess Mononoke, Speed Racer, The Shining, and Back to the Future. These have also scored solid box office, particularly a mighty lucrative December 2024 IMAX reissue of Interstellar. However, several of these (especially Speed Racer) reissues had to share screen space with new IMAX releases.

Thus, Speed Racer was only available on one of its two IMAX nights at 10:30 PM in some locations. Dedicating a second IMAX screen to older cinema would already be a boon just to rectifying this issue. More screen times could allow more audiences to experience pre-2020 cinema on the biggest canvases possible. Furthermore, IMAX is currently only doing movie re-releases every few months or so. They’re a sporadic presence simply because IMAX must defer to new releases for its screens.

A screen concentrated just on reissues could also solve this problem. No need to disrupt the Toy Story 5 or Supergirl IMAX showings. The IMAX re-releases will just be in their own auditorium elsewhere in the theater. Leaning on this route and the IMAX brand name could be a fitting means to a great end: a consistent stream of older films on the big screen. Each week, a new pre-2020 motion picture could start playing on the second IMAX screen. When RRR’s week of IMAX showings are done, audiences could witness Parasite or Her in IMAX for the following seven days.

The existence of The Shining, Princess Mononoke, and Back to the Future IMAX showings in 2025 also excitingly suggest that this second IMAX screen could house more than just 21st-century cinema. Imagine each year there being an opportunity to see (albeit for seven days) 2001: A Space Odyssey on an IMAX screen. Or Lawrence of Arabia! Or Singin’ in the Rain! The possibilities are endless, especially given that audiences aren't just showing up for new action-oriented blockbusters in theaters. In a summer where The Devil Wears Prada 2 and Backrooms are doing circles around a new Star Wars movie, there's clearly an appetite for all kinds of big screen cinema. Repretory IMAX screenings wouldn't need to just focus on superhero movies or punch-heavy features. There can be room for all kinds of movies, especially if there's a whole auditorium dedicated to pre-2020 titles.

Cinema's Past Is Vital And Deserves Respect 

Platforms like Letterboxd have heightened appreciation for older eras of cinema within current younger generations. A steady stream of IMAX reissues could provide those audiences a chance to witness these seminal projects in a glorious communal setting. As someone who saw Night of the Hunter on 35mm film at the Texas Theatre last year, its utter magic watching vintage cinema in the realm it debuted in. Hearing and recognizing everyone around you becoming invested in images from the 1950s is similarly glorious. Meanwhile, watching the original Star Wars in a massive college classroom with hundreds of other people in February 2020 remains one of my fondest memories of this decade. People were so invested in the film! 

I treasure platforms like the Criterion Channel or my local library system's avalanche of DVDs/Blu-Rays that allow me to watch motion pictures at home. Lord knows I wouldn't have been able to ever experience life-changing titles like The Devils or D.E.B.S., not to mention the various animated movies that instilled my love for cinema at a young age, without home video viewing. However, the joys of experiencing any kind of movie, old or new, in a theatrical setting are impossible to overstate. Having these projects consume your entire line of vision, your attention solely focused on these flickering images from decades past, makes for an extra absorbing experience. 

Plus, whether you've just watched Come and See or The Great Muppet Caper (both of which I've seen at the Texas Theatre), witnessing a very specific ambiance with strangers is downright magical. The recent deluge of IMAX reissues has shone a powerful spotlight on these and the countless other joys of seeing classics on the big screens. Implementing a second IMAX screen at movie theaters dedicated just to these screenings could further amplify the notoriety and accessibility of old movies theatrically.

Furthermore, limiting IMAX screens to just two auditoriums with very specific purposes (one dedicated to new cinema, the other focused on yesteryear's classics) would, ironically, help ward off further expansion of IMAX screens in movie theaters. We don't need every auditorium in multiplexes to be IMAX-sized or whatever IMAX pastiche your local theater chain has concocted. I didn't spend my showings of Obsession, Is God Is, and Blue Heron wondering the whole time "Ugh, if only these were in IMAX." They flourished beautifully on standard screens. Opening up a second IMAX screen that also has showtimes for new Marvel or Christopher Nolan features, though, might open up Pandora's Box. "If we have two auditoriums for new movies...why not three? Or four? Or..."

Meanwhile, restricting the new IMAX screens to just showing old movies firmly says that the buck stops here. There's no expansion of showtimes for new IMAX releases. We don't need that. Avengers: Endgame could shatter IMAX records with just one IMAX auditorium at theaters. Clearly, a solitary IMAX auditorium isn't inhibiting the box office grosses of movies. The only reason for multiple IMAX screens to exist in one theater would be to provide a space where cinema's history is always at arm's reach.

Of course, this piece should not be seen as bootlicking for the IMAX brand. Instead, let this be a paean to the wonders of seeing older movies in theaters. Such experiences aren't just constricted to IMAX auditoriums. Movie theaters across the country are doing God's work in putting vintage motion pictures of all types on the big screen. Allow me to highlight some tools one can use to find such locations:

For folks residing in the New York and San Francisco Bay Area, ScreenSlate always has up-to-date showtimes for repertory screenings.

My fellow Dallas film freaks! Dallas Film Now provides a handy guide to local vintage movie screenings at all kinds of locations, including the seminal Texas Theater.

For potential theaters in states across the country, head over to this page on 366 Weird Movies, which lists specialty theaters in all American states. Click on the links to these theaters and see what your nearest location is playing!

A second IMAX screen allowing year-round repertory showings would be really cool (especially for goobers like me who missed Speed Racer's two-night IMAX run in April). However, the joys of witnessing classic cinema theatrically can be found in so many amazing places, many of them homegrown theaters well worth your patronage. Let's all keep the positive momentum going for theatrical re-releases and continue embracing older cinema on the big screen!

2020s Horror Is Thriving Through Offering Stories With Inescapable Societal Scares

SPOILERS FOR OBSESSION, LONGLEGS, AND BACKROOMS AHEAD

Ten years ago, The Angry Birds Movie and Captain America: Civil War were dominating the domestic box office. Summer 2026, meanwhile, has closed out a spectacular May at the box office with audiences embracing warped R-rated horror. Movies costing under $15 million made outside the major studio system, like Backrooms and Obsession, have dominated multiplexes. No Marvel title kicking off the summer? No problem. Freaky Nikki is apparently what audiences want and need. Not even a new Star Wars title could hope to compete with these projects that gave younger audiences original and non-sequel stories that belonged to them.

Backrooms and Obsession don't just signal how much of a box office juggernaut horror has become in the 2020s. These two titles reflect a new aesthetic dominating this decade's horror scene that's deeply relevant to today's younger audiences. Speaking from experience, the specific challenges facing the under-35 crowd rarely leave this population's mind. We're always making memes or trading bleak barbs about how "I'll never afford a house!" or panic attacks stemming from financial hardships. Inevitably, art that speaks to these challenges is going to be more relevant and captivating to Millennials and Gen-Z audiences than The Mandalorian and Grogu.

Before appreciating how Backrooms, Obsession, Longlegs, and other 2020s horror hits speak to the inescapable societal woes facing younger people, though, we have to go back in time a bit. Specifically, we have to look back at the aesthetics of mainstream 2010s horror and how much it sharply contrasts with this new era of scary cinema.

Remember The 2010s? 

In the 2000s, the horror genre was largely dominated by remakes content to replay the hits of decades past. While some box office hits emerged during this time, largely, American horror garnered a reputation for just delivering worse versions of classics like A Nightmare on Elm Street or endless Saw sequels. As late as 2011, this genre only produced one movie (Paranormal Activity 3) that cleared $55+ million domestically. In just six years, though, this space was suddenly hopping again. Some of the year's biggest movies, namely Get Out and It, belonged to a domain that once seemed destined to only host Shark Night 3D. In the 2010s, the horror genre was "not dead, it's surely alive, living on the inside, roaring like a lion."

What kind of plots were driving this renaissance? Some of these titles inspiring the 2010s horror boom clearly paved the way for today's domination of indie horror. Chiefly, It Follows and The VVitch established that original and subversive scary films could leave an impact. Jordan Peele's first two masterpieces, Get Out and Us, delivered (among countless other virtues) distinctly modern recontextualizations of classic horror iconography (like slasher movie staples permeating Us). Some of the decade's biggest movies, though, were about preserving the status quo and protecting the nuclear family.

James Wan's The Conjuring films, specifically the mainline installments (spin-offs like The Nun and Annabelle: Creation differ a bit in this regard), each follow happy, unthreatening families who suddenly deal with demons plaguing their households. Only Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine Wilson (Vera Farmiga) can set things right. They must save these households whose lives have been profoundly disrupted. At the end of these titles, the status quo is restored, the families are all smiling again (albeit all of them needing some serious therapy now). These period piece films focus on people, much like the leads of classic horror fare like Poltergeist or The Amityville Horror, who can afford homes dealing with the capsizing of their lives. If only those clapping demons would leave, everything would be fine.

The two It movies also follow this mold. That's a weird element given how Stephen King's It novel emphasizes that the "normal" world the Loser's Club members inhabit is rotten to the core. The town of Derry itself is sick and intertwined with Pennywise's carnage. That's why it's eventually destroyed once Pennywise is defeated. In other words, there's so much more wrong with this world than just one cosmic being posing as a toothy clown. 

Andy Muschietti's first It title hints at this element with fleeting elements like an adult Derry woman witnessing Billy's screams for help before abandoning him. However, the two films largely treat Pennywise as an abnormality whose cruelty isn't intertwined with Derry (the town no longer collapses when he's defeated) and isn't part of a larger cosmic mythology (thanks to the exclusion of Maturin the turtle). He's an anomaly whose defeat brings sunshine to Derry and psychological peace to the grown-up members of the Loser's Club. Take care of one "clown" and everything will be fine.

2010s horror tends to emphasize this storytelling approach, as seen by several other major movies from this decade, like Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. 2018's A Quiet Place can also be seen as adhering to this concept as its central family engages in a classical rural lifestyle whose only problem is those damn aliens with really sensitive hearing. There are no man-made horrors to suggest greater terrors beyond these otherworldly creatures. Even The Purge: Election Year ended on a hopeful note suggesting that the proper presidential candidate could basically wipe out all the bad people that supported the Purge*. The scares in these films are ingrained in deviations from the norm rather than society's status quo itself.

Now, this storytelling approach isn't exclusive to the Conjuring or It movies dominating 2010s horror. 2010s superhero films especially leaned on the idea that adjustments to the status quo were problems rather than toxic status quos themselves. It's also a concept that permeates many different genres across various eras of cinema history. Furthermore, some of these titles subverted this standard, including 2018's The First Purge, which revealed that the Purge violence came down to the U.S. government hiring Klansman and racists to stir up violence. In other words, the scares and villainy were coming from systemic forces, not abnormalities in American society.

Get Out's prologue alone also subverted this norm with a terrifying sequence where LaKeith Stanfield's character is kidnapped in a ritzy neighborhood dominated by white homeowners. Many other movies (of all genres) would use this backdrop to suggest "safety" compared to the "scary" city. Instead, Get Out uses this backdrop to immediately establish that violence against Black bodies can happen anywhere. That subversiveness isn't rampant, though, in titles like It: Chapter Two and the Conjuring films, which deploy fantasies for viewers wherein disruptions to the status quo can be controlled. The transphobic villain of something like Insidious: Chapter Two further reinforces the troubling nature of this trend.

Just as the horror zeitgeist swung from remakes towards Conjuring/Insidious movies, so too would 2010s horror have to give way to something new in the following decade. Now we're in an age of Obsession, Backrooms, and Longlegs.

"No, No, No, No, No, NOOOO, Don't Do That!'

Early in Longlegs, Agent Carter (Blair Underwood) and fellow FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) are sitting in a car in an upscale neighborhood. Pointing to one of these houses, Carter recalls how the people inside were oh so happy...until one member of the household went on a grisly killing spree. Writer/director Osgood Perkins, a man who randomly lost his mother in the 9/11 terror attacks, establishes here that Longlegs doesn't occupy a world where evil can be contained just in Ed and Lorraine's basement. Like Get Out's prologue, it's depicting the chilling reality that awfulness can happen anywhere.

Perkins imbues Longlegs with a persistent wintry chill and desolate aesthetic. This is a chilling realm where answers are elusive. Any conversation can turn bloody in the blink of an eye. Even the blocking in an asylum-set conversation between Harker and Carrie Anna Camera (Kiernan Shipka) is askew and unsettlingly off. Eerie off-kilterness is baked into this universe. Longlegs epitomizes a new era of horror where scares aren't abnormalities. They're not even the edgy, "look at me!" grim antics of the 2000s torturep orn era of horror. 

These films inhabit worlds where terror is soaked into their very DNA. There is no comforting status quo to return to. They're perfect for a generation constantly in touch with real-world horrors (like the Palestinian genocide, police brutality, or local hate crimes) at the touch of a button. Even the 1960s nightly broadcasts of Vietnam War horrors eventually had to wind down at 9:59 PM for the next batch of local programming. Instagram, TikTok, and the internet don't have those scheduling limits. Reminders of endless, often capitalism-informed horrors are at everyone's fingertips. Increased cognizance of the sheer scope of global injustice, inevitably, inspired a new age of horror where there is no comforting status quo to return to.

Obsession is a great case study of this. Baron "Bear" Bailey's (Michael Johnston) first scene in the film is him opening up his heart to...a waitress, standing in for his crush Nikki Freeman (Inde Navarrette). From the get-go, Bear is only using women around him, even complete strangers, as objects for his own use. Long before the fantastical One Wish Willow enters the equation, Bear is already chilling. Once Nikki is trapped by Bear's wish, she provides many unsettling moments rooted in iconic physicality (Navarrette really is amazing in this role). However, it's telling that the most frightening line of the film is Bear, upon hearing the real Nikki beg to be freed from this Hell, pouting and remarking, "is it really so bad to date me?" His feelings are still paramount even when another human being is suffering because of his actions.

This line is a direct extension of Bear's behavior in that diner-set prologue and all his pre-One Wish Willow actions. Take away the fantastical wish element and Bear is still terrifying. Obsession's world is just varying degrees of terrifying rather than perfectly tranquil until a hungry clown or nun-resembling demon shows up.

Similarly, Backrooms chronicles furniture store owner Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Dr. Mary Kline (Renate Reinsve) having tormented lives long before they discover the titular isolated domain. Though the "real world" in Backrooms is one littered with orange-colored doors and bright blue walls, it's one where Clark is already wrapped up in a martyr complex, and Kline lives in the shadow of childhood trauma. The haunting, vacant sights in the Backrooms exacerbate and play on their memories. However, they don't suddenly upend cheerful lives. There's already terror and unease in this world (like Clark getting too aggressive in a role-play exercise with Kline) before the centerpiece of all those YouTube videos and creepypastas materializes.

Even Skinamarink is an extension of this phenomenon. Director Kyle Edward Ball's uber-low budget horror film chronicles a darkened house suddenly taken over by evil paranormal forces. There are no "safe" domiciles in this house. Nor can the child protaganists turn to their parents for help. This bleak exercise's methodical pace and quiet atmosphere imbue uncertainty-informed terror into even the most subdued images. It's a visual extension of young people never evading the economic hardships breathing down on them at all at times. 

As the film goes on, entities that could help the adolescent leads, like windows, vanish. This functions as a parallel for Baby Boomers and other older generations taking away a survivable climate or functioning economy from Millennial, Gen-Z, and Gen-Alpha denizens. Similarly, the intentionally fuzzy 140p imagery simulates the lack of clarity these younger souls have about their future. The crumbling towns housing Longlegs, Weapons, and Obsession's respective narratives have been distilled into one nightmare house for Skinamarink.

These films continue a long-standing trend in horror of chillingly depicting how our greatest scares lie in the everyday world. Night of the Living Dead, for instance, had a gut-punch ending hauntingly depicting that, for Black people, the only thing deadlier than zombies was white people with guns. John Carpenter's The Thing played on the "lone wolf" tendencies of classical masculinity to portray an all-male Arctic camp succumbing to paranoia and distrust once a shape-shifting alien lands in their midst. These guys couldn't trust each other in the best of circumstances. The worst of times only amplifies their problems. On and on the classic examples go. Longlegs, Obsession, and Backrooms play on this sterling legacy.

Something specific to at least the two films dominating May 2026's box office, though, is how they reflect the economic anguish of young people in the mid-2020s. Just making rent or finding any monetary stability provides endless nightmares for folks under 35. That reality wasn't quite reflected in the last era of horror cinema. The characters in 2010s horror fare (like those families disrupted by demons in the Conjuring movies) could afford homes. Meanwhile, Obsession's lead characters are poor twenty-something living in a run-down American town, struggling to get into any college. Part of what makes Obsession's world intrinsically scary from the get-go is the deeply realistic economic hopelessness permeating characters like Sarah Harper (Megan Lawless). 

Though a period piece in 1990, Backrooms also taps into this inescapable reality for Gen-Z folks. Amazing writer Michelle Kisner explained how Backrooms is relevant to young people far better than I ever could, so I'll just quote a Facebook post of hers:

Liminal horror is basically fear of purgatory, of the in-between. It’s unstable and unmoored, and possibly goes on for infinity. There’s actually a term for fear of infinity: apeirophobia. The human mind craves  closure and I think that’s the main existential horror at play in the Backrooms. The ambiguity around why it exists is what makes it scary. The fact that much of the Backrooms looks like an abandoned office building is purposeful, it’s endless work with no reward. Clark is trapped in a capitalism loop where no matter how hard he works he never gains any ground, he just gets older. That’s the fear; you don’t amount to anything then you die. The Backrooms are corrupted nostalgia, and every new level is a further abstraction of the one before it.

 

The *why* of the Backrooms does not matter. Gen Z horror is being stuck in a place where everything has already been sucked dry and there is no way out, only more doors that lead nowhere. They are just left with piles of useless junk.

Don't Fear The Reaper...Or Social Relevance

"Possibly [going] on for infinity" is an apt way to describe the aesthetics of this new age of horror films. Even the works of Zach Cregger are very much a part of this phenomenon. Barbarian, for instance, features a non-linear, expansive narrative reflecting how men who dehumanize women materialize in many forms across multiple decades. Weapons, meanwhile, immediately wrings immense horror out of the phenomenon of people seeking out a vulnerable scapegoat. Aunt Gladys's (Amy Madigan) wickedness causes those kids to vanish. However, the long-simmering hostility these townspeople had to Justin Gandy (Julia Garner) makes it clear that problems existed in this domain long before that fateful day at 2:17 AM when a bunch of third-graders vanished.

The horrors are everywhere. They are inescapable. They're as vast as either the Backrooms or a town's desire to blame vulnerable people (like innocent women or addicts) when things go haywire.

Granted, the 2010s approach to horror isn't dead. The Conjuring: Last Rites and its more finite vision of frights still made a killing at the box office in 2025. Horror, like any healthy genre, can sustain countless forms and aesthetics, justl ike how stage musicals can house Titanique and A Strange Loop. However, the immense popularity of these 2020s horror movies shows that entertaining frights can flourish within bleak aesthetics, working-class backdrops, and socially conscious narratives. Whether intentionally or not, these projects touch on vibrantly relevant material to Gen-Z and Millennial audiences. 

Chiefly, they're unafraid to tackle the horrors of everyday men or the lack of economic options for today's young people. Even period pieces Longlegs and Backrooms occupy dreary visions of America, encapsulating the dearth of opportunities afforded to these generations. We're all living in Clark's desolate furniture store or hoping for one college acceptance letter that might finally improve existence a touch. Just like 50s horror (such as Them!) reflected Atomic Age anxieties and the pervasiveness of 2000s torture horror helped normalize (and occasionally tried commenting on) America's use of torture in the Iraq War, these 2020s horror films navigate a late-capitalism tableau full of endless worries and men (not just in Barbarian and Obsession) feeling entitled to women's bodies. 

So often, today's folks under 35 (myself included) can feel like Dr. Kline wandering the Backrooms or Nikki crying out for help in her own body; lost, scared, and confronting a ceaseless void. The world is populated by obstacles as inexplicable as that Longlegs killer or whatever new room the Backrooms conjure up. Some of the most popular horror movies defining 2020s cinema reflect that status quo to chilling (and often absorbingly entertaining) effect.

* = Amusingly, 2021's The Forever Purge would somewhat retcon this by revealing that this lady POTUS didn't stay in office for long and soon things reverted to grisly Purge chaos.

Nicolas Cage excels in the ambitious but disjointed Spider-Noir

In his mixed review of Batman Returns, Roger Ebert declared that costumed crime-fighters and films like Double Indemnity could never work intertwined. "No matter how hard you try,” Ebert explained, “Superheroes and film noir don’t go together; the very essence of noir is that there are no more heroes.” Showrunners Oren Uziel and Steve Lightfoot clearly didn't get that memo before embarking on the new TV show Spider-Noir. This entire show is a noir pastiche right down to explicit homages to The Lady in Shanghai and Gilda. It also stars a guy in a Spider-Man suit fighting crime.

Ebert was right to an extent. Superheroes and noir storytelling make for odd bedfellows. Spider-Noir (based on the comics character co-created by David Hine and Fabrice Sapolsky) is a janky creation often struggling to cohesively fuse its disparate creative influences. Sometimes, the proceedings can’t shake off feeling like a fan-film. However, there are distinctive charms here you couldn’t just get from rewatching The Big Sleep.

Taking place in early 1930s New York, with both the Great Depression and prohibition taking their toll on everyone, private investigator Ben Reilly (Nicolas Cage) is looking out for number one. This super-powered guy used to fight crime under the costumed alias The Spider. However, after he failed to save his wife's life, he hung up that mantle and caring about anyone. Now he just takes whatever paying gigs and booze he can get his hands on. Who cares if crime boss Silvermane (Brendan Gleeson) is tearing the city apart?

However, the emergence of super-powered individuals like Flint Marko (Jack Huston) and the alluring spell of nightclub singer Cat Hardy (Li Jun Li) turn Reilly’s world upside down. With the aid of reporter Robbie Robertson (Lamorne Morris) and another investigator, Janet (Karen Rodriguez), Reilly reluctantly begins putting the fedora and mask on again once more. If this was a CBS procedural from 2006, these events would kickstart Reilly investigating a new crime each week. He’d be like Columbo or Charlie from Poker Face, except he shoots webs and crawls up walls.

Unfortunately, Uziel, Lightfoot, and the other writers frustratingly adhere to the modern streaming approach of treating eight-episode-long seasons as lengthy movies. Other comic book shows (like Watchmen or WandaVision) cleverly differentiated one episode from another, like focusing on just one character or unique sitcom aesthetics per outing. Here, episodes blur together and Reilly’s central character arc gets padded out. When will the madness of not letting television function like television end?

Across these eight 40-45-minute-long episodes, though, there are plenty of showcases for Nicolas Cage’s immense acting talents. I presume the Spider-Noir team convinced him to headline a TV show for the first time simply by assuring him he could do Peter Lorre and Edward G. Robinson impressions at different intervals throughout the season. Those delightful digressions epitomize how Spider-Noir constantly lets Nicolas Cage take the sort of quintessentially big acting swings only he can do. A sixth episode bit focused on his jagged and bizarre body movements, he even flings himself to a wall briefly) especially captures this Wild at Heart leading man’s gift for unforgettable physicality.

Spider-Noir works spotlighting Cage echoing old-school movie stars. Unexpectedly, the more conventional superhero fight scenes are also entertaining highlights. A fourth episode skirmish between the titular lead and electricity-spewing Dirk Leydon/Megawatt (Andrew Lewis Caldell), for instance, features creative action beats specific to their respective superpowers (like Megawatt making use of a phone booth). Directors like Nzingha Stewart realize these showdowns with solidly cohesive camerawork and editing, especially compared to the choppy filmmaking in, say, Iron Fist.

How does Spider-Noir balance super-powered beings fighting in New York’s streets with an aesthetic harkening back to Raymond Chandler? Messily! But, to the show’s credit, Uziel, Lightfoot, and company also imbue Spider-Noir with other pre-1960 cultural influences like EC Comics and vintage monster movies. There are tons of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde or Frankenstein anytime Flint Marko/Sandman (Jack Huston) laments about how he’s “a monster.” These eight episodes are a smorgasbord of vintage genre story influences, which inevitably leaves the proceedings feeling scattered.

It does, however, ensure Spider-Noir consistently keeps your attention and, unlike other comic book TV shows, demonstrates a willingness to get weird. While the Inhumans program stripped the titular leads of all their heightened qualities, this show has no problem featuring beasties chomping on Ben Reilly’s arm or making sure the titular lead dons his costume long before the final episode rolls around. That confidence is admirable, ditto the willingness to mimic staples of silent cinema like an iris transition. Even at its messiest, Spider-Noir has creative chutzpah.

It doesn’t hurt that the supporting cast channels Cage’s enthusiasm for this vintage material. Li Jun Li, though underserved by some messy writing, absorbingly embodies the classic femme fatale archetype. Meanwhile, Lamorne Morris is terrific basically headlining his own show depicting Robbie Robertson navigating New York for stories that could get him his Daily Bugle job back. Arguably the show's breakout star is Karen Rodriguez, who compellingly goes toe-to-toe with Reilly at the drop of a hat. She's got moxie evoking classic leading ladies while still injecting Janet with plenty of fresh idiosyncrasies.

Unfortunately, despite getting some talented actors to play them, Spider-Noir’s villains are its weakest part. Not even a legend like Brendan Gleeson can make Silvermane anything more than just Temu Wilson Fisk. There’s shockingly little specificity to this character, a far cry from classic noir baddies played by Charles Laughton or Lionel Barrymore, who were just dripping with personality. Silvermane, meanwhile, just delivers interchangeable monologues about violence driving the world while inhabiting equally indistinguishable lavish locales. Even after eight lengthy episodes, Silvermane remains a generic, shrug-worthy mobster baddie.

Flint Marko is also underwhelming as a complicated foe. Part of that comes from Huston’s miscalculated performance. Unlike Cage, he can’t sell externalized anguish well. It doesn’t help that the writing wringing sad monologues out of Sandman always comes across as unintentionally humorous. Thankfully, Andrew Lewis Caldwell is a delight as Megawatt, an aspiring stage actor turned villain. He's having such a pronounced ball in the role and radiates energy whenever he’s on-screen. Unfortunately, his entertaining maximalism only highlights how other Spider-Noir foes, like Silvermane, are a slog.

The erratically successful villain epitomizes Spider-Noir as a show engaging in constant, sometimes frustrating, tug-of-war. It’s a noir homage also paying tribute to a barrage of other pre-1960 genre storytelling influences. The scripts yearn to get audiences invested in its characters yet struggle to flesh out many of these players beyond classic nori archetypes. Then there’s the innate problem with having a show where Not Phillip Marlowe also engages in big superhero movie-friendly fight scenes. Like Ebert said, noirs and superhero fare are odd bedfellows.

Still, all those colliding creative instincts combined with unapologetically goofy (complimentary) comic book material does yield some fleetingly entertaining fruit. Having Nicolas Cage around anchoring the proceedings certainly doesn’t hurt. While other superhero TV shows attempt to tone down the weirdness of their source material (hello Arrow and Iron Fist!), Cage embraces the material’s innate absurdity with gusto. That’s not enough to fully erase either Spider-Noir’s disjointed nature or its frustrating pacing. This leading man’s commitment, though, ensures Spider-Noir, even in its weakest moments, always goes down swinging. 

Hyperspace Hoopla Could Save Star Wars

I've begun to think that nostalgia is a coping mechanism. Existence is pain. Being alive is often just endless anguish, as concerns over how to pay rent, mental health issues, and other problems dominate our brains. Rarely is there a passage in life devoid of turmoil. Childhood angst eventually gives way to adulthood ennui. However, we can control the past in our brains. We can zero in on a song, a movie, a TV Show, anything that brought us happy feelings and declare it emblematic of "happier" bygone days. When you're existing in the tumultuous present, it's impossible to contort it into something inherently happy. 

Memories, though, can be shaped and altered. We can convince ourselves that 80s music, for instance, was the "greatest" and emblematic of that era being superior. The past is so overwhelming and scary that clinging to nostalgia is often a way of making it bearable. 

The psychology behind this is understandable even if the byproducts of that process are immensely toxic. The 80s, for instance, may have delivered a few songs you connect to fond High School memories. It was also an era housing the AIDS genocide of queer people or President Ronald Reagan normalizing anti-Black rhetoric. We have to confront the messy pain of existence, the small joys that make the present worth living, and the bursts of happiness driving a desire to create a better tomorrow. Becoming calcified in a funhouse mirror vision of yesterday won't make the present and future better. 

This is all a very heavy way of saying: I swear to God, any positive feelings I express here towards Hyperspace Hoopla are not just because "it existed in 2013, therefore it's better than 2026 art." Just like Yoda actually being a wise and powerful Jedi when Luke encounters the "kooky" hermit on Dagobah, there's more going on here than just pining for abandoned Disney World attractions.

What The Kriff is Hyperspace Hoopla?

Hyperspace Hoopla was established in 2008 as part of Star Wars Weekends, an annual event that Disney's Hollywood Studios hosted in Florida's Walt Disney World theme park. This weekend, special walkaround characters, guests, parades, and other events would take place, all themed to that galaxy far, far away. It took over a decade of Star Wars Weekends before Hyperspace Hoopla was created. However, these performances are now some of the most enduringly memorable of this defunct Disney World staple.

Hyperspace Hoopla was a song and dance show typically involving hosts Snig and Oopla guiding audiences through a barrage of familiar Star Wars characters dancing to peppy pop tunes. The 2011 version of Hyperspace Hoopla, for instance, saw Emperor Palpatine showing up to explain that, for Dark Side users, the word "yo" "gives us street cred", Darth Maul dancing to AC/DC's "Back in Black," Jango and Boba Fett sharing the stage together, an Ewok rocking Slash's hair, Darth Vader getting funky to Metallica' "Enter Sandman," and even Oopla quoting Palpatine's "you smell like feet wrapped in burn leathery bacon" quip from Robot Chicken. It's a cross between a fever dream, a Ready Player One-style menagerie of pop culture references, and somewhat par for the course for theme park entertainment.

The entire Hyperspace Hoopla conceit was centered around the "novelty" of watching Star Wars characters singing and dancing along to familiar pop tunes. Once Disney bought Star Wars and planned to make the property inescapable at its theme parks (why confine it just to one weekend?), Star Wars Weekends were dead in the water. Hyperspace Hoopla, which did its final show in 2013 (just months after Disney bought Lucasfilm), was no longer a priority for the Mouse House. Lucasfilm's new owners were emphasizing "brand integrity" above all else. It was time to take Star Wars seriously again, a proposition that also ensured the death of Seth Green's Star Wars: Detours show. In trying to re-establish this universe as one a new generation of kids could get invested in, sillier takes on Star Wars in Detours and Hyperspace Hoopla were jettisoned. Considering Star Wars was synonymous with endless mocking "I don't like sand" memes in the early 2000s, that might not have been the worst idea in the world.

Cut to 2026, though, and everyone takes Star Wars too damn seriously. Disney and Lucasfilm treat the live-action reappearances of random side characters from The Clone Wars as reverently as possible. There's a constant emphasis on "we're doing this for the fans" or slow-motion behind-the-scenes footage set to actors wistfully talking about how much Rotta the Hutt means to them. Meanwhile, Star Wars fandom has somehow gotten even more toxic. Many corners of this fandom have ended up embodying the worst possible versions of nostalgia as they cling to a perception that Disney warped a franchise full of toyetic characters into something "impure." Trying anything new in Star Wars will immediately incur the internet's ire.

Disney no longer has a problem with people not viewing Star Wars seriously. They have the opposite problem: it's all too buttoned-up and glum. Trying anything new is sacrilegious. Meanwhile, characters who originated in Cartoon Network/Disney XD programming are now treated with off-putting veneration. No wonder younger people would rather jump into the more appealing, colorful worlds of various anime programs like One Piece.

Hyperspace Hoopla Could Bring Swinging Fun To All Star Wars Era

Maybe the answer to countering that perception lies in Hyperspace Hoopla. A little over a decade since The Force Awakens debuted, Disney can finally let its hair down when it comes to Star Wars. It's time for something ridiculous that reminds people Star Wars is a franchise aimed at children, that's housed Bea Arthur singing to Mos Eisley Cantina patrons or Wilford Brimley chatting with Ewoks. Not everything has to be all serious all the time. Letting the Star Wars characters dance to Britney Spears, Kendrick Lamar, or Charli XCX could be an over-the-top reminder of that reality. 

Plus, in the 12 years since Hyperspace Hoopla went off to that great Bantha field in the sky, the Star Wars saga has introduced a few new characters these shows could utilize. In her excellent video breaking down the faults of the Forces of Destiny toyline/short films, Jenny Nicholson lamented that, in the interest of maintaining "contuinity," none of the women highlighted in these dolls/shorts could interact. Jyn Erso and Ahsoka Tano, for example, could never rub shoulders with Leia. That problem wouldn't be an issue with Hyperspace Hoopla, which has to throw continuity to the wind so that Jango Fett can shake ass to "WAP".

It could be fun to see all kinds of new Disney-era Star Wars characters, and old favorites, rub shoulders and do something silly together. The Acolyte's Osha and Mae could have a fun dance number with Rey and Fennec Shand to 100 gecs "Dumbest Girl Alive." Perhaps it's time for Darth Maul, Orson Krennic, and Syril Karn to engage in some homoerotic dancing to Lil Nax X's "Industry Baby." Anyone got any great tunes that could unite Wat Tambor, Max Rebo, and Constable Zuvio?  Porgs! My beloved Porgs also must be there! The possibilities are endless. Emphasizing all these characters wouldn't just be fun in making sure the new Hyperspace Hoopla offered sights beyond what its original incarnation delivered.

This could also help unite Star Wars fans, as fans of all corners of the franchise (from the Prequel Trilogy to the Filoni-era shows to the Sequel Trilogy) gather to see their favorite characters engage in outsized song-and-dance routines. Communal art experiences are vital for bringing people from all walks of life together. So much Star Wars media (like The Rise of Skywalker) seems poised to cater towards just toxic corners of this fandom through the isolating realm of streaming television. Hyperspace Hoopla bringing a wide range of Star Wars fans together and homaging all eras of the franchise, though, could be a balm for that problem. "This will begin to make things right," to quote the opening line of The Force Awakens.

Granted, there could be some major problems ingrained into reviving Hyperspace Hoopla. For one thing, 2020s pop music has some deeply terrible artists that I don't want to see come anywhere near Star Wars. Please, do load up the Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, Sabrina Carpenter, SZA, Haim, Chappell Roan, Ethel Caine, Bad Bunny, and various K-Pop legends in terms of modern chart-toppers. However, just because they're popular on the Billboard charts or TikTok trends doesn't grant them automatic access to Hyperspace Hoopla. Morgan Wallen, Tate McRae, Benson Boone, Drake, Ella Langley, Jelly Roll, get that shit out of here. This is a stupid show at Disney World, but it shouldn't be a platform for toxic personalities. 

Hyperspace Hoopla also shouldn't just be a place to shill for or promote new Disney+ Star Wars materials. This should be a place where the Unidentified Hologram Circus from the Star Wars Holiday Special and Bix from Andor live in harmony. This should be a grab-bag of characters from all eras of Star Wars combine to give people song-and-dance routines nobody asked for (complimentary). It shouldn't be just a place where Mando waxes poetic on how cool the new heroes of Ahsoka season two are. Yes, this is a Disney theme park show, meaning promotional impulses are ingrained into the production's Midichlorians, er, bloodstream. However, that doesn't mean a new Hyperspace Hoopla incarnation couldn't at least try to avoid such impulses.

Against All Odds, Hyperspace Hoopla Could Be...A New Hope

I never saw Hyperspace Hoopla in person. My only exposure to it is through videos of these performances that people have uploaded to YouTube. These time capsules provide a striking reminder of how much cynicism and corporate exploitation has permeated the Star Wars brand since the very Luke Skywalker Kenner toy hit store shelves. Obvious problems abound in any one of these performances, right down to the really grating jokes to the obvious song choices. To be quite honest, the show's treatment of women characters is also...not great. Leia dances around in her slave bikini outfit (a garb she was forced to wear at the hands of a slimy sexual predator) while Padme's de facto outfit is her mid-riff-baring Attack of the Clones Geonosis colosseum attire. Skimpiness does not equal "not feminist" or "bad women representation," obviously. 

Those costumes being the only real options for lady Star Wars characters in this show, while also having them dance to Outkast singing "Shake it! Shake it!" in "Hey Ya" just comes off as weird. Not to mention unimaginative! Why can't these gals from a galaxy far, far away do something more? The default role for women in dance numbers is to be subservient to men and blow kisses at male performers. Let's get some more specific choreography out here and distinctive tunes for Leia and Ahsoka Tano to dance to.

Still, even with all these faults bouncing around the proceedings, Hyperspace Hoopla "makes no damn sense...compels me, though", to quote a wise Benoit Blanc. Maybe it's the inherent surrealness of seeing C-3PO lead a "Harlem Shake" performance. Perhaps it's just the absence of similarly goofy Star Wars material at the theme parks or wider Disney machine. A part of this Hyperspace Hoopla affection must stem from nostalgia, always forcing us to look through the past with rose-colored glasses. Yesteryear's torment will suffocate us if we don't make it bearable. 

Above all else, deploying Star Wars characters for pop music cringiness and displays of talented live dancing sure seems like a welcome respite to this franchise's current state. Rigid homages to Filoni-spearheaded cartoons? Get that out of here. Let's get back to having fun with these characters, especially with the vast expansion of canonical characters the Disney Star Wars era has delivered. A new and improved version of Hyperspace Hoopla that takes more risks on music choices (bring on the 100 gecs and Death Grips!) and demonstrates more imagination with how women are portrayed could be a riot. 

In its ideal form, Hyperspace Hoopla could remind Star Wars geeks everywhere that this saga is supposed to be fun. This is all silly nonsense. "The brand integrity days are over," as Florence+The Machine might say. Now it's time for the days of Sebulba and General Grievous twerking to "Thot Shit." Having such hopes for a revamped vision of Hyperspace Hoopla isn't about clinging to the past. It's about improving on the past and creating something new that maybe help Star Wars stave off some of its current woes.

15 Years Ago, The Muppets Began Delivering the Best Parody Trailers Ever

A The Muppets scene involving Rowlf, the best Muppet. I love his ears when they flop around!!

We all know how typical American movie trailers operate. A terrific early 2010s YouTube video played on this familiarity through memorably breaking down the specifics of blockbuster movie trailers. Such staples have remained shockingly consistent in the years since this video's debut. Just watch the Masters of the Universe or Supergirl trailers and tell me this YouTube video isn't still relevant.

This rigid formulaic approach to movie trailers makes it such a welcome treat when movie marketers switch things up by delivering trailers that totally upend expectations. Just in the last two years, the "Boots" 28 Years Later teaser, that initial Weapons teaser, or that memorably meta Love That Remains trailer have proven you can make a modern movie trailer look like anything. Unfortunately, with corporate consolidation, increased creative timidity, and so many other problems plaguing the American film industry, these trailers are few and far between. Great trailers are an artfrom unto themselves. You wouldn't know that, though, if you just watched the trailers inspiring that early 2010s YouTube parody video.

In 2011, though, a Disney legacy sequel, of all things, delivered one of the most creative, entertaining, and distinctive series of trailers for any modern American movie. On this day, 15 years ago, the very first of this film's various parody trailers began screening exclusivley in theaters with Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Gonzo, and all their Muppety friends hadn't been seen in movie theaters for over a decade. The various parody trailers heralding the arrival of The Muppets, though, signaled their return in style. Hollywood hasn't really tried mimicking these parody trailers in the last 15 years, which just makes these marketing materials for The Muppets extra special.

That Very First Muppets Teaser

It's May 20, 2011. You're seated for Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. The trailers are winding down with the titles Disney is choosing to promote on this blockbuster. The first of these trailers is... a Jason Segel/Amy Adams romantic-comedy? Everything about this teaser, from the character's dialogue to the trailer narrator to even the sound effects, says this is a production cut from the same mold as fellow 2011 rom-com's Friends With Benefits, and Something Borrowed. The inspired use of "You Only Get What You Give" really solidifies that audiences must be witnessing a glimpse at the latest Robert Luketic directorial effort.

Then the narrator begins announcing the cast. "Jason Segel." "Amy Adams." "Kermit...the Frog." After also announcing Miss Piggy's presence, Segel grinds the teaser to a halt to ask, "are there Muppets in this movie?" This parody trailer (titled Green With Envy online) then culminates in a montage emphasizing Muppety montage and unveiling the film's title. It's an incredibly fun trailer showing remarkable attention to detail in replicating rom-com trailers. Oh, how fun it must've been to be in a crowded auditorium of people, most totally unaware a new Muppet feature was on the horizon, gradually realizing what this teaser actually was.

Even better, the Green With Envy teaser's rom-com parody carried on the Muppet tradition of zany pop culture pastiches. Never forget Muppet Show staples like Pigs in Space or Veterinarian's Hospital that spoofed Star Trek and daytime soap operas, respectively. One of my favorite supporting Muppet Show players, Uncle Deadly, was introduced as The Phantom of the Muppet Show, an obvious Phantom of the Opera nod. The Rowlf-hosted special Dog City, meanwhile, was heavily indebted to noir films. The Muppets have always lampooned pre-existing art, but not at all in a stupid "look! thing you recognize!" fashion like Aaron Seltzer and Jason Freidberg.

Instead, they build upon pre-existing pop culture staples and archetypes to create gags that work for everyone, regardless of their pop culture knowledge. The Green With Envy teaser, works as a funny short where lovey-dovey material dovetails into Muppet madness even if you're too young to have ever seen a rom-com trailer. With just this first parody trailer, The Muppets established creativity and wit that lived up to the legacy of these characters. Better yet, though, the parody trailers weren't over. Throughout summer 2011, Disney kept dropping further parody trailers skewering hot 2011 titles. Most memorably, the iconic Girl With the Dragon Tattoo teaser spawned a hysterical Muppets parody. This trailer, known as Pig With the Froggy Tattoo, was inspired in its take on the original teaser's music. To boot, Froggy Tattoo delivered with fun gags (like pointing out the trailer's editor hiding as an extra in a large dance scene) that ensured you could laugh with this trailer even if you didn't know Lisbeth Salander from Katniss Everdeen.

Why Didn't Hollywood Mimic This Marketing Approach?

The Muppets marketing team wasn't just doing these parody trailers out of a desire to flip the script on standard American movie marketing techniques. This and other Muppets marketing elements, like the Muppets Fan-A-Thon videos, were intended to exploit the then-booming Facebook and YouTube viral video space. In an age where "Chocolate Rain" was becoming more popular than an average movie trailer, Disney's marketing team opted to go in a new direction. The hope was that people would share these videos all across the biggest social media platforms and get some extra hype going for Disney's big Thanksgiving 2011 release. Plus, if Kermit and pals were seen as "old", what better way to make them relevant than with Facebook-ready viral videos?

Whatever the impetus behind these parody trailers, they were delightful and an incredibly unique creation in the 2011 cinematic landscape. Unfortunately, they've remained a frustrating anomaly in the years since. The Muppets didn't inspire a slew of further motion pictures to take risks with creative trailers nad marketing materials. Even its own sequel, Muppets Most Wanted, only did parodies with TV spots lampooning tweets and "For Your Consideration" ads. Otherwise, the Most Wanted trailers were standard in structure and content. Other motion pictures, meanwhile, eschewed further norm-shattering promotional tactics.

Part of that was because The Muppets directly preceded the "nerd blockbuster" wave. When trailers dropped for new Marvel, DC, or Star Wars projects, studio executives assumed that fans wanted to see actual footage from the proper movie filtered through a reverent tone. The Comic-Con crowd would tar and feather Kevin Feige if he delivered a Captain America: Civil War trailer that was, say, just a parody of the Big Short trailer. Thus, behind-the-scenes featurettes where people on-set ran in slow-motion and talked about how "this one's for the fans" were in. Wackier and more unorthodox trailers were out. 

The decline of the big screen comedy (the perfect genre for these kinds of marketing tactics) also ensured that those Muppets parody trailers from 2011 didn't spawn a bunch of imitators. The Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me teaser that initially seemed to tee up the return of Darth Vader before revealing Dr. Evil, for instance, could only have worked for a silly comedy. Ditto the Dirty Rotten Scoundrels teaser or those bizarre live-action Bee Movie teasers. Those Muppets trailers were following in the footsteps of countless creative comedy movie trailers that used the innate silliness of this genre to try something different in the "coming attractions" section. When studios began backing away from big-screen comedies, such trailers became basically non-existent.

Even if they didn't spawn further marketing risk-taking in the 2010s, The Muppets still delivered some gloriously fun teaser trailers. Speaking as a Muppet fan, the effort and creativity going into these materials remains enduringly moving because they show people actually caring about Kermit and the gang. For much of the 2000s, the Muppets were stuck in a bleak era. Characters like Rowlf and Gonzo were now only good for hawking Pizza Hut or headlining abysmal TV movies like The Muppets' Wizard of Oz. Characters once epitomizing inventive and chaotic comedy were now Madison Avenue shills. At least in the 50s, when Jim Henson's Wilkins and Wontkins were coffee spokespeople (see below), there was plenty of hysterical puppet murder to make the commercials go down smoothly. Now, the Muppets were just hollow vessels for whatever brand paid to use them.

These Muppets teaser trailers, though, indicated that artists hadn't given up on giving these characters genuinely witty material to inhabit. They were good for more than just tired Tin-Man nipple jokes or Denny's commercials. They could make people laugh once more and (provided you were an unsuspecting moviegoer in an opening night On Stranger Tides screening) even surprise them. After so many years of creative stasis, hope had risen once more for the Muppets. What a terrific precursor to the excellent 2011 movie that reminded us all "Life's a Happy Song" while reaffirming the entertainment and value of these characters. Happy 15th anniversary to the start of these parody trailers, which heralded a new era of Muppety joys.

I Can't Stop Thinking About This One Amazing Blue Heron Scene (SPOILERS)

 MASSIVE SPOILERS AHEAD FOR BLUE HERON

Surrendering is a hard thing for people to do. I genuinely think that's the biggest barrier between many people and experiencing unorthodox art. We're conditioned to always treat the world with suspicion. Anything odd is to be feared and deemed potentially dangerous. Thus, when folks are watching films and things take a turn for the formally unexpected, there can be an impulse to throw one's hands up and submit to cynicism. "Why are they singing?" "Why is everything so weird?" "Why are the characters doing that? That isn't logical!" These are the phrases one can utilize when confronted with something new or initially inexplicable. I swear, I'm not saying any of this from a high horse, I've been guilty of that in the past, too. 

However, art that dares to upend expectations and do something unexpected should be treasured, not react with aloofness. The sensation of not knowing what's going on or why things are happening can be scary. But relinquish yourself to the art. Do not react to the unprecedented with cynicism, but rather curiosity.  Surrender to your lack of control or knowledge. You'll discover great art in the process, including Blue Heron.

In this miracle movie from writer/director Sophy Ramvari, Sasha (Amy Zimmer as an adult, Eylul Given as a child) is constantly looking for answers or clarity on her tormented older brother Jeremy (Edik Beddoes). Eventually, her quest leads her to take a ferry and then drive to her childhood home (where Blue Heron's first half took place). Utterly riveted in my Angelika Dallas seat, I was convinced I knew what was happening next. Sasha was about to pull a "The House That Built Me" and return to her adolescent domicile. She'd wander around the space, probably inhabited by a new family, and see if any answers come to her while wandering the familiar halls.

Instead, Sasha gets to her childhood home's door, rings the front doorbell...and is greeted by her Father (Ádám Tompa) as he looked in the sequences set in Sasha's childhood. Adult Sasha introduces herself as a social worker and asks if she can come in. In an unexpected turn, Romvari is recreating an earlier Blue Heron scene where a social worker talked with Sasha's family, but now grown-up Sasha is playing this outside visitor. It took me a moment to realize what was going on and what a glorious experience that was. Romvari doesn't use ham-fisted narration or expository dialogue to clarify what's happening. That would disrupt the realism of the characters. Instead, Blue Heron maintains its understated dialogue approach and lets audiences come to epiphanies over what's going on in their own time.

From here, Sasha's quiet exploration of yesteryear is magnificently realized. In one extended single-take, Sasha (only seen via her hands) sees and gently holds Miss Mousey, her favorite childhood stuffed animal. Then, grown-up Sasha comes into the room where her adolescent self is watching TV with her three siblings (including Jeremy). The two Sashas sit together for a moment before the older member of the duo whispers something into the child's ear. Much like Sasha's expression as she holds Miss Mousey again, what's whispered here is kept away from the audience. That ambiguity works on multiple levels, including mirroring how concrete answers are often elusive when navigating our memories of the past.

After that, the scene concludes with Father and Mother (Iringó Réti) sitting down to talk with Sasha/the social worker about Jeremy and their struggles as parents. Finally, in this segment, Sasha can converse with her parents, a moment she could only hear through a closed door as a child. As the sequence ends, the lines between the past and present blur. At the end of this exchange between parents and social worker, adult Sasha begins relaying to her parents what will happen in the future. They will try to help Jeremy, but "you will lose yourselves." Shortly after, the camera cuts to Sasha watching this conversation from afar, with recurring cuts between young and old Sasha, depending on the shots. 

This fateful day, when a social worker first firmly urged Jeremy to live in another home, is so rooted in Sasha's mind that it feels like it's happening right now. The past is the present when it comes to trauma.

This reality is vividly and distinctively rendered through this mesmerizing sequence that collides two points in time. The way such tremendously tear-inducing material is executed through the quietest material (like a grown woman softly picking up a familiar stuffed animal) is staggering. Best of all, this unforgettable Blue Heron scene didn't hold my hand. Instead, it capsized my expectations and gave me imagery I could never have dreamed of. Huzzah for movies that show faith in audiences and exhibit such potent filmmaking. This is the sort of artistry that makes Blue Heron such a towering and achingly powerful work.

What Are The Five Biggest Summers Ever At The Domestic Box Office?

If these musically inclined teenagers are to be believed, it is indeed "summertime"

Blake Shelton's a terrible musician. 

Christ, he's just awful. 

If you hate your ears and want to eradicate your hearing, may I suggest you pop in "Boys 'Round Here" and listen to his rapping. By the third time he utters "chew tobacco, chew tobacco, spit", you'll want to claw your own eyes out even though music isn't a visual medium. However, credit where credit is due, this stain on music did kick off his career with a genuinely good tune. His first single, "Austin," is a great little narrative song that spins a moving web of a woman calling up her ex-lover's answering machine, which tells callers, "P.S. if this is Austin/I still love you." 

Shelton's modern works have been hillbily kafabe aimed at the eardrums of upper-class people. "Austin" demonstrates a level of emotional vulnerability, not to mention narratively satisfying lyrics, that his subsequent songs haven't come close to matching. It's always hard to recapture the magic of your greatest exploits. 

Just ask the summer box office. While the weaker summer box office hauls of the 2020s haven't been as bad as Shelton's "Hell Right" or "Honey Bee," they've also struggled to live up to the biggest summer box office grosses in history. These particular summers are the "Austin's" that seasons like summer 2026 are always trying to emulate. But what are these summer domestic box office hauls (which consist of money made from May 1 to Labor Day in a given year) that reign supreme? What have been the biggest summers in history at the domestic box office? Journey with me and let's explore the five biggest summer moviegoing seasons at the domestic box office. Who knows, maybe some further country music commentary will even creep its way into the proceedings.

5. 2011 ($4.402 billion)

2011 was a rough year for the domestic box office. The first few months of the year were especially dire, as that year's January and February lacked the early breakout hits that lifted those same months in 2009 and 2010. Gone were Taken, Valentine's Day, and The Book of Eli, in their place were The Roommate, The Rite, and Hall Pass. Reuters would later dub 2011 "a deadly year" in terms of its box office performance, which makes it all the more surprising to remember that summer 2011 was the fifth biggest summer ever at the box office. 

You can chalk that feat up to Hollywood just cramming the season full of weekly massive tentpoles. No wonder Jon Favreau (director of that summer's Cowboys & Aliens) called this scheduling "a bloodbath", as titles like Transformers: Dark of the Moon, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, and Captain America: The First Avenger all opened within a single four-week span. To boot, August, normally a month Hollywood usually abandons, was hopping thanks to hits like Rise of the Planet of the Apes and The Help. It's a bit surprising people found enough time between endless re-listens of "Dirt Road Anthem," "Take a Back Road," and "Old Alabama" to check out so many movies in theaters that summer. However, that's just what happened with summer 2011's jam-packed slate. If you want an illustration of how more major theatrical releases always help the marketplace, just look at how much better summer 2011 performed compared to the year's first three, utterly empty few months.

4. 2018 ($4.412 billion)

A year before Florida Georgia Line's penultimate album unfurled onto store shelves, the summer 2018 box office was thriving. Avengers: Infinity War technically began its historic run a week before summer 2018 began, which means that this summer's proper victor was Incredibles 2 (which temporarily became the biggest animated movie ever domestically). New Jurassic World, Deadpool, Mission: Impossible, and Hotel Transylvania adventures also littered the season and brought in plenty of moolah. This was yet another season demonstrating that a properly lucrative summer box office landscape cannot thrive on May and June blockbusters alone. August 2018 brought plenty of major moneymakers to the table, including Crazy Rich Asians, The Meg, and even Christopher Robin.

Here's an eerie portrait of how much Disney was now dominating the cinematic landscape circa. 2018: ten years earlier, in summer 2008, the Mouse House only released two of the season's 12 biggest movies. A decade later, that number had doubled to four and one other film amongst summer 2018's top 12 (Deadpool 2) came from a studio Disney was in the process of buying. That corporate domination has now ballooned to also include Paramount potentially gobbling up Warner Bros. and beloved studios like 20th Century Fox being shells of their former selves. Back in summer 2018, A.K.A. the summer of Gotti, the box office vibes were as upbeat as the tone in the George Jones song "Finally Friday." "Let the good times roll," as Jones once crooned, presumably before he sat down to watch Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again.

3. 2015 ($4.476 billion)

Dinosaurs ruled the planet millions of years ago. For the summer of 2015, though, these prehistoric beasties were also on top once more. Jurassic World was by far the biggest movie of the summer with $647.37 million. Already, one can see Hollywood's consolidation and reliance on fewer, bigger titles taking place this season. Summer 2015 only produced 12 movies that grossed $100+ million domestically, compared to 15 in 2009 and a whopping 17 in 2008. The top films were the ones picking up a lot of the slack, which included four mega-titles making $300+ million each domestically. Rather than unleashing many movies making $100-120 million each, Hollywood was pinning more and more of its hopes on titles cracking $200+ million a piece.

As priorities shifted, though, the raw summertime grosses remained hearty. Non-sequels even made up five of this summer's 12 biggest movies, including Inside Out and Straight Outta Compton. This massive summer proved integral to making 2015 the first year in history to hit $11+ billion at the annual domestic box office. Why, the movies were almost as popular this summer as Craig Morgan's "Redneck Yacht Club." I've never thought about it before, but what a class-based nightmare that social gathering would be. Lots of white people with strong opinions on people of color and gays, all insisting they're simple country folk while rocking enough money to own a yacht. Just throw me into the jaws of the Indominus Rex right now. Anyway, moving all of our brains over to more cheerful waters, summer 2015, even with a more limited slate of new movies, still managed to hit some major financial highs. 

At the time, 2015 even delivered the second biggest summer box office haul ever, though it would soon relinquish that title to...

2. 2016 ($4.491 billion)

Sometime in the late 1960s, Merle Haggard put pen to paper (or fingertips to keyboard) and translated his own experiences in prison into the song "Mama Tried." A tune full of lamenting, it was infused with the kind of regret Hollywood was NOT feeling as summer 2016 was winding down.  Unfortunately, this was a summer that seemed to suggest the studios' shifting towards only tentpole sequels all the time could produce incredibly lucrative results. Captain America: Civil War and Suicide Squad were the two biggest live-action movies of the summer, and each grossed $300+ million domestically. Finding Dory was the season's champ and finally dethroned Shrek 2 after 12 years as the biggest animated movie ever in North America with its $486 million domestic cume. The Secret Life of Pets was the third biggest title of the season with $368.6 milion. 

In a startling reflection of how the divie between the "haves" and "have nots" was growing, Jason Bourne rounded out the top five that summer with "only" $162.43 million. Just six years earlier, in summer 2010, the fifth biggest movie of the summer (Despicable Me) cracked $250+ million domestically. Hollywood executives thought relying on fewer and fewer reliable moneymakers was a dream come true...but what happens when those "moneymaker" franchises start producing bombs like The Marvels and The Flash? That and the summer's deluge of bloated box office bombs producing more massive money-losers than a typical summer season (howdy Independence Day: Resurgence, Alice Through the Looking Glass, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows, Ben-Hur, and The BFG) should've given the studios some perspective that a $180+ million budget isn't enough to produce an automatic hit.

Still, experiencing the second biggest summer ever domestically was the kind of event that clouded judgment. The season's massive box office haul, which was also aided by original comedy hits like Central Intelligence and Bad Moms, signaled a victory of sorts for Hollywood's new cinema priorities. It also suggested that the big screen still held plenty of appeal even as Netflix was beginning to ramp up its original television offerings (don't forget, Stranger Things premiered this summer). No wonder movie theater owners and studio executives weren't channeling the mood of Merle Haggard writing "Mama Tried."

1. 2013 ($4.754 billion)

I don't think the world will ever see a summer moviegoing season as big as summer 2013. For one thing, this season's $4.754 billion haul is just so strikingly ahead of all other seasons (it's $263 million higher than summer 2016, the second biggest summer ever in raw dollars). 2019, the last "normal" before COVID wrecked shop, made $430 million less than this season*. It's just going to be hard to recreate the circumstances that made summer 2013 so immensely powerful, including the scheduling that delivered one mega-hit after another on a weekly basis. If Jon Favreau thought summer 2011 was packed, hoo boy, summer 2013 was a whirlwind. Iron Man 3, The Great Gatsby, Star Trek Into Darkness, The Hangover: Part III, and Fast & Furious 6 alone all dropped within the first four weeks of May 2013. That was the summer kick-off!

Iron Man 3 (the only movie of the summer to make $400+ million domestically) was easily the season's victor, but the wealth was surprisingly spread out all across this entire moviegoing landscape. A whopping 19 summer 2013 movies cracked $100+ million domestically, nine of which were either completely original works or non-sequels based on source material that had never been adapted into movies before. Sure, new Iron Man, Superman, and Despicable Me movies reigned supreme this season. However, The Heat and The Conjuring outgrossing The Lone Ranger and The Smurfs 2 made it clear that ideas that resonate with viewers are more important than familiar brand names and excessive scope.

The wide array of projects and genres available on the big screen fueled summer 2013 to massive historic box office heights. Given that the major studios are hesitant to release movies like This Is The End or The Heat these days, it's doubtful summer 2013's historic box office haul can ever be replicated. Making $4.7 billion in a single summer happens when tons of new movies are in play, not just Iron Man 3 and Star Trek Into Darkness. Even Blue Sky's Epic (whose $107.45 million 2013 gross would be $152.31 million in 2026 dollars) is the kind of box office performer the marketplace needs more of now (it'd be a shame if Epic's animation studio got destroyed by a major conglomerate).

I've sometimes said 2014 was the final year for a certain era of Hollywood (The Hollywood Reporter recently said something similar, albeit in relation to TV ratings). Last year without Netflix making and distributing original movies. The final year (until the end of the decade) without an MCU movie grossing $800+ million worldwide. The final year without a new annual Star Wars movie until 2020. Lots of massive changes were on the horizon for Hollywood that would really arrive in 2015. Summer 2013, then, was, in hindsight, a bit of a "one last big bash" before the status quo's upending. Comedies were still massive. Original films made up nearly half of summer 2013's $100+ million grossers. Major new releases dropped nearly every week. Those elements would quickly become scarcer, but in summer 2013, they felt like an inherent part of America's cinematic tapestry.

No wonder summer 2013, the summer box office's equivalent to "Austin," was so massive in raw box office numbers that it doesn't feel like any subsequent summer moviegoing season will ever dethrone it. Summer 2026 is off to a rollicking start thanks to The Devil Wears Prada 2 and Michael, but even this season will need a miracle to come anywhere close to $4.7 billion. It's hard to top your highest of highs. Just ask Blake Shelton. Hey, at least none of the subsequent summer box office hauls have been as embarrassing as "Boys 'Round Here."

* = If Avengers: Endgame had stuck to its original May 3, 2019 release date and grossed the $474 million it made in April 2019 in summer 2019 instead, that alone would've been enough to make summer 2019 the biggest summer ever.