Warner Bros. just released the full trailer for Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s Digger, which is kind of giving off a mix of Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove and some classic Coen Brothers fare. It also features more of the cast, which includes Riz Ahmed (Sound of Metal), Sandra Hüller (Project Hail Mary), John Goodman (Kong: Skull Island), Emma D’Arcy (HBO’s House of the Dragon), Sophie Wilde (Talk to Me), Robert John Burke (HBO’s The Last of Us), Jesse Plemons (Bugonia), a trio of Guillermo Del Toro actors in Burn Gorman (Pacific Rim), Corey Johnson (Hellboy) and Michael Stuhlberg (The Shape of Water).
Tom Cruise’s character looks like he sets off a chain of events that he’ll have to set right, though how, we’ll have to find out when the film premieres later this year.
Food Wars is one of those anime that feels like it should be ridiculous on paper, but somehow turns that absurdity into part of its charm. Across its five seasons, it blends intense cooking battles, over-the-top reactions, and shameless fan service into a series that is equal parts culinary hype machine and anime guilty pleasure.
What makes Food Wars stand out right away is how seriously it treats food while never taking itself too seriously as a show. The cooking scenes are loaded with detail, and the anime clearly loves showing off the textures, colors, and techniques behind every dish. Even when the plot gets wild, the series keeps circling back to a genuine appreciation for cooking, competition, and creativity, which gives it more heart than you might expect from an anime known for clothes literally exploding off people after a good bite.
Anyone who has grown up watching the high-octane drama of Iron Chef—whether the original Japanese production or the iconic American version on The Food Network—will feel right at home with the structure of this show. Much like those classic programs, Food Wars relies on a foundation of thematic ingredient requirements, ticking clocks, and an intense panel of judges waiting to dissect every flavor. The “Shokugeki” battles, or culinary duels, capture that same competitive spirit where a single secret ingredient or a daring last-minute pivot can be the difference between legendary status and total failure.
One of the most defining aspects of the series is how it effectively gamifies the entire culinary experience, turning every kitchen session into a high-stakes arena. The show treats cooking like a complex strategy game where each ingredient choice acts as a tactical move and every technique serves as a power-up. This framing forces the audience to view food not just as sustenance, but as a weapon or a defense, making the act of creation feel as tense and strategic as a combat sequence in any traditional action series.
This competitive spirit extends directly into the tasting sequences, which are arguably the most iconic parts of the entire five-season run. When a judge takes a bite, the show transforms the experience into a sensory battleground where the flavors represent different forces, emotions, or even elemental powers that clash on the palate. By turning flavor profiles into visual and psychological challenges, the show ensures that tasting isn’t just about appreciation—it is a judgment call that defines the character’s growth, pride, and survival in the cutthroat atmosphere of Totsuki Academy.
At the center of it all is Souma Yukihira, a protagonist who is easy to root for because he is confident without feeling smug. He is the kind of main character who thrives on pressure, and the show uses him well as an engine for momentum. Every challenge becomes a chance to watch him improvise, adapt, and push himself in a way that keeps the series moving fast. He is not some brooding genius or chosen one; he is just a stubborn, talented cook who wants to prove himself, and that makes the whole competition structure more fun.
The supporting cast is a big reason the anime works as well as it does. Erina starts off as icy and intimidating, but the series gradually gives her more depth, letting her grow beyond the “judge with a famous tongue” gimmick into someone with real emotional weight. The Polar Star Dorm crew adds a lot of personality and warmth, giving the story a sense of community that balances out the cutthroat tournament energy. Even when the show leans into exaggerated comedy, the characters usually feel distinct enough that their rivalries and friendships stay entertaining.
One of the show’s biggest selling points is obviously the fan service, and Food Wars does not pretend otherwise. It uses exaggerated reactions, dramatic body language, and suggestive imagery as a kind of visual shorthand for how amazing the food tastes. That approach is part joke, part spectacle, and part stylistic identity. For some viewers, that is the whole appeal; for others, it is the thing that makes the anime hard to recommend without a warning label. Still, the series is self-aware enough that the fan service feels tied to its outrageous personality rather than just being randomly thrown in.
The first season probably captures the show’s identity best because it still has that fresh mix of school-life fun, cooking creativity, and escalating rivalry. The early arcs feel energetic and focused, with each battle building on the last and giving the cast room to establish who they are. As the series moves forward, it gets more dramatic and more tournament-heavy, which is both a strength and a weakness. On one hand, the stakes rise and the clashes feel bigger; on the other, the show can start to feel like it is repeating its own formula with just enough variation to keep going.
By the middle seasons, Food Wars becomes more polished in some ways and more excessive in others. The food presentation remains impressive, and the battles often feel like mini sports dramas, but the storytelling starts to lean harder into anime logic, rival schools, overblown power scaling, and increasingly ridiculous cooking showdowns. That is not necessarily a bad thing, because the whole series is built on heightened reality, but it does mean the emotional impact depends a lot on whether you are fully onboard with the show’s specific brand of chaos.
The final season is where opinions tend to split the hardest. Some viewers feel it loses the magic and becomes more generic battle shounen than cooking anime, while others still see it as a satisfying enough conclusion that keeps the core spirit alive. There are still character moments worth caring about, especially around Souma and Erina, and the show does try to give the story a proper sense of closure. Even so, it is hard to ignore that the later stretch does not hit the same high point as the earlier seasons, especially when the novelty of the format starts wearing thin.
What keeps Food Wars from collapsing under its own absurdity is that it genuinely understands the appeal of competition. The anime is about food, yes, but it is also about pride, craft, ambition, and the need to prove yourself through skill. That gives it a surprisingly strong backbone underneath all the comedy and fan service. When it is working at its best, the show makes cooking feel like a high-stakes art form, where one meal can define a relationship, a reputation, or a future.
In the end, Food Wars is the kind of anime you watch because you want something loud, stylish, and a little indecent, but you stay because it actually cares about the process of cooking and the people doing it. It is messy, exaggerated, and sometimes way too horny for its own good, but that is also why it sticks in your memory. Across five seasons, it delivers a strange but effective mix of genuine culinary admiration and total anime nonsense, and that combination is exactly what makes it such a recognizable cult favorite.
Walter Hill’s Brewster’s Millions (1985) isn’t a perfect movie by any stretch, but it’s the kind of film that sneaks up on you. It may not be sharp enough to qualify as great satire or consistent enough to hit every comedic note, but it has an undeniable charm that pulls you in regardless. It’s loud, uneven, and often ridiculous, yet few comedies from the 1980s are as weirdly entertaining when they’re firing on all cylinders. For many movie fans, it’s that quintessential “guilty pleasure”—a film you know has problems, but that somehow feels impossible to turn off once it starts. And in many ways, that’s exactly where Brewster’s Millions finds its lasting appeal.
The setup alone is too fun to resist. Richard Pryor stars as Montgomery Brewster, a minor league baseball pitcher who unexpectedly inherits the opportunity of a lifetime—to claim a $300 million fortune from a distant relative. The catch? Before he can get it, he has to spend $30 million in 30 days under a bizarre set of conditions that make financial ruin easier said than done. He can’t give the money away, can’t destroy it, can’t buy assets or investments that retain value, and can’t tell anyone why he’s doing it. Fail, and he gets nothing. Succeed, and he becomes one of the richest men alive. It’s the sort of gleefully absurd premise that could only have come from Hollywood in the 1980s, and it’s immediately clear that the film wants audiences to sit back, grab some popcorn, and watch Pryor tear through cash in increasingly funny and desperate ways.
Richard Pryor is, without doubt, the heart and soul of the movie. He imbues Montgomery Brewster with equal parts manic energy and human frustration, giving the character a real emotional arc beneath all the comic spectacle. Pryor’s talent for blending humor with exasperation makes Brewster’s predicament believable, even when it’s insane. Watching him scramble to lose money while the world keeps rewarding him is strangely satisfying. Pryor understood how to play ordinary men caught in extraordinary circumstances, and that quality grounds the film when it could have easily spiraled into total silliness. In scenes where he loses his patience with accountants, schemes wild spending sprees, or watches his good intentions backfire, Pryor’s comic timing keeps the chaos enjoyable.
John Candy adds another layer of charm as Brewster’s best friend and teammate, Spike Nolan. Candy brings warmth, loyalty, and that unmistakable good-heartedness that made him one of the decade’s most beloved comedic actors. The chemistry between Pryor and Candy keeps the film buoyant even through its weaker stretches. Their friendship defines the film’s tone—it’s loose, goofy, and full of bro-ish camaraderie. Without Candy’s infectious energy, the movie’s more hollow comedic beats might have hit the floor with a thud. Together, they create a dynamic that feels real, even inside a premise that’s totally absurd.
As a director, Walter Hill feels like an odd fit for this kind of broad comedy, but that’s part of what makes Brewster’s Millions interesting. Hill, better known for tough, kinetic action films like The Warriors and 48 Hrs., approaches this farce with a surprising amount of structure and visual precision. The film looks slicker and sharper than most comedies of its kind, which gives the excess on-screen an unintentionally epic flair. Hill’s direction keeps the story moving, and though he’s not naturally a comedic filmmaker, his grounded style adds a peculiar edge to all the craziness. It’s chaos with discipline—an aesthetic that somehow works in the movie’s favor.
Still, Brewster’s Millions can’t quite escape its shortcomings. The pacing is uneven, especially in the middle, where the film loses some steam as Brewster cycles through increasingly repetitive spending gimmicks. The story flirts with satire but rarely commits, brushing up against deeper commentary on wealth, politics, and capitalism before retreating to the comfort of broad comedy. The “Vote None of the Above” subplot, where Brewster’s money-wasting political campaign taps into voter cynicism, is one of the smartest parts of the film—but it’s introduced and resolved too quickly to leave a mark. And while the movie is full of lively energy, not every gag lands; a few supporting performances veer into caricature, and some jokes feel very much of their time.
Yet these flaws are partly what make Brewster’s Millions such a delightful guilty pleasure. It’s the cinematic equivalent of junk food—high on calories, low on nutritional value, but deeply enjoyable all the same. Pryor’s constant exasperation, the sheer absurdity of trying to “waste” money legally, and the exaggerated set pieces (like the overblown parties or his failed attempts to lose at gambling) make for irresistible entertainment. Even when the humor dips into predictable territory, the concept keeps pulling you back in. There’s a giddy satisfaction in watching Brewster try—and fail—to lose money, especially because the universe just won’t let him.
The romance subplot with Lonette McKee’s character, Angela Drake, adds just enough heart to balance the absurdity. McKee gives a grounded, intelligent performance that prevents the love story from feeling tacked on, even if it never fully takes center stage. Her presence keeps Brewster tethered to some kind of reality, and the moral through-line—learning that not everything valuable can be bought—lands gently rather than preachily. It’s not profound, but it fits the breezy tone perfectly.
As a comedy of excess, Brewster’s Millions is very much a product of its time. The slick suits, the gaudy parties, the blind faith in wealth, and the Reagan-era optimism about money’s moral neutrality all ooze from every frame. That time-capsule quality is part of its modern appeal. Watching it today, you can’t help but smile at how on-the-nose it feels—a movie from the “greed is good” decade that accidentally ends up mocking the very mindset it sprang from. It’s self-aware only in flashes, but those flashes are enough to make you recognize the movie’s satirical edge hiding beneath its loud surface.
In the end, that’s what makes Brewster’s Millions endure as a lovable guilty pleasure. It has flaws you can’t ignore—uneven pacing, scattershot tone, underdeveloped ideas—but none of them outweigh its charm. Pryor’s comic genius makes even the weakest joke land better than it should. Candy’s warmth keeps the film light. And Hill’s straightforward direction infuses the lunacy with just enough realism to make it believable. The result is a movie that’s too silly to take seriously but too fun to dismiss. You watch it, laugh at its audacity, shake your head at the logic gaps, and yet somehow come away smiling.
Brewster’s Millions may not be a comedy classic, but it’s easy to see why people keep revisiting it. It’s comfort food cinema—lighthearted, clumsy, and endlessly watchable. And like all the best guilty pleasures, it doesn’t need to be perfect to make you happy. Sometimes, seeing Richard Pryor outsmart the meaning of money for two hours is more than enough.
Happy Birthday, Nicolas Cage. If you’re an older Millennial or Young Gen X, you saw “Raising Arizona” about 100 times on Showtime and HBO because I believe that it was very inexpensive to license. The film was a hard left turn for the Coen Brothers who had major success with “Blood Simple” – a brutal thriller- that turned all women off to Fat Southern Murderers forever. The Coen thrillers tended to have comedic edge after Raising Arizona, but never just a comedy again- until The Big Lebowski. This film is also responsible for John Goodman. Prior to this film he was in mostly small parts, then after this picture- he became a household name in Roseanne.
Nicolas Cage is a made up name. He is Francis Coppola’s nephew and I can’t fault him for mayonnaising his name because my Italian ancestors did as well. However, I believe that he was trying to hide the Coppola name more than his heritage. Speaking of Italian heritage, try “Groking” “Italian American Jersey Girl” in grok. The lady who appears is beautiful, but doesn’t look like any of my Aunts. I feel that I should advocate for my people- We trend good looking and gave you Pizza Friday! Come on, show some love!
The film’s premise is that H.I. McDonnough (Nicolas Cage) is an ex con who is addicted to robbing the same convenience store again and again and again. This may seem strange, but in another life, I did criminal defense and I had a client who would steal the same jacket from the same store every year. Edwina “Ed” (Holly Hunter) is a cop who processes H.I. again and again. Each time, he flirts with her. His last time as a convict in front of her- her fiancé left her. H.I. realizes that he must go straight to get her love.
After his jail time, he returns as a free man to get his love- “Ed”. It works! They have a great life, but they want a child and yet she can’t conceive. The solution: they will kidnap a baby from the owner of Gallery Furniture! If you were from Texas, you would’ve laughed! They get the kid and are pursued by all sorts of people who want to claim the reward for the kidnapped baby.
This very intricate plot is just the first 30 minutes of the film. It is truly funny. I always felt for these character because good people should have LOTS OF KIDS- as many as possible! They shouldn’t have to pay taxes or anything. This film is special to me for another reason: it is when the Boomers were still young and filled with hope. Now, we are losing them and it hurts. This film is a glimpse of what they were like before the grey and how much they yearned for a good family on their own terms.
Hi Horror and Case Lovers! So, I could not find a title card image for this short, but clowns scare the $#!% out of me so here we are. Just remember, that’s their real skin, not makeup. The oversized shoes and red nose are just to get you to let your guard down before they kill you! Now, you are able to face the world once again!
The short begins with a college student doing some cleaning at home. He checks the hallways and he sees…. yes a clown! Damn it! WHY?! WHY?!
Clowns, between you and me – why are you even a thing? I know what motivates you to make people mess their pants regardless of the season- you must feed, but why?! Can’t you just be anything else and still feast upon the living?
The Clown confronts the young man and…. he tries to kill him with a crowbar, but the would-be victim fights back with GUNS!!! Yes, GUNS ARE THE ANSWER! GUNS! They are Clown Repellent! They are Clown-Be-Gone! The Crowbar vs Clown is pretty effective too.
Now, is this short the result of two bored frat guys? Probably, but I’m ok because clowns are a menace! Yes, it ends with a gun solving the Clown Menace! This short worked for me!
Everyone has one movie or two that hit them so hard it caused them to develop habits. It could be shaking your shoes to confirm no spiders are in them, counting the seconds after a lightning strike for the thunder, or checking the back seat of your car before you get into it, just in case. Some movies kind of imprint themselves on you in different ways.
Beware! The Blob (or Son of The Blob in some circles) was the most terrifying film I saw as a kid. I watched it in front of my grandmother’s living room tv that had a little alarm clock on the floor beneath it. Unlike Friday the 13th and Halloween, where I could rationalize my fears, Beware! The Blob had me fearing the summer and any open crevice we had. On any visits to our local video store (in the Pre-Blockbuster days), I’d pick out video games to rent and could see the box for the film in the horror section. I’d never walk over there, even in my early teenage years.
Most consider the 1958 original a Classic, and Chuck Russell’s 1988 update often goes toe to toe with John Carpenter’s The Thing on the Best Remakes list. Beware! The Blob will probably never make that list, but it’s not a total loss, given a recent rewatch. The film’s greatest strengths are in the casting and the special effects. From a cinema history/trivia standpoint, the film marks one of the earliest credits for Cinematographer Dean Cundey. Cundey worked as a 2nd Unit Cinematographer for the film, particularly with the animal shots in the opening and later on. That might not sound like much, but Cundey would go on to be picked by Debra Hill to help out on Halloween in 1978. From there, he had The Fog, Halloween II, The Thing, Romancing the Stone, Back to the Future, Big Trouble in Little China, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and Jurassic Park, to name a few.
With 14 years since the first film, there were some tech upgrades to how the blob was made. A large plastic balloon was used for some scenes (particularly the bowling alley sequences). Additionally, silicone was added to a drum to allow for the “blob pov” during the bowling alley sequences. In most sequences, a red dyed powder mixed with water was used. To make sure the audience was aware the Blob was close, a high whistle would sound, giving anyone with even the slightest bit of tinnitus some cause to look over their shoulder. Academy Award Winner Tim Baar (The Time Machine) and Conrad Rothmann worked on the effects, along with Cundey.
In his film directing debut, Larry Hagman (TV’s I Dream of Jeannie, Dallas) weaves a tale of horror lurking through a town peppered with parties, hobos, a boy scout team, an angry bowling alley owner, some dune buggy aficionados and a sheriff (Richard Webb, The Phantom Stagecoach) who’s a little confused about some of the events happening in town. To his credit, it’s amazing to see who Hagman assembled here, as he called in some friends to join in on the fun. Comedian Godfrey Cambridge. Cindy Williams, just a few years shy ofAmerican Graffiti. Gerrit Graham, about two years before Phantom of the Paradise. Sid Haig (The Devil’s Rejects) is here as well. You can even spot Hagman in the film as one of three hobos squaring off with the Blob. It should be noted that the other two hobos with him are Burgess Meredith (Clash of the Titans) and Del Close (Chuck Russell’s The Blob).
The film flows like it’s namesake, with some chapters having little do to with anything – Dick Van Patten’s boy scouts, while funny, could have had one of their scenes cut for speed. It’s not incredibly terrible, but it’s exactly great, either. Most of the script, written by Anthony Harris, was tossed with ad-libbing done on set. Despite all this, it does looks like the cast enjoyed themselves making the film. It has that going for it, at least.
Sid Haig was caught unaware in Larry Hagman’s Beware! The Blob
Chester, A construction worker from the Arctic (Cambridge) is getting his camping gear stowed away when his wife, Marlene (Marlene Clark, The Beast Must Die) discovers a thermos in their freezer. He explains he performed some work and brought home a piece of what the found in the Arctic. Setting it on a countertop, the couple forget about the thermos, which pops open. The newly released blob absorbs a fly and a kitten before moving on to larger prey. Before we know it, Chester is having problems with his TV – which happens to be playing the original 1958 movie – as it slithers into his favorite recliner. It’s a sequence that’s burned into my mind. I always check a chair before sitting in it. Some check for thumbtacks, I check for alien goo.
When Lisa (Gwynne Gilford, Masters of the Universe & actor Chris Pine’s Mom) discovers Chester with his new friend, she dashes out and heads to her boyfriend, Bobby (Robert Walker, Easy Rider). By the time the couple return to Chester’s place, they find the house empty. Can the couple convince the cops and the town of the danger ahead before it’s too late? Most of Beware! The Blob‘s scenes are set up in a way where people are completely oblivious of it until it’s touched them, causing said individual to slip and fall into the camera. The climax of the film takes place in a bowling alley, which is actually impressive for the techniques used, but even with the casting, you might spend more time laughing than anything else. Perhaps that’s my way of rationalizing the film years later.
At the time of this writing, Beware! The Blob is currently available to watch on the Plex streaming service. We’re also labeling this an Incident – out of respect to the kitten – and returning the timer to Zero.
Baseball movies are as American as apple pie, and everyone has their favorites, from classic era films like THE PRIDE OF THE YANKEES and TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME to latter-day fare like THE NATURAL and FIELD OF DREAMS. There’s so much to choose from, comedies, dramas, and everything in-between. One of my all-time favorites is 1993’s coming of age classic, THE SANDLOT.
Like most baseball movies, THE SANDLOT is about more than just The Great American Pastime. Director David Mickey Evans’ script (co-written with Robert Gunter) takes us back to 1962, as young Scotty Smalls has moved to a brand new neighborhood in a brand new city. His dad died, and his mom (Karen Allen of NATIONAL LAMPOON’S ANIMAL HOUSE fame) has remarried preoccupied Bill (young comedian Denis Leary…. hmmm, I wonder what ever happened to him??), who tries to teach the nerdy kid how to play…
Sometimes while scrolling through the channels one come across a pleasant surprise. So it’s Saturday afternoon,a thundershower has cancelled my plan to hit the beach, the Red Sox don’t start for awhile, and I’m clicking the old clicker when I land on WELCOME TO MOOSEPORT. I wasn’t expecting much, just a way to kill time; instead, I found an underrated little gem of a comedy that kept me watching until the very end.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying WELCOME TO MOOSEPORT is an undiscovered classic or anything like that. It’s just a solidly made piece of entertainment about small-town life starring Ray Romano (riding high at the time thanks to his successful sitcom EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND) and Oscar winning Gene Hackman. Romano uses his nebbishy TV persona to portray Mooseport, Maine’s local hardware store owner “Handy” Harrison, who gets involved in a mayoral campaign against Hackman’s Monroe “Eagle”…
If comedy is a gift, then Tim Conway was America’s Santa Claus, delivering bags full of laughter directly into our homes for over fifty years. The cherubic Conway, who died May 14 at age 85, was mainly known for his television work, but also starred in films, on stage, and in the home video field, making him a true Renaissance Man of Comedy.
Tim and Ernie “Ghoulardi” Anderson
Young Tim got his start in his hometown of Cleveland, not exactly a hotbed of humor (with apologies to Jim Backus, Kaye Ballard, and British transplant Bob Hope ), writing and appearing in skits with local TV personality Ernie Anderson during breaks in a morning movie show. Anderson himself would later gain fame as a horror host (Cleveland’s Ghoulardi) and a network announcer, ‘The Voice of ABC’ (“Tonight on The Loooo-ve Boat….”).
Comic actress Rose Marie, on a cross-country tour promoting THE…
As the world still mourns the loss of Doris Day yesterday, another great has left us – TV comedy genius Tim Conway, who died today at age 85. Tim rightfully deserves a tribute post of his own, and he’ll get it, but until then, enjoy this classic bit of comedy gold from THE CAROL BURNETT SHOW (and watch Harvey Korman try to keep a straight face!):
Through the Shattered Lens 