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The Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has been lackluster since the epic battle in "Avengers: Endgame." There has been an online discussion about how fans have been eager for the next chapter, yet the post-Endgame films have been mixed-some are even disasters. While some MCU entries dazzle with the multiverse and celestial stakes, the franchise is weighed down by convoluted and chaotic plots or a string of new characters struggling to find their footing. Then comes Thunderbolts*, a film that breathes new life into the MCU by putting the characters front and center. Highlighting more about the soul of the characters and less about spectacle might just be what the franchise needs for a fresh start.

Thunderbolts* introduces us to a ragtag team of antiheroes and misunderstood figures who campaign to become the "new Avengers*." The film follows the misfits-Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), Red Guardian (David Harbour), John Walker (Wyatt Russell), Ava Starr (Hannah John-Kamen), and the ever-charming Bob (Lewis Pullman)-who are far from our typical all-American superheroes, these characters are flawed, complicated, and deeply human. They are not just a team assembled to fight a powerful villain; each character arrives with their own emotional baggage, motivations, and personal demons to fight with. The film's biggest win lies in its writing and characterization. It's a superhero story that feels intimate, almost indie in its approach, focusing on the humane side of the superheroes. Instead of highlighting their intimidating superpower or having side characters as plot devices, the film focuses on who these people are beneath the masks and powers they possess. The characters don't feel like archetypes; they feel like real people you could meet on the streets-people with deep emotional wounds, hopes, regrets, and doubts.

In all its ways, Thunderbolts* feels like a passing of the torch. The former Avengers have largely stepped back, and this new team is poised to take their place, not because they fit a mold, but because they represent something more complex and nuanced, which has been missing in the post-Endgame MCU films. These are the heroes with messy parts, trying to find their way in a world that doesn't quite trust them.

If you're like me and crave an MCU film that invests in character arcs as much as it does in action sequences and complex multiverse tropes, Thunderbolts excels. Each character has a complete storyline, yet leaves room for future development. Yelena is struggling with loss and identity; Bucky carries the weight of his past as the Winter Soldier; Red Guardian faces his struggles with family and legacy; and John Walker is grappling with his role as a sanctioned hero. Bob or The Sentry/Void added a unique flavor, bringing elements of vulnerability, depth, and humor that balance the darker tone of his character.

What's remarkable is how the film injects depth into these characters without ever sacrificing the pacing or excitement. The arcs are poignant and relatable, where you'll find yourself caring about their journeys and rooting for their growth and redemption. Of course, it wouldn't be a superhero film without the villain, but even the "villain" is handled with nuance. Instead of a cardboard cutout antagonist, the film offers a character who fits into the larger MCU puzzle pieces, hinting at an evolving narrative. This subtlety makes the conflict feel organic rather than forced.

There's no denying that Florence Pugh is "THAT" girl. Her performance was undeniably the film's emotional core. Acting alongside her is David Harbour, who played Flo's father; their portrayal of a fractured, complicated father-daughter relationship adds another layer of raw emotion, which is seldom seen in a superhero film. The dynamics between their characters are a standout, filled with hilarious, touching, and painful moments. The film does not shy away from exploring the themes of trauma, loneliness, and the longing for connection. These aren't just throwaway lines or backstory elements; they're woven perfectly into the fabric of the characters and the narrative. The honesty in their interactions gives the film a surprising emotional weight, grounding the fantastical elements in a real human experience.

The previous MCU releases have had issues with the writing, making their characters look like caricatures in their own film. Take "Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania" as an example, where the film solely relies on silly jokes or forced humor to defuse profound moments. Instead, in Thunderbolts*, the humor respects the gravity of its themes-trauma, redemption, trust, and identity-while still delivering moments of levity that feel earned and natural.

If the DC Universe's *Suicide Squad* leaned into chaotic antihero antics with a wild, almost manic energy, Thunderbolts* might be described as the "Depressed Squad." The film embraces the imperfections and vulnerabilities of its characters rather than glossing over them. This grounded approach makes the stakes feel more personal and the characters more relatable.

The film doesn't fall into the trap of overcomplicating its story with multiverse chaos or quantum physics jargon, which is refreshing after the disastrous "Captain America: Brave New World." If you binge-watch all of the MCU films, it will blow your mind, not because of the spectacle but because you'll spend a lot of time untangling alternate realities and timelines. Thunderbolts* offers a welcome return to straightforward storytelling. They finally understood what the audiences really want-strong writing and compelling characters. It's a simple reminder that it's not about grandiose spectacle or mind-bending concepts; it's about the characters and their journeys.

It's pretty common in superhero films to suffer from predictability-heroes facing a powerful villain, overcoming all of the odds in expected ways to save the world. Thunderbolts* shakes up this formula. The characters are so richly drawn and morally complex, leaving you wondering how they'll behave in a heightened situation. This unpredictability adds a layer of tension and intrigue that keeps you engaged throughout. It's very rare to watch a superhero film where the protagonists' decisions and reactions feel authentic and grounded.

Thunderbolts* is a bold, character-driven film that signals a new direction for the MCU. It proves that MCU doesn't need another sprawling multiverse saga or cosmic event to captivate audiences. Instead, it needs stories with heart, characters with depth, and themes that resonate on a human level. By focusing on flawed, complex heroes who are as relatable as they are powerful, Thunderbolts* offers a new kind of superhero film that feels fresh and necessary. Thunderbolts* is a welcome reminder of what makes the genre great: compelling characters, meaningful stories, and the courage to be vulnerable even when wearing a mask.

If this is the future of the MCU, count me in.

Ryan Coogler's "Sinners" is a cinematic masterpiece in the horror genre, weaving its narrative with the sounds of southern blues. The film follows the twin brothers as they try to leave their troubled lives behind, returning to their hometown to start again, only to discover an even greater evil waiting to welcome them back.

Michael B. Jordan plays the character "Smoke" with his twin brother "Stack," played by Michael C. Jordan. Kidding aside, the twin is played by Michael B. Jordan alone. Yes, we are gifted to see two Michael B. Jordans on the big screen, both in their tank tops and with bloody muscles. Michael B. Jordan's performance was magnetic, which is odd because he has consistently delivered great performances every time he's on screen. Yet, he hasn't secured that one role that will earn him an Oscar nomination. As much as I would love for him to get an Oscar nod for this role, the Academy is notorious for ignoring the horror genre. His performance as both "Stack" and "Smoke" was phenomenal, giving each character a distinct persona that remains true to their individuality. Jordan's dual role was powerful, complemented by Coogler's bold and in-your-face bloody direction, making their team-up a one-of-a-kind.

This film is a risk for Ryan Cooler as he hasn't done any films that are not inspired by or based on a different narrative. "Sinners" is all original and unique, which proves my point that Ryan is one of the greatest directors we have today. His fearless storytelling, which skillfully addressed racial discrimination and greed, was powerful. It's the kind of risk worth trying, and Coogler masterfully blends the elements of horror and drama through music and blood.

The first hour of the film may be a bit long and dragging to some viewers, but it's the kind of characterization needed for this kind of film. Coogler cleverly built a world for these characters, allowing us to see them and their lives before the dreaded night. Coogler allowed the viewers to understand each character and their motivations, making the film's first half pivotal. Once the film reaches its second part, it's where all the blood and chaos occur, and the journey leading up to this moment is worth it.

"Sinners" also shines in its visual and sound brilliance. There's a sequence in the film where the character played by Miles Caton, named "Sammie," sings a song that showcases various transformations in music, from classic to modern. It also features music from different cultures and races. This scene is the moment when you can say that "Sinners" is probably the best horror film in recent years; it was like a spiritual awakening. The way Coogler cleverly conveyed the film through music is impressive; the music was not just an element added for extra flair, but rather, it was pivotal and interconnected with the story. Music and storytelling are interconnected; one cannot exist without the other, and that alone is a testament to Coogler's brilliance.

"Sinners" is a film where everything was given to us, the viewers, from exceptional performances to excellent visual and audio storytelling. It's a film where all the elements of horror, drama, and music come together because Coogler's heart and dedication were in it. I have been waiting for this in the horror genre, specifically in the vampire subgenre. It's fresh and unique, yet still true to the gore and bloody nature of a film about vampires and its allegory.

"Flow" is an Academy Award-winning animated film from Latvian director Gints Zibalodis, a mystical and wonderous exploration of the spirit of survival, companionship, and stewardship, weaving together both elements of nature and the mystical. The film follows a brave little cat whose home and habitat are shattered by a flood that mysteriously overwhelms the whole forest and possibly the world. The moment I settled myself into watching this film, I was mesmerized by the visuals and how the story unfolds and captivates the profound themes of survival and co-existing that resonate deeply within us. In a world where selfishness has started to foster, "Flow" reminds us that we can survive by simply co-existing.

The film immerses viewers in a stunning and mesmerizing crafted universe that is both familiar and new. The film's highlight is the breathtaking animation, with each scene a masterclass in artistry-colors that dance and landscapes that evoke a sense of wonder and mystery. The fluidity of the animation mirrors the film's themes of adaptability and survival, which touch the heart and soothe the soul of its audience, inviting them to embark on a journey alongside each of the animals involved. Aside from its mesmerizing animation, the film's standout aspect is its unique storytelling approach. It is devoid of dialogue and relies solely on visual storytelling and emotive music to convey its narrative. For a film without dialogue, the animation elevates the film and allows the audience to warp themselves up with its visual storytelling---it's the kind of risk that pays off beautifully. The silence creates a space for reflection, urging us to reconsider the fluidity of life and the beauty of existence itself. It's a bold choice for a film to be this simple, yet it exemplifies the idea that sometimes less is truly more.

As someone who has a deep love and connection to animals, I found myself enjoying the journey of the cat alongside a motley crew of a capybara, a lemur, a secretarybird, and a dog. It is both heartwarming and anxiety-inducing. Each of these animals embodies distinct traits that contribute to the group's survival: trust, courage, and resourcefulness. Witnessing these animals navigate the dangerous waters of their new reality was thrilling and nerve-wracking-the sense of claustrophobia and anxiety as they faced various challenges, from unpredictable waves to unforeseen dangers. Despite the anxiety that sometimes crept in, "Flow" ultimately exudes a sense of calm and peace. This juxtaposition is one of the film's greatest strengths. The film acknowledges the harshness of survival in a world turned upside down but also emphasizes the importance of companionship and teamwork in overcoming various circumstances. The bond and unlikely friendship formed among these creatures is a testament to the power of connection. In a world that can often feel isolating and lonely, "Flow" is a stark reminder that we are never truly alone in our struggles.

As the film unfolds, it becomes evident that this film is more than just a tale of survival; it is also a meditation on life itself. The journey of the cat and his companions serves as a metaphor for the human experience-our struggles, triumphs, and ability to adapt to the ever-changing currents of life. The film invites us to reflect on our journeys, challenges, and relationships we cultivate along the way. It emphasizes that survival is not about physical endurance but the emotional resilience and bonds we forge with others.

"Flow" is more than just an animated film; it is a heartfelt journey that lingers in the mind and soul. Gints Zilbalodis has created a work of art that is entertaining and profoundly moving, serving as a reminder of the beauty of resilience and the importance of companionship. As the credits rolled, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a gentle reminder that we are all part of this grand tapestry of life-flowing together as we navigate the currents of our existence.