Amazeballs

This review contains spoilers.

King Ivory comes packaged with all the signifiers and promises that Hollywood (or its independent outposts) have learned to wield like weapons: “Based on extensive research”, the first phrase that glimmers in the dark like a parolee’s tattoo, ready to be flashed for credibility before the first shank hits the yard. John Swab, the director, claims proximity, he knows this world, these corners of Tulsa, these prison phone banks and gangland protocols. But proximity is not the same as revelation. King Ivory isn’t the first to slip you a look behind the penitentiary curtain and, unfortunately, it still leaves you peering through the mesh.

Dept. Q, premiering on Netflix in May 2025, is a British crime thriller series that plunges viewers into the dark, complex world of cold cases under the stewardship of Detective Chief Inspector Carl Morck. Created by Scott Frank and Chandni Lakhani, and based on Jussi Adler-Olsen's Danish novels, the show evokes a tense, riveting atmosphere where justice, trauma, and moral ambiguity intertwine. The tone strikes a smart balance between gritty realism and sharp banter, weaving mystery and emotional depth into a seamless narrative that grips audiences from start to finish.

The Residence, a captivating new series on Netflix created by Paul William Davies and produced by Shondaland, emerges as an outstanding addition to the murder mystery genre, effectively blending political satire, character-driven drama, and intricate plotting. Inspired by The Residence: Inside the Private World of the White House by Kate Andersen Brower, the show reimagines the inner workings and secrets of the White House staff with inventive flair. This review will explore the series' compelling elements—its adroit narrative structure, remarkable performances, meticulous set design, and its ability to weave humor seamlessly into dark intrigue—across clearly delineated sections to promote analytical clarity.

Say what you will about Martin Scorsese, the man can squeeze new blood from a dead body, even when that corpse is the gangster film itself. With Casino, he revisits the operatic, violence-soaked terrain so memorably realized in Goodfellas. But this is no mere retread. Here, in the sun-baked, gaudy playground of Las Vegas, Scorsese paints with brighter neons and darker shadows, as if the moral decay is more lurid for being so thoroughly lacquered in gold. And, confession time, this is the one that tops my list, staking a claim even above Goodfellas in the Scorsese firmament.

When I first learned about Adolescence, a four-episode British miniseries released by Netflix on March 13, 2025, I anticipated a serious examination of contemporary youth issues, particularly those surrounding toxic masculinity, incel culture, and social media influence. With a talented creative team led by co-creators Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham—who also stars—the series promised an intense, immersive viewing experience. The compelling premise of following a teenage boy accused of murder, filmed entirely in single continuous takes, heightened my expectations regarding technical mastery and emotional depth. Knowing Graham’s previous work in Boiling Point, I was prepared for a raw, visceral journey that would challenge and disturb but also enlighten.

There is a peculiar kind of pride to be found in a series that wears its lineage on its sleeve, and with Gatao: Like Father Like Son, we have reached the origin myth: the gangster saga’s answer to the Book of Genesis. Ray Jiang’s fourth foray into the Gatao universe is not so much a mere prequel as a ritual exhumation, painstakingly unearthing the sturdy bones of grudge, loyalty, and ambition that have propped up the franchise through three films already.