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Who would’ve thought that Drake’s first kiss would become a piece of television history? The upcoming documentary “Degrassi: Whatever It Takes” reveals this oddly touching moment — the future rap superstar, then just Aubrey Graham, nervously locking lips with co-star Lauren Collins on camera. It’s exactly the kind of raw, unscripted honesty that made Degrassi more than just another teen drama.

Set to debut at TIFF’s milestone 50th edition this September, the documentary peels back the curtain on what might be Canada’s most influential cultural export. Sure, that’s a bold claim — but anyone who grew up watching Degrassi knows it’s not just hyperbole.

The show’s impact runs deeper than most people realize. Before streaming wars and TikTok fame changed the game, Degrassi was quietly revolutionizing how television approached teenage life. Director Lisa Rideout doesn’t just tell us this — she shows us through a masterful weaving of archival footage and surprisingly candid interviews.

Drake’s confession about his high school struggles hits differently now, doesn’t it? “I just didn’t really fit in,” he admits, describing the life-changing call that landed him the role of Jimmy Brooks. Twenty years later, it’s almost surreal to think about that awkward teenager transforming into one of music’s biggest stars.

But Degrassi was never about creating celebrities. The documentary assembles an impressive roster of alumni — some famous, others less so — who paint a picture of a show that dared to be different. Stefan Brogren’s journey from playing “Snake” to becoming the school’s principal mirrors the show’s own evolution. It’s the kind of detail that makes you appreciate the franchise’s remarkable 40-year run even more.

Producer Carrie Mudd nails it when she calls the show “a time capsule of growing up.” The documentary doesn’t shy away from the messier aspects either — the pressure of tackling controversial subjects, the personal costs for young actors, the behind-the-scenes tensions that came with pushing boundaries in the early 2025 media landscape.

Here’s what makes Degrassi special: while other shows were playing it safe, this scrappy Canadian production was tackling everything from teen pregnancy to gender identity. They weren’t just checking boxes; they were telling stories that needed to be told. Two International Emmys and a Peabody Award later, it’s clear they were onto something.

The documentary’s arrival at TIFF feels perfectly timed. As we navigate an era where authentic storytelling often takes a backseat to algorithm-friendly content, “Degrassi: Whatever It Takes” reminds us why genuine, unvarnished narratives matter. Sometimes the most universal stories come from the most unexpected places — like a fictional high school in Toronto that somehow became real to millions of viewers worldwide.

Kevin Smith’s appearance in the documentary adds another layer of credibility. When a filmmaker known for pushing boundaries calls your show revolutionary, you know you’ve done something right. The trailer suggests we’re in for both a celebration and an examination — a deep dive into how a modest Canadian drama changed youth television forever.

In the end, maybe that’s what makes this documentary so compelling. It’s not just about a TV show — it’s about growing up, taking risks, and telling stories that matter. And sometimes, those stories include future superstars having their first kiss on camera.

Hollywood’s latest bizarre saga isn’t about method acting or award season drama — it’s about a comedian’s theatrical hatred of a tiny dog. And now that dog is dead.

In what might be the entertainment industry’s most peculiar posthumous declaration of innocence, Andy Samberg felt compelled to address swirling speculation about his role in the demise of his longtime nemesis: a small Italian Greyhound named Frisbee, who happened to belong to fellow SNL alum Seth Meyers.

“I didn’t kill Frisbee,” Samberg recently declared to Entertainment Tonight, before adding with his trademark deadpan delivery, “much as that would’ve delighted me.” The timing of this statement — coming just as his new film “The Roses” hits theaters alongside Kate McKinnon — has only added to the deliciously absurd nature of this whole affair.

Let’s back up a moment. The Samberg-Frisbee feud has been the stuff of entertainment legend for years, a bizarrely compelling subplot in the usually manufactured world of celebrity rivalries. When pressed about the source of his antipathy toward the diminutive pooch, Samberg offered an explanation so wonderfully vague it could only enhance the comedy: “Oh, just the general appearance and vibe… And, um, essence. And like, feel.”

The death’s timing — just one day after Samberg’s 47th birthday — sparked a flurry of playful conspiracy theories across social media. But perhaps the most remarkable aspect of this story isn’t the timing or even the cause of death — it’s the steadfast commitment to what must surely rank among show business’s most unlikely feuds.

Meyers himself confirmed the mutual nature of the animosity, taking to X (formerly Twitter) to inform the world that “She disliked him too, FWIW” — a detail that somehow makes the whole situation even more absurdly perfect.

In an age where celebrity beefs often feel as authentic as reality TV drama, there was something refreshingly genuine about Samberg’s unwavering disdain for a tiny Italian Greyhound. Even as Frisbee approached her final days, the Brooklyn Nine-Nine star refused to dial back the bit — a dedication that earned him unexpected praise from Meyers himself.

“You did not take your foot off the gas,” Meyers noted admiringly during their joint podcast appearance. Samberg’s response carried an unexpected weight: “I feel like that would’ve been disrespectful to her, in a lot of ways. She would’ve been like, ‘Hey, don’t take it easy on me.’”

The whole affair reached its peculiar zenith when Frisbee received — of all things — a New York Times obituary. Samberg’s reaction? Pure, unbridled joy. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think A, that I would have the privilege of being so inextricably linked to Frisbee’s demise,” he gleefully noted, “[Or] that good ol’ Fris would get so much love and coverage.”

Maybe there’s something oddly comforting about this tale of a comedian’s inexplicable beef with a small dog — a feud that managed to transcend even death itself. As Meyers aptly noted, Frisbee “was worth more than just how much Andy fucking hated her.” Though perhaps, in the end, it was precisely that hatred that helped cement her legacy in the increasingly bizarre annals of 2025’s pop culture landscape.

Well, darlings, Hollywood’s latest transformation tale isn’t about another celebrity juice cleanse or shocking hair change — it’s far more deliciously disturbing. Charlie Hunnam, our favorite leather-clad bad boy, is trading his motorcycle for something that’ll make your skin crawl… quite literally.

The first glimpses of Hunnam in Netflix’s “Monster: The Ed Gein Story” hit the internet yesterday, and honey, let’s just say Jax Teller’s perfectly coiffed blonde locks are the least of what’s been sacrificed. The promotional images — particularly that haunting shot of him peeling off a face mask (and not the kind you get at Sephora) — sent shivers through social media faster than a Taylor Swift breakup announcement.

Set against the bleak landscape of 1950s Wisconsin, this latest chapter in Ryan Murphy’s increasingly addictive “Monster” anthology series promises to be the grisliest yet. Murphy, who’s never met a dark story he couldn’t make darker, appears to have outdone himself. The series drops October 3rd, just in time for spooky season — though you might want to skip the Halloween masks this year.

The casting is nothing short of brilliant madness. Hunnam, who’s spent years making us swoon as various iterations of the charming rogue, now faces his most transformative role yet. But the real coup? Laurie Metcalf as Gein’s mother Augusta. Anyone who caught Metcalf’s turn in last year’s “Doppelganger” knows she can do creepy with the best of them, and this role seems tailor-made for her particular brand of unsettling intensity.

Tom Hollander and Olivia Williams round out the cast as Alfred Hitchcock and Alma Reville — because darling, you can’t tell the story of modern horror without nodding to its greatest architect. The connection? Gein’s grotesque activities served as inspiration for “Psycho,” proving that sometimes truth is more terrifying than fiction.

Speaking of truth — Gein’s legacy runs deeper than most casual horror fans realize. Before Leatherface revved up his chainsaw or Buffalo Bill demanded lotion application, there was Ed Gein, the unassuming Wisconsin farmer whose real-life atrocities spawned an entire genre. Two confirmed murders might seem almost quaint by today’s true-crime standards, but trust me, sweeties — it’s what he did after that’ll turn your stomach.

Max Winkler’s directing the lion’s share of episodes, with Ian Brennan stepping behind the camera for two. The result, based on early whispers from usually-reliable sources, is a psychological descent that makes “Black Swan” look like a ballet recital. Hunnam, who’s also executive producing (because apparently nightmare fuel wasn’t enough of a contribution), seems determined to shed his heartthrob status faster than a Hollywood marriage.

But here’s the real tea: This isn’t just another true crime story being served up for our binge-watching pleasure. It’s a meditation on how one man’s unfathomable acts permanently warped our cultural consciousness. The series asks not just “what happened,” but “what does it say about us that we’re still fascinated?”

Will audiences embrace their beloved Charlie in this drastically different role? That remains to be seen. But one thing’s certain — this promises to be the kind of transformation that makes Daniel Day-Lewis’s method acting look like amateur hour. Just maybe don’t watch it alone… or before dinner… or ever, if you’re faint of heart.

Remember when the scariest thing about Charlie Hunnam was his dad bod in “The Lost City of Z”? Those were simpler times, darlings. Simpler times indeed.

Hollywood loves a comeback story, and the resurrection of Todd Haynes’ shelved gay romance proves that some projects refuse to stay buried. “De Noche” — once considered dead in the water after Joaquin Phoenix’s puzzling departure — has found new life with television’s current darling Pedro Pascal potentially stepping into the leading role. The cameras might roll in Guadalajara come early 2026, and honestly? The timing couldn’t be more perfect.

Let’s talk about that timing for a second. Pascal’s star isn’t just rising — it’s practically gone supernova. Between “The Last of Us” breaking streaming records and “The Mandalorian” cementing his place in the pop culture pantheon, he’s become the kind of actor who can actually get projects greenlit just by showing interest. (Remember when that kind of power was reserved for, like, three actors tops?)

The project’s revival feels almost poetic. Danny Ramirez, fresh off his “Top Gun: Maverick” success, stayed loyal to the vision through all the drama. Now, pairing him with Pascal? That’s the kind of casting alchemy that makes studio executives wake up in cold sweats of excitement.

Set against the sultry backdrop of 1930s Mexico, this tale of two men fleeing Los Angeles in pursuit of forbidden love sounds exactly like the kind of boundary-pushing cinema Haynes does best. And speaking of Haynes — veteran producer Christine Vachon didn’t mince words about the project’s initial collapse. “Todd Haynes is 62,” she’d said, her frustration practically vibrating off the screen. “He’s not old but there’s a finite number of films that he will be able to do in his lifetime.”

Pascal’s packed schedule — good lord, just look at it. “Materialists,” “Eddington,” and that little indie project called “Fantastic Four: First Steps” (sarcasm fully intended). That producers are willing to juggle shooting dates around his availability tells you everything you need to know about both his industry pull and their faith in this particular story.

For Haynes, whose collaboration with Killer Films has given us gems like “Carol” and “Far From Heaven,” this isn’t just another notch on the directorial belt. It’s a chance to add another masterpiece to a filmography that’s consistently pushed the envelope while maintaining artistic integrity. Not an easy tightrope to walk, but Haynes makes it look effortless.

The whispers about an NC-17 rating? Those haven’t gone away. And in today’s climate, where LGBTQ+ storytelling faces more scrutiny than a Met Gala outfit, that kind of uncompromising vision matters more than ever.

Phoenix’s exit remains one of those Hollywood mysteries that’ll probably never get solved — his Venice response of “it just doesn’t feel like that would be right” only added more intrigue to the whole situation. But maybe, just maybe, this reshuffling of the cosmic deck was exactly what “De Noche” needed.

Sometimes the best love stories take a few false starts before finding their rhythm. For this particular passion project, the stars might finally be aligning in all the right ways.

Sometimes the most profound revelations come from the most unexpected sources. Just ask John Williams, the 93-year-old maestro behind practically every memorable film score of the past half-century, who recently dropped quite the bombshell: he’s not particularly fond of film music.

“I never liked film music very much,” Williams confessed to The Guardian, in what might be 2025’s most startling admission from the entertainment world. Coming from the man who gave us the heart-stopping themes of Star Wars, Jaws, and countless other cinematic treasures, it’s a bit like hearing Gordon Ramsay say he’s not really into cooking.

The timing couldn’t be more peculiar. While Williams questions the artistic merit of his life’s work, another musical phenomenon is unfolding across the globe. Oasis — those swaggering kings of Britpop — have finally buried the hatchet (somewhere other than in each other’s backs, for once) and announced their long-awaited reunion tour.

Williams’s perspective on film music feels almost brutally honest. “Film music, however good it can be — and it usually isn’t, other than maybe an eight-minute stretch here and there… I just think the music isn’t there,” he muses. His words carry the weight of someone who’s spent decades crafting the very art form he’s critiquing. With 54 Oscar nominations and five wins under his belt, perhaps he’s earned the right to be a bit cynical.

Tim Greiving, whose biography “John Williams: A Composer’s Life” hits shelves this fall, insists this isn’t just false modesty at play. “His comments are sort of shocking,” Greiving notes, “and they are genuinely self-deprecating.” In an age where self-promotion often trumps authenticity, Williams’s candor feels refreshingly real.

Meanwhile, across the musical spectrum, Oasis is proving that some sounds never fade. Their upcoming show at Chicago’s Soldier Field — part of their first U.S. tour in 16 years — sold out faster than you can say “anyway, here’s Wonderwall.” From London to São Paulo, tickets are vanishing at lightning speed, suggesting that perhaps permanence in music isn’t about genre but about impact.

What’s particularly fascinating about Williams’s creative process is his deliberate approach to scoring. He purposely avoids reading scripts before viewing footage, claiming it helps him maintain “a better rhythmic response” to the visuals. It’s a bit like a chef refusing to look at the recipe until the ingredients are right in front of them — unconventional, sure, but you can’t argue with the results.

The contrast between Williams’s orchestral masterpieces and Oasis’s guitar-driven anthems might seem stark, but both share an uncanny ability to embed themselves in our cultural consciousness. While Williams dismisses much of film music as mere nostalgic memory, Oasis’s reunion shows demonstrate that sometimes nostalgia itself can be the most powerful artistic force we’ve got.

Perhaps most poignantly, Williams reflects on music’s fundamental human appeal: “If Armageddon came and blew up everything, in a few days, someone would pick up a reed, even if only for a war song. The impulse to make music is the greatest fun in life.” In early 2025, as artificial intelligence continues to reshape the musical landscape, these words feel more relevant than ever.

Whether it’s the soaring strings of E.T. or the raw energy of “Live Forever,” music’s ability to move and unite people remains undiminished. Even as one of its greatest practitioners questions the artistic merit of his chosen field, audiences continue finding meaning in both the classical precision of film scores and the primal punch of rock and roll. Some things, it seems, truly are wonderwalls that stand the test of time.

Glasgow’s getting ready to throw one heck of a party for its favorite son — and honestly, it couldn’t be more fitting. The “Big Yin Weekend” this September 6-7 isn’t just another festival; it’s the city’s way of wrapping its arms around Billy Connolly while celebrating its own 850th birthday. Talk about perfect timing.

You’d be hard-pressed to find someone who embodies Glasgow’s spirit quite like Connolly. From wielding tools in the Clyde shipyards to wielding laughs on international stages, his journey reads like a uniquely Glaswegian fairy tale — minus the fancy castle and with considerably more colorful language.

“Throughout our birthday year Sir Billy Connolly’s name has come up time and time again,” says Susan Aitken, Glasgow City Council leader. Well, of course it has. The Big Yin (a nickname that stuck harder than Glasgow rain) hasn’t just represented the city — he’s practically become its unofficial ambassador, armed with nothing but wit and that unmistakable laugh.

The weekend’s lineup? It’s basically a love letter to Connolly’s wild ride through entertainment. At its heart sits a rare screening of “Big Banana Feet,” a documentary capturing his electric 1975 Irish tour. The GFT showing — introduced by local comic Scott Agnew — offers a glimpse into Connolly when he was just beginning to revolutionize stand-up comedy. Back then, nobody quite knew what hit them.

But here’s what makes this celebration special: it’s not just about the laughs. The organizers have mapped out walking tours tracing Connolly’s journey from shipyard welder to international star. There’s even a cycling route showcasing those massive murals of him scattered across the city — you know, the ones that make tourists stop dead in their tracks and grab their phones.

The musical side hasn’t been forgotten either. A free show at The Park Bar will feature Gary Innes & Friends, while Scottish group Manran’s debuting their new tune “Big Yin.” Seems fitting for a man who once shared stages with Gerry Rafferty before deciding comedy was more his speed.

Krista MacDonald, directing the Glasgow International Comedy Festival, puts it perfectly: “Sir Billy Connolly is the heartbeat of Glasgow’s comedy spirit.” She’s not wrong — the man practically rewrote the rules of Scottish comedy while making the world sit up and take notice.

What’s particularly touching is how the city’s keeping things accessible. They’ve deliberately kept ticket prices down, making sure everyone can join in celebrating their hometown hero. After all, this is the same guy who received a knighthood in 2017 but still talks about Glasgow like he’s just stepped off a shift at the shipyards.

The whole weekend feels less like a formal tribute and more like a city-wide party for a beloved friend. Every comedy showcase, every guided walk, every musical note seems to echo with stories of how one man’s journey helped reshape Glasgow’s identity. Not bad for a former welder with a gift for gab.

Paul Gallagher from Glasgow Film summed it up rather nicely when he spoke about Connolly’s “comic genius, musical flair and unmistakable Glaswegian charm.” But perhaps what’s most remarkable is how this celebration, planned for late 2024, shows that even as Glasgow looks toward its future, it never forgets the characters who helped shape its story.

The Big Yin Weekend isn’t just another event on the calendar — it’s Glasgow doing what it does best: celebrating one of its own with equal parts humor and heart. And somewhere, you can bet Billy Connolly’s having a good laugh about the whole thing.

In what might be 2025’s most unexpected creative pairing, Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani are trading their coaching chairs for producer seats to breathe new life into a beloved classic. The musical power couple has just announced their involvement in “Dorothy” — a fresh spin on L. Frank Baum’s timeless tale that trades Oz’s whimsy for Manhattan’s concrete canyons.

Talk about perfect timing. As theater buffs eagerly await “Wicked: For Good” (the follow-up to last year’s Oscar-nominated adaptation), this small-screen reimagining feels both bold and slightly audacious. While Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande prepare to dazzle moviegoers with their continued exploration of Oz’s most famous frenemies, Shelton and Stefani are cooking up something decidedly different.

“Being part of something that weaves together music, emotion, and Dorothy’s spirit just speaks to me,” Stefani shared recently, her signature enthusiasm practically leaping off the press release. The series promises to transform that iconic tornado-driven journey into something a bit closer to home — the turbulent reality of finding yourself in the big city. (Flying monkeys optional, though Manhattan pigeons can be nearly as threatening.)

Behind this creative shake-up stands Gina Matthews, whose previous work includes “13 Going on 30” and “Isn’t It Romantic.” Matthews — who’s probably worn out several copies of Baum’s books by now — brings both street cred and sincere passion to the project. “Dorothy represents the strength we all need to navigate life’s challenges,” she noted, adding that the character embodies the perfect mix of grit and grace needed to tackle modern-day obstacles.

Shelton’s involvement came naturally, though perhaps unexpectedly for a country star known more for his twang than his takes on musical theater. “Watching Gwen light up about this project — well, that was all it took,” he revealed. Their partnership here mirrors their own unlikely but charming relationship, blending country authenticity with pop cultural savvy.

The creative team’s roster reads like a who’s who of industry heavy-hitters: Lee Metzger, Patrick Moran, and Little Engine’s Grant Scharbo have all signed on. Moran’s enthusiasm feels genuine rather than manufactured: “Everyone involved brings something unique to the table. This isn’t just another reboot — it’s a reinvention.”

While the premiere date remains under wraps (streaming services do love their mysteries), the timing couldn’t be more interesting. With “Wicked: For Good” set to enchant audiences later this year, this series offers a completely different lens through which to view Dorothy’s journey. Gone are the ruby slippers and talking scarecrows — replaced by perhaps equally magical moments of self-discovery in the city that never sleeps.

What makes this adaptation particularly intriguing is its ambitious scope. The yellow brick road becomes more metaphorical than literal — a winding path through career choices, relationships, and the sometimes-overwhelming task of finding one’s place in the world. Sound familiar? It should — it’s the journey every young adult faces, minus the actual wicked witches (though some Manhattan landlords might qualify).

In an entertainment landscape where “reimagining” often means “recycling,” “Dorothy” seems determined to chart its own course. As Scharbo put it — with the kind of confidence that comes from genuine belief in a project — this version of Oz might just capture the imagination of viewers who’ve never given a second thought to flying monkeys or emerald cities.

Sometimes the most magical stories are the ones that hit closest to home. And in this case, home just happens to be a walk-up apartment somewhere between Central Park and Greenwich Village.

YouTube’s latest experiment might just shake up the creator economy in ways nobody saw coming. The platform’s “Hype” feature — think of it as a digital high-five meets American Idol voting — is going global after successful test runs, expanding to 39 countries including heavyweight markets like the U.S., UK, Japan, and India.

Remember when discovering new content meant endless scrolling through recommended videos? Well, that’s about to change. YouTube’s taking a gamble on letting viewers become talent scouts, handing out up to three “hypes” weekly to videos from creators with under 500,000 subscribers. It’s a refreshing departure from letting algorithms call all the shots.

The mechanics are deceivingly straightforward. A new hype button sits right below the traditional like button — small real estate, massive potential. Videos catching these digital endorsements get a “hyped” badge, sort of like a seal of approval from the community. But here’s where it gets interesting: the fewer subscribers a creator has, the more weight their hypes carry. Robin Hood would be proud.

By early 2025, this could revolutionize how emerging creators break through the noise. The platform’s even cooking up specialized leaderboards for different content categories — because let’s face it, comparing gaming streams to cooking tutorials never made much sense anyway.

YouTube’s wrapping the whole thing in engagement features that would make any game designer jealous. Monthly “hype star badges” for active supporters? Check. Notifications when your championed videos are climbing the ranks? You bet. It’s like fantasy sports, but for content creation.

For the number-crunchers out there, YouTube’s rolling out some serious analytics firepower in their Studio mobile app. Creators can track hypes and points with the precision of a Wall Street trader watching stock tickers. Weekly performance recaps in their data stories mean no more guessing games about content performance.

Here’s where things get really spicy — YouTube’s testing paid hypes in Brazil and Turkey. It’s a clever move that could open up new revenue streams while giving superfans a way to throw more weight behind their favorite creators. In the attention economy of 2025, that kind of direct support could make or break emerging channels.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Whether this system actually helps surface genuinely deserving content or just creates another metric for creators to obsess over remains to be seen. The cynic might say it’s just another popularity contest. The optimist sees it as democracy in action.

One thing’s crystal clear though — YouTube’s taking a bold step away from pure algorithmic discovery. In an era where AI increasingly curates our digital experiences, there’s something refreshingly human about letting viewers directly champion the content they believe deserves more attention.

Time will tell if this experiment pays off, but you’ve got to admire YouTube’s willingness to shake things up. After all, in the ever-evolving landscape of digital content, sometimes the best innovations come from putting a bit more power in the hands of the people who matter most — the viewers themselves.

Well, darlings, Hollywood’s favorite brooding vampire slayer has traded her stake for a director’s chair, and the results are absolutely delicious. Kristen Stewart’s directorial debut “The Chronology of Water” isn’t just making waves — it’s creating a full-blown tsunami in the industry. And honestly? It’s about time someone shook things up around here.

The Forge just couldn’t resist snatching up North American distribution rights (smart move, honestly). They’re plotting a classic awards-season strategy: December qualifying run, followed by a wider release in January 2025. Classic Hollywood chess moves, but with an indie twist that feels refreshingly authentic.

Let’s dish about what makes this film different, shall we? Based on Lidia Yuknavitch’s memoir, it’s the kind of raw, unvarnished storytelling that would make old-school studio heads reach for their smelling salts. Competitive swimming, sexual awakening, addiction — Stewart isn’t just dipping her toes in the shallow end, darlings. She’s diving straight into the deep end of the pool, and bringing us all along for the ride.

That glowing 93% on Rotten Tomatoes? Not too shabby for someone who used to make headlines for her apparent allergy to smiling. IndieWire’s David Ehrlich hit the nail square on its perfectly manicured head: “some movies are shot. This one was directed.” Honey, in an industry where every other celebrity thinks they can slide into the director’s chair like it’s a poolside lounger at the Chateau Marmont, that’s saying something.

The casting? Pure genius. Imogen Poots delivers what critics are dubbing a “revelatory performance” — and trust me, in this town, that word carries more weight than a designer’s entire resort collection. Then there’s the supporting ensemble: Jim Belushi (yes, really), Thora Birch (welcome back, darling), and — because why not throw a dash of rock ‘n’ roll royalty into the mix — Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon. It’s like the most fascinating dinner party you’ve never been invited to.

Mark Mathias Sayre over at The Forge couldn’t contain his enthusiasm — and really, who could blame him? “Kristen hasn’t just directed a film,” he gushed, “she’s carved out a world with unmistakable vision: one that pulses with pain, desire, and defiance.” Coming from an industry exec, that’s practically a marriage proposal written in neon lights.

Stewart spent eight years nurturing this project — longer than some Hollywood marriages, mind you. “Films like ours should be birthed onto the screen,” she declared, with that characteristic intensity that’s made her evolution from teen idol to serious artist so utterly fascinating to watch.

The production credits read like a who’s who of international cinema: Scott Free Productions, CG Cinema International… Proof that even in an era where every other film seems to involve someone in spandex saving the world, there’s still room for storytelling that actually has something to say.

As The Forge’s Decker Sadowski puts it — and darling, she’s not wrong — “The Chronology of Water is a film that leaves you changed: more powerful, more awake, and more free.” In a landscape of cookie-cutter content and focus-grouped mediocrity, Stewart’s managed to create something that feels genuinely… well, genuine.

And isn’t that what we’ve been desperately craving all along?

The 2025 awards season is shaping up to be quite the spectacle, darlings — and not just because of the usual parade of designer gowns and carefully crafted acceptance speeches. Two distinctly different directors are bringing something rather special to our screens, and it’s about time we talked about it.

Remember Bradley Cooper’s stunning transformation into Leonard Bernstein? Well, he’s not done surprising us just yet. The actor-turned-director is stepping behind the camera again — and this time he’s bringing Will Arnett along for what might be the most intriguing mid-life crisis ever captured on film. “Is This Thing On?” nabbed that coveted closing night slot at the New York Film Festival, and honestly? The buzz is absolutely deafening.

Cooper’s taken his perfectionism to new heights, darlings. Not content with merely directing, he’s actually joined the cinematographers’ union to operate the camera himself. “We went down to Chinatown and it’s been amazing,” he shared on “The Pat McAfee Show,” sounding every bit like a kid who just got his hands on the coolest new toy. The film pairs Arnett with Laura Dern — and really, has there ever been a more perfectly matched on-screen duo?

Meanwhile, Chloé Zhao’s doing something rather unexpected after her cosmic adventure with “Eternals.” She’s trading space suits for doublets and ruffs with “Hamnet” — and before you roll your eyes at another Shakespeare adaptation, trust me, this one’s different. Jessie Buckley and Paul Mescal are bringing William and Agnes Shakespeare to life in what’s already being whispered about as the tear-jerker of the season.

The first trailer alone is enough to give you goosebumps. “Tell me a story,” Buckley’s Agnes asks, with Mescal’s Shakespeare responding, “What story would you like?” Her answer? “Something that moves me.” Simple words, perhaps, but delivered with such raw emotion that you might want to stock up on tissues now.

Speaking of heavy hitters — Steven Spielberg and Sam Mendes aren’t just putting their names on this project; they’re throwing their full producing weight behind it. Based on Maggie O’Farrell’s novel (you know, the one that’s sold a casual 2 million copies), “Hamnet” promises to peel back the curtain on the personal tragedy that might have inspired Shakespeare’s most famous work.

Both films are positioning themselves for the 2025 awards race — “Is This Thing On?” hits select theaters December 19, while “Hamnet” begins its theatrical run on November 27 before going wide December 12. With cinematographers like Matthew Libatique and Łukasz Żal involved, we’re in for quite the visual feast.

But here’s the thing about these films — they’re not just award-season fodder. They’re reminders of why we still brave the crowds and overpriced popcorn to sit in dark theaters. Sometimes, between all the superhero landings and CGI explosions, we need stories that simply show us ourselves — messy, complicated, and utterly human.

And really, isn’t that what we’re all craving right now? Stories that remind us we’re not alone in our struggles, our losses, our awkward attempts at reinvention? If early whispers are anything to go by, these films might just be exactly what we need to close out 2024 and welcome 2025 with open arms — and maybe a few tears.