Month: March 2026

What does a poet do after receiving a cancer death sentence? In the case of Andrea Gibson, a brilliant performance poet, the process of grieving and adjusting is beautifully presented by documentary filmmaker Ryan White in Come See Me in the Good Light. The gentle movie lingers over cancer treatment, blood test revelations, ordinary days, musings, and long loving discussions with fellow poet and partner, Megan (“Meg”) Falley. Avoiding sentimentality but diving into Gibson’s exploration of the fears and joys of final moments, the film travels at a clip toward the end (although we never see the very last days of Gibson, who died eight months ago). The core of Come See Me in the Good Light is a breathtaking last performance to a packed crowd, an exultant paean to love. I was moved, dear reader, moved and transported somewhere richer, and so will you be. You too might decide to adopt Gibson’s advice: “Everything you’re feeling now, call it love.”

A Japanese actor turned director, Hikari writes and directs Rental House, a low-key Tokyo drama showcasing the rejuvenation of actor Brendan Fraser. Fraser plays a bumbling, affable actor who joins a company which hires out actors to impersonate real people: a crowd at a wedding, a fake apologist lover, imaginary family. This is a Japanese phenomenon that we rarely encounter in the west and it offers Fraser the chance to spar with delicate issues as he pretends to be a young girl’s father in order to secure a good school; pretends to interview a famous actor to assist with dementia; and pretends to marry a girl so she can leave the country with her parents satisfied. The movie is delightfully shot across the panoply of Tokyo, along its train lines and highways, and down its oh-so-atmospheric laneways. Flirting with sentimentality but never succumbing, Rental House is a genuine tearjerker that, for once, works, by tapping our emotions as they should be tapped.

What an odd yet compelling and moving streaming series Severance is! Its premise is very much the sort of thing legendary sci-fi author Philip K. Dick would have dreamed up: a corporation (Lumon) offers a brain operation whereby your work self and your at-home self live separate lives. The four main characters of the show form a strange administrative team in the bowels of Lumon’s atmospheric headquarters, corridor after corridor of gleaming white passageways. Macro Data Refining mysteriously and intuitively collect different numbers on a screen and “refine” them into collective pots. Like Dick’s novels, the show is a thriller tackling significant topics around the existential schisms of the four heroes. The brilliant lead role by Adam Scott, playing the very different “innie” Mark S and “outie” Mark Scout, stands out, but stellar performances pour in from Britt Lower, Zach Cherry, and John Turturro as Mark S’s work colleagues; Tramell Tillman and Patricia Arquette excel in villainous roles. Season 1 set out the weird world of the severed workers and exposed key mysteries. Season 2 is a rollercoaster of tension as Lumon’s dastardly plans reach for fruition while the “innies” (and one “outie”) strive for clarity and, perhaps, freedom. The cinematography is spellbinding, the music is wonderful, and the script and dialogue are first rate. Watch both seasons of Severance, rejoice in modern cinematic perfection, and pine for Season 3!

Created by brilliant screenwriter/filmmaker Vince Gilligan, nine-episode Pluribus offers a sci-fi scenario that will deter some viewers but hopefully entrance others. Very much anchored by a superb star turn by Rhea Seehorn as romance writer Carol Sturka, the show posits that Carol finds herself one of a couple of handfuls of humans not turned into seemingly blissed-out, hivemind-connect, now billions strong and forced to accommodate the immune. The first episode is flat-out bananas, as Carol experiences a wave of conversions into happy zombies while the love of her life dies. Irascible, unstoppable, and profane, Carol embarks on a mission to return the world to sanity. This type of show hinges on its screenplay and direction, and both of them never miss a beat as Carol’s quest flails and flounders. Visually stunning and brilliantly paced, Pluribus needs few actors other than crowd extras and bit players (such as most of the other immune people from around the world), but Seehorn’s acting is complemented by fine performances by Karolina Wydra (as Carol’s “chaperone” from the infected) and Carlos-Manuel Vesga (as an uncompromising immune Paraguayan). Interesting issues such as ethics, freedom, and agency are explored with poise. All in all, Pluribus is a hoot and Season 2 cannot arrive fast enough.