You (Season 5)

Creator: Greg Berlanti and Sera Gamble
Starring: Penn Badgley, Charlotte Ritchie, Griffin Matthews, Anna Camp, Madeline Brewer, Frankie DeMaio, Pete Ploszek, Tom Francis, Natasha Behnam, Amy-Leigh Hickman, Michael Dempsey, Michelle Hurd, Elizabeth Lail, Saffron Burrows, Shalita Grant, Travis Van Winkle, Cayleb Long, Jefferson White, Tilly Keeper, Tati Gabrielle, Robin Lord Taylor
Original Airdate: 2025

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

For its polarizing final season, Netflix's You returns to the scene of the crime, in some ways proving just how little has changed for serial killer Joe Goldberg since the series first premiered on Lifetime 7 years ago. But what a trip it's been, with the psychological thriller maintaining an enviable level of consistency since the jump to streaming exposed it to a much wider audience. Now that solid run reaches its end with Joe not only forced to confront the past, but meeting his ultimate match in more ways than one. 

Having gone from New York to California to England, Joe's back in the city after leaving a long line of victims and clues in his wake, evading capture long enough to fixate on his next obsession. Whether it's Guinevere Beck, Love Quinn, Marienne Bellamy or Kate Lockwood, all were duped into believing he'd be their white knight. And despite Joe convincing himself this latest reset is different, he'll always revert to his sociopathic default setting, gradually revealing the worst parts of himself before blowing everything up and moving on. 

If last season was defined by a huge Fight Club-inspired twist that raised Joe's body count, this follows those events with an even bigger one, complete with a plethora of callbacks and returns to bring the story full circle, teasing the possibility he'll finally get his. Now with the tables turning, predator becomes prey when an outmaneuvered Joe makes some of his sloppiest mistakes yet. But if this season marks a homecoming, it's only fitting that it all comes back to Beck, who's legacy has him backed into a corner like never before. 

Three years have passed since Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley) returned to New York City with Kate (Charlotte Ritchie) after killing politician Rhys Montrose (Ed Speleers) and framing his student Nadia (Amy Leigh Hickman) for murder. Having since rehabilitated his image and regaining custody of their son Henry (Frankie DeMaio), he's now one half of a married power couple with Kate, the CEO of T.R. Lockwood Corp. 

Despite covering for Joe, Kate's still unaware of the full extent of his crimes, which causes problems when vindictive sister Reagan (Anna Camp) digs up dirt to have her removed from the company. With Reagan's twin sister Maddie (Camp) caught in the middle, Kate confides in loyal half-brother Teddy (Griffin Matthews) for help. But with his thirst for retribution growing, Joe discovers a homeless woman named Bronte (Madeline Brewer) breaking into the now abandoned Mooney's bookstore. 

After an antagonistic start, Joe and Bronte bond over their shared love for writing as he hires her for the store's reopening. Though his plan to contain Reagan goes horribly awry, he can't stop obsessing over Bronte, who harbors a big secret of her own. Now with Joe's marriage to Kate imploding as she catches on to his lies, Bronte may be the only person left who truly understands him. But even with his newly reassembled cage in Mooney's basement, Joe's luck could be running out.

You'd figure returning to a familiar city with his wife and son would give Joe the chance to permanently put the past behind him. But that's a song we've heard before as his desire for control again overrides the fantasy life he's concocted in his damaged psyche. That he somehow lasted three years in a seemingly normal, functional marriage could almost be considered a success given his track record. So, of course, he's getting restless again. 

Just as he previously discovered how unfit he was for suburban life with Love, the dinner parties, board meetings, fame and fortune that comes with being Mr. Kate Lockwood isn't Joe and never will be. And now Kate's family predicament has given him the perfect excuse to let his darkest urges resurface. What he frames as protecting her is only fuel for his own addictive release, even if it begins under plausibly deniable circumstances. 

As we've come to expect, dishing out punishment is always exclusively about Joe and no one else. He'll also enjoy it way too much, immediately raising red flags and putting Kate in more danger. From him. And we're barely at the second episode before he makes one of his biggest miscalculations, as a seemingly straightforward plan to eliminate Reagan unravels in spectacular fashion, leaving us wondering whether the writers have backed themselves into a corner. The solution is crazy, but also kind of ingenious, enabling Joe to pull another rabbit out of his hat, for the time being.

No plotline features twins without a reason, and while the scenario gets a little convoluted, it works due to Anna Camp's unhinged and ferociously comical dual performance as Reagan and Maddie. Especially in the episodes when she's not only playing both twins, but one masquerading as the other. For a while it even appears Joe won't be able to gain an upper hand on the shrewd, conniving Reagan, who's made it her mission to destroy him and Kate by exposing their shady pasts. 

Chomping scenery like no one's business, Camp is effectively detestable as the evil twin who steps on her clueless himbo of a husband and petrified daughter. But she saves her meanest wrath for outgoing, barely stable sister Maddie, who isn't the ditz she first appears to be. Having built up a lifetime of insecurity and rage from Reagan's bullying, Joe's found his ace in the hole. Unfortunately, she's also a real wild card who could come back to bite him later. 

From the get-go we know Bronte's hiding something beyond her real name and identity. But in the meantime, she's checking all the same boxes as previous women who transfixed Joe. The only question is what game she's playing, with Madeline Brewer proving incredibly effective as this irritatingly artsy, high-strung thinker concealing a presumably troubled past. But whatever Bronte's intentions, she's also drowning in a sea of self-doubt, which only makes Joe fall harder, shutting out the wife he thinks no longer appreciates him. And for all the complaints about Brewer's character not being likable enough, she's not supposed to be, understandably eliciting as many conflicted opinions from viewers as she does Joe.

Episode six ("The Dark Face of Love") is the season's turning point, giving us Bronte's full backstory and and reframing events we've already seen as a master plan's revealed, before abruptly crumbling. The season's huge twist isn't an enormous surprise on its face, but all the details and revelations accompanying it are, along with a pivotal flashback involving Elizabeth Lail's Beck. 

Where "Bronte" begins and Louise Flannery ends is anyone's guess, but her catfishing soon lands her in the same territory as Beck and the rest, shedding pieces of her own identity to believe in Joe. It's almost as if she's entered one of those cheap romance novels she pretends to enjoy, devolving into the very trope she scoffs at while losing sight of her true purpose.  

Since Joe's story always contained details that would drive true crime fanatics crazy and set social media ablaze, it's only natural the writers would fully exploit this in the final episodes. Exposed for the world to see and judge, he's again forced him to do some spin control to reclaim a narrative that's quickly spiraling out of his hands.  

While it seems every crime series is now required to incorporate a podcast, vlog or TikTok subplot, there's rarely been a better thematic match for it than Joe, whose public profile occupies this weird space somewhere between Ted Bundy and Luigi Mangione. We believe he'd want the world to see and hear his delusional version of events, even appealing for sympathy with a childhood trauma tour of the infamous cage. Watching Badgley walk the tightrope in successfully pulling this off is mind boggling, but the hilarious user comments that scroll across the screen during his interview are the true highlight, echoing obsessive thoughts of diehards who pour over every aspect of the show.  

The best part of last season was Charlotte Ritchie's performance as Kate, whose armor of cynicism still wasn't strong enough to withstand the guilt and daddy issues that eventually drove her to Joe. Rattled and more vulnerable, she's now armed with the full truth, done covering for an unstable husband who isn't just a danger to her, but a son who may have inherited his dad's violent streak.   

For far far different reasons than Joe, viewers also yearn for the return of "ice queen" Kate from last season, if only because we know she possesses the strength and intellect to take him out. At first, it doesn't appear as if she'll get there, opting instead to delicately contain him in order to avoid a public relations nightmare. It isn't until she's fully honest with herself about just how dangerous he is that the gloves come off and she recruits some backup. 

Of course, Kate's hardly the only victim so it stands to reason the others Joe wronged would want to extract revenge. Like imprisoned former student Nadia and ex Marienne (Tati Gabrielle), who Joe assumed he left for dead last season. Less conspicuous by her absence is fan favorite Ellie, but given Jenna Ortega's busy schedule, that return was always the longshot and not exactly imperative for closing this out. But it would have been a great surprise. 

With Kate looking to take the law into her own hands, Joe finds himself on the wrong side of the cage by the series' penultimate episode, "Trial of the Furies," which stands as the series' definitive entry for how it brings Joe face-to-face with the cold, hard truth of what he is and why. It's also something this narcissistic killer with more lives than Dexter will never admit to. 

As Joe's current existence literally goes up in flames, starting anew becomes his only option. Barreling toward the home stretch with a slasher-style finale, the question is less about whether his reign of terror will end, but who makes it out alive. And that's where the writers use up every last ounce of goodwill, asking for a massive suspension of disbelief when it comes to these characters' fates. 

Marienne has this brief but memorable talk with Bronte warning her against assuming she's too smart to get sucked into Joe's vortex. It's a standout scene magnified by Gabrielle's powerful performance, suggesting some sort of deprogramming is required for Bronte to stop projecting what she wants to see and start noticing the facts. And with her fate still very much in the air, the show's narrative voice shifts, placing Joe's future in someone else's hands for a change.

This is the season that examines how women who should see Joe for what he is still somehow remain powerless to his charm and excuses, even lying to themselves to justify it. A toxic predator with a type, he's drawn to hurt or damaged people in need of "saving," exerting the control he couldn't as a child trapped inside that cell he'd later lock them in.

Badgely's tackled the most complicated of tasks in playing a tormented protagonist who views himself as the savior, straddling the line between charming manipulation and full blown psychopathy. That's why a trial that fully exposes him to the world is the character's worst nightmare, or at least almost as bad as a castrated life spent alone in prison. It's still a cage of his own making, but a real one he complains "you" put him. And it's the closest thing to a victory his victims can hope to get.                             

Queen of the Ring

Director: Ash Avildsen
Starring: Emily Bett Rickards, Josh Lucas, Tyler Posey, Walton Goggins, Francesca Eastwood, Marie Avgeropoulos, Deborah Ann Woll, Cara Buono, Kailey Farmer, Gavin Casalegno, Adam Demos, Kelli Berglund, Damaris Lewis, Martin Kove, James E. Cornette, Toni Rossall, Trinity Fatu, Mickie James Britt Baker
Running Time: 140 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

On one hand a very traditional biopic, Queen of the Ring offers something different by telling a story many remain unfamiliar with, wrestling fan or not. Avoiding comparisons to The Iron Claw, it also comes unencumbered with the impending sense of dread and doom unique to that tragedy. With more viewers aware of the Von Erichs, the film had to overcome an avalanche of expectations, as photos, footage, documentaries and first hand accounts all helped fuel wild speculation about what we'd see. So while this isn't nearly as anticipated, writer/director Ash Avildsen reaps the benefits of flying under the radar to explore an unexamined corner of pro wrestling history.  

Told in a straightforward, no-frills style, it's a classic underdog tale that features a dynamic lead performance, some nicely fleshed out mini-arcs for the supporting players and impressive era specific production design. At nearly two and a half hours, it's also lengthy, with the action hitting a slight lull in the middle before regaining momentum the rest of the way through. But the big surprise is the dark places it goes toward the end, laying the groundwork for a myriad of problems that would plague the wrestling industry for decades to come. 

It's the 1930's and Mildred Burke (Emily Bett Rickards) is a single teen mom working at her mother's (Cara Buono) Kansas diner when she discovers and falls in love with wrestling after watching matches at the local arena. After pestering grappler Billy Wolfe (Josh Lucas) to train her, he relents, assuming she won't amount to much, at least until seeing her extraordinary potential between the ropes. Strong, athletic and eager to learn, Mildred works carnival matches, eventually marrying Billy as the two attempt to get bans lifted on women's wrestling across various territories in the U.S. 

Mildred's big break eventually comes from forward looking Mid-Atlantic impresario Jack Pfefer (Walton Goggins). A forefather of "sports entertainment," the eccentric promoter envisions a new theatrical era on the horizon, with her as its centerpiece. But Billy sees his meal ticket, soon building a stable of women's wrestlers as he cheats on and physically abuses Mildred, much to his son G. Bill's (Tyler Posey) quiet disgust. Yearning to break from Billy and show naysayers what she's truly capable of, her journey culminates in a pivotal but controversial world title clash with longtime nemesis June Byers (Kailey Farmer).

Partially inspired by Jeff Leen's 2010 book, this covers a relatively underrepresented time in wrestling that spans from the 30's to the mid 50's during which the sport was in a transitional stage, straddling the line between "work" and "shoot," with even wrestlers occasionally confused as to how much will be scripted. While promoters choose winners based largely on each wrestler's ability to draw money, they can't publicly acknowledge it's predetermined, even as discreet arguments about match outcomes continue behind closed doors in smoke filled arenas.

Enter Mildred Burke, who knows she physically has what it takes to be the best, along with the dedication and contagious optimism to make it happen. But with women's wrestling banned and the National Wrestling Alliance (NWA) maintaining its stranglehold on the business, aging heel wrestler Billy Wolfe sees universal appeal and dollar signs in helping her break through. And Rickards is perfect as the plucky heroin who may be naive to the industry's inner workings at first, but picks things up fast, refusing to settle for being Billy's cash cow. 

Like most of the cast, Rickards benefits from the anonymity of playing characters most modern audiences are unaware of, either in appearance or personality. This enables the actress to build an amiable, girl-next-door persona from the ground up, carving her own niche as Mildred while also looking credible in the ring. And it's not just the wrestling scenes that look good, but the rest of the film, which captures the period with distinctive wardrobe and sets that belie its lower budget.

Lucas gruffly portrays Wolfe as this amalgamation of various sleazebag promoters and ex-wrestlers, initially making a fairly likable impression before revealing his true colors. A textbook abuser, he turns on the charm and manipulation when needed, not just with Mildred but whomever he envisions as the next headliner, both in the ring and his bed.

More a business partnership than marriage, Mildred keeps Billy close enough to protect her earnings, but not so close as to continuously suffer his abuse. But that doesn't work, especially during a time when even the scuzziest promoters are protected and hold all the cards. The more sides she sees of her husband, the worse he gets, as Lucas dives into his character's two-faced persona with gusto, revealing himself as more crooked outside the squared circle than in it. 

There are appearances from a few current wrestlers like Toni Storm as Clara Mortensen, but it's Kailey Farmer (AKA Kamille from AEW) as the imposing June Byers whose presence and badass demeanor looms largest. We also get a cameo from legendary manager Jim Cornette as the NWA commissioner refusing to give the women a shot. And while him sharing the screen with The Karate Kid and Cobra Kai's Martin Kove (as promoter Al Haft) definitely wasn't on anyone's 2025 movie bingo card, it's still great to see.  

More than a few supporting performances stand out, such as Francesca Eastwood's turn as feisty grappler Mae Young, bringing needed dimension to a woman still only known to many as the octogenarian who gave birth to a hand on WWE TV. Adam Demos also impresses as George, a struggling wrestler on the cusp of discovering his new "gorgeous" and famously flamboyant persona while Tyler Posey conveys conflicted feelings as Billy's son, working around his dad to help Mildred. 

Mildred's thrillingly contested 1954 championship match with Byers may blur the lines of entertainment and reality, but her real opponent is Billy and the other promoters who followed in his footsteps. With them ensuring that her designation as the "first million-dollar female athlete" is mostly forgotten, it'll take until the mid 2010's for women's wrestling to get its proper due, only recently rivaling the men in popularity. Vince McMahon Jr. isn't portrayed in the film, but briefly mentioned in a clever context by his father, Vince Sr. That seems fitting considering how this film's greedy promoter previews what the younger McMahon later does, only on a much larger scale.  

Entertaining and smartly written, Queen of the Ring is the type of project that could have packed theaters in an earlier moviegoing era, if not for wrestling's public perception at the time. But if an aspirational sports biopic made by the son of the director of Rocky and The Karate Kid now feels more karmically appropriate, harsher truths about those calling the shots still seep through. This is really about the ultimate babyface clearing a path by showing how "lady wrestlers" could draw big crowds. Doing that may have been hard, but proving it to these old school promoters was even harder.                                                          

Black Bag

Director: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Cate Blanchett, Marisa Abela, Tom Burke, Naomie Harris, Regé-Jean Page, Kae Alexander, Ambika Mod, Gustaf Skarsgård, Pierce Brosnan
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)     

In Steven Soderbergh's sleek, stylish espionage thriller Black Bag, a group of suspects find themselves roped into a cerebral chess game by a calculating couple. It's like Clue for intellectuals, respecting the audience's intelligence while succeeding off the strength of its performances and a tightly wound script. Though occasionally difficult to follow on a single viewing, the puzzle pieces gradually fall into place as two of our most captivating actors keep us glued to the screen throughout. 

Only when the film settles in your mind do you realize it's more about trust between partners and the difficulties of making a relationship work. And even in such an inherently duplicitous job, the two leads have this figured out in a way few couples do. They may not trust their spouse indiscriminately, but they've reached an understanding to have each other's backs at any cost, giving them an edge in a profession where that seems unattainable. 

When British intelligence agent George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender) is given a week by his superior Meacham (Gustaf Skarsgård) to investigate the mysterious leak of a top-secret software program known as "Severus," he's informed that one of the five suspects is his wife and fellow SIS operative, Kathryn (Cate Blanchett). But when Meacham's poisoned, George invites the four other suspects to dinner, lowering their inhibitions and playing a game meant to uncover the traitor's identity. 

These suspects include the organization's satellite imagery specialist Clarissa (Marisa Abela), her boyfriend and managing agent Freddie (Tom Burke), another managing agent James (Regé-Jean Page) and his girlfriend Zoe (Naomie Harris), the agency's psychiatrist. But while the couples' dirty laundry is aired, George discovers additional clues that could point to Kathryn as the possible mole. Treading carefully, he digs deeper, while still suspecting the others are hiding something. Inching closer to the truth, he'll have to decide how much to tell Kathryn and weigh whether it's worth jeopardizing his career to protect her.  

The best scenes involve George cooly and calmly gaining the upper hand, whether it's at the dinner table or during an impromptu polygraph test intended to unearth the liar among them. The latter sequence is masterfully edited and scored with a pitter patter rhythm that builds tension as his interrogation escalates from simplistically irrelevant to incriminating. Each of the suspects are smart but have secrets they're hiding from each other and George, which may or may not be directly tied to the Severus program. Either way, these personal and professional relationships become a tangled web George must unravel to find the leak. 

Part James Bond, part George Smiley, a fastidious, subtly menacing Fassbender is decked out in horn-rimmed glasses and a turtleneck to play this seemingly low key man who makes his few words count. Knowing more than he's letting on, he puts viewers in the same boat as these highly capable suspects, any of whom could be behind this. But as shifty as the other couples are, George and Kathryn operate on another level, even when they're on different pages as his suspicions of her grow. In tackling this sophisticated ice queen to perfection, Blanchett expertly keeps us guessing, with both actors leaving little doubt their characters would kill to protect their partner. There's also a great undercurrent showing how George and Kathryn constantly watch each other since they're incapable of shutting that mechanism off. 

The supporting cast is uniformly excellent, especially Abela, who follows her breakout role as Amy Winehouse in Back to Black with another impressive turn as the tough but vulnerable junior agent Clarissa. Going toe-toe with Fassbender, she's the film's scene stealer, bringing different shades to a character who has everything to prove and lose. Regé-Jean Page and Tom Burke are effectively shady, as are Bond vets Naomie Harris and Pierce Brosnan (as the gruff SIS boss), with Harris really shining in her witty exchanges opposite Page. Accompanied by a thorough, extremely detailed explanation, the ending isn't just smart, but makes sense, even if you'll need to run it back in your head a few times.   

Staying a step ahead and knowing more than we do, Black Bag's mostly actionless plot relies on dialogue, sneaky looks, great cinematography and locations to get its points across. And since David Koepp's script can be challenging to decode, viewers are asked to read between the lines, which would usually invite a rewatch, if not for its whole plot serving as a thematic smokescreen for larger, more intriguing themes about fidelity. Well made and thought provoking, it's consistent with the rest of Soderbergh's prolific output, representing the kind of perceptive adult spy drama we could stand to see more of.                                                    

The Pitt (Season 1)

Creator: R. Scott Gemmill
Starring: Noah Wyle, Tracy Ifeachor, Patrick Ball, Katherine LaNasa, Supriya Ganesh, Fiona Dourif, Taylor Dearden, Isa Briones, Gerran Howell, Shabana Azeez, Shawn Hatosy, Jalen Thomas Brooks, Kristin Villanueva, Joanna Going, Deepti Gupta, Michael Hyatt, Jackson Kelly, Krystel V. McNeil, Alexandra Metz, Drew Powell, Brad Dourif
Original Airdate: 2025

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

It's a safe bet that once you've seen a single episode of The Pitt you'll find it impossible to watch another medical drama again. Of course, this might not be much of a surprise considering how tired the genre's become since executive producer John Wells and writer R. Scott Gemmill broke new ground in the mid-90's with ER. But while introducing a formula that would be cribbed by most major network police and legal procedurals, it slowly became a victim of its own popularity, straying further from the life and death stakes the series was originally built on. 

Watching The Pitt, it's easier to believe this is the show those two always wanted to make, sharing more in common with the prestige TV we've been spoiled with over the past decade than Michael Crichton's original creation. How much Gemmill's series resembles a scrapped ER reboot the late author's estate is now suing over is anyone's guess, but in terms of look, pacing, structure, and even how it's shot, this doesn't recall any medical show that's ever aired. 

Unlike so many others in the genre, it isn't a soap opera, but a suspense thriller focused on the ongoing crises faced when treating a litany of patients in an emergency trauma center. That's not to say these doctors don't have personal lives, just that we only see them through their work in the tumultuous confines of this overcrowded, underfunded facility.  

A hospital in every sense, the latest batch of rookies check expectations and medical textbooks at the door to endure a trial by fire on their first day. Risky procedures are shown in agonizing detail, doctors clash over protocol, mistakes are made and lives are lost and saved. And with enough Emmy-worthy turns to fill entire categories, there's an unpredictability that accompanies the discovery of a largely unknown cast of talented actors. Or in the case of one notably brilliant exception, a familiar face returning to give the performance of his career. 

On the fourth anniversary of his mentor Dr. Adamson's death during the COVID pandemic, senior attending physician Dr. Michael "Robby" Rabinavich (Noah Wyle) starts his shift at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital's ER, better known as "The Pitt." As friend and senior resident Dr. Heather Collins (Tracy Ifeachor) expresses concern about him working that day, he insists on it, meeting the four new faces he'll be supervising.

Panicked third-year med student Victoria Javadi (Shabana Azeez), fourth-year student and Nebraska farmboy Dennis Whitaker (Gerran Howell), sarcastic, overconfident intern Dr. Trinity Santos (Isa Briones) and socially awkward second-year resident Dr. Melissa "Mel" King (Taylor Dearden) all arrive green as grass for their first day. Immediately thrown into the fray, they're shown the ropes by arrogant senior resident Dr. Frank Langdon (Patrick Ball) "slow poke" Dr. Samira Mohan (Supriya Ganesh) and beleaguered single mom Dr. Cassie McKay (Fiona Dourif). 

Charge nurse Dana Evans (Katherine LaNasa) is the ER's den mother, holding this department together as doctors face off with disgruntled patients, family members and even each other over how to best provide life saving care while red tape and funding issues hinder resources. And as Robby gradually unravels by the hour, he'll also have to deal with chief medical officer Gloria Underwood (Michael Hyatt) badgering him over low patient satisfaction scores. But just when everyone thinks this shift can't possibly get any worse, it does, in the form of a catastrophic mass casualty event.

Each episode unfolds in real time, playing out over the span of 15-hour shift that, despite a breakneck pace, actually seems longer because of the attention given to every character. As the physicians persevere to treat one life threatening case after another, patients come and go, some sticking around for what amounts to a season long arc over the course of this single chaotic day. The gripping format allows cases to be depicted from the moment of a patient's arrival to completion, no matter how tragic or uplifting the result.

After different physicians exhaust a variety of options in attempting to pinpoint a diagnosis, deciding on the best possible treatment often leads to blowups among staff and uncooperative patients. But some of the most explosive confrontations take place in the packed waiting room filled with fuming patients who go unseen for hours, taken in order of priority. The show's structure also toys with our perception of time, like when Robby just can't get to the bathroom for an episode and a half. Amidst the mayhem, we've already forgotten along with him, until he finally makes it, only to be interrupted again.

The most memorable cases are serious, complicated ones that span multiple hours. They include an elderly man with pneumonia whose adult children are trying to override his DNR request, a mother who made herself sick in order to get psychiatric help for her troubled teen son, a woman suffering from sickle cell disease, a college student left brain-dead after overdosing on Xanax laced with fentanyl, a man drugged by his wife after she suspects him of molesting their teen daughter and a little girl battling to survive after saving her drowning sister. And while that doesn't cover nearly an eighth of it, all usually involve ethical dilemmas that extend well beyond the parameters of strict medical care. 

As senior attending, everything goes through the seemingly unshakeable Robby, who has final say, or as much of one as possible under the circumstances. A great teacher, he'll also listen to conflicting viewpoints before putting his foot down, occasionally falling prey to his own stubbornness. And while he won't hesitate to bend or break the rules to save a life, he'll discourage others from doing the same if it carries unnecessary risks. This is especially true of new residents needing protection from their own worst impulses. 

None of the patients they lose are merely tagged and shipped to the morgue without thought or reflection as the ramifications of their deaths are respectfully acknowledged by Robby and his team. While these experiences can serve as teachable moments, more often than not, it's no one's fault, even if that rarely stops the doctors from blaming themselves or each other. 

If Robby's day is rough, the quietly confident Collins has it worse as she attempts to keep her pregnancy a secret in the middle of an increasingly stressful shift. The charismatically rebellious Langdon plays favorites, forming a warm bond with one resident while mercilessly riding another, kicking off a feud that could lead to his own undoing. Singled out by Robby for her slowness, Mohan must balance his criticisms of her pace with an emotional desire to comfort and reassure her patients. And as McKay butts heads with Robby over his handling of a potentially dangerous teen, her own legal challenges become an open secret, rearing its head at the worst possible time. But these physicians are constantly jumping from case to case, shutting out external distractions to effectively perform complicated procedures under extreme pressure.

Much of the show remains fixed on these newcomers, each of whom brings something different as they try to find their sea legs. Briones's Santos emerges as the most abrasive, her insults and pushiness masking an insecurity that propels her to go over superiors' heads and take wild chances. But she'll find a valuable backer in strict, hard-nosed surgeon Dr. Yolanda Garcia (Alexandra Metz), who likely sees her younger self in this brash, eager resident with poor bedside. 

It's only after Santos is humbled by a humiliating error does she dial back the attitude and impulsiveness long enough for us to appreciate her instincts. She may carry a lot of baggage, but Briones takes her controversial resident on a journey that finishes in a better place than it started. On the other hand, prodigal med student Victoria is intimidated by the shadow cast by her mom, a respected senior attending at the hospital. Nervously searching for the "special sauce" that will distinguish her as a doctor, she displays an almost comic knack for saying or doing the wrong thing at the most inopportune moment. But even while radiating a relatable goofiness in social situations, her skills are plainly obvious.

The underconfident Whitaker isn't only the most likable of the four, but shows the most potential, even earning Robby's early endorsement. And Howell is superb in a role that sees his character pulled in every direction, partially due to understaffing, but also because they know he can do this, whether or not he realizes it yet. Gaining courage as the shift wears on, he proves adept at connecting with patients on a basic human level, especially the ones you'd least expect. And him having to constantly change scrubs after each new encounter covers him in a different deluge of bodily fluids is the season's best running gag. 

Despite or maybe partially because of her awkwardness, Taylor Dearden's neurodivergent resident Mel is a walking medical encyclopedia, meticulously focused on coming up with the right solutions and implementing them without hesitation. As the caregiver for her autistic sister, she also listens intently to patients, displaying an astounding level of knowledge and sensitivity that leaves an impressed Langford scratching his head. It's an unusually nuanced part Dearden already seems to have mastered, with her character justifiably emerging as a fan favorite.

The series reaches explosive, pulse pounding heights in episodes 12 and 13 when an active shooting sends an influx of patients into the ER, forcing the hospital to implement mass casualty protocols. With all hands on deck, multiple stories converge as Robby's trauma finally bubbles over, bringing him to the brink. With painful personal ties to this tragedy, he'll find himself at his lowest point, until rescue comes from a surprising source. In a season full of them, this is Wyle's most shattering moment.  

If Clooney was immediately tagged as ER's next big movie star, most know that Wyle and Anthony Edwards carried it from the jump. But Wyle was always the show's character actor in disguise, reaffirming that here with a deeper, more intensely complex role that has little in common with his Dr. John Carter other than a stethoscope. The beating heart of this series, he's a down-to-earth, flawed, but honestly empathetic everyman struggling to save every life and maintain his own sanity in the face of overwhelming odds. 

Though Robby's the captain, he won't dare ask for help, but gets it anyway in the form of close friend and colleague Dr. Abbot (a terrific Shawn Hatosy), who has some tricks of his own to show these overwhelmed residents. As critically wounded patients flood The Pitt, it transforms into a war triage unit equipped with a very specific system for assessing the severity of injuries. 

If the series was already moving at an impossibly fast clip, these two hours are its apex. And before it's over, the widely beloved Dana and far less popular Langford will find themselves at a career crossroads for entirely different reasons. Even Robby's beaurocratic nemesis Gloria isn't treated as a one-dimensional villain, but a person also trying to do her job, as thankless and unwelcome as it is.    

When it's over we're in disbelief that any of these doctors somehow survived the shift. A few don't want to leave while others just can't physically or emotionally bring themselves to. But once they do, we get the tiniest glimpse of their outside lives as they attempt to unwind. It's just enough, but not too much, as the show earns this with writing and acting that goes beyond anything else currently on TV. Left with more than a twinge of disappointment that our time with these characters has to end, it's softened by the realization all of them will return to do it again. And we'll still be watching. 

Don't Move

Directors: Adam Schindler and Brian Netto
Starring: Kelsey Asbille, Finn Wittrock, Moray Treadwell, Daniel Francis
Running Time: 92 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)    

You'd figure the lesson to extract from directors Adam Schindler and Brian Netto's efficiently suspenseful Netflix thriller Don't Move is that traveling alone to a secluded park early in the morning isn't the best idea. But after the unimaginable loss this film's heroin suffers, personal safety wouldn't be a priority. She's there to kill herself, or at least that's the plan. And once we know the details of her pain, the motivation is clearer, regardless of our feelings about the choice. What happens instead not only gives her an incentive to live, but fight, much to her assailant's frustration. 

Calculated in certain ways but immensely sloppy in others, her abductor has a plan, but as one mistake leads to another, he'll have to contend with a resourceful protagonist who won't give in. That she contemplated suicide only minutes earlier is the cruel irony of a script that wrings tension out of how helplessly insulting it is to have a psychotic stranger decide your fate. Produced by Sam Raimi, it seems like the type of project you'd see him tackling in his early days, which isn't to say it's flawless by any stretch. But with a premise keeps you engaged for a tight, pulse pounding hour and a half, it wisely utilizes its ticking clock to raise the stakes and generate suspense.

Still grieving the accidental death of her son Mateo during a family hike, Iris (Kelsey Asbille) gets up early to drive to a California state park while her husband sleeps in bed. After placing Mateo's toy boat at his memorial under a tree, she approaches the edge of the cliff and prepares to jump before being interrupted by Richard (Finn Wittrock), a seemingly concerned passerby out for a walk.

When the two converse over the shared pain of losing a loved one, Iris has second thoughts, only to have Richard taze and kidnap her. Zip tied in the back of his car, she struggles to escape before discovering his backup plan. Earlier, he injected her with a paralyzing agent, its effects now just starting to take hold as she desperately crawls through the woods. Losing all muscle control and the ability to speak, Iris's breathing rapidly slows while a deranged Richard closes in, looking to finish her for good.

Much of the setup takes place before its title credits, but once this stranger reveals his true colors, he immediately starts making errors. Either he's playing mind games or the mental stress of leading a Dexter-like double life stand as the only feasible explanations for his carelessness. Luckily, Wittrock (who resembles a crazed Johnny Knoxville) injects some life into the somewhat tired trope of normal family man with a dark side, ensuring his character's instability accounts for any logic gaps. And while he could still use about five more contingency plans, his biggest problem is assuming he'll have all the time in the world to kill Iris. Though her paralysis comes on fast, the drug's effects will eventually wear off, if she can make it that long.

Those familiar with Asbille through TV's Yellowstone are in for a surprise when they see what she does in a more challenging role that requires her to go long, motionless stretches in total silence, using only her eyes and breathing to communicate the escalating severity of this life and death predicament. It's especially noticeable in an extended cabin sequence where her mute, incapacitated character hides in plain sight, watching in horror as Richard manipulates the residence's owner. Or a tension-filled stop at a gas station where she competes against her own failing body in a last ditch effort to seek help. 

The longer this goes the lower Iris's survival odds drop, and while it's a stretch to call Don't Move unpredictable, it does have some clever tricks up its sleeve in how she manages to turn the tables. So while you could still pick it apart, this has less issues than most in the genre, as well as a high concept carrying it through. The closest comparison is 2024's acclaimed cult hit Strange Darling, minus the twisty, non-linear storytelling. What does unfold is a similar cat-and-mouse game between a killer and their prey, as this sadistic control freak terrorizes a woman with nothing left to lose.