Jae Hudson

(Main Show) The Walking Dead was honestly a phenomenon when it first came to our screens. I’d never seen anything like it, and as a teenager at the time, I was completely engrossed, truly invested in the characters brought before our eyes. It felt real, grounded, and it made us question how far someone would go to survive. It really was a brilliant post-apocalyptic zombie story and series. At its best, it felt like an event, ending on major, exciting cliff-hangers, developing iconic characters, and keeping you on the edge of your seat. There was always anxiety over who might go next. The show was brave, unafraid to make bold choices and test the audience. Rick Grimes truly carried this show on his back. He was the face of The Walking Dead, brought to life iconically by Andrew Lincoln. The show was stacked with talent and often written so well that you cared deeply for each character’s story. Now, most of this praise applies to the first half of the series, where it truly thrived. From Seasons 1 to 7, The Walking Dead was near its best. After that, I became frustrated by certain story and character choices. There were simply too many characters, too many subplots. The show began to feel more like a soap opera. The zombies, once terrifying and central, faded into the background, merely reminders of what the show used to be. It felt like the show was holding onto something that no longer worked through the latter part of the series until internal changes were made. Though I did check out after Season 9. I eventually returned, but mostly out of loyalty rather than excitement. That said, The Walking Dead still gave us some of the best storytelling ever seen on TV, with brilliant villains and unforgettable arcs inspired by its comic roots. The early seasons remain a masterpiece of suspense, emotion, and humanity. It’s a show I both love and dislike, but those early years still bring me joy, nostalgia, and yes… a little trauma.

I’ve watched Chris Stuckmann’s reviews for perhaps a decade now, and I’ve always admired his passion for movies and filmmaking. Seeing him go from YouTube critic to professional filmmaker, I knew I had to support his debut film, Shelby Oaks. This movie reminded me why you should never fully listen to critics before watching something yourself. I’d seen a few negative takes that made me nervous, but I’m glad I ignored them, because Shelby Oaks gave me a terrifyingly great time. It was just me and my brother at the screening, and while that was a bit sad (I wish more people went to see it), the empty cinema actually made the amplified the experience. The movie starts strong, instantly pulling you into its mystery. It opens with a documentary-style, handheld feel that immerses you right away. The pacing was consistent, I never felt bored. Instead, it kept building tension and paranoia to the point where I started feeling watched. I found myself scanning the background of every shot, waiting to catch something lurking. The cinematography, performances, and direction were all impressive. The jump scares felt earned, not cheap, and the suspense built so effectively that at one point I just wanted the scare to finally happen. The story was mostly strong, though I did find myself asking a few questions by the end. Still, it was more engaging and well thought-out than many thrillers or horror films made by bigger studios. You could really tell everyone involved cared about delivering quality. The “husband” character, however, seemed useless, I won’t go into detail, but he didn’t add much. The third act gets a bit chaotic. There’s one particularly disturbing scene that genuinely unsettled me, and I’m still not sure if that’s a compliment or not. I also tend to prefer horror that stays grounded and mysterious, and Shelby Oaks leans a little too far into the over-the-top paranormal chaos near the end. It slightly pulled me out of what had been a wonderfully tense and believable build up. You can sense the Mike Flanagan influence throughout, fitting, given Flanagan’s support for Stuckmann as a first-time director. Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed Shelby Oaks. I’m not sure if it’ll have the same effect on a second watch anytime soon, but I’d fully recommend it. This is what horror should be about: suspense, earned scares, strong atmosphere, and a story that keeps you invested. Sure, it’s a bit of a mixed bag tonally, part documentary, part found footage, part mystery, part supernatural horror, but that’s also what makes it unique. It’s not a perfect film, but it’s passionate, creative, and full of heart. For a debut, it’s deeply respectable, and it captures everything I love about horror.

This series was something special. Mike Flanagan managed to create not just a haunted house story, but an emotional journey about grief, trauma, and family. It’s dark, heartfelt, and genuinely unsettling in all the right ways. The writing is incredible, slow-burning, atmospheric, and full of depth. It takes its time, letting you sit with these characters and understand the pain that follows them. The cinematography is beautiful, every frame feels intentional, and when the scares hit, they really hit. That said, it’s not perfect. Some episodes drag a little, and the heavy dialogue can make it feel more like a drama than a horror at times. But when you reach those moments of pure dread or emotional payoff, it’s all worth it. Overall, Haunting of Hill House is a masterpiece of storytelling and horror. It’s eerie, emotional, and unforgettable, one of the best modern horror series ever made.

Netflix really wanted me to watch this series, I couldn’t escape it when browsing for something new. Eventually, I gave in and gave it a go, not really knowing what to expect. I found myself really enjoying it at times, but also feeling bored in others. There’s incredible writing and dialogue throughout, with Mike Flanagan doing a great job bringing this story and its remote island setting to life. The show builds an atmospheric, slow-burning tension that keeps you guessing. The series explores religion, blind faith, and so much more. It feels like a supernatural horror, but also a deeply human story about belief and loss. That said, there are a lot of monologues and scenes that drag, leaving me feeling a bit restless and waiting for the next moment to happen. It builds suspense well, but the actual horror moments are few and far between. At times I found myself wondering if it was even a horror, but when those moments do come, they’re the best parts of the show. Overall, it’s not a series I plan to rewatch, but it’s one I’d still recommend out of respect for how well it’s written and the strong moments it delivers.

Perhaps my favourite movie of the year so far. Ryan Coogler once again shows just how good he is at what he does. Sinners is a wonderfully crafted film that allows you to fully immerse yourself in the world it builds. It takes its time bringing the story together, but I never found myself bored, instead, I found myself learning about each character, understanding their stories, and enjoying those moments of joy and peace, knowing deep down where the story was eventually heading. The narrative is well put together and rich in symbolism and thematic depth, touching on race, trauma, culture, and blending a gothic horror tone with the soul of blues music. It’s a beautifully shot film, backed by an incredible soundtrack that ties everything together perfectly. I was genuinely invested in every character, especially Michael B. Jordan’s Smoke Stack Twins. He absolutely stole the show, embodying two distinct characters with complete conviction. Miles Caton was perhaps the biggest surprise, an unknown actor giving a standout performance, supported by his incredible singing voice. Jack O’Connell’s Remmick was mesmerising, bringing both charm and fear to his role. Honestly, the entire cast was excellent. The film isn’t perfect, a few scenes took me out of it briefly, and while it was marketed as a horror, it sometimes lacked the suspense and scares typically expected from the genre. Overall, Sinners is everything I want more of in cinema today, a movie where the writer and director clearly had full creative control. It feels original, fresh, and genuinely exciting.

Mission Impossible 3 felt like it continued to build on the franchise and Ethan’s story. I liked that we got to see more depth to his character, trying to live somewhat of a normal life, fall in love, but ultimately knowing his job will always get in the way. This movie is your typical spy action film, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but personally I found some parts quite cheesy. Some of the writing and whispered dialogue really took me out of the movie at times. I did really like how it opened, the tone was set instantly and you’re taken on the journey of how it all led to that moment. The stakes felt high and it caught my attention straight away. It was definitely better than the previous entry, but I still find myself struggling to really enjoy these movies. I’d say they’re an acquired taste, just not mine.

For me, working through these Mission: Impossible films feels like a bit of a chore, but given how positively they’re spoken about, I thought it was fair to give them a chance. Mission: Impossible 2 definitely feels like a step up in terms of sheer entertainment compared to the first, leaning hard into action, though the plot suffers slightly as a result. Tom Cruise deserves respect here, his commitment to the stunts is impressive and really elevates the film. You can clearly see this entry pushing toward a full-on action blockbuster vibe. That said, the movie itself is a little forgettable; I struggle to recall much beyond certain sequences and the action scenes they delivered. Overall, it’s a tough watch for me personally. There are some cool action scenes, but it doesn’t leave a lasting impression beyond Tom Cruise’s performance and the set pieces.

Growing up, Mission: Impossible never really clicked with me. Despite loving spy thrillers and action films, it wasn’t something I considered a must-watch. That said, I can absolutely see why the franchise became iconic, starting with that instantly recognisable theme song, which has become legendary in its own right. I watched it within the last year, and honestly, it didn’t leave a huge impression on me, either positively or negatively. There were elements I appreciate, the espionage, the intrigue, and the way it lays the foundation for a larger world and characters, particularly Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt. You can see the potential for the story to expand, which the later films clearly capitalise on. Overall, it’s not a movie I personally connected with or plan to rewatch anytime soon, but I’m willing to give the franchise a chance and see where it goes.

How to Train Your Dragon was truly a breath of fresh air. I actually watched it years after its release, but I’d always heard so many positive things about it. My first real introduction to the world was through the animated TV show, which I ended up watching while on holiday. I got completely hooked, episode after episode. I was a bit homesick at the time, and that show became my comfort watch. When I got home, I immediately went and watched the movie and I loved it. The concept alone is brilliant. A Viking community that hunts dragons, a world where fear and misunderstanding drive conflict ,and one outcast who changes everything by forming a friendship with the very creature they’re taught to hate. Watching that bond between Hiccup and Toothless grow is just something special. The story is heartfelt and perfectly balanced. It captures what makes animated films so timeless, real emotion, humour, and adventure all wrapped into one. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found myself appreciating these kinds of movies even more. You connect with the characters, the themes, and the heart behind it all, while still just enjoying the magic of the film. Overall, How to Train Your Dragon is a solid, beautifully made film that laid the perfect foundation for something greater. It knew exactly what it wanted to be, and it delivered on every level.

With the track record of recent live-action adaptations, I’ll admit I wasn’t overly optimistic going into this one. But I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. From start to finish, this was a genuinely enjoyable experience. What stood out most to me is how faithful it stayed to the original animation. It didn’t try to reinvent itself with unnecessary scenes, new characters, or altered storylines. It was brave enough to simply retell what already worked so beautiful that’s exactly why it succeeded. The flight scene still hits just as hard, especially with that iconic music soaring in the background. It’s a moment that gave me goosebumps all over again. The casting was great, the special effects were impressive, and the spirit of the original truly lived on through this adaptation. It’s a movie that restored a bit of my faith that live-action remakes can work when handled with care. I really hope a sequel is on the horizon, because this story, and these characters, certainly deserve one.