Their Satanic Majesties Request – The Rolling Stones

This has to be one of the most bizarre Stones records I’ve heard. I picked it up as a blind spot, knowing only one track and little else about the background. To be honest, I didn’t even know the Rolling Stones had a psychedelic “phase,” which is probably too wide a term considering it appears to have lasted for just this one album. It is understandable the desire to compete with the Beatles and Sgt. Pepper, but I would say it was not very effective. Obviously, they must have agreed since the follow-up began an unassailable run of albums—at least four, but possibly as many as eight?—all of which went back to the core sound rooted in blues. All of those, in fact, I prefer to this one. This was a fascinating experiment, and one I would actually like to return to at some point despite my misgivings.

Hamnet (2025)

I found the pacing of this film to be odd, and when I looked around online after watching it, I saw others feeling the same way. Anecdotally, though, it seems like people tend to form into one of two opposing opinions about the film’s ending: it either confirms the slow pace and does not resolve well or justifies the slow build and earns the emotional payoff. It was good to see my feelings echoed online, because I was very much in the latter category. It takes twenty-five minutes for the love story to develop, the title character is not even revealed until minute forty or thereabouts. This hardly gives time to develop a meaningful connection before he is abruptly killed, propelling us to the climax. But then, the conclusion is spell-binding. By way the mother and her brother, we go from feeling the playwright’s absent coldness to losing his son, to realizing he has actually expressed his grief in the most public way possible. The mother achieves a sense of catharsis by watching a tragic play as personal elegy intended only for her despite being surrounded by a hundred different people having a hundred different feelings of their own. This film is a perfect example of art as healing—for both creator and consumer.

Viridiana (1961)

From what other Buñuel I've seen, I had expected this to be far more surrealist. Instead, this was a straightforward film with gorgeous scenery, set almost entirely in a Spanish villa. The film was beautiful, even if the messaging fell short for me. For vague reasons, the title character visits her wealthy, estranged relative, just as she is about to achieve her life goal, which ends up derailing her life. Without sacrificing her goodness, she is able to make the most of a new situation, only for her intentions to betray her, and leave her empty. She is, quite literally, assaulted by those above and below her place in life, and we are left to believe she is ruined because of it. I realize the intent of the film was to decry the lack of morals of the upper class, but the way the poor were ultimately demonized at the end didn't sit right with me. 

Mile High Madness Anything Goes (AEW, 2/25/2026)

This is not really my style of match, overemphasizing chaos and props, but it was certainly enjoyable for what it was. This was the definition of a spotfest, and I don't necessarily use that as a pejorative. To begin the match, having Jack Perry's music running the entire first two or three minutes was goofy and fun. From there it was quick cuts jumping from action to plunder to more action. Kudos to the Perry, the Rascalz, and the Bucks for wearing similarly colored pants; otherwise, I would have been totally lost in the mayhem. I can't watch too many of these in a row, but I'm good for one or two a year. 

The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap (Game Boy Advance)

Zelda is very much a winter franchise for me. Something about the holiday time inspires me to pick up a game to chip away on. This year, I landed on a new-to-me entry, as I didn’t own a Game Boy Advance growing up, and this game was a blast. While the overworld was a bit trite (forgivable, considering it’s on a mobile device) the dungeon puzzles were highly satisfying. I thought the music, when I remembered to turn up my Game Boy’s volume, was particularly magnificent, directly reminiscent of Ocarina of Time. There were moments I thought I had played this before, but it was only the music grounding me. This was not my favorite Zelda game, not even my favorite 2D Zelda, possibly not even my favorite handheld 2D Zelda, but even a “not my favorite” in this series is still a tremendous game. Especially after feeling burned by the Zelda output on the Switch, this reminded me what I love about the series.