Entertainment
Anne Hathaway's Out Of Control In Netflix's R-Rated Sci-Fi Comedy
By Robert Scucci
| Published
When I was younger and still looking to make reckless decisions, there was a friend in my group who we referred to as the Hurricane. The reason we called him that was because when he had a few too many drinks, he’d start destroying things for fun. He was the kind of person who would bodyslam himself through a beer pong table or run full speed into a display at the convenience store while we were looking for a quick, late-night snack. We stopped hanging out with him because the collateral damage left in his wake was a blast radius we no longer felt like cleaning up.
Watching 2016’s Colossal brought back memories of those days because its protagonist is similarly destructive while drinking, though in ways that don’t mirror real life. Here, our hero Gloria (Anne Hathaway) finds her body controlling a Godzilla-like creature located in Seoul, South Korea whenever she gets wasted in her hometown of Mainhead, New Hampshire.
Splitting its narrative between both locations, Colossal tells a story about a woman coming to terms with her self-destructive behavior because she has to. Her actions have very real consequences on the other side of the world. Whenever she gets lost in the sauce, a single step in the wrong direction could destroy buildings and kill hundreds of people.
Unemployed Writer Turned Godzilla
When Colossal introduces us to Gloria, she’s an absolute wreck. An unemployed writer who’s hitting the bottle a little too hard, Gloria is kicked out of her New York City apartment by her boyfriend Tim (Dan Stevens), who’s had enough of her late-night blackouts and violent hangovers. With no job prospects or anywhere to live, Gloria moves back to her now-empty family home in Mainhead, New Hampshire to get her head on straight and figure out her next steps. There, she meets up with Oscar (Jason Sudeikis), a childhood friend she hadn’t talked to in years.
Taking Oscar up on his offer to help out at the bar his late father left him, Gloria finally has work, but more often than not spends her time on the clock getting drunk with Oscar and his other employees, Joel (Austin Stowell) and Garth (Tim Blake Nelson). Closing up shop and stumbling home around the same time the school day starts for the neighborhood children, Gloria cuts through the local playground at 8:05 am, thinking nothing of it until she watches the news later that day.
When Gloria learns about the giant, Godzilla-like creature attacking Seoul, South Korea, she’s at first panicked by the global implications. Those worries shift when she notices the correlation between her presence on the playground and the monster’s appearance. Though it makes no logical sense, Gloria surmises that her body is remotely controlling the monster, and she has the power to destroy entire city blocks just by waving her arms around. This remote relationship with the creature is confirmed when the monster is attacked by the military, as Gloria also feels pain when helicopters and rockets crash into it.
After explaining this phenomenon to her friends, Oscar learns that the same thing happens to him when he enters the playground at the same time. In Oscar’s case, however, he turns into a giant robot. Gloria is horrified by the amount of damage she is capable of causing and vows to quit drinking so nobody else gets hurt. Oscar, on the other hand, gets a sick thrill out of the power that he possesses and turns it into a deadly game whenever he lets the booze take control.
An Anthropromorphized Allegory
While it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s happening in Colossal, it’s still a clever way to look at how Gloria’s self-destructive behavior affects more than just herself. Every time she steps onto the playground, hundreds of people are displaced or killed by the monster she controls. Just like for any person in your life who may not be able to control themselves when they party a little too hard, there are unintended, potentially wide-reaching consequences tied directly to their actions that could be avoided entirely if they just stopped doing what they’re doing.
In Gloria’s case, her drinking compromises her relationship with Tim, and her subsequent spiral causes a catastrophic amount of damage far away from where she’s located physically. While all she has to do is sleep off a hangover after stumbling home, other people have to deal with her mess, which rings true for anybody who’s ever been friends with this kind of person.
What separates Oscar from Gloria is that he’s totally fine with the way things are shaking out. Gloria feels remorse and vows to improve her situation by attempting to go sober. Oscar, on the other hand, likes the power he wields over the citizens of Seoul and loves to watch the world burn because he wants everybody to be as miserable as he is. These two personalities, constantly at odds with each other, make for a compelling drama on their own. Colossal takes this tension and turns it into a literal battle between a giant reptile and a robot, using Seoul as their battleground while the whole world watches on TV.
Colossal starts off feeling like two different movies, and in many ways it is. If you remove the monsters, you get a dramedy about a woman moving back to her hometown to face her personal demons. If you remove Gloria, you get a lizard fighting a robot with zero context.
Together, they make for an interesting allegory about substance abuse and facing yourself after your bad habits destroy your life. To experience both of these stories converging in a single place, all you need to do is stream Colossal on Netflix.
Entertainment
Raunchy, 60s Sci-Fi Comedy Is A Wild Alien Invasion
By Robert Scucci
| Published
Whenever an older movie on streaming starts with a disclaimer stating, “The content you are about to view features depictions that are objectionable,” you know they’re trying to save face for something. 1962’s Invasion of the Star Creatures has this disclaimer, and it took me a minute to figure out why. It’s a movie about an invasion of very tall, sexy alien women who plan to take over planet Earth. Accompanying them are their male, plant-based counterparts who possess superhuman strength. Caught in the middle are two military privates who fall in love with the women while carrying themselves in slapstick fashion like Laurel and Hardy or the Marx Brothers.
It’s all pretty standard stuff, and my initial notes on this shlocky sci-fi adventure stated, “Anybody offended by this in 2026 needs therapy.” In my mind, that was a solid take. The alien women in Invasion of the Star Creatures are powerful and completely in control. Privates Philbrick (Robert Ball) and Penn (Frank Ray Perilli) are bumbling idiots who just so happen to be attracted to them. Their Sergeant (Trustin Howard) is a walking caricature who loves barking orders. It’s broad. It’s silly. It’s what you’d expect.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere, everybody’s smoking a peace pipe with a Native American tribe, and I began to understand why this film had a disclaimer at the beginning. I can’t say it’s grossly offensive by any stretch of the imagination, because Invasion of the Star Creatures is very much a product of its time. Its disclaimer even concludes with, “We present this material for its historical value. We strongly believe that awareness of yesterday’s prejudice and its lasting effects can be enhanced when that prejudice is seen through the lens of the entertainment it informed at the time.”
In other words, Invasion of the Star Creatures is objectionable to some in spots, but with the early 60s context in mind, it’s still a fun watch if you’re willing to look past your modern bias.
It’s Just Goofy Slapstick With An Alien Plot
Invasion of the Star Creatures tells a painfully simple story about Privates Philbrick and Penn, two military idiots so useless they’re relegated to trash duty and other humiliating tasks around the barracks. Despite their buffoonery, they’re summoned by their Sergeant to investigate a cavern that suddenly appears on the military’s radar.
They enter the cavern and are immediately accosted and kidnapped by giant vegetable creatures. These creatures lead Philbrick and Penn to their female alien overlords, Dr. Puna (Joanne Arnold) and Professor Tanga (Dolores Reed). Initially overpowered, Philbrick accidentally learns that kissing the aliens incapacitates them briefly after trying to make out with Dr. Puna.
Realizing they can’t handle an impending alien invasion alone despite knowing their weakness, the privates head back to base, explain everything to the Sergeant, and return to the cavern. Along the way, they have a run-in with friendly Native Americans who love to smoke their peace pipe, sing nonsense syllables, and dance the day away.
Now, I could be way off base here, but I’m fairly certain this is why Invasion of the Star Creatures opens with a disclaimer. It’s not misogynistic. It’s not even casually demeaning toward women, who in this case overpower their human counterparts with ease and speak with confident authority. If there were no disclaimer in front of this B movie from the 1960s, I wouldn’t even think twice about it because this is more or less what you sign up for when watching movies of this caliber from this era.
Streaming Invasion Of The Star Creatures
While the Native Americans may be depicted in objectionable ways, they’re also depicted as helpful and self-sufficient, and their presence drives the story forward. On the flip side, literally anybody else could have helped Philbrick, Penn, and Sergeant along on their trip to the cavern, so in that regard, it is a pretty wild creative choice, but one that ranks low on my personal offenso-meter.
Invasion of the Star Creatures is a solid B movie, and that’s all it ever needs to be. It’s the kind of slapstick that makes you want to say “yuk, yuk, yuk,” and slap your knee, and there’s really no need to overthink this one. It’s fun. It’s fine. Choices were made. You don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to.
If you want to see what all the fuss is about, though, Invasion of the Star Creatures is currently streaming for free on Tubi.
Entertainment
This Overlooked Anime Classic Does Podracing Better Than Star Wars
By Chris Snellgrove
| Published
It’s kind of a weird time to be a Star Wars fan: the Sequel Trilogy was a bust, over half the shows are disappointing, and Disney has more canceled projects than Jawas have droid parts. This is doubly frustrating because the formula for these movies doesn’t seem all that hard to crack. Surely, after nearly half a century, somebody in charge can figure out what worked and what didn’t work for earlier movies, right?
While we’re still waiting for Disney to do something interesting with this galaxy far, far away, but it took a completely different company to create the perfect tribute to Star Wars. Redline (2009) is basically one big pod race, one filled with the coolest action and the freakiest aliens this side of Tatooine. Fortunately, you don’t need the Force to discover this overlooked anime masterpiece: all you have to do is grab your remote and head to Tubi, where you can stream this full-throttle film for free!
Shut Up And Drive
The premise of Redline is that a professional racer participates in a scheme to fix a race, all to get himself and a buddy out of trouble with the mafia. He comes in second place, but after some other drivers drop out, he qualifies for Redline, an upcoming race that will take place on a planet ruled by fascist robots. There, he will face a choice that could define the rest of his life: to keep fixing races or go for the prize, which would establish him as the greatest racer in the entire galaxy.
Unfortunately, Redline was a box office flop when it was first released, earning only about $8.5 million against a budget estimated to be as high as $30 million. Later, the movie achieved a major cult following on home video and streaming, and it made a particular impact on anime superfans who were looking for something new. Thanks to its minimal plot, thumping soundtrack, and high-octane animation, Redline quickly established itself as the perfect movie for anyone looking to just kick back and enjoy an unforgettable cinematic ride.
A Film Of Dazzling Beauty
When Redline raced into theaters, it impressed reviewers with its style and delightfully unhinged energy. On Rotten Tomatoes, it had a rating of 70 percent, with critics praising the movie for its relentless pace and hypnotically beautiful animation. Notably, the film had an audience rating of 90 percent, indicating that it impressed the collective anime fandom even more than it impressed the professional critics.
I recently showed Redline to my wife, and we agreed that the movie embraced a very unique storytelling philosophy: all world, no building. The film presents a very rich fictional universe populated with exotic aliens, mindblowing technology, and even a little bit of space magic. But you get almost no exposition or explanation regarding any of these elements, forcing you to figure everything out on the fly.
All World, No Building
This storytelling method may be annoying to certain viewers, especially those who were clamoring for a meatier plot. However, I would argue that this effectively makes Redline more immersive because, like the charismatic racer protagonist, everyone watching is just along for the ride. You can try to get a handle on this chaotic cosmos of characters, or you can do what I did: just tune out all the noise and focus on the buttery-smooth animation that brings this celebration of speed to life.
While Redline is great for anime fans and anyone who loves a good car chase, the film is certain to resonate even more with fans who loved the podracing sequence in The Phantom Menace. That first prequel was deeply flawed, but most Star Wars fans agree that the podrace was great because it simplified this galaxy far, far away down to its most basic elements: exotic characters doing something both cool and dangerous. That narrative spirit is alive and well with Redline, a movie whose chief appeal is seeing colorful aliens pushing their high-tech hotrods to the limit in order to emerge as the greatest racer in the galaxy.
Buddies, Brews, Bots, And Battles
In the end, reviewing Redline is almost an exercise in futility: this is more of an experience than a movie, one in which a kaleidoscope of colors and a hypnotic soundtrack combine with some of the craziest visuals ever put onscreen. It’s truly one of a kind and unlike any film before or since. As such, it’s a film you owe yourself to check out, especially if you’ve been hungry for a movie capable of completely blowing your mind.
If you’re ready to take the ride, you don’t even have to buy a ticket: Redline is currently streaming for free on Tubi. It’s a movie best played loud and experienced on the biggest television you can find. Just be careful: by the time the credits roll, you might be tempted to shop for a new muscle car and turn your daily commute into a madcap race for the finish line!
Entertainment
Soft Scramble with Shallots & Comté
Actual question: How do you like your eggs? Your scrambled eggs, specifically? Are you a firm-and-folded person? A loose-and-scoopable fan? “There is no such thing as a perfectly scrambled egg,” writes Ella Quittner in her new extremely fun cookbook, Obsessed with the Best. In it, Ella tries out every possible cooking method, to find the best routes to classic dishes: juicy roast chicken, melty cabbage, chewy chocolate chip cookies, or in this case, soft-scrambled eggs. “So custardy that they’re halfway to dessert,” she says.
After dozens of trials, Ella developed her own precise (but very doable) technique for achieving, if not the perfect scrambled egg — because that is, of course, subjective — then certainly the softest and creamiest. “This is one of my favorite solo dinners on a busy night,” says Ella. “I love that it takes such little time and effort, but tastes like something you’d pay an arm and a leg for in a brunch restaurant.” Serve with a cold glass of white wine, she says, “and well-buttered toast — of course.” Well, naturally.
Here’s Ella’s method:
Caramelized Shallot Soft Scramble with Comté
From Obsessed with the Best, by Ella Quittner
Serves 1
3 eggs, cold from the refrigerator
1/2 tsp Diamond Crystal kosher salt, plus a pinch for the shallots
1 heaping tbsp cold crème fraîche
3 tbsp salted butter
1 large or 2 medium shallots, peeled and finely diced
1/4 cup grated Comté cheese
Flaky salt
Freshly cracked black pepper
Note: While Ella’s recipe calls for shallots, she notes that you can swap them for any allium — like yellow onion or leeks.
Crack the eggs into a small bowl. Add the kosher salt. Use a fork to break the yolks, then forcefully whisk the eggs together for 30 seconds, or until totally homogeneous. Add the crème fraîche to the eggs in 5 or so little portions (so it’s not all in one clump). Refrigerate the bowl while you cook the shallots.
Set a small-to-medium skillet (nonstick, stainless steel, or well-seasoned carbon steel) over a high heat. Drop in 2 tablespoons of the butter. When it melts and foams, adjust the heat to medium-low and add the shallots with a pinch of kosher salt. Sauté, keeping the heat moderate to avoid burning the butter, for 8-10 minutes, until the shallots are translucent and browning around the edges and they taste sweet and concentrated.
Turn the heat to low and push the shallots to the sides of the skillet. After about 1 minute, add the remaining tablespoon of butter. Add the cold eggs. Do not touch them for 90 seconds! Seriously, I’ll know. After 90 seconds, the eggs should have begun to set up around the sides, like the very early stages of a French omelet. Rotate the pan 180 degrees, so its handle is facing the opposite way it was facing before. Use a silicone spatula to draw in the eggs and shallots from the edges, almost to the middle, but off to one side by a few degrees — like the spatula is a pilot taking a plane just off course. As you scrape toward the middle, be sure to scrape under the set eggs you’ve just drawn inward before moving on to the next stroke.
Don’t touch for another 90 seconds! I’ll definitely know. After 90 seconds, repeat this spatula motion. Sprinkle the grated Comté over the middle of the eggs, where the large, set curds are hanging out. Turn the heat up to medium for 20-40 seconds, and finish cooking any runny egg around the edges that has stubbornly refused to firm up. Pull the eggs from the heat while still glossy on top, and slide onto a plate.
Top with flaky salt and black pepper, and serve.
Thank you so much, Ella! We absolutely love your book.
P.S. Two more egg recipes: an easy make-ahead strata and Austin-style breakfast tacos.
(Photos by Michael Graydon and Nikole Herriott. Excerpted from Obsessed with the Best by Ella Quittner, on sale now from HarperCollins Publishers. Copyright © 2026 by Ella Quittner. All rights reserved.)
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