By Robert Scucci
| Published 1 hour ago

Have you ever watched one of those movies that forces you to sit in silence, shudder loudly, and then resume going about your existence as if you weren’t deeply disturbed by the story you just witnessed unfold? This is how I felt after watching 2025’s Mermaid, which begins with Tom Arnold getting killed off-screen by a hideous finned creature that somehow made its way onto his character’s boat, just before saying that this movie is a “love letter to Florida.”

All of my in-laws live in Florida, and I’m always getting sent those crazy “Florida Man” headlines as a way to keep the conversation going. With that context in mind, this is the most Florida thing I’ve ever seen. On the surface, it’s a story about an unemployed fish tank cleaner who finds a wounded mermaid (after she kills Tom Arnold, who’s never seen or heard from again in this film), intending to nurse her back to health before letting her back out into the wild.

Beneath that murky, chummy water, though, is a much deeper story about addiction, purpose, and trying to find connection in a world that’s more isolated than ever. Mermaid is also morbidly hilarious and features some of the most repulsive creature designs I’ve ever seen, which makes the whole thing feel like a waking nightmare.

If you’re from Florida, you may want to give Mermaid a go for its sheer ridiculousness alone. But you really don’t need much context beyond the above description to know you’re about to take a deep dive into a world that doesn’t seem real at first, but hits uncomfortably close to home if you’ve ever watched somebody close to you lose themselves to addiction.

Not You’re Average Ariel

Mermaid centers on our supremely likeable but completely tapped-out Doug (Johnny Pemberton), who makes an honest but meager living cleaning fish tanks. When we first meet him, he’s getting fired from his strip club job because, according to his boss, nobody shows up for the massive fish tank. We learn how lonely and isolated Doug’s life is during his usual custody visit with his daughter, Layla (Devyn McDowell). He tries to connect with her on the most fundamental level, but she’d rather go home and spend time with her mother, Tina (Julia Valentine Larson), and stepfather, Keith (Kevin Nealon).

Outside of his dysfunctional former family life, Doug is hopelessly addicted to various substances. If he’s not drinking, he’s popping pills, and if he’s not popping pills, it probably means he’s out of money, which incenses his late father’s friend and local drug dealer, Ron Bocca (Robert Patrick), and his son, Gator (Tyler Rice), who doubles as his enforcer. Doug owes Ron a ton of money, which the latter is willing to let slide given how long they’ve known each other, but their relationship has hit a boiling point. Before long, the father and son are threatening him and roughing him up.

Which brings us to our titular creature, the mermaid portrayed by Avery Potemri. While wandering the marina and contemplating suicide one day, Doug discovers the boat from the beginning of the film and decides to take the creature in and nurse it back to health. This mermaid is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and it’s truly the stuff of nightmares. It’s also implied that the mermaid is an apex predator, and if she were actually healthy, she’d have no problem ripping somebody’s throat out without hesitation if she felt threatened or got hungry.

Doug, in his infinite wisdom, decides to let her live in his apartment, but it’s not even out of some weird, twisted romantic interest or anything like that. He genuinely cares about fish, and this woman is nothing but. He lets her live in his bathtub and feeds her copious amounts of drugs (often crushed up in Spaghettios) so she can properly heal and, hopefully, not kill him in the process. As you would expect, the already fractured family dynamic Doug experiences takes a turn for the worse, and matters only continue to escalate when Ron realizes he could probably exploit the mermaid for financial gain, which would square him up with Doug.

Wasn’t Expecting To Get This Emotional

At its core, Mermaid is a dark comedy about watching somebody lose themselves to addiction. Doug is such a good guy, but he’s also a freakin’ weirdo. He copes with his awkwardness by consuming whatever drugs he can get his hands on, and I don’t think there’s a single second in this movie when he’s not in an altered state or coming down from one. When he decides to bring the mermaid out for his daughter’s birthday, it causes a scene, to say the least, which prompts Tina, Keith, and Layla to show up at his place to deliver an intervention.

There were several times during the film when I truly wondered if the mermaid was real or a figment of Doug’s imagination, but since this isn’t a psychological thriller, and that would be a cop-out, it’s made clear that we’re dealing with an actual mermaid. Most people in this world simply refuse to believe it’s real, even when it’s brought out in public.

While you should definitely be concerned about whether the mermaid is going to eat somebody’s face off, the thing that’s truly alarming about Doug’s relationship with the creature is how much he needs her around. It’s not a romantic interest, however, but rather a platonic one, as far as I can tell. The man is simply so lonely that this is the only living being he can form a meaningful connection with, even if he spends most of his time drugging her and stitching up whatever injuries she sustained before they met. In my mind, he feels like he lost his daughter, and this is his only way to be a nurturing father figure and feel appreciated for it.

The intervention scene, when Layla reads him a poem about how she’s afraid to lose her father, is truly gut-wrenching and makes this whole bizarre movie pull at your heartstrings. But don’t worry, because from that point forward, Mermaid goes full-on Florida and delivers one of the most bizarre endings I’ve seen in a long time. At the very least, I’ll be thinking about this one for a while.

Mermaid is not an easy watch, and it is currently not available through any regular streaming subscriptions. It’s presently available on demand through Apple TV+, Amazon Prime Video, and Fandango at Home.

By Robert Scucci
| Published 1 hour ago

This past weekend, I celebrated my birthday by going to see The Book of Mormon for the first time at The Tennessee Performing Arts Center (TPAC). My wife bought us tickets, which I have not looked up the price for because I don’t want to have a heart attack, and I finally checked off the last box I needed to earn the best kind of bragging rights: to the best of my knowledge, I’ve finally seen every single project that Trey Parker and Matt Stone have their names attached to.

I have my own La-Z-Boy BASEketball (also a gift from my wife), and I fall asleep to the sound of the South Park DVD mini-commentaries more than I’d ever care to admit publicly. I’ve watched all of their college skits, and even the ill-fated and short-lived Princess series that the duo animated with Macromedia Flash.

The one thing that was missing from my life was The Book of Mormon, and for a pretty stupid reason. When the musical premiered in 2011, I was fresh out of college (read: broke) and starting to do that whole “career” thing (read: trying to move out of my parents’ house). So what it comes down to is that I’m cheap, and even though I would take the occasional trip to NYC to play shows with my bands, I never jumped at the opportunity to see the damn thing until this past Sunday.

I’m overjoyed to report that, as somebody who will blindly consume everything Trey Parker and Matt Stone put out, I’m more than willing to forget about Seasons 27 and 28 of South Park because The Book of Mormon is their magnum opus, and it’s not even close. The version of the play I saw didn’t feature any of the original cast, but the production was such a well-oiled machine that I don’t think that matters much. The songs hit hard, the jokes lit up the room with laughter, and I’ve never had so much fun cackling at other people’s misfortune because it’s all framed so wholesomely.

All About Mormons

This is where I come clean and admit that I’ve never attended the theater outside of the occasional high school trip when I was in the symphonic band and got dragged to the opera or symphony while competing. I was relieved when my wife told me I didn’t need to wear a tie or anything like that, and even more stoked when I found out I could order a hot dog and a Diet Coke for a nominal fee. The theater itself was beyond efficient. The only comparison I have in recent memory is a typical movie theater trip, where the concession line could potentially take you away from the film you’re trying to see for a not insignificant amount of time.

TPAC has a firm cutoff for stragglers, which worried me, but to their credit, they belted out concessions like nobody’s business. After looking for parking during CMA Fest (we gave ourselves plenty of time, relax), we were getting down to the wire.

The play itself is exactly what you’d expect from Trey Parker and Matt Stone. If you’re a longtime fan of South Park, you already know exactly what they think about the Mormons after watching the Season 7 episode “All About Mormons” (dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb-dumb!). The thesis presented in that episode is a simple one: the religion itself is often criticized for claiming that Jesus Christ visited the Americas, and that its scripture came from golden plates that only Joseph Smith could see and translate. It doesn’t hold up to scrutiny, but the flip side is that Mormons are also considered some of the kindest and most wholesome people you’ll ever meet, so that’s the tradeoff.

The Book of Mormon pushes this sentiment to extremes when the young, naive, and idealistic Elder Price and Elder Cunningham are shipped off to their first two-year mission assignment. Elder Price is dead set on going to Orlando, Florida, but as luck would have it, he’s paired with Cunningham, an emotionally immature pathological liar who means well but can’t help getting himself into heaps of trouble when left unsupervised.

They quickly learn that they weren’t adequately trained to handle the very real, very deadly problems awaiting them in Uganda, where a warlord named General Butt-F*cking-Naked rules with an iron fist and everybody fears for their lives. It’s a perfect odd-couple, coming-of-age story that uses the Mormon religion as its vehicle to show the insurmountable odds stacked against these young missionaries, and how they handle them as two kids from Utah who have, up until this point, lived very sheltered lives.

It Holds Up, Even If I’ve Never Seen It Before

My biggest fear going into The Book of Mormon for the first time was whether the humor would still land. Generally speaking, most things that were considered irreverent or offensive just a few years ago seem tame by today’s standards, especially when they’re rooted in topical humor. It’s the reason I think South Park’s most recent run may have been funny in the moment but won’t hold up 10 years from now as anything worth revisiting.

Heck, in the South Park documentary, 6 Days to Air, Matt Stone commented on the show’s early seasons and compared them to Yo Gabba Gabba! when discussing what they’re allowed to get away with now. With that in mind, my enthusiasm was guarded, but the conflicts presented in The Book of Mormon are not only as old as time, they’re universal. There is still civil unrest in developing countries, and young men and women still do missionary work, meaning the entire premise holds up without feeling dated.

As for the humor itself, it’s shocking how many different people were into The Book of Mormon. Songs like “Hasa Diga Eebowai” hilariously, and profanely, spell out the kinds of perils the characters face in Uganda, but then you get naively wholesome songs like “Sal Tlay Ka Siti,” which is all about starting fresh in the elusive and mythical paradise known as Salt Lake City, Utah. There’s really something for everybody here so long as you don’t mind a gratuitous amount of curse words peppered through each song and dance number. 

Understudy Didn’t Break The Illusion

Between Act I and Act II, the role of Elder Cunningham was swapped out, and we were told over the loudspeakers that Jacob Aune would be replaced by Keith Gruber for the remainder of the musical. For what reason? I don’t know. Aune was magnetic, and his boisterous presence and enthusiasm for messing everything up for Elder Price (Ethan Davenport) never felt phoned in. I wondered if he fell ill or something because, if he was fighting off whatever caused the change, I couldn’t tell at all.

Honestly, the set changes were so efficient, even with the lights completely killed at times between musical numbers, that I wondered if Aune had been injured while everybody was shuffling around backstage and had to be swapped out quickly, though I’m only guessing here. His understudy, despite having brown hair instead of red and a noticeably different build, didn’t miss a beat. I’m no expert, but when one of the leads is swapped out right before his character’s big number, “Making Things Up Again,” and the show continues without a single hiccup, I’ll always be impressed.

It was also a treat to see two very talented individuals portray the same character, which allowed me to see what each performer brought to the table and how they contributed to the overall show. I’m calling this experience a treat because I’m notoriously cheap, and this will probably be the only time I venture out to see The Book of Mormon. I felt like I got a two-for-one deal!

The Book of Mormon was everything I thought it would be, and it may very well be Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s crowning achievement. Just like the most timeless South Park episodes, the musical doesn’t lean on topical humor, and its jokes will still land another 15 years from now. I watched elderly women laugh their asses off at jokes about maggots living in a poor Ugandan’s scrotum, and people my age cover their mouths when Elder Cunningham finally converts Nabulungi after essentially telling her that Mormonism is Star Wars.

I got lost twice looking for the bathroom line during intermission, and at one point I spit up my Diet Coke during “Hello! (Reprise)” toward the end of the musical. Don’t worry, I caught it in my shirt, and nobody was harmed.

If you’re like me and hate crowded places but love all things Trey Parker and Matt Stone, you owe it to yourself to check out The Book of Mormon, which is currently running shows all over the country as part of its 15th anniversary celebration.

For more than 20 years, air travelers have had to make sure they bring their liquid toiletries in 3 oz. bottles only, then chug their drinks before passing through airport security — a reaction to foiled terrorist plots that involved liquid explosives.

But those days are coming to an end, at least in Europe, where two large airports are installing new 3D Computed Tomography (CT) security scanners that can more accurately detect real threats.

Meanwhile, the U.S.’s Transportation Safety Administration (TSA) is “aggressively” adding the new scanners to airports, according to Scientific American, but any change to liquid rules does not appear imminent. Part of the reason for the delay is the patchwork implementation, with only about 255 of the country’s 432 airports adding them.

The TSA estimates that all its airports will be equipped with 3D scanners by 2043.

Brussels and London enter the 21st century

Back in Europe, Brussels Airport in Belgium is the latest facility to announce the new CT scanners; construction is set to begin next year, and the first implementation in 2028. The technology will replace 2D X-ray scanners and ultimately screen passengers, via full-body scanners, and carry-on luggage via conveyor belt scanners.

When in place, fliers will be able to transport an unlimited amount of liquids in their carry-ons as long as the individual containers do not exceed 2 liters (about 68 fluid ounces); the EU currently limits liquids to 1 liter in containers no larger than 100 milliliters (about 3.4 fluid ounces) for those passing through 2D scanners. The new rules will apply to more than drinks, as most airports consider toiletries like lotions, toothpaste, and hair gel to be liquids.

Laptops can stay in carry-ons

The CT scanners’ ability to accurately identify objects through various angles also means travelers can leave their laptops in their carry-on luggage as they pass through security. The scanners use sophisticated algorithms to create high-resolution 3D models of bags, allowing security personnel to rotate objects and more accurately identify them as harmless or worth a closer look.

Brussels Airport officials tout the new scanners as a way to streamline the security process.

“With this new technology, we will not only continue to ensure safety, but also make security screening even smoother and easier for our passengers. With the new scanners, we will also increase capacity so that we are prepared for any growth in passenger numbers in the coming years,” Arnaud Feist, CEO of Brussels Airport, said in a statement.

Brussels follows London’s Heathrow Airport, which installed the CT scanners earlier this year and is already allowing some fliers to drop the 100 milliliter liquid limit and keep their laptops in their bags.