In The Sandman’s first season, Lord Morpheus (Tom Sturridge) escaped from 106 years of captivity and immediately got to work rebuilding his realm and reestablishing his place in the grand cosmology of powerful, god-like entities. So what does Morpheus (AKA Dream) do in season 2? He tears it all back down. In the wildly fantastical and wide-ranging six-episode volume 1 of the second and final season, Dream discovers that the only way to atone for past mistakes is to make some devastating choices. Though the story sometimes feels like it’s rushing to the conclusion that’s coming all too soon, the way this show continues to combine the imagination of old fairy tales with stories about deeply broken characters provides a lot to savor.

In season 2, The Sandman develops into a twisted kind of family melodrama as Dream tries to settle some long-standing feuds. In season 1 we met three of the other Endless: the oddly cheery and down-to-earth Death (Kirby Howell-Baptiste), the perpetually miserable Despair (Donna Preston) and the mischievous, manipulative Desire (Mason Alexander Park). Season 2 begins with a family meeting called by the solemn Destiny (Adrian Lester), attended by the flighty youngest sibling Delirium (Esmé Creed-Miles). Absent, as always, is Destruction (Barry Sloane), who abandoned his realm and responsibilities eons ago. These characters are all very different in personality and purpose, and one of the big sources of tension in The Sandman – to its benefit – is the way these various embodiments of human nature struggle to coexist.

Volume 1 (which is made up of six of the 12 episodes of season 2) is itself roughly divided into two halves. The first operates – quite well – in maximalist mode, as Dream plays host to a room full of angry gods and other mythological beings. After his old nemesis Lucifer (Gwendoline Christie) simultaneously blesses and curses him, the show swings between dark comedy and grotesque horror as a series of strange and often hideous-looking creatures arrive in Dream’s realm to make their offers and show off The Sandman’s impressive special effects. There’s a poignant side to all this bedlam too, given that this whole underworld adventure begins with an attempt by Dream to rescue an ex lover, Nada (Deborah Oyelade), the first of many old acquaintances he has to make apologies to in these episodes.

This theme continues in the even more emotionally resonant second half of volume 1, as Dream reckons with the ways he has been unintentionally cruel to the people he believed he loves. When Delirium asks him to help her find Destruction, Dream soon realizes that the only way to find his brother may be reconciliation with another family member. This three-episode arc begins as a mystery, but it becomes more of a deep-dive into Dream’s complicated relationships as it progresses.

Amid these larger stories the show’s primary writer, Allan Heinberg, boldly weaves in fragments of some of the better-known short stories from the comics, usually inserting them as flashbacks. (Want to see how and why Dream inspired Shakespeare to create A Midsummer Night’s Dream? That’s here in season 2.) Collectively, the six episodes of volume 1 are about Dream’s most significant unfinished business, accumulated over thousands of years of him coexisting with humans and deities. That’s what gives volume 1 its drive: The women he wronged, the creatures he irritated, the family members he disappointed… all of these mortals and immortals now expect Dream to atone.

All the while, The Sandman is one of the more visually distinctive TV series on Netflix, with what must’ve been a large chunk of its budget going to creating strange-looking beasties and opulent kingdoms. This first half of season 2 includes a lot of scenes set in Dream’s own magnificent, mercurial castle, which its master can change to suit his moods and whims. Here, the screen is filled with spectacle when a host of supernatural beings – including Norse gods, hideous demons, and angels from the literal Heaven – descend on Dream’s home to make their case for becoming Hell’s new rulers. The images are properly overwhelming, immersing us in a place far removed from the mundane.

The frequent flashback sequences include scenes from the French Revolution and ancient Greece, giving a sense of how long the Endless have been meddling in human affairs. Even more than season 1, season 2’s first half is crammed with incidents, as Heinberg and company introduce all of the relevant characters and history that factor into The Sandman’s ending (which will show up on Netflix later this month). It’s effective, though: Fans of the comics may appreciate getting to see live-action versions of all the oddballs and ogres they remember from the page, while people who only know The Sandman from its first season are getting everything they need to understand the plot.

The way this story is structured is very intentional on the part of the TV series’s creators, who skip about half of creator, executive producer, and accused sexual assailant Neil Gaiman’s comics in order to streamline all of their events into a tighter story that’s focused almost entirely on a simple arc: Dream’s return, Dream’s rebuild, Dream’s regrets, and Dream’s amends. Nevertheless, it is unusual for a show only in its second season to spend so much time setting up a farewell, given that its first only ran for 11 episodes. Given that the graphic novels have plenty of material that the show could’ve adapted into more episodes, it seems like a lot was left on the table.

Sometimes the quickened pace and the abundance of action works well, and sometimes it doesn’t. A point of failure is when The Sandman unreasonably expects us to be deeply invested in some characters – like Nada, or Dream’s chauffeur Wanda (Indya Moore) – who we barely get much of a chance to know. That said, the richness of the world Gaiman created does mean that even the most minor characters – like Destruction’s wryly humorous dog, voiced by Steve Coogan – are uniquely entertaining. Nothing about this show feels bland or generic, so it’s at least making good use of the shortened time it has.

As was the case with season 1, season 2 gets a lot of juice from showing how the Endless aren’t that different from us, lifespans aside. These powerful beings also worry that the world is sliding into chaos and mayhem and feel the need to change with the times, however glacially. Amid all the dazzling fantasy trappings, The Sandman effectively hits its emotional moments, especially when it shows how someone like Dream – a shaper of realities – can feel powerless.

In one of the more touching moments in volume 1, a man who has been alive for over 12,000 years – since the time of the saber-toothed tiger – is killed in a dumb accident. When Death comes to collect him, she’s not that impressed by his longevity. She says he only lived a lifetime, “no more, no less.” The Sandman is at its best in scenes like these, which weave together the supernatural and the everyday, giving all these scattered stories a point. In this case, it’s the fact that whether you’re one of the Endless or an ordinary human mortal, you have to make the best of the time you have.

Given the current state of the world, it’s only natural that creatives of all stripes should start pondering hypothetical apocalypses. Much like the zombies that tend to inhabit these stories, some artifacts from the last boom a decade or so ago are still clambering along while others – including one currently in theaters – experienced a sudden reanimation. It’s tempting to slot 40 Acres along with the rest of those, but while it does feature a fungal plague and a rural setting, director R.T. Thorne’s debut pivots away from horror and instead into family drama with a tendency towards suspense. The familiar end-of-the-world framework provides much of the expected pleasures of a home-invasion story, but like all good horror or post-apocalyptic films, it’s also got a lot on its mind.

That much is clear from the title, a direct reference to the broken promise of “40 Acres and a Mule” as reparations for American slavery. It also refers to the location where the majority of this movie takes place: a Canadian farm run by the mixed family of Hailey (rising star Daniel Deadwyler) – the latest in a long line of Black farmers emigrating after the Civil War – and her partner Galen (Michael Greyeyes).

Their histories as former soldiers of various stripes emerges in the opening scene, as they and their children execute a defense run against raiders that would put Jake Sully’s family to shame. It’s a close-knit bunch out of necessity: in a future decimated by famines and wars, their ability to grow food has ensured their survival, but it’s also made Hailey an isolationist. Trading is only done at set drops where no one interacts, and her only real contact with the outside world is fellow farmer Augusta (Elizabeth Saunders). As portrayed by Deadwyler, Hailey’s a hard-ass who puts her kids – especially eldest son Emmanuel (Kataem O’Connor) – through rigorous training and lectures on everything from battle to farming. But crucially, she lets glimmers of light slip through, usually when on radio chats with Augusta but also with some of their younger children. It’s hard not to compare it a little to the recently released 28 Years Later in its depiction of parents caught between warmth and coldness. Both also feature genuine danger, here in the form of rumors that a cannibalistic gang has been ransacking farms on their small network.

Emmanuel is a growing teenager, so naturally when he spies a girl in a river he frequents the mind starts to wander, especially once she turns up on the farm. Rest assured, 40 Acres isn’t the kind of movie to spring some wild twist on us. Instead, Thorne and co. use it to probe at the whole disaster-preparation mindset. Surviving the worst is good and all, but what comes next? These conflicts aren’t necessarily new, and neither is the emerging theme of Emmanuel’s need to become his own person rather than the rigid symbol that’s expected of him, but they still resonate thanks to Deadwyler and O’Connor’s performances.

If nothing else, Thorne shows quite the knack at orchestrating tense scenes. An early highlight features a firefight in an abandoned military facility, with a particular event held just to the corner of the frame that provides an excellent jolt. Flashbacks come in like seamless transmissions from another life as a low-key indie drama, giving Hailey precisely the right amount of backstory and layering in the themes of racism and ancestral history.

So skilled is the direction that it almost doesn’t matter that the villains end up kind of weak by comparison. For as much setup as they’re given, by the time they hit the climax and dish out some pretty gnarly violence they can’t help but feel rather nondescript, with a leader who’s more functional than memorable. Even so, Thorne still manages to throw in a fantastic shootout in total darkness lit only by muzzle flashes, and a wonderful callback to a joke about the value of spices. He also gives Deadwyler the chance to throw out some very funny one-liners by the end, just enough to be self-aware without breaking the fourth wall. The ending sends us out on a high note, leaving us with a vision of family unity that suggests a brighter future for all involved. A little sappy to be sure, but it’s hard-won.

This review is based on the first two episodes of a 12-episode season that will stream on Crunchyroll starting July 6, 2025.

Appropriately timed for a zombie movie revival led by 28 Years Later, Nyaight of the Living Cat is a parody anime that is as adorable as it is fun to watch. Yes, this show is hilarious, and is clearly made by people who are fans of not just the zombie genre, but horror – with several references to classics like The Thing and Alien, but with cats.

That's the key to the premise: it is not about how long our protagonists Kunagi, Kaoru, Tsutsumi, Tanishi, and Gaku can simply avoid the creatures hunting them, but rather if they can resist the temptation to embrace doom and pet a cat again. That's because this particularly absurd apocalypse is brought upon by a plague transmitted by cats that turns everyone they come in contact with into more cats. As a zombie story, this is brilliantly inventive, as each character is heartbroken by the prospect of having to run away from the animal they love most. Likewise, Nyaight of the Living Cat uses knowledge of cats and cat lovers to create a new set of zombie rules for the show: using water to evade the infected animals, catnip to distract them, or even using an allergy as a way to detect nearby felines.

Like any good zombie story, Nyaight of the Living Cat has a good blend of thrills and emotions. There's a healthy amount of emotion that makes it easy to feel for them before they face their fate. There is also a mystery element to the story, with some mythology choices that make this apocalypse more than just a funny gimmick. Particularly, the character of Kunagi and his amnesia makes for the start of a fascinating plotline – now we just have to see if it pays off.

Granted, this is by no means an actual horror show, so don't expect terrifying jump scares as much as the surprise sight of a delightful kitten (and about a dozen others behind it). In a way, Nyaight of the Living Cat does work as a traditional zombie show, with the ambient sense of danger, the survivors grouping up before being killed off one by one, the person who does something stupid and dies, inept militaries, and just about every other cliche you could name. Still, seeing all of those played out but with cats instead of rotting corpses is an effective novelty that doesn't lose steam – at least, it hasn’t in the first two (out of a total of 12) episodes I’ve seen so far.

Legendary director Takashi Miike’s style can be felt throughout in how he employs campiness and cartoonish animation for the sake of accentuating the weirdness or the fantasy of the story. It works rather well in this show, with the close ups of the hordes of cats shot like they're both absolute monsters but also the greatest work of art, adding to the humor.

Unfortunately, the quality of the animation itself does leave something to be desired, with Apothecary Diaries studio OLM using bad computer animation for showing groups of cats that lessens the impact of their hordes, and the fact that the cats are sometimes hand-drawn when in smaller numbers makes the change between styles quite jarring and immersion-breaking.

Heads of State is a tonally lopsided buddy action comedy. With middling slapstick humor and poor attempts at witty banter, it struggles to provide genuine laughs. But thanks to some impressive action sequences – featuring a badass showing from Priyanka Chopra Jonas – and compelling performances from the rest of the cast, Heads of State still manages to be an entertaining popcorn movie.

The unfortunately timely premise centers on a rivalry between two world leaders and their reluctance to work together, even amid a global crisis. One side of it is Sam Clarke (Idris Elba) who, having worked his way through the British Parliament all the way up to becoming Prime Minister the old-fashioned way, is understandable in his strong disdain for his counterpart, movie star-turned-U.S. President Will Derringer (John Cena). And to a lesser extent, the same can be said of Will’s attitude towards Sam: he believes that Sam should take him seriously, regardless of the route he took to the White House.

This constant clash of opposing views is initially promising – the seasoned politician teaming up with a celebrity hire to fight terrorists is a solid foundation for a few laughs. At the very least, it should’ve led to some comical bickering between two charismatic actors. Unfortunately, Sam and Will’s personal conflict mostly amounts to dull bouts of one-upmanship and backhanded compliments.

What passes for witty banter between Sam and Will is yawn-inducing. None of the jabs at America’s fixation with pop culture or stereotypical displays of British elitism work as apparently intended. Most of the physical humor falls flat as well, which is disappointing considering Cena’s track record. Scenes depicting a person accidentally being set on fire, characters clumsily leaping from a train, or someone gassing themselves with a smoke grenade all strain to garner a smile, let alone induce laughter. This is a shame given how compelling Elba and Cena are in scenes where they aren’t trying to be funny. With Heads of State being the first time they’ve reunited since 2021’s The Suicide Squad, their on-screen chemistry reflects a strong work relationship.

Elba does a great job as Sam. His gruff demeanor and sharp line delivery echoes the sentiments of a cynical government official. When Air Force One is shot down, leaving Sam and Will stranded in a foreign country, it’s his abrasive yet well-meaning assertions that accurately convey the gravity of their situation. Cena’s charming depiction of Will, on the other hand, is much more hopeful. Will’s naïve understanding of politics can be grating at times, as reflected by Elba’s dismayed responses. That said, Will’s moral compass always points in the right direction; Cena’s enthusiastic ramblings about uniting the world via Will’s self-proclaimed “iconic” action films are as endearing as they are nonsensical.

Elba and Cena make a good pair, their “odd couple” vibe proving to be relatable despite the wild situations their characters keep finding themselves in. And thanks to director Ilya Naishuller (known for Hardcore Henry and Nobody), they also look good throwing punches and dodging bullets. The car chases, explosive shootouts, and chaotic fist fights are all entertaining.

Of course, given Naishuller’s pedigree for shooting great action scenes, this sort of thing is expected. What’s unexpected is Priyanka Chopra Jonas’ awesome portrayal of Noel Bisset, an MI6 agent sent to protect Sam and Will on their journey back to the US. Known for performing her own stunts, Jonas seems to effortlessly float between enemies as she violently beats them to a pulp. And that’s to say nothing of the times when she has a weapon; it’s exciting to see her take down several goons with their own guns, moments before tackling a villain hanging from a helicopter.

The rest of the cast have solid showings. Paddy Considine’s stoic portrayal of the hardened war criminal Viktor Gradov is convincing, and Carla Gugino and Jack Quaid are also engaging as Vice President Elizabeth Kirk and Agent Marty Comer, respectively – the latter of which providing some of Heads of State’s only effective comedic moments.