cinemateacally

This is a shortform series where I turn my fascination with an actor into a form of thought practice. Instead of developing a parasocial relationship or doomscrolling, I read books connected to the works they’ve done or books they’ve recommended. 

For this entry, we’re diving into The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky, a novel Luke Thompson narrated for audiobook. This is the first book he narrated that is written by Dostoevsky before White Knights. 

The Brothers Karamazov mainly follows the lives of three brothers Dmitri, Ivan, and Alyosha, and their complicated relationship with their father, Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov, a selfish and deeply immoral man who is far from an ideal patriarch.

We have Dmitri, the eldest from the first wife, who is passionate and impulsive, caught in a romantic rivalry with his own father over a woman. From the second wife, we have two. First is Ivan, who is intellectual and skeptical, constantly wrestling with reason, morality, and faith. And Alyosha, the youngest, is gentle and spiritual, the kind of person everyone seems to adore, someone people struggle to find fault in.

When Fyodor is murdered, Dmitri becomes the primary suspect, and from there, the novel unfolds into a layered exploration of how the family deals with guilt, truth, morality, faith, and justice. It blends family drama, crime, philosophy, and spiritual exploration in a way that pushes you to reflect on human nature and the complexities of morality itself.

This book is thick, and at first, I thought I wouldn’t make it to the end. But after around 40 days, switching between the physical book, my Kindle, and especially the audiobook. I finally finished this beast. The audiobook, in particular, really helped me through it. Luke’s narration gave the novel more life and made it easier for me to emotionally connect with and better understand the material.

Reading this book felt like an incredibly long episode of Law & Order mixed with intense philosophical and faith-driven conversations. It constantly asks: What is it to be good? What is evil? Are these things external forces, or do they exist within all of us? For me, as of late, the novel also explores how poor upbringing manifests differently in each of the brothers, and how people cope with the emotional and psychological consequences of the environments they were raised in. 

What amazed me most is that this book was written between 1878 and 1880, yet it still feels relevant. I also loved the little Shakespeare references sprinkled throughout the text, which, as a sidenote, once again proves how timeless Shakespeare is and how far-reaching his influence continues to be. (Case in point: there are even Shakespeare references in Off Campus. I just needed to mention that because I like the show and have been rewatching it for the nth time.)

This book left me with so many questions and reflections that it feels like the kind of novel I could revisit at different stages of my life and walk away with entirely different answers each time.

What I also learned after reading this book is that it’s better to read the introduction after finishing the book. It gave me an even deeper fascination with and appreciation for what I had just read, and that’s something I’m really happy about.

So, if you’re in the mood for deep philosophical thinking, morally complex characters, psychological depth, and explorations of faith and humanity, with a pinch of mystery and crime woven in, this might be for you.

I watched the hockey romantic comedy-drama series Off Campus and I have so much to say about it. But if I had to pack all my feelings into one sentence, it would probably be this: good entertaining television is back! And this time, it’s taking a healthier path.

This show was first recommended to me by an awesome friend, and I was completely floored. Every expectation I had, every reflex reaction I thought I’d have while watching it, ended up surprising me instead. And I’m genuinely glad I listened to her.

Off Campus is based on the book series by Elle Kennedy. Season 1 adapts The Deal, following the opposites-attract fake dating arrangement between music major Hannah Wells, who’s on the verge of losing her scholarship, and star hockey player Garrett Graham, who desperately needs to pass his class.

There are so many things I want to unpack about this show, while at the same time wanting to keep some of it to myself because, based on my algorithm alone, this series already has a lot of buzz and think pieces surrounding it. So I’ll try to make all my thoughts somewhat coherent.

A Show Catered to Women, Made by Women

And I feel like that is evident in every aspect of the show that is a show catered to women, made by women (please see below chart) from the look and feel, to the rhythm, to the little details. Even the mannerisms, the background acting, and the way scenes naturally flow into one another feel intentional. 

You can tell women were heavily involved in shaping this series because the characters are allowed to exist as people first. And beyond that, it feels like the creatives behind Off Campus grew up loving coming-of-age films and television - from like maybe Disney, CW, Nickelodeon. They took what worked from older teen dramas and romance forms of media, then somehow corrected the things that now feel dated or frustrating.

A Book Adaptation Done Right

After finishing the series, I immediately went and read the books just to prolong my obsession and understand how this adaptation came to be. And while I finished all four books, they’re not for me.Though I am excited to see Grace Ivers, the person I will fight for and protect, on screen. 

What really stood out to me, though, was how much better the show is. The writers took the strongest ideas from the books and transformed them into genuinely entertaining television that feels like magic. The kind of adaptation magic that feels weirdly missing from a lot of shows I’ve come across nowadays. 

A Good Mix of Soundtrack and Visual Storytelling

Undeniably, this show reminded me of how older CW series used music. Songs aren’t just thrown into scenes randomly, they actually enhance what the characters are feeling in that moment,  and Off Campus does that so well. 

Watching it made me think, “Oh, this kind of storytelling can still exist.”! There’s a rhythm to the entire series. Clever transitions, effective scene work, creative editing choices, everything flows so smoothly from beginning to end. It genuinely feels like trying to be effective and creative is becoming important again.

Also! This might actually be the first show where the use of social media and phones didn’t irritate me.

Off Campus uses technology the way people actually use technology. It never feels overly dramatized using social media. And for me, that added so much to the viewing experience.

A Fresh and Endearing Ensemble

One thing older television used to do really well was introduce new faces that audiences could slowly grow attached to. The show uses its ensemble perfectly. We get to know each character individually. Their quirks, flaws, insecurities, and growth. And because of that, the found family dynamic actually works. You understand why these people care about each other.

I honestly hope Amazon and the team behind the show protect this ensemble as much as possible moving forward because it’s rare to stumble upon a cast dynamic this naturally charming. Especially now, when trends move so quickly and studios constantly try to milk everything for immediate attention instead of letting stories and characters grow organically over time. And just the general fandom climate where boundaries don't seem to be a thing, I just hope the cast is protected to not ruin such an amazing dynamic we have so far. Also, if it’s not much… I want to see more of Birdie. He’s one of my favorites (along with Beau- may they change your fate, my king and close personal friend - Maxwell)

A Good Work of Healthy Fiction

One could honestly argue that Off Campus is fantasy at this point because everyone in this world is… decent, level-headed, emotionally aware, and most of all, capable of communication. 

From the leads, to the friends, to the hockey team, the bunnies, the parents, professors, and even the coach… there’s basic decency in this world. The characters aren’t perfect and the show never pretends they are. There are still flaws, conflicts, and misunderstandings. But the difference is that people face problems head-on and in such a calm manner at that. 

The world of Off Campus feels safe, emotionally safe. Like a place where people are allowed to grow while still being supported by those around them. There are still trials and tribulations, of course, but the people who make up this world ultimately make it feel like a good place to be in.

From start to finish, Off Campus ended up being such a healthy surprise for me. In a streaming climate obsessed with gimmicks, shock value, trends, and clicks, this show feels like proof that stories rooted in basic decency can still work.

And when you combine that with awesome creators who clearly grew up loving television and films before them, creators who understand the source material but also know how to improve, modernize, and soften its rougher edges, and then a genuinely charming ensemble cast, that honestly feels like catching lightning in a bottle.

So if you’re in the mood for a fun, comforting, safe-space type of show that feels like a mix of Disney Channel energy, CW-style ensemble storytelling, with a bit of spice, but everyone has gone to therapy and learned emotional communication, and basically every One Direction, Taylor Swift, and Ariana Grande song brought to life through characters and plotlines… then this might be for you.

Thanks again to my awesome friend who recommended this show to me, you know who you are. I blame you, by the way, like I told you days ago, because from now on, and possibly until eternity, I’ll forever be wondering why I don’t have a Garrett Graham in my life.

Since I still have one strike pending on YouTube, you can check out the short-form version of this review on my TikTok and Instagram instead.

I finally watched the British period drama series The Other Bennet Sister and it’s like rediscovering why I love period dramas in the first place.

Before anything else, some key points on this review:

I have never properly read or watched Pride and Prejudice yet. I did once listen to the audiobook, but mostly to help me fall asleep. So yeah, I only got past the first paragraph at most. 

I also haven’t read The Other Bennet Sister book yet.

And yes, I checked this out predominantly because of Dónal Finn.

Set in Regency-era England, the series follows the Bennet sisters through Mary Bennet’s point of view as they navigate marriage, society, and family expectations. Mary is considered the sister with no “marriageable” qualities, and honestly, the way her mother and even some of her sisters treat her does not help at all. So instead, she buries herself in books and knowledge because it’s one of the few places where she feels seen and understood.

After a change in circumstances, Mary gets the opportunity to stay in London, where she slowly begins discovering happiness, confidence, and maybe even love.

Mean Characters

I’m not sure if it’s just me, but one of the first things that really stood out while watching the first episode was just how mean everyone is toward Mary. And I know, I’ve watched darker and heavier things before but something about the way they dismiss her or throw snide remarks at her genuinely made my blood boil.

From a storytelling perspective, I understand why it’s there. It immediately makes the audience root for Mary and feel protective of her. But still, I found the alienation hard to watch at times. It almost felt excessive. I’m curious how this compares to the source material because if the book hurts even more than this, then… good luck to me, honestly.

On Simplicity and Happiness

The series presents Mary as plain, awkward, and lacking the qualities society expects from women during that time to the point where even her own mother constantly reminds her of it. So Mary retreats into reading and learning because it gives her space to breathe and simply exist as herself.

What I really loved is how the show captures the beauty of being a late bloomer.

Mary’s journey isn’t some grand transformation where everything suddenly changes overnight. It’s gradual. It’s messy. It’s painful at times. She’s someone who slowly learns that life can become fuller once you allow yourself to actually live it the way you want to.

A lot of people still struggle with happiness today. Sometimes the answer sounds simple on paper, but life rarely works through instant gratification. There are hurdles. There are setbacks. And for Mary, there’s the endless cruelty coming from people who are unfortunately her own family.

But what made the story emotional for me was seeing that there are still people willing to help you back up again. People who show you that there’s more to the world than the version of yourself others forced you to believe in. Mary gets to experience that through the Gardiners, and watching her slowly realize her worth and eventually stand up for herself genuinely made me cry. I’m not even gonna lie.

On Love

Please note: I am fully aware of my bias toward Dónal Finn. But rest assured, for this section, I’ll be looking at Tom Hayward purely as a character.

As someone whose media diet for years mostly revolved around Korean dramas (especially circa 2016–2021) and Japanese dramas with Bridgerton being my main source of period drama, if we’re being honest, I forgot how much I missed this kind of feeling - where I hope and cheer for the lead character, yearn along with her, and hope for the best in who she picks. 

There were scenes and mannerisms in this show that genuinely made me stop because I physically felt something in my chest. Not just with Tom Hayward, but even with Mr. Ryder too. And listen, Mr. Ryder may be a bit of a carefree lad, but charm? He absolutely has it.

What makes Mary’s story so endearing is that it becomes proof that someone will see you for who you truly are. That if you remain yourself, the right people will eventually recognize your beauty and Mary somehow manages to attract not one, but two gentlemen. Which, honestly, I found both charming and amusing.

Especially because the rivalry between them can get so cheeky and childish at times.

And I’m not gonna lie, as someone who has such a deep affinity for unrequited love, longing, and emotional suffering in fiction, the moment Mary found out Tom Hayward already had an agreement with another woman before the end credits rolled? Oh dear, I physically felt pain in my chest.

I literally had to continue the show three days later. And I loved that feeling, it felt exquisite.

Final Thoughts

All things considered, I really loved how The Other Bennet Sister made me feel things I’ve been longing to feel again for quite some time.

Yes, some characters are almost comically mean-spirited at times, but the series still carries this warmth and charm that made me want to stay in its world.

The writing is good. I do think I probably would’ve appreciated certain references more if I had deeper knowledge of Pride and Prejudice, and I swear!!! I’ll finally work on that soon. But even without it, the show still feels like it naturally belongs within that universe.

And visually, the show looks beautiful. I especially love that they use real locations because it makes everything feel more tangible and lived-in, like you’re stepping inside an actual novel brought to life.

So if you’re in the mood for a good period drama about finding happiness despite other people’s cruelty, especially from family. Then with romance, longing, emotional growth, then The Other Bennet Sister might be for you.

Since I still have one strike pending on YouTube, you can check out the short-form version of this review on my TikTok and Instagram instead.

I finally watched the 1997 Japanese Drama series Beach Boys, and I really enjoyed it. 

As someone who has a deep affinity for Kimura Takuya’’s 90s dramas, I figured it might be nice to branch out a little and try different shows, different actors, and just add a bit more variety to my usual japanese retro binge.

In Beach Boys, we follow Hiromi and Kaito, two men who somehow find themselves staying at a small beachside guesthouse run by an aging surfer and his granddaughter. Hiromi is carefree and impulsive, freshly kicked out by his girlfriend and heading toward the sea with nowhere else to go. Kaito, on the other hand, is the complete opposite, he is an elite young businessman working at a major trading company, who was recently thrown a curveball. As summer passes, the guesthouse becomes a temporary home not just for them, but for the many people who come and go, each carrying their own reasons for wanting to stay by the beach a little longer.

Summer

I’ve been deep in the Japanese drama scene since high school, so I’ve watched my fair share of beachside dramas like Summer Nude and Manatsu no Cinderella that goes around stories about romance, self-discovery, and people finding themselves by the ocean. And honestly, watching Beach Boys made me realize this drama probably helped shape the blueprint for a lot of those series that came after it.

There’s something refreshingly simple about it. Beach Boys never tries too hard to be profound or overly dramatic. At its core, it’s really just about two lost men unexpectedly finding comfort and belonging in a small bed-and-breakfast by the sea. But that simplicity is exactly what makes it work.

The comedy lands naturally, the banter feels effortless, and even during its more melodramatic moments, the show never becomes emotionally exhausting. It keeps things light without losing sincerity. And much like summer itself, the series feels fleeting. Before you know it, it’s over — ending on a bittersweet note that somehow feels perfectly fitting.

Taking Breaks

One of the things that really resonated with me throughout the series was its reminder about the importance of taking breaks.

Kaito, despite being this accomplished elite working a high-pressure corporate job, slowly realizes how at ease he feels living by the beach. And I think that’s what Beach Boys understands so well: taking a break isn’t necessarily about running away from your problems or abandoning your responsibilities. Sometimes it’s simply about allowing yourself to pause. To step away from the constant pressure and noise long enough to breathe again.

Of course, having the privilege to do that is another conversation entirely, and the drama subtly acknowledges that too. But you can see this theme reflected across almost every character in the show. Whether it’s Kaito reevaluating his life, Hiromi dealing with the halt of his Olympic dreams, or Masaru facing the possible closure of the guesthouse. Everyone, in some way, arrives at the beach carrying exhaustion.

Found Family

At its heart, I think Beach Boys is really a story about people who have lost their way and slowly find comfort in one another.

What I loved most is how naturally the relationships develop. The characters lean on each other without the show forcing emotional moments for the sake of drama. The guesthouse gradually becomes this small found family, where everyone shares each other’s burdens, even if only for a summer.

The writing also does a great job weaving together not just the stories of the main cast, but also the lives of the guests and townspeople they meet along the way. It makes the world feel warm and lived-in, like the kind of place you almost wish existed outside the drama.

Ultimately, Beach Boys feels like the perfect summer drama. The sunlight, the ocean, lazy afternoons, laughter shared with friends. It captures that nostalgic feeling of a summer you know won’t last forever. It’s lighthearted and comforting, but still grounded enough to leave an emotional impact when it needs to.

If you’re in the mood for an oldie-but-goodie drama with heartfelt storytelling, lovable characters, and a really touching found family dynamic, this might be for you. Since I still have one strike pending on YouTube, you can check out the short-form version of this review on my TikTok and Instagram instead.

I watched the TV series Young Sherlock, and honestly, I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did. I genuinely thought I wouldn’t even make it past the first episode, but somewhere along the way, I ended up having a lot of fun with it.

Young Sherlock is a British mystery series based on the Young Sherlock Holmes books by Andy Lane. Long before the sharp deductions and A Study in Scarlet, the stoy takes place in 1871 at Oxford University, where a 19-year-old Sherlock Holmes is trying to rebuild his life after getting out of jail. Through his older brother Mycroft, Sherlock ends up working as a servant boy at the university, and it’s there that he meets James Moriarty, a fellow student at Oxford.

From there, things quickly spiral into mystery-filled chaos. Ancient scrolls are stolen, professors begin turning up dead one by one, and Sherlock and Moriarty end up teaming up to clear Sherlock’s names while figuring out what exactly is happening. 

Donnal Finn as Moriarty

I’m not even going to pretend otherwise, because heck, I am simply a girl surviving real-life responsibilities by getting emotionally attached to fictional characters played brilliantly by actors. So yes, Dónal Finn is absolutely the reason I finished this series.

But casting aside my bias for a second, Moriarty himself is such a fascinating character here. I’ve always loved the idea of a fun, brilliant, slightly dangerous nemesis, and this version of Moriarty really works for me. Watching the beginnings of his relationship with Sherlock was especially interesting because you can already see the foundation being built for who they eventually become to each other.

Their friendship feels genuine, but underneath it, you can already sense the future rivalry brewing. Moriarty slowly develops into the cheeky, sharp, emotionally layered version of the character that will one day become Sherlock’s greatest enemy.

And honestly, Dónal Finn has such a strong screen presence that every scene he’s in becomes instantly more engaging. This may be a biased take, but he genuinely feels like the glue holding the show together at times.

Unlike Sherlock, Moriarty has to fight for his place at Oxford. He’s there on scholarship, and then we see it gone. The lack of privilege is what shapes him. At the same time, he’s fascinated by Sherlock’s mind, so he sticks around, helps him, challenges him, and even understands Sherlock in ways other people can’t.

One thing I really enjoyed was seeing Sherlock’s deduction skills still in their early stages. He’s clever, but rough around the edges, and Moriarty actually helps sharpen him in some ways. Watching the two of them bounce off each other ended up being one of my favorite parts of the series.

And honestly, the slow setup toward Moriarty’s eventual transformation into the cunning, ruthless Professor Moriarty we all know is probably the thing I’m most excited to see if the show gets more seasons.

Packed with Fun

I do think that if I were maybe 5 to 10 years younger, I probably would’ve loved this even more than I already did. But even now, it’s still a genuinely fun watch, and I can easily see younger audiences having an absolute blast with it.

That said, the first episode was honestly a bit difficult for me to get through. I wasn’t fully sold on the lead actor’s performance at first, and paired with the wig, the exaggerated cheekiness, and some uneven acting choices, I genuinely didn’t know if the show was going to work for me. I even paused it for a while because I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue.

But after a particularly stressful day, I found myself wanting something light and entertaining, so I picked it back up, this time without watching it too critically. I just let myself experience the show for what it was. And surprisingly, that completely changed things for me.

One episode turned into another. The mysteries got more entertaining, the stakes became higher, and suddenly I was already watching the finale. The fun somehow gets even more fun as the series goes on.

I think there’s something freeing about simply allowing yourself to enjoy a story despite its flaws. Even though there were acting choices that personally didn’t work for me, the characters, twists, chase scenes, funny antics, and overall chemistry between the cast eventually outweighed those concerns. And as the episodes progressed, the series itself genuinely started improving. Watching the team dynamic slowly come together ended up being part of the fun.

It Actually Looks Good

One thing I really appreciated about Young Sherlock is that the series actually looks good. There’s color, proper lighting, real locations, and sets that don’t feel distractingly artificial. Weirdly enough, that’s something I’ve been missing in a lot of series lately.

The show has this lively visual energy to it that makes the world feel immersive instead of overly polished or lifeless. While writing this, I also found out that Guy Ritchie served as an executive producer and directed the first two episodes, which honestly makes a lot of sense in hindsight.

I was also pleasantly surprised to learn that Tricia Brock directed the final two episodes. I’ve loved her work ever since Bridgerton, and I still miss her involvement there, so seeing her name attached to this series was genuinely exciting for me.

At its core, Young Sherlock is a fun family drama full of mischief and adventure, wrapped inside a mystery-adventure series. Beyond the stolen scrolls, murders, and conspiracies, what really makes the show compelling is watching how Sherlock Holmes slowly becomes the emotionally distant detective we already know he’ll turn into someday.

The Holmes family dynamic, I realized, might be the most interesting mystery of all. The dysfunction inside that family somewhat shapes everything, including Moriarty’s eventual descent into villainy. What makes that setup so interesting is that his fall doesn’t feel rooted in abstract evil, but in the emotional wreckage surrounding Sherlock and the Holmes family itself.

If you’re looking for something fun, easy to binge, another Holmes adaptation to dive into, or if you simply want more of Dónal Finn on your screen, then this series might be for you. 

Since I still have one strike pending on YouTube, you can check out the short-form version of this review on my TikTok and Instagram instead.

“To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”

To complete my Shakespeare tragedy trio starter pack, I finally watched Hamlet as performed at the Almeida Theatre and later adapted into a BBC TV Movie which aired in 2018. Directed by Robert Icke, it stars Andrew Scott, Jessica Brown Findlay, and Luke Thompson, among others.

Hamlet returns home grieving the death of his father, only to discover that his mother, Gertrude, has quickly remarried Claudius, his uncle, and now the new King. Then, through the security monitors, the ghost of Hamlet’s father appears, revealing to Hamlet that Claudius murdered him. From there, Hamlet spirals into paranoia, grief, and obsessive overthinking as he wrestles with revenge.

Surveillance and Political Tragedy The modern staging somehow makes this tragedy feel even more immediate and digestible, reflecting the anxieties of our own time. This adaptation frames Denmark through a distinctly contemporary lens: a world, like today, shaped by surveillance, media scrutiny, and political tension. We have CCTV footage, news broadcasts, and live feeds constantly close in on both the audience and Hamlet’s psyche. As part of the royal family, Hamlet exists under relentless observation, where every action must be measured and composed. 

Grief and TimeWithin such a short span of time, Hamlet returns home to a dead father, a remarried mother, and the horrifying reality that she married his own uncle. There is no room for him to process any of it. And throughout the play, Hamlet constantly fiddles with his watch, almost clinging to it. The production repeatedly draws attention to this habit, tying it beautifully to Hamlet’s line: “The time is out of joint.” Everything around him feels disordered and disorienting. We get to see Hamlet being forced to continue moving while emotionally collapsing in real time. Where grief never settles and only builds pressure, like a kettle with no release for its steam.

Polonius Out of this nearly three-hour play, I surprisingly ended up liking Polonius the most. He comes across as a caring father and loyal employee, even if age causes him to lose track of things at times. In such a grim and emotionally heavy story, he often becomes an unexpected source of comfort and comic relief, and that warmth makes his eventual fate all the more tragic for me. 

A side note on Luke Thompson 

I swear, I genuinely never expected to see him in this play because I hadn’t checked the rest of the cast beforehand. So, in a way, having him appear as Laertes became such a delightful surprise. He still carries some of the voice and mannerisms of Benedict, but at the same time, it’s completely different. As Laertes, he feels like an entirely different person, a new canvas of a persona altogether. He plays him as a brother fiercely protective of his sister and family, someone who, much like Hamlet, is pulled back into chaos caused by human error. 

I really liked him in this role. And now that I’ve seen him as Edgar/Poor Tom in King Lear and here as Laertes in Hamlet, I now have to think harder and of a way about which performance of his I love more.

Ultimately, Hamlet is a deeply human play about grief, vulnerability, morality, and the paralysis that can come from overthinking action. And this production understands that completely. And with Robert Icke’s interpretation, paired with Andrew Scott’s fragile and grief-stricken performance, creates an intense and emotionally layered portrait of a man torn between mourning, responsibility, and revenge.

So if you’re in the mood for a reframed take on this infamous tragedy, one with intimate intensity, accessible dialogue, and a phenomenal ensemble cast… this version might be for you.

Method Reading is a series where I turn my fascination with an actor into a form of thought practice. Because we don’t encourage the development of parasocial relationships here. We are choosing curiosity over mindless consumption in this house. Only peaceful growth, reflection, and the expansion of knowledge are welcome here.

For this entry, we’re diving into The Corrections, a novel recommended by Luke Thompson as the book he’d love to read again for the very first time, a detail he shared on The Inklings Podcast.

In the book, we follow the Lambert family, a Midwestern household at a breaking point. At its center is Enid, the mother, who is determined to gather her family for one last Christmas in their home in St. Jude, Missouri, as her husband Alfred’s health steadily declines.

The novel shifts perspectives among the family members, particularly their children: Gary, Chip, and Denise. Tracing their individual struggles, failures, and attempts at self-correction.

This book is dense, packed with personal crises, depression, consumerism, sexual identity, and moral compromise, to name a few. I won’t lie: a chapter in, I found myself questioning why I started it at all. I was genuinely aghast at what I was reading, a character so deeply unpleasant that it almost pushed me away. And yet, he remains central to the narrative.

I had to step back and reassess how I approached the book. I checked reviews, looked into interviews with the author, and tried to understand its intent. Then it clicked: that it’s supposed to feel this way. What also helped was viewing the novel through the lens of dark humor and satire. It also makes sense knowing now that Franzen was aiming to tap into a more male readership.

Family

Family, for what it means, what it demands, and how we show up for one another is a universal thing for all of us. The characters in this book are as real and flawed as they come, which makes them uncomfortably familiar. There are secrets, unspoken resentments, and yet, beneath it all, a persistent desire to still be there for each other in whatever way possible.

You’ll likely see parts of your own family or people you know reflected in the Lamberts. And despite the dysfunction and discomfort, I found myself pushing through. Not because it was easy, but because the characters began to feel real. In some ways, they felt known. And I wanted things to get better for them.

Success and Self-Perception

Throughout the novel, there’s an ongoing tension between what could have been and what should have been. The characters grapple with ideas of success. What it looks like, what it feels like, and whether it’s even real. There’s a constant performance of having it all together, even when everything is unraveling beneath the surface.

Much of what they chase feels immediate and hollow, leading to destructive coping mechanisms, like substance use, moral compromise, emotional emptiness, and ultimately, denial of their own suffering.

Corrections

The idea of “corrections”, whether as an action or a concept, appears repeatedly throughout the novel. It speaks to the human desire to fix what has already happened, to rewrite mistakes, or to escape the consequences of them. But more often than not, the characters find themselves trapped in the very systems: emotional, social, even institutional that they hoped to correct.This, more than anything, is what held me emotionally.

The Corrections is not fast-paced or lighthearted. There are no clear heroes, no easy resolutions, and I underestimated that when I picked it up. But I kept reading through. I stayed for the family dysfunction, the sharp social satire, and the deeply character-driven narrative.

Most of all, I stayed because I hoped things would get better for everyone. And somewhere along the way, I learned to empathize.

“Then why don’t you read? If you continue like this, you will only see the surface of the world. If you don’t want to stay shallow, read some of the wonderful books here.”

I was ready to quit this film within the first three minutes. But something in me insisted on staying, and I’m glad I did.

The Days at Morisaki Bookstore is a 2010 Japanese film based on the novel by Satoshi Yagisawa. I haven’t read the book yet, but for now I felt like this would do.

We follow Takako, who, after a heartbreak that drains her spark, receives an unexpected call from her uncle, Satoru. He owns a small bookstore in Jimbocho: Morisaki Bookstore, and asks her to stay there temporarily to look after the shop while he’s away.

Confused but with little else stopping her, she accepts.

From there, we watch Takako slowly rediscover herself. Through books, through the rhythm of watching the shop, through the charm of Jimbocho, and through the people she meets along the way.

Like a Film School Project

It took me a while to warm up to this film. I even had to double-check if I was watching the right one. At first, it felt like an old TV special, like it’s almost too simple.

But as it unfolds, it starts to feel more like an experimental film school project, and I mean that in a good way.

The bookstore setting does a lot of heavy lifting. It creates this cozy, almost tactile atmosphere, like you can practically smell the pages. 

A Love Letter to Books and the Community Around Them

“Jimbocho is just like a book. On the surface, it seems calm, but when you open it, you’ll find a chaotic world inside. Then, like finishing a book, it returns to tranquility.”

Around the 20-minute mark, when Takako arrives in Jimbocho, was when the film truly locked me in.

We’re given glimpses of the district, not just Morisaki Bookstore but the surrounding shops as well. Each shop feels distinct, with its own personality. There’s even a community event that made me realize how alive this place is.

Jimbocho has been on my list of places to visit in Tokyo, and this film only solidified that. There’s something special about a place that revolves around books, not just as objects, but as a shared culture.

Books are worlds within pages. And here, within Jimbocho, is a world within a town.

Life Goes On

“Instead of relying on valuable things to gain value, one should create value on their own. That’s what makes a person strong.”

At its core, this film is about moving forward.

It reminds us that everyone is figuring things out as they go. What matters is whether we choose to stay stuck or find a way to rise again.

There’s quite a lot of wisdom throughout, not just from the books mentioned, but from the characters themselves.

In the end, it’s simple: life goes on. And it’s up to us to stand back up and face it.

I’ve always loved castella, long before I ever tasted it. 

I remember seeing it in so many of the anime shows I watched growing up, and then there was that unforgettable episode in Yamada Taro Monogatari that treated castella as something almost regal. From then on, I couldn’t stop wondering what it actually tasted like.

Fast forward to 2017: I traveled to South Korea and finally had my first bite of castella. It was a fleeting moment, but it left a lasting impression. I’ve craved for it ever since.

Later on, I was lucky enough to visit Japan a few handful of times, where I got to try different kinds of castella, from different places, including various flavors. I loved and savored every bite. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to keep any records, and I lost all my photos when my old phone unfortunately gave out, so those memories exist only in fragments.

So this year, I’m starting something new: a Castella Leaderboard. A way to track what I try, what I love, and how each one compares. It’s my way of finally documenting my experience with this simple yet unforgettable treat that I find myself longing for, again and again, and again.

So, in an effort to take this up a notch, I created a Google Sheet to document every castella I try, and eventually build a leaderboard of the ones that truly sweep me off my feet.

For my very first entry: Paris Baguette’s Premium Honey Castella.This is actually the first castella I ever tasted, way back when I spotted it at Incheon Airport on our way out of South Korea.

Now that Paris Baguette is finally in my country, I had to check if they carried castella—and they do.

I’ll try to keep this entry simple (and hopefully the last time I ramble this much), so here are the stats:

Brand: Paris Baguette – Korean Premium Honey Castella

Accessibility: 4 What I consider:

Easy to buy again

Convenient location / minimal effort

Fair price for the quality

Flavor: 3 What I consider:

Subtle sweetness (not overpowering)

Light honey note

Pleasant eggy richness

No weird aftertaste

Texture: 3 What I consider:

Moist, not dry

Fine, tight crumb (almost silky)

Bouncy / springy when pressed

Slight chew, not airy like chiffon

Value: 3 What I consider:

Feels freshly baked

Not dry from storage

Still soft and fragrant

Packaging quality

Craving: 3 What I consider:

Would I buy it again and again?

If I had no other choice, would I still enjoy it?

Final Score: 3

Given that this was my first-ever castella, it holds a bit of sentimental value. It made a great first impression, and the fact that I can now easily grab one from a nearby mall adds to its appeal.

This production left me wishing every “stage-to-screen” adaptation were handled this way.

So I recently watched the 2021 National Theatre production of Romeo & Juliet - and it is captivating, angsty, and I really enjoyed it.

The film opens with the ensemble gathering for rehearsals, setting the stage before we’re pulled into the world they build inside an empty theatre that slowly transforms into Verona.

Eventually, our star-crossed lovers meet at the Capulet party and form an immediate connection. Against the backdrop of their families’ long-standing conflict, they cling to each other as a form of escape: from control, from expectation, from a life already mapped out for them.

A young couple who long to break free from a world where pride is chosen over peace. And that youthful urgency drives everything that follows: the hasty marriage, the impulsive violence, the inevitable exile. 

Of course, we know how it ends: two young lovers driven to their deaths, a tragedy that might have been avoided if the adults around them had only listened.

While Romeo & Juliet is a tragedy at its core, the real “love story” here is how the production utilizes the medium of theatre itself. Created during the pandemic, when live performance came to a halt, it feels like a response to that sudden stillness. It’s a seamless blend of film and stage: stripped down, but used to great effect.

The entire ensemble holds the space from beginning to end with performances that are grounded and raw. 

If you’re familiar with the material, you’ll notice that parts have been condensed, with very little to almost no comic relief. But at just 1 hour and 35 minutes, it’s an immersive entry point into the infamous and beloved story rather than a traditional staging.

So if you’re in the mood for: 1. A fresh take on a familiar tragedy 2. A thoughtful blend of theatre and film 3. Performances from an ensemble that consistently strike the right notes.

…this might be for you. 

Method Reading is a series where I turn my fascination with an actor into a form of thought practice. Because we don’t encourage the development of parasocial relationships here. We are choosing curiosity over mindless consumption in this house. Only peaceful growth, reflection, and the expansion of knowledge are welcome here.

For this entry, we’re diving into White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevsky, with the audiobook narrated by Luke Thompson. Which I discovered on a random day via Spotify, as I was looking for more interviews and podcasts featuring Luke. Only to find out he’s been narrating audiobooks for quite some time.

So back to the White Nights… We follow a lonely, socially isolated young man who lives almost entirely inside his own head.

One night, by a canal, he notices a young woman in tears. He approaches her, and they quickly form a friendship through their nightly conversations. Over the next few evenings, we sit in on their discussions about their hopes, dreams, and everything in between.

I always had an affinity for stories about unrequited love, and White Nights has been an annual read for me since around 2022. As I was writing my notes, I realized I’ve been returning to this book every year.I love it dearly because, in many ways, it mirrors the way my own thoughts tend to spiral and ramble.

And I’ve experienced this book in almost every format, from the physical copy, via my Kindle, and now as an audiobook. With my bias from this guy aside, hearing it read aloud gave me a new perspective and made me appreciate it even more.

I once told a good friend that this book has a way of finding me at different points in my life through love, heartbreak, and working my way through acceptance of both life and love as they are. 

King Lear, 2018 | Overcoming my fear of Shakespeare

Given that I’m currently in a phase with an actor who came from Shakespearean acting roots (Luke Thompson!!!). I've found myself diving into Shakespeare’s plays, something I only recently discovered I could watch from home. For this entry, I’ll be sharing my thoughts on the 2018 National Theatre production of King Lear, which I viewed through National Theatre at Home.

National Theatre Live: King Lear (2018) is led by Ian McKellen, alongside Danny Webb and Luke Thompson, among others.

TIMESTAMPS („• ֊ •„)੭ 0:00 - Intro, rating, why I watched it, and a note of thanks to Luke Thompson 

01:42 - What is King Lear about… 

02:16 - A quick play recap 

03:39 - Thoughts and reflections on King Lear 

Revisiting the first video essay I ever made born from a past hyperfixation: The Third Finger Offered to a King (2023) 

The full video is on Youtube: cinemateacally

In it, I talked about the drama, my thoughts on it, and how much I adored Yamada Ryosuke. That admiration spiraled into multiple trips to Japan, watching two films there, and collecting a lot of merch. I was completely charmed.

Coming back to this video now, at a time when I want to create more but often feel stuck or doubtful, reminds me why I started in the first place. This was never meant to be a road to content creation of sorts. Like, even now, it’s still the hobby I’m most fond of. It’s simply a space to express myself and share the things I love, the stories that I fixate on, the ones that, in their own way, kept me going. And maybe, along the way, find people who feel the same or want to have a good conversation about them.

So hi, I’m Laline, and this is cinemateacally. A space where I share my thoughts, obsessions, and little adventures.

Just a quick disclaimer: I’m a normal person with a day job and real-life responsibilities. I just really love writing and talking about the things that make me happy. I write my own scripts, edit my videos, and do my own voiceovers. I’m also a tea enthusiast who can’t function without a warm cup nearby.

Teapins – Vietnam Delights: Ginger Lemongrass