“Women presume we can have children. There is a biological and social expectation. Nothing can make that absence worse. But we have the possibility of making it better.” New to Netflix, Joy follows the British scientists who invented in-vitro fertilisation (IVF) – Bob Edwards (James Norton), Jean Purdy (Thomasin McKenzie) and Patrick Steptoe (Bill Nighy) – and the opposition they faced from the medical and religious communities.
Feminists have long fought to prove that a woman’s value is distinct from motherhood. There are many ways to live a meaningful life that are wholly disconnected from whether you can, or even wish to, have children. And yet, almost always, an infertility diagnosis brings pain. As such, for many, Joy will be a bittersweet watch.
One such person is our reviewer, Pragya Agarwal, who wrote a book about her own journey with fertility, including many rounds of IVF. She found watching the film to be a “hugely emotional experience”, with a message that feels even more potent in the current climate, as reproductive choices and bodily autonomy are under threat around the world.
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Christmas movies make me a bit mushy. There’s something in the purity of them: the way the humble festive cliches – a treasured mince pie recipe, a scarf knitted by a loved one – somehow cut to the core of our humanity. Our love for family, dependence on traditions, and longing to return to our kinder, childhood view of the world.
It means I usually start with silly Hallmark films (Netflix’s Hot Frosty has been a particularly trashy treat this year) before graduating on to the big hitters – White Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, and the biggest sob fest of them all, The Muppet Christmas Carol. But I might make an exception this year, and start with Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.
This film follows four generations of the Italian-American Balsano family as they descend on the home of the elderly matriarch, Antonia (Mary Reistetter). Eating, drinking and general merriment ensues. It’s kind of like the Christmas episode of The Bear, but without the suffocating claustrophobia.
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Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point is a tender family drama about the power of home
Bad sisters and Bad Sisters
Dune is one of the most revered book series in science fiction. Author Frank Herbert’s world building married dizzying scale and granular detail, and the two recent blockbuster adaptations starring Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya have reignited their popularity with a new generation.
Capitalising on this surge of interest is the new series Dune: Prophecy, set 10,148 years before the birth of Chalamet’s Paul Atreides. It follows two nuns as they combat forces that threaten the future of humankind. If, like our reviewer, you enjoy your sci-fi with a generous side of scheming, politicking and horror, it’s well worth a weekend binge. And thankfully, this time there’s no accompanying popcorn bucket of nightmares.
Read more:
Dune: Prophecy – the prequel series takes liberties with the Herberts’ vision, but not for the worse
The first season of Bad Sisters pulled off a near-astonishing feat: a show about the horrors of coercive control that managed to be both funny and blindingly truthful. No doubt much of this was down to the show’s incredible cast, with the five sisters of the title played by Sharon Horgan, Eva Birthistle, Sarah Greene, Anne-Marie Duff and Eve Hewson (who also recently starred in Netflix’s The Perfect Couple). Thankfully, the cast’s alchemy is intact for season two, which probes deeper into the dark side of sisterhood.
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Bad Sisters season two is a darker, more serious look at sisterhood
Songs of a Lost World
There’s a viral clip of The Cure front-man Robert Smith from 2019 that I watch every time it pops up on my social media feed. The band is being interviewed on the red carpet to celebrate their induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Shimmying up to them, the excitable American interviewer squeals: “Are you as excited as I am?!” Deadpan, scratching his cheek, Smith replies simply: “Um, by the sound of it, no.”
Clad in all black with his signature bat’s nest hair, he cuts quite the figure next to the interviewer, who is head-to-toe in gold sequins. To me, the moment is quintessentially goth. It’s worth revisiting to celebrate the release of The Cure’s new album, Songs of a Lost World, a cavernously beautiful return to their mournful best, which just went to number one in the US. Our reviewer, gothic expert Neil Cocks, loved the way it pulls between brightness and darkness.
Read more:
How The Cure went back to their gothic roots for their new number one album
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