How to Make Films and Influence People

Peter and Andrew dig into You Can See Everything, the documentary directed by Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim, which follows Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes right before she heads to prison. The hosts wonder why Holmes and her partner Billy Evans ever let Fielder into their home in the first place, especially given his reputation for weaponizing deadpan silences and brutally blunt questions. Rather than feeling like a typical true-crime profile, the opening stretch plays out like a tense mental boxing match between Holmes and Fielder, where both refuse to break character while parsing through technical half-truths, legal semantics, and what it actually means to lie.

The conversation then turns to the film's wild mid-movie pivot: bringing in Amanda Seyfried, who famously played Holmes in The Dropout. Seyfried comes in as a breath of fresh air and an audience surrogate, offering genuine emotion and even clashing with Billy on camera, before the film veers into full-blown reenactments of scenes the crew couldn't shoot. Peter and Andrew praise how unpredictable and thrilling the nearly three-hour film feels, noting that by the time Fielder and Seyfried are running lines by a fireplace at the end, the line between reality, rehearsal, and pure performance has completely dissolved.

Peter and Andrew tackle John Carpenter’s 1978 horror landmark Halloween, exploring how its ruthless simplicity, masked boogeyman, and indie ingenuity created the modern slasher genre. They analyze the film’s masterful suspense mechanics—from the groundbreaking opening sequence shot entirely from a child killer's first-person POV to the eerie wide shots of the Shape lurking behind suburban hedges—and examine why Michael Myers is far scarier as an unexplained, faceless embodiment of pure evil rather than a psychoanalyzed villain. The hosts debate whether the movie stands as a genuine work of cinematic art or a clumsy, low-budget indie that merely laid the structural groundwork for films that came after, break down the subversion of safe 1970s suburban sprawl where parents and authority figures are completely absent, and praise Jamie Lee Curtis’s resourceful final girl for fighting back.

In their blasphemous remake segment, the guys brainstorm how to retool the slasher classic: pitching a family-friendly neighborhood adventure where kids dodge distracted babysitters who invent an urban legend boogeyman to keep control (or a gentle community mystery about tracking down a wandering elderly neighbor with dementia); blowing the scale up into an existential big-budget thriller set inside a peaceful paradise afterlife where souls are terrorized by an unstoppable killer in heaven, or stripping it down to a micro-budget indie shot entirely from the killer's point-of-view; and expanding the story into television through either a 10-episode 1963 prequel chronicling Michael’s family life and childhood leading up to his sister’s murder or an Arkham Asylum-style procedural following the other mental patients who escaped Smith's Grove on that stormy night.

Plus, Peter and Andrew look back over their entire catalog to crown the "Champion of Champions" across 50 episodes of film discussions. They announce the ultimate aggregated winners for Best Performance (Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight edging out Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood), Most Thought-Provoking Film (a tie between Do the Right Thing and Fight Club over Parasite), Best Scene (The Godfather baptism montage beating No Country for Old Men and Casablanca), Most Fun Watch (Pulp Fiction over The Empire Strikes Back), Hardest Film to Recommend (Andrei Tarkovsky’s Mirror), and Easiest Film to Recommend (The Empire Strikes Back).

Topics covered: Babysitting market economics, white flight and suburban dread, why serial killers without backstories are scarier than psychoanalyzed ones, comparing Michael Myers to the shark in Jaws, yell-at-the-screen horror tropes like dropping the kitchen knife, and whether Silence of the Lambs is the true high-water mark for psychological terror.

Peter and Andrew celebrate their 50th regular episode by tackling the 1980 galactic masterwork The Empire Strikes Back, exploring how it avoids the sophomore slump to stand as the undisputed pinnacle of the Star Wars saga. They analyze the film’s bold narrative architecture—how it builds upon the lived-in world-building of A New Hope without getting bogged down in exposition, balances three distinct genre storylines across its middle act, and enriches its villains by showcasing Imperial middle-management politics and Darth Vader's manipulative limitations. The hosts debate whether the film functions as a self-contained work of art or strictly as a brilliant second act, examine the psychological weight of Vader's parental ambitions versus Luke's defiance, and break down the cultural impact of Billy Dee Williams stepping into the cape of Lando Calrissian.

In their blasphemous remake segment, the guys brainstorm how to retool the space opera classic: pitching a brutal, Rated-R Quentin Tarantino–style adaptation that ditches blaster cauterization for graphic severed-limb violence, visceral monster horror, and darker Imperial cruelty; stripping the scope down to a low-budget survival hunt confined entirely to the snowy wastes of Hoth or a claustrophobic chamber piece aboard the Millennium Falcon centered on the friction, repairs, and romantic tension between Han, Leia, Chewie, and C-3PO; and expanding the narrative into television through either a lighthearted 20-to-30-minute sitcom following a suburban Stormtrooper dad or an alternate-timeline 10-part prestige drama where Luke accepts Darth Vader’s proposition on Cloud City to overthrow the Emperor and rule the galaxy together.

Plus, Peter and Andrew hand out their coveted milestone awards for their last 10 film discussions (Singin' in the Rain, City of God, Casablanca, No Country for Old Men, Blade Runner, Fletch, Cléo from 5 to 7, Zero Dark Thirty, M, and The Empire Strikes Back). They face off over Best Performance (Chevy Chase vs. Corinne Marchand), Best Scene (the coin toss vs. the runway goodbye), Most Thought-Provoking Film, and the Easiest and Hardest titles to recommend to modern viewers.

Topics covered: Sacrificing a hand to become a Jedi, why Hoth remains the greatest snow battle in cinema history, Darth Vader's absolute lack of interpersonal HR skills, Lando Calrissian as the ultimate reluctant businessman hero, and why children's movies can still be towering works of cinema.

Peter and Andrew continue their in-theater review series by diving into Aaron Sorkin’s 2026 political tech-thriller The Social Reckoning. In their spoiler-free review, the hosts compare the film to 2010’s The Social Network, assessing how the shift from a David Fincher helmed, multi-layered character study of Mark Zuckerberg into an All the President's Men or Spotlight-style investigative procedural alters the narrative engine. They discuss the rhythmic charm of Sorkin’s trademark dialogue, debate whether the repetitive hurdles dilute dramatic tension, and question if the film's revelations will age better for future audiences than they play today.

Peter and Andrew explore Fritz Lang’s 1931 early-sound landmark M, examining how its chilling procedural drama revolutionized suspense and psychological horror. They break down Lang’s pioneering formal techniques—from ominous auditory motifs like Hans Beckert whistling “In the Hall of the Mountain King” to expressive cross-cutting and the eerie use of complete silence. The hosts unpack the film’s moral and historical complexities, analyzing the parallel manhunts mounted by the Berlin police and the organized criminal underworld (Ringvereine), the tense kangaroo court tribunal that puts societal vengeance on trial, and the unsettling prescience of its themes amidst the political unrest of Weimar Germany.

In their signature remake segment, the guys pitch three blasphemous reimagining scenarios: translating the high-stakes manhunt into a lighthearted school mystery where a student contraband candy- or gum-selling ring investigates a campus thief to clear their names and avoid faculty crackdowns, handing the original 1931 Berlin script to David Fincher with a $100 million budget to craft a visceral, big-budget psychological period thriller, stripping the production down to a contained, zero-budget legal drama set entirely inside the underworld kangaroo court where an appointed advocate shares a complicated personal history with the accused killer, and expanding the narrative into a gritty, multi-episode HBO-style period procedural exploring the dual police and mob investigations against the backdrop of 1930s Berlin, complete with a disgraced private detective hired by the criminal syndicates.

Plus, the hosts catch up on what they've been watching, discussing the innovative low-budget filmmaking of Christopher Nolan’s debut feature Following (1998) and the singular, comedic world-building of Jared Hess’s Napoleon Dynamite (2004).

Topics covered: The legendary studio pushback over the film's original title (Murderers Among Us), why early talkies were far darker and more mature than modern audiences assume, Peter Lorre’s humanization of Hans Beckert’s psychology, and the creative necessity of taking big, weird swings in independent cinema.

Peter and Andrew return to their theatrical review series to break down Alejandro González Iñárritu’s ambitious, high-budget satire Digger. The hosts dissect Tom Cruise’s eccentric, high-energy lead performance as a ruthless, aging oil tycoon whose Arctic drilling triggers a global environmental crisis. In their spoiler-free review, they evaluate whether the film's abrasive tone, heavy-handed messaging, and over-the-top caricatures succeed as Coen-style farce, while questioning why an 80-year-old billionaire was cast with a heavily prosthetized Cruise instead of an age-appropriate veteran actor.

Topics covered: Tom Cruise’s real-life friendliness on the Paramount lot, the narrative pitfalls of movies that over-explain their own comedy, swinging for triples versus home runs in blockbuster cinema, and whether cutting the outer-frame narrative could have saved the story.

Peter and Andrew dig into Kathryn Bigelow’s controversial, Oscar-winning 2012 drama Zero Dark Thirty, tracking its gritty decade-long chronicle of the manhunt for Osama bin Laden. They analyze the movie's uncompromising structural choices—opening on real 9/11 emergency audio before immediately dropping into brutal black-site interrogation scenes, following the singular obsession of Jessica Chastain’s Maya, and making the bold narrative leap to an objective, procedural final act where the lead character is entirely absent from the Abbottabad raid. The hosts debate the film's moral gray zones, address whether it truly endorses enhanced interrogation or presents a bleak historical reality, and question how a film made so specifically for and of its post-9/11 cultural moment will age for future generations.

In their signature remake segment, the hosts tackle the blasphemous challenge of redesigning a story defined by bleak geopolitical trauma: pitting an official, sanitized press-briefing edit against a Zootopia-style animal habitat investigation for a family-friendly version, stripping the narrative down to a zero-budget office drama told via computer monitors or an intense single-room cat-and-mouse interrogation play, and either fleshing out Maya’s 10-year desk-level intelligence hunt into a prestige episodic procedural or taking a wild detour into a multi-cam family sitcom where the lead character's mother-in-law happens to be the operative who tracked down bin Laden.

Plus, the guys answer a listener question from Jerry about buyer's remorse at the cinema, walking out of horror movies like Longlegs, and the "barbell" strategy of choosing theater-worthy spectacles versus quiet dramas that demand zero at-home distractions. In "What We've Been Watching," Andrew goes in completely blind to the new action-comedy-horror Resident Evil, and Peter reviews Nate Bargatze’s throwback dad comedy The Breadwinner.

Topics covered: Surviving movie theaters with newborn babies in Babybjörns, casting Chris Pratt and Joel Edgerton before their blockbuster eras, the bizarre wartime crossover of using Drowning Pool’s "Bodies" for both gym workouts and interrogation sessions, real-life military intelligence psychological bluffing, and why the ending of Zero Dark Thirty works.

In this episode Peter and Andrew dive into French New Wave master Agnès Varda’s 1962 landmark Cléo from 5 to 7. Together, they break down the film’s daring real-time structure, its shift from symbolic color tarot cards to stark black-and-white realism, and how Cléo’s two-hour wait for medical biopsy results transforms from narcissistic dread into human connection.

Before dissecting Varda’s classic, the hosts share behind-the-scenes updates on their own screenwriting process—including navigating festival runs on zero-dollar budgets, the value of shelving finished drafts for fresh eyes, and reverse-engineering a new micro-budget feature script designed to super-serve a hyper-specific niche. Then, in "What We've Been Watching," Andrew gives high praise to all six seasons of the vampire mockumentary series What We Do in the Shadows, while Peter dissects Clint Eastwood’s 1997 misfire Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, examining why an all-star cast and great book don't always translate into compelling cinema.

Finally, the show wraps with their signature "Blasphemous Remake" segment, reimagining Cléo from 5 to 7 as a high-stakes elementary school recess drama, a Cold War espionage thriller a la Day of the Jackal, and a Parisian anthology television series.

Topics covered: High school wrestling coaching philosophies applied to terminal diagnoses, why commercial indie film often mirrors Hollywood rather than reinventing the medium, and navigating the eerie tension of Paris street crowds staring directly down the lens.

Peter and Andrew dive into Michael Ritchie’s 1985 comedy classic Fletch, exploring how it balances a razor-sharp, well-crafted mystery with Chevy Chase’s signature deadpan wit and disguise-heavy physical comedy. They examine why mystery-comedies so rarely succeed, how the film keeps its jokes organic to the investigative narrative rather than detouring into sketches, Chase’s peak-era performance, and the inexplicable plot choice to feature Provo, Utah, as an international airline hub.

In their remake segment, the hosts imagine how to retool the detective comedy. Could it work as a Disney Channel Original Movie about a high school newspaper reporter uncovering an ACT cheating ring, or an undercover teen interloper visiting out-of-town cousins for homecoming? Who could possibly step into the lead role today—Danny McBride, Mikey Day, or Joel McHale? Plus, pitches for an episodic "disguise-of-the-week" sitcom versus a gritty six-part prestige prequel exploring the breakdown of Fletch's marriage.

Kicking off the episode, Peter and Andrew tackle a corporate brand pitch for Zippo Lighters, debating Trey Parker and Matt Stone WWII stop-motion satire versus a contemplative, existential animated drama in the vein of John Cassavetes and 1970s Rankin/Bass animation.

Topics covered: The lost art of star-tailored comedy writing, voiceover done right, and why comedy deserves serious cinematic study.

Peter and Andrew kick off a new review format covering current theatrical releases, starting with Paul Greengrass’s medieval historical drama The Uprising. The hosts dig into the film's depiction of the 1381 English Peasants' Revolt against King Richard II, exploring Greengrass’s visceral direction, dynamic battlefield choreography, and Andrew Garfield’s turn as an unnamed rebel leader. In their spoiler-free review, they discuss the film’s lack of worldbuilding and character backstory, and evaluate who this muddy, action-heavy historical drama is really for.

Crossing into the spoiler zone, they discuss how the film actually worked, once you've seen the ending.

Topics covered: The narrative risks of skipping the setup and launching straight into a rebellion, why kinetic action directing can't always compensate for thin screenwriting, modern political subtext in historical epics, and why some films leave you admiring the craft while completely forgetting the characters.

Peter and Andrew step into the rain-soaked, neon-lit dystopia of 2019 Los Angeles to break down Ridley Scott’s 1982 sci-fi landmark Blade Runner. They examine how the film prioritizes groundbreaking visual atmosphere, sound design, and philosophical inquiry over standard detective noir plotting, contrasting its lived-in, decaying future against the sterile aesthetics of traditional science fiction. The hosts dive into the core themes of identity and existence—exploring Rachael's implanted memories versus Roy Batty’s lived experiences, the cultural assumptions underlying the Voight-Kampff test, and why Rutger Hauer’s tragic antagonist serves as the true emotional anchor of the story. They also weigh in on the superiority of the voiceover-free Final Cut and debate whether the lingering ambiguity surrounding Rick Deckard's replicant status actually alters the impact of the film.

In their signature remake segment, the hosts tackle three reimagining scenarios: pitching a Studio Ghibli–inspired animated family feature (or an episodic kids' adventure tracking friendly, lost robots), stripping the production down to a zero-budget chamber-piece focused strictly on psychological Voight-Kampff interrogations in the style of Ex Machina and Primer, and expanding the universe into television with either an ongoing procedural tracking hundreds of rogue replicants or a prestige limited series exploring Roy Batty’s off-world backstory leading straight into the original opening.

The hosts also break down screenwriting mechanics—debating whether rigid three-act structures like Blake Snyder's Save the Cat! beat sheet are indispensable storytelling tools or creative traps. Plus, they share their latest watches, covering the dialogue-free prehistoric survival film Quest for Fire (1981) and the high-stakes financial warfare of HBO’s Industry.

Topics covered: The durability of three-act screenplay structures, creating gritty retro-futurism without sterile sci-fi tropes, empathy and memory as the metrics of humanity, the narrative power of ambiguous endings, and why some cinematic masterpieces work better as atmospheric meditations than traditional thrillers.

Peter and Andrew head to West Texas to break down Joel and Ethan Coen’s 2007 modern classic No Country for Old Men, exploring how the film upends traditional thriller conventions through randomness, subverted genre expectations, and the lingering dread of Tommy Lee Jones’s bookending monologues. They analyze the illusion of control shared by Llewellyn Moss, Anton Chigurh, and Carson Wells, Javier Bardem’s terrifying yet intimate portrayal of Chigurh, and why leaving critical story threads unresolved cements the film's philosophical weight.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle their customary blasphemous challenges: How would you pitch a family-friendly version—a high school football rivalry about rule-breaking on the field, or a youth treasure-hunt adventure following multiple converging perspectives? What would a low-budget bottle movie look like, whether centering on Chigurh’s isolated rooms or following the mundane marital fallout of the spared gas station attendant? And could the story survive as an anthology TV series tracking the border or following Chigurh's deadly contracts across seasons?

Plus, the hosts launch a new pitch challenge adapting TV series like New Girl and Perfect Strangers into feature films, and share their latest watches, including Ted Lasso Season 4, The Village, and The Witch.

Topics covered: The illusion of control and fatalism in crime cinema, subverting audience expectations, humanizing a ruthless killer through mundane vulnerability, pitching classic sitcoms as auteur horror, and why some masterpieces are deeply rewarding precisely because they refuse to give you closure.

Peter and Andrew dive into Michael Curtiz’s 1942 classic Casablanca, unpacking how its sharp, endlessly quotable dialogue and moody, film noir–style shadows elevated an American studio production into an enduring masterpiece of cinema. They discuss the film’s unique production timing during World War II, Rick Blaine’s journey from cynical neutrality to active self-sacrifice for the greater good, and Claude Rains’ morally flexible Captain Renault serving as the essential bridge between the Allied resistance and German occupation.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle a set of blasphemous challenges: How do you adapt Casablanca as a family-friendly film? Could it work as a kid-led resistance story or an animated animal allegory in the vein of Zootopia? What would a no-budget indie look like—a dialogue-heavy single-room bottle drama set entirely in Rick’s Café, an immigration story set in the Spanish exclave of Ceuta, or a morally ambiguous drama set during the dissolution of Yugoslavia? Would it translate better as a Mexican border town TV series or an episodic, Mandalorian-style anthology following Rick's weekly encounters with refugees and scoundrels?

The hosts also share their current viewing habits—including Jake Johnson’s pickleball comedy The Dink, the Apple TV show Lucky, and the Anthony Bourdain summer-break biopic Tony—while referencing Challengers, The Mighty Ducks, The Great Dictator, To Be or Not to Be, Star Wars (and Han Solo's cantina roots), Children of Men, The Dark Knight, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Fugitive, and Poker Face along the way.

Topics covered: The commercial and patriotic confluence of Operation Torch and the Casablanca Conference on the film's original release, why the reluctant-hero archetype hits harder when the choice comes in Act Three instead of Act One, racial dynamics and the nuanced role of Sam, and why the messy compromises of World War II gave early cinema a rare moral clarity.

Peter and Andrew dive into Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund’s 2002 Brazilian masterpiece City of God, examining how its kinetic editing, split screens, handheld camera work, and vibrant energy bring the poverty-stricken favelas of Rio de Janeiro to life. They analyze the film's unconventional, vignette-driven story structure, discuss Rocket’s evolving role as an embedded narrator, and debate how the cyclical, unrelenting violence involving young children challenges traditional Hollywood storytelling and empathy.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle a wild set of creative constraints: How do you adapt an unflinchingly violent crime saga into a family-friendly film? Could it work as an animated feature about a runaway chicken dodging danger, or a low-stakes turf war over contraband candy at a summer camp? What would a no-budget version look like told entirely in a darkroom through developing photographs, or an ultra-high-budget epic transported to the slums of ancient Rome? Would the sprawling favela dynamics be best served as an expansive, character-rich prestige TV series?

The hosts also catch up on what they've been watching, discussing the razor-sharp comedic plotting of A Fish Called Wanda (1988) and the baseball romance of Fever Pitch (2005), while also referencing Goodfellas, The Godfather, The Shawshank Redemption, Do the Right Thing, Come and See, The Secret Agent, and nature documentaries like Planet Earth.

Topics covered: Subverting traditional "Save the Cat" narrative formulas, balancing bleak thematic reality with visual style and vitality, the ethics and power of showing systemic cycles without moralizing, and why setting a city as the true main character creates an unforgettable cinematic world.

Peter and Andrew explore Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly’s 1952 musical classic Singin' in the Rain, unpacking how its high-energy choreography, vibrant Technicolor spectacle, and witty satire captured Hollywood’s turbulent transition from silent films to talkies. They discuss the film’s themes of genuine optimism, the artifice of celebrity image, and the evolution of entertainment technology, and debate whether its lighthearted jukebox musical structure and static stage-style camerawork still hold up as a towering work of cinema. In their remake scenarios, they tackle a lively challenge: How do you adapt an upbeat classic for families? Could it work as a 19th-century period piece about the arrival of city gaslighting, or a darker Babylon-style tragedy? What would a no-budget indie version look like, focusing on a celebrity hiring someone to secretly live out their social media life? Would it be better as an ongoing Glee-style musical series expanding on the supporting characters, or a meta backstage drama about the making of the film itself in the 1950s?

The hosts also answer a listener question about their most controversial overrated and underrated movie hot takes, share their current viewing habits—including Nirvanna The Band The Show The Movie, the latest Spider-Man, and experiences on a film festival selection committee—while referencing The Wizard of Oz, Wicked, It’s a Wonderful Life, Solo: A Star Wars Story, Braveheart, Babylon, Hail, Caesar!, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sound of Music, and The Offer in their discussion.

Topics covered: The mechanics of turning pre-existing catalog songs into a cohesive movie, why unbridled 1950s post-war optimism is difficult to recreate today, the visual trade-offs between static full-body dance shots and modern kinetic editing, and why pure cinematic fun doesn't always need deep thematic complexity to endure.

Peter and Andrew unpack Martin Scorsese's 1990 classic Goodfellas, exploring how its highly stylized editing and unique dual-narrator perspective redefined the gangster genre. They discuss the film’s themes of the illusion of mafia loyalty, the allure of the criminal lifestyle, and the reality of middle management incompetence, and debate whether its intense, stylized violence serves to intentionally desensitize the viewer.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle a ruthless challenge: How do you adapt an ultra-violent mob story for families? Could it work as a summer camp movie about a kid slinging contraband candy? What would a no-budget version set entirely inside Paulie's house or a single chaotic car ride look like? Would it be better as an ongoing TV series expanding on the unseen Lufthansa heist?

The hosts also celebrate their 40th episode by handing out awards for the past ten movies they've covered, while referencing The Godfather, The Sopranos, Donnie Brasco, The Office, Wet Hot American Summer, A Woman Under the Influence, Children of Men, Mulholland Drive, The Truman Show, Night of the Living Dead, Ran, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Cinema Paradiso, and Donnie Darko in their discussion.

Topics covered: The cinematic discipline of skipping a highly-anticipated heist scene, the unglamorous reality of cleaning up crime scenes in your own driveway, comparing ruthless mobsters to incompetent regional managers, and why some movies are better experienced as a fast-paced rollercoaster ride.

Peter and Andrew unpack John Cassavetes's 1974 independent character study A Woman Under the Influence , exploring how its uncomfortably intimate filmmaking style and incredibly nuanced performances left a lasting mark on independent cinema. They discuss the film’s themes of mental illness versus idiosyncrasy, the dark underbelly of 1970s domestic life, and the messy reality of marriage, and debate whether its challenging, unresolved narrative still resonates in a modern world.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle an uncomfortable challenge: How do you adapt a harrowing domestic drama for families? Could it work as a Mary Poppins -style fantasy where a mother's erratic behavior translates into magical adventures for her kids? What would a no-budget "birthday party from hell" version told entirely from the perspective of an awkward visiting parent look like? Would it be better as a time-hopping TV series exploring the couple's early romance and the future lives of their children in the vein of This Is Us ?

The hosts also launch a new segment pitching auteur directors for bizarre brand movies (featuring Edgar Wright and John Milius takes on Crocs), and share their current viewing habits, including Shoresy and The Karate Kid (1984), while referencing Barbie, Battleship, Jumanji, Mean Girls, Red Dawn, Letterkenny, Cobra Kai, Black Swan, The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, Krisha, Blue Valentine, Saturday Night Live, Barry, and Entourage in their discussion.

Topics covered: The difference between a low-budget Hollywood film and true independent cinema, the dark cultural undertones of the 1970s, the ethics of the Cobra Kai dojo, the value of long, uncomfortable scenes, and why some masterpieces are deeply rewarding but incredibly unpleasant to watch.

Peter and Andrew unpack George Romero's 1968 independent horror classic Night of the Living Dead , exploring how its single-location tension and foundational zombie tropes created an entire cinematic genre. They discuss the film’s themes of interpersonal power dynamics, the futility of survival, and the dark irony of the rescue posse, and debate whether its straightforward, relentless narrative still holds up in a modern world saturated with undead copycats.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle a terrifying challenge: How do you adapt a story about flesh-eating ghouls for families? Could it work as a comedic movie about teenagers barricading their house to study for an AP test? What would a high-budget ancient Roman version set during the conquest of Gaul look like? Would it be better as an anthology TV series where the main cast dies every episode, or an X-Files-style detective show investigating petty grudges settled during the outbreak?

The hosts also kick off a new segment pitching auteur directors for Disney live-action remakes (featuring Robert Eggers and Christopher McQuarrie takes on Moana), and share their current viewing habits, including Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey and The Invite , while referencing Mission: Impossible, The Witch, Nosferatu, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Carnage, Closer, Die Hard, Jaws, Shaun of the Dead, The Purge, and 28 Days Later in their discussion.

Topics covered: The logistical and financial realities of 1960s micro-budget filmmaking, the effectiveness of stripping away character backstories to heighten situational tension, the mechanics of a satisfying twist ending, and why the original blueprint of a genre is always worth revisiting.

Peter and Andrew unpack Alfonso Cuarón's 2006 dystopian masterpiece Children of Men , exploring how its gritty, ground-level visual style and masterful "show, don't tell" world-building elevate it beyond a standard action thriller. They discuss the film’s themes of societal collapse, the moral complexities of revolution, and the balance between random chance and miraculous faith, and debate whether its deeply cynical yet hopeful view of humanity still resonates in a modern world.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle an apocalyptic challenge: How do you adapt a bleak story about the end of human reproduction for families? Could it work as a fun adventure where a motley crew of animals helps the last pregnant sea turtle reach a sanctuary, or a quest to save the last growing plant? What would a no-budget version set entirely inside an abandoned Michigan strip mall look like? Would it be better as a gritty 10-episode sci-fi retelling of the biblical Nativity story?

The hosts also share their current viewing habits, including The Invite , while referencing The Godfather trilogy, Star Wars: A New Hope, The Lord of the Rings, 22 Jump Street, Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2, Pusher, Der Vorname, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Carnage, Closer, The Bourne Identity, and Seinfeld in their discussion.

Topics covered: The rarity of truly great movie sequels, the effectiveness of a reluctant "common man" hero over an action superstar, the intricate background details of a collapsing society, and why some cinematic masterpieces are easily misjudged on a first watch because of their superficial accessibility.

Peter and Andrew unpack Richard Kelly's 2001 genre-bending cult classic Donnie Darko , exploring how its bizarre time-traveling rabbit and its ambiguous blend of sci-fi, horror, and dark comedy left a lasting mark on early 2000s cinema. They discuss the film’s themes of the isolating teenage experience, the blurred lines of mental illness, and the impact of personal sacrifice, and debate whether its cynical view of corrupt adults still resonates in a modern world.

In their remake scenarios, they tackle an apocalyptic challenge: How do you adapt a dark story about an imaginary doomsday rabbit for families? Could it work as a positive adventure where a happy bunny helps a teen fix his neighbors' hidden problems? What would a no-budget, computer screen-only "Screen Life" version look like? Would it be better as an ongoing TV series expanding the 28-day timeline to explore the bizarre lives of the town's side characters?

The hosts also share their current viewing habits, including HyperNormalisation and Jackass Best and Last , while referencing Zelig , What's Up, Tiger Lily? , Forrest Gump , It's a Wonderful Life , Mulholland Drive , Fight Club , 2001: A Space Odyssey , Ferris Bueller's Day Off , The Shining , and Missing in their discussion.

Topics covered: The creative use of archival footage in documentaries, the Buster Keaton-level visual comedy of Jackass stunts, the sinister camera framing used to introduce Donnie, and why some movies are destined to be subjective personal favorites rather than objectively the greatest films of all time.