Dear 16-year-old Niamh, (Look at those brows...) I’m writing to you from 2026, where a lot of people are saying this year is the new 2016, whatever that means. Today, we're 26-years-old and I can't stop thinking about you. The life you're living and how you're feeling in this very moment. I bet right now you’re blaring Pillowtalk from your iPhone 6, drawing on eyebrows as thick as can be, with a pair of culottes on, ready to show the world your gorgeous shins. I thought today would be a good time to write to you, to see how you’re doing and let you know how we’re doing ten years later. Right now, in January 2016, you’re probably working a shift in Staples that you hate, but with a boy you fancy. You feel a bit hopeless, that he’ll never notice how much you like him, and even worse, you’re afraid of what could happen if you take the plunge and let him know how you feel. Niamh. Good God, let him know. Taking a risk is scary, especially when it comes to boys. ...
⭐⭐⭐⭐ Who knew ping pong could be so stressful? Yes, Timothée Chalamet’s latest outing sees him as a 1950s table tennis superstar scrambling to scrape together enough money to reach the coveted Table Tennis World Championships. (A24) There was a lot of noise circling Marty Supreme as I entered the doors of my screening on a cold Wednesday night in January. And once I left those doors, I understood why. Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme is a high-octane, borderline thriller following the highs and lows of Chalamet’s Marty Mouser as he runs around a grimy 1950s New York, chasing every penny he can get his hands on to scrape together enough money to make his way to the Table Tennis World Championships and fulfil his “purpose” of becoming the first American World Champion. Marty Supreme had me squirming in my seat throughout its 2 hour 29 minute runtime, and Chalamet, as always, shines. He perfectly toes the line between charisma and arrogance, keeping you invested in a protagonist who i...