Story-The film is set in a quiet, close-knit village, Thimmarajupalli, where life follows a predictable rhythm, shaped by routine, relationships and unspoken hierarchies. The arrival of a television set marks a subtle but significant shift, slowly influencing how people see the world beyond their immediate surroundings. What begins as curiosity and shared entertainment starts to affect personal dynamics, aspirations and even conflicts within the community.Amid these changes, the film follows a group of villagers whose lives intersect through everyday interactions, simmering tensions and evolving relationships. As the narrative progresses, seemingly ordinary incidents begin to connect, revealing a layer of mystery beneath the surface.Review-There’s a certain patience required to settle into Thimmarajupalli TV. It doesn’t rush to impress, nor does it lean on dramatic highs early on. Instead, director Muniraju takes his time — perhaps a little too much, to establish the world, its people and their rhythms. The first half feels like a long, observational walk through the village, capturing its textures, silences and small interactions. This slow-burn approach may test your patience initially. Scenes linger, conversations unfold without urgency, and the narrative seems content simply existing rather than progressing. But there’s a method to this stillness. By the time the film begins to reveal its underlying tensions, you’re already familiar with the space — its people, their quirks and their unspoken conflicts.It is in the second half that the film finds its footing. The mystery element, hinted at earlier, begins to take shape, pulling the narrative into a more engaging space. The shift isn’t dramatic but noticeable, the storytelling gains purpose, and the emotional stakes become clearer. What once felt meandering now starts to feel deliberate. The film benefits immensely from its rooted setting. The rural backdrop isn’t stylised for effect; it feels lived-in and authentic. The cast blends seamlessly into this world, delivering natural performances that add to the film’s grounded tone. There’s an ease in how the characters interact, making even simple moments feel genuine.The background score works effectively in enhancing mood, particularly in the latter portions where the mystery deepens. It doesn’t overpower but gently nudges the narrative forward, adding weight to key moments. Visually too, the film stays true to its setting, capturing the quiet beauty and isolation of rural life. That said, the pacing remains inconsistent. Even in the more engaging second half, certain stretches feel slightly indulgent, as though the film is reluctant to let go of its observational style. A tighter edit could have made the experience more cohesive without losing its essence.Thimmarajupalli TV is not a film that reveals itself instantly. It asks for time and patience, but rewards it with sincerity and a quietly engaging narrative. It may stumble along the way, but its rooted storytelling and stronger latter half ensure that it leaves a lasting impression.—Sanjana Pulugurtha

The new Netflix comedy “Roommates” wastes no time before immersing audiences in campus co-habitation drama. We see a girl running through the quad before helplessly looking up to see her angry roommate throwing her underwear and used sanitary products out the window. A screaming match ensues, and we’re immediately left to wonder how they got here and how the feud will be resolved.

Except they’re not the eponymous roommates we’re supposed to care about. Chandler Levack‘s new film is structured like a Russian nesting doll of roommate stories, as the two girls are confronted by a guidance counselor who decides to tell them another story of freshman year roommates who didn’t get along at first. Aside from the occasional “How I Met Your Mother”-style reaction cutaway, that’s the last we see of those initial foes.

The real story is about Devon (Sadie Sandler), a soon-to-be freshman who is going through the universal experience of hoping that everything clicks for her in college after failing to find the right friends in middle school and high school. She’s cautiously optimistic when Celeste (Chloe East) agrees to be her roommate after a chance meeting at orientation, hoping the party-loving free spirit will help her come out of her shell and separate her from the nerdy image she maintained in high school.

But Devon quickly has to learn the lesson that hits so many of us sitcom and rom-com enthusiasts hard in early adulthood: the notion that opposites attract is utter nonsense, and trying to merge your day-to-day life with someone dramatically different is far more trouble than it’s worth. The two girls instantly clash, and Celeste remains a consistent thorn in Devon’s side as she tries to navigate all the familiar story beats of freshman year (parties, boys, missed homework assignments, Thanksgiving, et al).

Levack, a promising indie filmmaker with credits like “I Like Movies” and “Mile End Kicks” to her name, does serviceable work on what is clearly a director-for-hire job. There’s only so much visual wiggle room when you’re working with the all-too-familiar Netflix comedy aesthetic, but she gets distinct and compelling performances out of her two leads, executing the “Odd Couple” schtick without devolving into caricature. Jimmie Fowlie and Ceara O’Sullivan’s script relies on formulaic coming-of-age beats before drifting unexpectedly into absurdism in the third act. The film would have been stronger and more consistent by embracing that weirder tone from the beginning, but we’ll take what we can get.

While “Roommates” boasts plenty of familiar faces in supporting roles of varying consequence — Nick Kroll runs through all of the cliched “liberal dad” tropes, while Natasha Lyonne shows up as Devon’s endlessly supportive mom in a role that makes little use of her myriad talents — it’s primarily a star vehicle for its two leads. The film was produced through Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison production label, and it’s fair to assume that it exists to showcase Sadie’s talents as a performer. (Fittingly, parts of the film deal with the idea that being a nepo baby isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.) The young actress demonstrates a wide range of comedic and light drama chops, suggesting that she might be just as successful at playing approachable everywoman types as her father is.

While the comedy is hit-or-miss, “Roommates” does its best work when it shows how daunting teenage friendships can feel. Anyone who has ever defined themselves by an arbitrary social order designed by the cruelest and stupidest people on the planet (which is to say, anyone who has been a college freshman), should be able to relate to some of Devon’s struggles, and the film treats her problems with an admirable amount of empathy.

The film won’t be remembered as a campus classic, or even in the upper half of college movies, but it’s also not hard to see a world where somebody watches it at exactly the right time in their lives and proceeds to cherish it forever. “Roommates” has a real chance at being a formative experience for someone, which is more than a lot of movies can say. But those of us who have already been sufficiently formed? We can find better things to stream this weekend.

Grade: C+

“Roommates” is now streaming on Netflix.

Want to stay up to date on IndieWire’s film reviews and critical thoughts? Subscribe here to our newly launched newsletter, In Review by David Ehrlich, in which our Chief Film Critic and Head Reviews Editor rounds up the best new reviews and streaming picks along with some exclusive musings — all only available to subscribers. 

The tagline for “Lee Cronin’s The Mummy” is “Some things are meant to stay buried.” That also applies to the misguided “Lee Cronin’s The Mummy,” which should definitely stay deep underground for eternity.

Let’s face it, Mummy has always been the lamest of the classic, old-school monsters, a grunting, slow-moving and poorly bandaged zombie. Dracula has a bite, after all, and Frankenstein’s monster has superhuman strength. What’s Mummy going to do? Lumber us to death?

Cronin evidently believes there’s still life in this old Egyptian cursed dude, despite being portrayed as the dim-witted straight guy in old Abbott and Costello movies or appearing as high priest Imhotep in the Brendan Fraser franchise.

So Cronin has resurrected The Mummy but grafted it onto the body of a demon possession movie. His Mummy is actually not a man at all, but a teenage girl who is controlled by an ancient demon and grunts a lot.

“Lee Cronin’s The Mummy” — the title alone is a flex, like he gets his name on this thing like Guillermo del Toro, John Carpenter or Tyler Perry? — is overly long, constantly ping-pongs between Cairo and Albuquerque, New Mexico, and after a sedate first half, plows into a gross-out bloodfest at the end that doesn’t match the rest of the film.

Cronin, behind the surprise 2023 horror hit “Evil Dead Rise,” is weirdly obsessed by toes and teeth, and while he gets kudos for having an Arabic-speaking main actor (a superb May Calamawy) and portraying real-feeling Middle Eastern characters, there’s a feeling that no one wanted to edit his weirder impulses, like some light, inter-family cannibalism.

It starts with the abduction of a Cairo-based family’s young daughter, who resurfaces eight years later in a 3,000-year-old sarcophagus, catatonic and showing symptoms of severe trauma. The sarcophagus literally has dropped out of the sky as part of a plane crash.

“She just needs our care and support and time,” the dad (Jack Reynor, remaining good despite the slog) says until his daughter starts moving like a feral creature, doing horror-movie bone cracking poses, projectile vomiting, creeping behind walls and eating bugs. You know, like most teenagers.

He teams up with our Cairo-based cop to unravel the mystery of what happened to his eldest daughter, who starts messing with her family — levitating some, hypnotizing others to slam their heads into wood beams, all with a creepy, sing-song voice. It’s The Mummy as influencer.

“We can’t fix her if we don’t know what happened to her,” says dad, who goes so far as consulting with an expert on the cursive writing system used for Ancient Egypt.

Cronin leans into all the horror cliches — storms, dollhouses, flickering lights, muttered spells, whacked-out cults, bathtubs filled with rotting water, skittering insects and random coyotes — to establish a staid and eerie foundation, only to go over-the-top gorefest at the end, which prompted laughter at a recent showing.

The Egyptian-U.S. detective story grafted onto this monster movie is a nice touch but gets lost, and there’s perhaps the weirdest use of The Band’s classic song “The Weight.” (Cronin also uses a Bruce Springsteen song).

In publicity material for the movie, Cronin reveals that he made his movie after realizing there hasn’t been a truly terrifying version made of “The Mummy.” He’s right. Even after his own offering.

“Lee Cronin’s The Mummy,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release that is in theaters Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for strong disturbing violent content, gore, language and brief drug use. Running time: 133 minutes. Half a star out of four.

Related