Sometimes less is more. Werewolf by Night doesn’t try to reinvent the Marvel universe — and that’s precisely why it works. In just 52 minutes, Michael Giacchino delivers a sincere tribute to classic monster movies, with clear echoes of Universal and Hammer horror, wrapped in a black-and-white aesthetic that’s not just stylistic, but emotional. The atmosphere, the music, the production design… it all harks back to an era when horror was more about suggestion than gore. The special doesn’t aim to be a key piece of the MCU, and that’s a relief. There’s creative freedom, dark humor, and a simple yet effective story that doesn’t get lost in multiverses or cameos. Gael García Bernal is excellent as Jack, and his chemistry with Laura Donnelly makes you wish for more of them together. The werewolf as a tragic and heroic figure works, and the pulp/grindhouse flavor adds a special twist that sets this apart from other Marvel projects. It’s not perfect — the story could be more ambitious and some side characters feel underused — but as a tasty, lovingly made appetizer, it’s a win. It doesn’t reinvent anything, but it has soul.

If this franchise has shown anything, it’s that it can reinvent itself without losing its essence. Instead of going for another reboot or a typical prequel, this time we get a wild, relentless animated anthology that dives straight into the core of Predator: the hunt. Three episodes set in different eras, each with its own style and tone, but all sharing the same brutal, no-holds-barred energy. At times, it brings back the vibe of old-school video store thrillers — violent, tense, and just out to entertain. And in that sense, it delivers. The animation unlocks possibilities that live-action never could, and it’s clear the creators embraced that freedom. There are spectacular sequences, strong creature design, tight action, and visual storytelling that dares to push boundaries. While not all the stories hit the same high notes, the overall package keeps you watching and invested. Dan Trachtenberg, who already impressed with Prey, knows what he’s doing. This might not be as polished, but it carries that same energy and respect for the franchise. The episodic format also gives the human characters more space to breathe — a rarity in Predator stories. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it shakes up the formula with style and confidence. For those who thought the saga was running on fumes, this shows there’s still plenty left in the tank. It’s not perfect, but it’s entertaining, intense, and brings just enough novelty to make you want more.

What If...? is exactly what its title promises: a narrative playground where Marvel gets to shake up its own rules and reimagine characters with total freedom. What if Peggy became Captain Carter? What if T’Challa was Star-Lord? Each episode throws out the rulebook and runs with it. Not every story hits equally hard, but when it works, it’s a real treat for fans. The animation is top-notch, blending comic book aesthetics with fluid, dynamic motion. There's humor, action, and just the right amount of surprise. Sure, it leans on fan service, but it does so with good pacing and no pretension. It’s not here to redefine the MCU, just to have fun with it — and it succeeds. If you're not familiar with Marvel, you might feel a bit lost. But if you are, you'll have a blast. It’s pure entertainment, crafted with affection and enough creativity to stand out. It may not be the deepest or most essential Marvel story, but you can tell they had fun making it. And that energy is contagious.

Skeleton Crew doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not: it’s a light, youth-oriented series with a nostalgic 80s vibe and a sense of group adventure that feels familiar. It doesn’t try to be Andor or The Mandalorian, and that’s fine. It takes a different route, aiming to hook younger viewers into the Star Wars universe through friendship, exploration, and that feeling of discovering the galaxy for the first time. At times it brings to mind The Goonies, Stranger Things, or even E.T. —and I don’t mean that negatively. The series knows what it wants to be and leans into it. From the music to the production design, everything seems crafted to tap into the nostalgia of 80s kids while also reaching a new generation. The young cast has charm and energy, and Jude Law plays a nicely balanced role that adds both mystery and warmth. Is it predictable? Quite. Are the references obvious? Sure. But that’s not always a bad thing. The show doesn’t overcomplicate itself —it just gets to the point, keeps things light, and delivers what it promises. It’s easy to watch, entertaining, and clearly understands its audience. It may not be deep or unforgettable, but it’s a friendly, accessible adventure that reminds us why we fell in love with Star Wars as kids. And if it gets new viewers to feel the same, then mission accomplished.

Star Wars: Ahsoka really worked for me. It doesn’t reach the level of Andor —nothing does after that masterpiece— but it gets close enough to deserve a solid 9. Seeing Sabine, Ezra, and even Thrawn again was a thrill. Rosario Dawson nails Ahsoka, and Dave Filoni continues the Rebels legacy with care, ambition, and a touch of melancholy. The show is crafted with love, and while the pace is slow at times, it allows the big moments to breathe. But here’s the thing: what about viewers who haven’t seen Rebels? Ahsoka doesn’t really stop to catch them up. If you know the backstory, it’s all meaningful and layered. If not, it may feel confusing, distant, or even emotionally flat. Filoni clearly chose to please long-time fans over winning over newcomers. Visually, it holds up well —the animation-inspired look works— and the action scenes avoid falling into empty spectacle. Ahsoka isn’t perfect, but it has heart —something many recent Star Wars projects lack. It’s more of a continuation than an introduction, and that’s both its strength and its limitation. But if you’re already invested, it gives you something truly rewarding.