In the deceptively serene streets where manicured lawns mask mounting unease, and every neighbor’s glance feels loaded, a young family moves into a house steeped in quiet history. What begins as ordinary suburban life quickly frays into suspicion, strange noises after dark, and the creeping realization that the people next door might be hiding something far darker than bad taste in curtains. Paranoia takes root, friendships twist, and the comforting illusion of safety crumbles—because in The Burbs, the scariest things aren’t always lurking in the shadows; sometimes they’re waving from across the fence. The Burbs Review (season 1) COMING SOON WOKE REPORT What They Get Right Even though it’s a female-focused reboot of a movie that had a male lead, the showrunners do a pretty decent job of representing traditional family dynamics. This pushedthe Woke-O-Meter calculus more toward BASED than some might like. The husband, while not a paragon of masculinity, is also not a feminine dullard constantly apologizing to his superior-in-every-way wife. She genuinely respects and loves him,  and even accepts his recriminations of her behavior when they are deserved. The husband is the breadwinner. The wife was a practicing attorney, but gave it up to raise their baby. So, she stays home and tends the house and the child. The wife absolutely loves being a mother and doesn’t resent how her life has changed because of him. No one was more shocked than I. Let’s Get It Out of the Way The cast has been needlessly “updated” for “modern audiences.” As you can see, the white men have been cut down to two supporting characters. The neighbor, played by Mark Proksch, is an oddball/autistic nerd (though he’s probably the best character). The husband and his diverse best friend are hardly in the show. The buddy is a moderately pathetic cuckold. The military-centric character is now an aging lesbian, and they remind you of it occasionally, and needlessly several times throughout the season. The First Two Episodes There’s a little woke nonsense every few minutes in the first two episodes, but it drops nearly completely off after that. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone with some serious authority saw these first two and put a stop to it. It’s an incredibly abrupt drop off. However, if you plan on watching the series, you’re going to have to prepare yourself for the following orbital bombardment. Within the first fifteen seconds, the lead calls the idealic suburban neighborhood “microaggressive” because it’s so nice. Modern racism regularly rears its ugly head. That is to say, not actual racism, but the modern version in which everyone white is a beneficiary of systemic racism BS. Multiple white characters behave as though they’ve never seen a black person before. They are perfectly friendly and sincere, but a little awkward about the main character and/or her baby being black. A white woman refers to the main character’s son as a “cute little moca munchkin,” and the main character makes a face as though she finds this off-putting. Of course, a black person could say the same thing without a problem. The cops are called on the main character, and she immediately assumes it’s because she’s black (it’s not). The main character asks her brother, “Am I a bad mom for bringing my melanated son here (to the neighborhood)?” The diverse best friend, of an undisclosed Middle Eastern or perhaps Western Asian background, reassures the lead that everything will be ok once the neighborhood learns to interact with her. He tells her, “When my family moved here, some people didn’t know how to feel about us.” The main character’s husband and his best friend commute via train every morning, and we are treated to them chatting about their feelings like a couple of chicks. In one of these struggle sessions, we learn that the best friend’s trauma from that time runs deep. He had to suffer the torture of being called a rather benign yet culturally insensitive name throughout his time at school. They treat it like he had to watch his family being murdered. In another, the friend acts like his buddy, raising a black child in 2026 is an act of bravery on the level of rescuing people from a burning building. The beta best friend peruses a magazine from the early 2000s and laments, “I totally forgot how terrible magazines used to be on women’s bodies.” The magazine dared to show a beautiful woman on the cover. Bad Boys The main character regularly reprimands her husband for daring to mention the police in anything but a negative way. One of the recurring police characters (all are white, of course) is a toxic male caricature. We Are the Letter People As mentioned, the ex-military character from the original has been gender swapped with a lesbian woman. The main character’s brother is flamboyantly gay, but he’s also barely in the show. It’s Systemic, Boogie Woogie Woogie Woog The main character, when referring to a kidnap victim, says that it’s no mystery that the police looked for her because she was white. The obvious implication is that no one searches for black kidnap victims. The post The Burbs (season 1) first appeared on Worth it or Woke.

In the blood-soaked sands of ancient Sparta, where the Agoge’s merciless trials forge boys into unbreakable killers, a young warrior and his brother unleash primal fury against savage beasts, shadowy gods, and fates woven in prophecy. Blades whirl in pixelated rage, platforms crumble under vengeful leaps, as bonds of brotherhood temper the spark of god-slaying wrath—hurtling toward a legacy drenched in glory and inevitable doom.        The post God of War Sons of Sparta first appeared on Worth it or Woke.

In the fractured underworld where Chronos’ chains bind gods and mortals alike, a fierce witch-princess unleashes arcane fury and blade-sharp precision on endless runs through shadowy domains. Empowered by fickle Olympian boons and haunted by familial ghosts, she battles titanic horrors and unraveling fates—each glorious defeat forging her closer to vengeance, revelation, and a destiny etched in eternal night.      The post Hades II first appeared on Worth it or Woke.

We mourn the loss of Robert Duvall, the acclaimed actor whose powerful presence defined decades of American cinema. He passed away peacefully on February 15, 2026, at his home in Virginia, at the age of 95. His wife, Luciana, released a moving statement: “To the world, he was an Academy Award-winning actor, a director, a storyteller. To me, he was simply everything.” The family asks that instead of formal services, friends and fans remember him by watching one of his films, gathering with loved ones over a meal to share memories, or taking a reflective drive—simple acts that captured his grounded spirit. Born in San Diego in 1931, Duvall grew up as the son of a Navy rear admiral and a mother with ties to the arts. After serving in the Army during the Korean War, he trained at the Neighborhood Playhouse in New York, where he shared classes with emerging talents like Dustin Hoffman and Gene Hackman. His screen debut came in 1962 with the quiet, haunting role of Boo Radley in To Kill a Mockingbird, showcasing his gift for subtle, layered performances. Over the years, he became one of the most respected figures in film, bringing depth and authenticity to a wide range of characters. Some of his most memorable roles include: The steady, calculating Tom Hagen in The Godfather (1972) and The Godfather Part II (1974) The larger-than-life Lieutenant Colonel Bill Kilgore in Apocalypse Now (1979), delivering the now-classic line about the smell of napalm in the morning The abrasive Major Frank Burns in MASH* (1970) The stern but devoted Bull Meechum in The Great Santini (1979) The wise, adventurous Augustus “Gus” McCrae in the miniseries Lonesome Dove (1989), earning him an Emmy The troubled country singer Mac Sledge in Tender Mercies (1983), which brought him the Oscar for Best Actor Duvall earned seven Academy Award nominations throughout his career, including the record for the oldest nominee at 84 for his role in The Judge (2014). Beyond acting, he directed and produced, notably with The Apostle (1997), a personal project he wrote, directed, and starred in, exploring themes of faith and second chances. He often spoke about acting as deeply personal, drawing on one’s own experiences to bring truth to the character. His commitment to craft left a lasting mark on the industry. Robert Duvall’s body of work will continue to resonate, reminding us of the enduring power of skilled storytelling and genuine emotion. May he rest in peace.The post Legendary Actor, Robert Duvall, has Died at 95 first appeared on Worth it or Woke.

In the sleek, transparent confines of a modern glass fortress, a desperate couple executes one final high-stakes heist to escape a crushing mob debt, targeting a seemingly absent defense attorney whose home hides more than valuables.    The post Misdirection first appeared on Worth it or Woke.