Season 4 keeps rolling — and this week, Cade and Kit land on a comedy that actually works for them: Freakier Friday (the sequel). They go in expecting “light, silly, family-safe” and end up pleasantly surprised by how consistently funny it is, mostly because the performances commit hard to the body-swap chaos.

They pull the Rotten Tomatoes split right away: 73% critics vs 91% audience, which tracks with how they frame it — critics see it as “inoffensive with a cardboard heart,” while audiences are there for the comfort-food nostalgia and the call-backs. They read one audience review praising the original references and family vibe, and a critic line from Ty Burr that basically sums up the movie’s reputation: sweet intentions, not exactly deep.

Plot-wise, they lay it out clean: Lindsay Lohan is now a mom/producer, engaged to a man who also has a teenage daughter. The two teens don’t vibe, the wedding planning is tense, and a tarot-reader-triggered body swap hits… but with a twist. Mom swaps with her daughter, and Grandma swaps with the fiancé’s daughter, which gives the sequel its extra comedic engine. The girls (inside adult bodies) try to sabotage the marriage, while the adults (stuck as teens) stumble through school and teen life — until everyone realizes the “hearts need to change” message isn’t about stopping the wedding, it’s about shifting perspective.

Their biggest praise is the comedy craft: Jamie Lee Curtis doing teenager energy in her own body is the standout, and they keep circling back to how rare good physical comedy is — especially when it’s clean and still genuinely funny. They cite specific bits that worked (awkward teen flirting, driving, food fight, goofy chaos) and note the movie is almost two hours but doesn’t feel long because it stays brisk and doesn’t drag.

Where they ultimately land is the key takeaway: this is a safe, watchable “movie night” pick that doesn’t feel like brain-rot for adults. It’s surface-level, but intentionally so — a “sweet, silly, low-effort” movie in the best way, and that’s the lane it wins in. Final shared rating: 3/5 — middle-of-the-road, but recommended, and something they’d rewatch (especially as a background family movie).

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Episode three of the Top 25 of 2025 lineup brings Cade and Kit to Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, and the big question is: is this actually the final one? (They’re not convinced.) What is clear is that it’s exactly what you think it is—global catastrophe, three days to save the world, AI gone rogue, and Tom Cruise running at full speed toward the apocalypse.

This time the threat is artificial intelligence taking control of nuclear systems, forcing Ethan Hunt and company to locate the original source code—naturally buried at the bottom of the ocean inside a destroyed submarine. The premise is timely, and Kit gives the film credit for making AI feel genuinely dangerous without leaning into campy “evil robot voice” territory. Visually, the threat feels massive. The spectacle works. The cinematography is strong. The submarine sequence in particular stands out as tense and beautifully shot, even if much of the film lives in shadows and whispered exposition.

And there’s a lot of whispering.

For nearly three hours, it’s hushed strategy sessions, dark corridors, ticking clocks, and last-second saves. Cade points out that the structure becomes repetitive: explain the impossible plan, insist it can’t be done, Ethan says it can, then he proves everyone wrong in the nick of time. Rinse. Repeat. Add another location. Add another obstacle. Add another returning character from a previous installment for nostalgia. It all connects neatly, and the callbacks are appreciated—but it also feels padded. As they put it, it’s a journey. A very long journey.

The AI angle does introduce a clever twist: since the system has predicted every likely move based on data, the team must act against their own instincts. That idea is smart and current. But instead of tightening the storytelling, the film stacks side villains and extra hurdles on top of the main conflict. For Cade, it starts to feel like an action-adventure trilogy compressed into one movie. For Kit, it becomes predictable—of course he’s going to save the world. Of course it’s at the last second. That’s the franchise promise.

They also debate who this movie is really for. Action fans likely appreciate the tactical government intrigue, globe-trotting locations, and Cruise’s physical commitment to stunts (yes, the deep-sea sequence is impressive). But as critics sitting between audience and Rotten Tomatoes consensus (80% critics / 88% audience), they find themselves lukewarm. It’s not terrible. It delivers what it promises. It just doesn’t surprise.

In the end, they land together on a 2 out of 5. Not because it fails technically—the spectacle is strong and the production value is undeniable—but because neither of them would rewatch it or actively recommend it. If you love Mission: Impossible, you’ll get exactly what you came for. If you’re hoping for something fresher or structurally daring, this one plays it safe.For a franchise about impossible missions, they were just hoping for one unexpected move.

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Season four, episode two keeps the promise of what this “Best of 2025” format is supposed to be: a quick reality check between critics, audience buzz, and what it actually feels like to sit down and watch the thing. Cade and Kit come in already knowing Sinners is getting serious love—97% on the Tomatometer and 96% on the popcorn meter—and the early review scroll backs that up. It’s basically unanimous praise, with the only real outlier being one guy who found it “boring,” bailed early, and then tried to convince himself it must be his fault.

Their recap lands clean: two twin brothers return to 1930s Mississippi with plans to open a juke spot, pulling together friends, exes, and community to make the opening night happen. The cousin—gifted on guitar—becomes the hinge point, because the film’s core idea is that truly powerful music can “lift the veil” between time, the living, and the dead. That’s the magic… and also the danger, because it draws something hungry in. Once the night kicks off, the movie shifts hard into vampire territory, with the threat building outside the door until the invitation threshold gets crossed and it turns into a full siege: bodies pile up, the crowd becomes a horde, and survival turns into improvisation—garlic, silver, stakes, whatever works.

Where they start to wobble is the lore congestion. Kit clocks that the film is doing a lot at once—music mythology, vampire rules, segregation-era Mississippi, KKK terror, witchcraft/voodoo nods, Irish oppression parallels, Native American warnings—and while the movie is clearly smart and intentional, they felt like they had to do homework afterward to connect some dots. The ending is the biggest “wait… what?” moment: the present-day tag implies characters survived (or made deals) in ways the movie doesn’t fully explain, which leaves them asking how the vampire rules actually work if sunlight dusting is real, but staking “individually” still matters, and the “creator” logic doesn’t fully track.

Still: they recommend it. They land at a 4/5 because it’s genuinely worth seeing—beautifully shot, exceptionally lit for dark environments and darker skin tones, strong performances, and the music is the glue (and the reason they’d rewatch and replay the soundtrack). Their knock isn’t that it fails—it’s that it’s crowded. A little trimming before the party, a little more clarity on the supernatural rules, and a sharper final beat would’ve pushed it into “locked” territory. As-is, it’s a film that assumes a smart audience—and mostly earns that confidence—even if it leaves you googling a few things on the walk out.

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📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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Season four kicks off with Cade and Kit officially shifting into their “Best of 2025” format: five categories, ranked by box office, Rotten Tomatoes, and audience scores, now using the five-star scale to see where their taste lands against the wider review world. They open with a “let’s start strong” pick — One Battle After Another — partly because it’s already getting major awards attention, but they’re immediately skeptical of the critic/audience split and the type of criticism that focuses on craft references over whether a movie actually works.

They summarize the film as a long, messy chain of events: an anti-resistance/elite-club conspiracy setup, a missing mom, a burned-out dad hiding out, and a 16-year-old daughter who eventually gets pulled into the endgame. They clock a few bright spots — a couple clever visual jokes (the “taco” shirt), Del Toro’s sensei character feeling grounded, and DiCaprio convincingly playing “sloppy disaster” — but most of their reaction is frustration: the tone is confused, the stakes don’t build, the movie drags (2h 41m), and they keep noticing how often they’re feeling the runtime.

Their biggest complaints are that it doesn’t satisfy any audience lane: not enough action for action viewers, not layered enough for arthouse/story people, not funny enough for comedy lovers, and even as critics they feel it’s “pretty but empty.” They call out a repetitive single-note piano cue that becomes distracting, the script feeling trope-stacked, and a finale that wraps with a cliché “letter” setup that feels like it’s begging for a sequel rather than earning an ending. By the end, they land on the simplest verdict possible: one star — not because it has zero craft, but because they wouldn’t recommend it to anyone and they can’t figure out who the movie is actually for.

🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2kaH2BpUcEouX5LWCUQ7ed?si=ff1e2b355c5944e1

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In this final installment of our Heated Rivalry mini-series, Cade and Kit wrap up season one by reviewing episodes five and six—and unfortunately, the momentum never quite arrives. After hoping the series would finally deliver on its emotional promise, both hosts felt these episodes doubled down on the same unresolved tension, long conversations, and stalled character development that had already worn thin.

While episode five briefly revisits the emotional high point from episode three—highlighting the older player publicly coming out after winning the cup—the show quickly shifts back to the central pair, whose relationship still feels clunky and underdeveloped. Key emotional moments are talked through rather than lived in, leaving the audience to assume depth that never fully shows up on screen. Even scenes meant to feel intimate or vulnerable come across as stiff or oddly staged, making it difficult to connect with what should be high-stakes revelations.

Episode six moves the characters to a secluded cottage, a setting that feels primed for emotional payoff, but the opportunity is largely missed. Conversations about honesty and fear replace meaningful action, and pivotal moments—family discovery, parental confrontation, and emotional fallout—are resolved too neatly and too quickly. What could have landed as a powerful cliffhanger instead wraps up cleanly, undercutting the tension the series spent so long building.

By the end, Cade and Kit found themselves questioning the hype entirely. While they appreciated the show’s attention to consent, vulnerability, and care in intimate scenes—particularly as representation for younger queer audiences—the overall storytelling felt disjointed and emotionally flat. Episode three remains the clear standout, but as a full series, Heated Rivalry ultimately left them disappointed, closing out season one with more frustration than fulfillment.

🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2kaH2BpUcEouX5LWCUQ7ed?si=ff1e2b355c5944e1

🍏 Apple Podcasts: ⁠https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/cade-and-kit/id1771553610

📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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In part two of their Heated Rivalry mini-series, Cade and Kit dive into episodes three and four—and immediately feel a shift. Episode three stands out as the strongest installment so far, introducing a side character whose storyline feels emotionally grounded, clearly motivated, and far more cohesive than the main arc. The episode centers on a closeted hockey player and his growing relationship with Kip, a barista and art student, unfolding over a short, believable span of time. The pacing is tighter, the conversations are direct, and the emotional stakes are clearly communicated, especially around identity, fear, and the cost of staying hidden.

What resonates most is the honesty. The characters say what they mean, set boundaries, and react in ways that feel earned. Themes of consent, vulnerability, and quiet heartbreak are handled with maturity, and the episode earns its emotional payoff without overcomplicating the story. By the end, Cade and Kit both agree this episode could stand alone as a feature film—and they’re far more invested in these side characters than the supposed leads.

Episode four, however, swings the momentum back in the opposite direction. Returning to the main couple, the storytelling becomes muddled again, with large time jumps, unclear motivations, and emotionally flat scenes. Key moments—conflict, jealousy, intimacy—are introduced without enough buildup or consequence, leaving both hosts frustrated and disengaged. While the show hints at deeper issues like family pressure and internal conflict, it rarely commits to exploring them in a way that feels impactful.

Overall, episodes three and four average out to a modest rating, lifted almost entirely by the strength of episode three. Cade and Kit remain cautiously hopeful heading into the final episodes, but agree the series works best when it slows down, commits to emotional clarity, and lets its characters actually talk to each other.

🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2kaH2BpUcEouX5LWCUQ7ed?si=ff1e2b355c5944e1

🍏 Apple Podcasts: ⁠https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/cade-and-kit/id1771553610

📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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Cade & Kit are back for a quick, rapid “bandwagon review” before Season 4 kicks off, and they’re diving into the buzz around Heated Rivalry with a short three-episode mini-series. This first drop covers Episodes 1 and 2, watched on Crave, with both of them coming in mostly blind—no book, no reviews, no spoilers—just vibes and first impressions.

Episode one moves fast, covering a big stretch of time as two rising hockey stars (a Canadian rookie and a Russian rival) build a competitive dynamic that slowly shifts into something… else. The standout moment early on is a tight little gym sequence where the show leans into visual flirt tension in a way that feels more “feature film gaze” than typical sports drama—small details, close looks, steamy silence, and the sense that something is starting before anyone says it out loud. Both of them agree the pacing is quick and dense, to the point where you can’t half-watch it without losing the timeline jumps.

They also clock how much the show is already layering stakes outside the romance. The Canadian player is dealing with branding pressure as a minority face in a hyper-visible sport, while the Russian player’s world feels heavier—family expectations, money stress, and a father whose health is visibly declining. That context starts to matter more as the connection develops into a long-distance, secretive situationship, full of sporadic meetups and small bursts of texting across months, cities, and seasons.

By episode two, the relationship gets more emotionally complicated—more push/pull, more imbalance, and more “tender moment → shutdown” energy. Kit especially feels the whiplash of intimacy followed by cold distance, while Cade frames it as a realistic result of secrecy, career pressure, and two people who don’t fully know what they’re doing with the feelings yet. They both agree the show is trying to build something slow-burn and layered, but they’re not totally sold yet—even with the strong character groundwork and some surprisingly thoughtful handling of consent and first-time vulnerability.

Final verdict for Episodes 1–2 lands around a 3 out of 5 for both of them—“hopeful,” not hooked, but willing to watch at least one more. They’re intrigued by the growing ensemble cast and the broader story setup, but the rapid time jumps and early pacing make it harder to fully lock in. They’ll be back after the next two episodes to see if it finally clicks.

🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2kaH2BpUcEouX5LWCUQ7ed?si=ff1e2b355c5944e1

🍏 Apple Podcasts: ⁠https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/cade-and-kit/id1771553610

📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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In this special bridge episode between Season 3 and our upcoming Season 4, we are diving deep into Guillermo del Toro’s highly anticipated Frankenstein. While the classic creature feature is a genre that usually divides us—with Kit loving the monsters and Cade being a tougher buy-in—del Toro’s $120 million reimagining on Netflix left us both floored. We break down the film's unique three-part structure, moving from the madness of the doctor’s childhood to the heartbreaking perspective of the creature himself. From the stunning cinematography and Rembrandt-inspired lighting to the complex themes of loneliness, father-son redemption, and the search for a soul, this adaptation is a far cry from the "cheesy" monster movies of the past.

Stick around until the end of the episode for some major channel updates! We are officially prepping for Season 4: The Best of 2025, and with it comes a massive shift in how we review films. To gear up for our official Rotten Tomatoes critic application, we are moving to a standardized five-star rating system. Whether you’re here for the deep-dive film analysis or the "Real People" banter, this episode is the perfect primer for the new era of the show.

Key Highlights:

• The Del Toro Touch: Why this $120M budget actually shows up on screen.

• Creature Perspective: How humanizing the monster changes the entire story.

• Theme Analysis: The intersection of science, faith, and the human need for connection.

• Road to Season 4: Our new ranking system and the path to becoming Rotten Tomatoes certified.

🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2kaH2BpUcEouX5LWCUQ7ed?si=ff1e2b355c5944e1

🍏 Apple Podcasts: ⁠https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/cade-and-kit/id1771553610

📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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They wrap Season 3 by looking back at Cade’s picks and how those films shaped the overall Stories That Stick experiment. Cade’s list clocked in at just under 20 hours of runtime, noticeably shorter than Kit’s, which already hinted at the difference in how they choose movies. Cade gravitates toward clearer narratives and emotional resolution, while Kit tends to favor films that linger, challenge, or leave meaning open-ended.

Rewatching these films sparked a lot of reflection, especially around how stories age and how personal context changes reception. Some movies, like The Pursuit of Happyness, landed even harder this time around, feeling more relevant now than on first watch. Others, like Forrest Gump, still held up as emotionally sincere, even as they sparked conversations about how modern audiences might receive that kind of sweeping, improbable storytelling today.

The biggest surprises came from where they aligned and where they didn’t. To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar emerged as a standout for both of them—joyful, absurd, and unexpectedly layered—while Patch Adams remained the most divisive, highlighting how tone, casting, and intent can completely shift a viewer’s experience. In the end, Cade edged out the season battle 4–2, with several ties, proving that consistency and emotional clarity can beat big swings.

They close the season by teasing what’s next: Season 4 will shift into ranking the best films of the year using box office performance, critic scores, and audience reactions, all while moving to a five-star rating system. Different structure, same debates.

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📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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As Season 3 of Stories That Stick nears its end, Cade and Kit take time to reflect on Kit’s movie picks and how those films shaped the season, their ongoing debates, and their evolving perspectives as movie critics. This episode looks back on the movies that mattered most to Kit, how they landed with Cade, and what the process revealed about taste, storytelling, and why certain films stay with us long after the credits roll.

The recap opens with a lighter moment as Kit explains the custom couture piece worn throughout the season, designed by Ayo of Faya Athleticwear specifically for the Stories That Stick shoot. Along with multiple photo sessions featuring tape, post-its, gum, and other “sticky” elements, the visuals became a clear extension of the season’s theme—stories that cling to memory and shape perspective.

From there, the conversation moves into the numbers behind Kit’s picks. Across the season, her films totaled 1,404 minutes, or just over 23 hours of runtime. Cade walks through how the rankings shook out from both sides, highlighting where their opinions aligned and where they diverged sharply. Kit’s top films included Life of Pi, Moulin Rouge, Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2, Colombiana, and Boyhood, while Cade’s personal rankings reordered the list significantly, putting Erin Brockovich at the top.

The episode reinforces a recurring theme from the season: while Cade and Kit often align on genre films, their tastes split when it comes to stylized, introspective, or experimental cinema. Kit reflects on her love of arthouse films, musicals, and stories rooted in isolation, visual immersion, and open-ended interpretation. Cade, on the other hand, gravitates toward grounded narratives, true stories, and films that offer clearer emotional resolution.

They revisit standout rewatches like Boyhood and Into the Wild, with Cade expressing renewed respect for Boyhood’s long-term commitment to storytelling, and Kit sharing how rewatching it reaffirmed her appreciation for cinema as an art form built on patience and risk. These moments highlight how revisiting impactful films later in life can shift perspective.

As the recap winds down, Cade and Kit reflect on what Stories That Stick revealed about them as critics and collaborators. Rather than framing their differences as conflict, they recognize them as the foundation of the show’s dynamic—proof that meaningful film conversations don’t require agreement, just honesty and curiosity.

The episode closes by teasing the next recap—Cade’s picks—and the final outcome of their season-long battle, reinforcing the idea that the films that matter most aren’t always the ones everyone loves, but the ones that continue to spark conversation long after the screen goes dark.

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🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/2kaH2BpUcEouX5LWCUQ7ed?si=ff1e2b355c5944e1

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📸 Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://instagram.com/cadeandkit

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