In this impromptu and deeply personal episode, Beth and Michelle discuss The Princess Bride in memory of Rob and Michele Reiner. Their deaths have left an enormous absence, not only for those who knew and loved them, but for generations shaped by their storytelling, advocacy, humanity, and belief that the world could become kinder and more equitable.

Rather than dwell solely in tragedy, Beth and Michelle celebrate what remains. The Princess Bride is a film overflowing with different forms of love: Westley and Buttercup’s enduring devotion, Inigo’s love for his father, Fezzik’s discovery of friendship and found family, and the quiet bond formed as a grandfather reads to his grandson. Its joy is inseparable from sadness, just as remembrance can contain laughter, gratitude, anger, and grief all at once.

The conversation explores the unusually warm production, the affection shared among its cast, Andre the Giant’s gratitude for being treated as an equal, Mandy Patinkin’s deeply personal performance, and the friendships that continued long after filming ended.

The film passes the Castellini Test through Buttercup and Valerie. Its racial representation remains extremely limited, however, together with the Tremors Index and Beth and Michelle give it an 8 out of 10 In a proto–Stitch Count score. An enduring classic with abundant warmth and humanity, but not the breadth of inclusion needed to reach the pinnacle.

This is a tribute to two people whose partnership joined creativity with civic purpose and to a story that continues connecting families, friends, romantics, adventurers, and anyone who still believes that love can survive distance, loss, and time.

As you wish, Rob and Michele.

*Stand By Me By dccharles is licensed under a Creative Commons License

Beth and Michelle watch Scrooged, the 1988 Christmas satire where Bill Murray’s ruthless television executive discovers that capitalism, cruelty, and an aggressively marketed live broadcast of A Christmas Carol have left him profoundly alone. Fortunately, three ghosts are prepared to intervene, with nostalgia, existential terror, and a considerable amount of physical violence.

Frank Cross has spent years narrowing his world to ambition and control, abandoning Claire, neglecting his brother, exploiting Grace, and firing Elliot Loudermilk on Christmas Eve. His supernatural journey does not magically erase those choices. It changes his perspective, forcing him to see the people whose needs, grief, and humanity he has trained himself to overlook. Redemption begins when he stops treating everyone else as supporting players in his own production.

The film narrowly passes the Castellini Test through Grace, Claire, and Wendy, with Grace especially essential to Frank’s emotional awakening. Its supporting cast provides more racial diversity than many holiday movies of its era, although the story remains firmly centered on Frank’s transformation.

Dated references, practical effects, Bobcat Goldthwait with a shotgun, Karen Allen’s radiant warmth, and Carol Kane beating the Christmas spirit into Bill Murray make Scrooged a chaotic but enduring reminder that becoming better is not a single miraculous moment. It is a habit and every one of us remains a work in progress.

Beth and Michelle revisit Happiest Season, the queer holiday rom-com where a Christmas visit becomes an exhausting journey back into the closet. Abby arrives expecting to meet her girlfriend’s accepting family, and possibly propose. Only to learn that Harper has lied about coming out and now expects her to pose as a straight roommate while navigating family competition, old flames, stolen necklaces, and an alarming shortage of personal boundaries.

Between frustrated sighs and cries of “just kiss Aubrey Plaza already,” Beth and Michelle examine why Abby and Riley’s easy connection feels so compelling, how Harper repeatedly leaves Abby powerless and isolated, and why being forced out is still a violation, even when Harper’s choices deeply hurt the person she loves. The conversation becomes personal as they reflect on hiding, protecting a partner, fearing rejection, and recognizing the moments when each of us has been either Harper or Abby.

The film offers meaningful queer representation, delightful appearances from Jinkx Monsoon and BenDeLaCreme, and a family capable of change. But its tidy romantic resolution remains complicated. Grab some hot chocolate with far too many marshmallows and join the blanket fort for festive red flags, messy forgiveness, and one holiday relationship that needs considerably more than Christmas magic.

Beth and Michelle revisit Clue, the 1985 murder mystery where six suspicious guests, one frantic butler, several conveniently placed weapons, and three contradictory endings transform political corruption into breathless farce. The plot may contain enough holes to resemble Swiss cheese, but Tim Curry’s manic energy and an extraordinary ensemble make the cheese far more important.

They explore the secrets beneath each character’s carefully constructed identity: Miss Scarlet’s unapologetic sexuality, Mrs. White’s weaponized bitterness, Colonel Mustard’s bluster, Professor Plum’s abuse of power, Mrs. Peacock’s political privilege, and Mr. Green’s fear of being exposed for who he is rather than something he has done. The film’s 1954 setting brings McCarthyism, ideological paranoia, and compulsory conformity into every deception.

Clue passes the Castellini Test, with its women essential to every possible resolution and speaking about far more than romance. Its racial diversity remains limited to minor roles, however, and its treatment of queerness carries the weight of its era. Even so, the pacing, performances, quotable dialogue, and gleeful absurdity keep it firmly within the comfort-movie rotation.

Beth and Michelle return to snowy Minnesota for Grumpy Old Men, the 1993 comedy in which Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau turn insults, pranks, ice fishing, and decades of resentment into a strangely tender form of companionship. Beneath the curmudgeonly jokes is a story about loneliness, grief, financial fear, mortality, and the lives people believe they are too old to begin again.

John and Max have spent years being together alone, watching one another through neighboring windows while refusing to acknowledge how deeply connected they remain. Ariel’s arrival disrupts that familiar misery, bringing movement and possibility back into their lives. Yet the men repeatedly treat her affection as something they can win, surrender, or trade without involving her in the decision.

The film technically passes the Castellini Test through Ariel and Melanie, but Beth and Michelle find little broader equity in a story centered almost entirely on older white men. Ariel drives the plot yet frequently loses her agency inside their rivalry. Even so, the movie’s deeper message endures: grief may alter a life without ending it, friendship can hide beneath decades of hostility, and nobody is too old to change direction or finally admit that the person next door matters.

Don't forget our friend of the show and guest, Pat Green is hosting the launch of his new Hearts of Glass novel (Hearts of Glass Fade Away and Radiate), along with Alexandra Charecky and her book is called Buford's Purposeful day. It will also be a trauma-informed conversation on surviving SA/DV, creative healing through art and writing, and opportunities for survivors to share and publish their stories.

Thrive Survivor Initiative Book Launch

Radiant-And-Thrive

Beth and Michelle settle beneath the quilt with Ever After, the warm and fiercely feminist Cinderella retelling where Leonardo da Vinci fills in for the fairy godmother and Drew Barrymore’s Danielle refuses to wait helplessly for a prince. Beneath its romance, breathtaking locations, jeweled slippers, and Angelica Huston’s magnificent cruelty is a story about autonomy, class, education, and the families people choose.

Danielle’s strength is not simply that she talks back or carries Henry away from danger. She refuses to let abuse alter how she treats others. The servants remain her family, Maurice’s freedom matters more than her comfort, and poverty never makes a person less deserving of dignity. Her intelligence challenges Henry’s privilege and inspires him to imagine education and opportunity beyond the aristocracy.

The film easily passes the Castellini Test, with Danielle, Rodmilla, Marguerite, Jacqueline, and others driving conversations and events beyond romance. It also embraces feminism as equity rather than female superiority. Cozy enough to fall asleep against someone’s shoulder yet substantial enough to provoke conversations about class and generational harm, Ever After remains a Cinderella story where kindness is strength, love encourages growth, and the heroine rescues herself before the prince arrives.

Beth and Michelle discuss Where the Heart Is, the 2000 drama about a pregnant seventeen-year-old abandoned at an Oklahoma Walmart and the community that slowly helps her build a life. What once felt primarily like a romantic story now reveals something richer: a journey from dependence and fear of abandonment toward agency, creative purpose, friendship, and found family.

Novalee receives extraordinary kindness, but she is not simply rescued by generous strangers. Sister Husband gives her a home and teaches her independence. Moses encourages her photography. Lexie becomes the sister who needs Novalee’s support as much as Novalee needs hers. Their relationship carries the film through motherhood, abuse, loss, rebuilding, and the understanding that accepting help does not make someone a burden.

The movie passes the Castellini Test, with Novalee, Lexie, Sister Husband, Ruth Meyers, and other women driving the story through relationships far beyond romance. Forney’s patient love matters because he never demands that Novalee choose him before she is ready. When she finally returns, she is no longer a frightened girl waiting for someone else to determine her future. She has created a home, a career, and a community, and can finally choose love without surrendering herself.

Supertobertacular reaches its unholy conclusion with a live Halloween watch-along of The Exorcist. Start the 1973 horror classic with Beth and Michelle’s countdown, then join them as they paint layered wooden Halloween crafts, negotiate drying times and missing brushes, react to Regan’s possession, and wander wherever the movie, or their increasingly chaotic conversation, takes them.

For Michelle, this is a first complete viewing of a film she has long avoided. What once sent audiences fainting from theaters now feels less traditionally frightening than profoundly sad, particularly in the physical and medical trauma inflicted on a twelve-year-old girl. Between demonic manifestations, invasive procedures, struggling priests, questionable parenting suggestions, and a director who placed his actors in genuine danger, Beth and Michelle consider faith beyond religion, the ethics of filmmaking, and whether every possessed child should simply be repossessed.

This is not a traditional review or a carefully edited discussion. It is a real-time craft-along filled with tapping brushes, wandering cats, Appalachian background noise, coughing, cursing, unexpected musical detours, and one extremely committed spicy demon. Queue up the movie, gather something creative to work on, and celebrate Halloween inside the warm, strange chaos of the blanket fort.

Apologies to the sound quality, as we are remodeling a 1950’s den to studio standards and had a lot of reflective surfaces. Things are changing here at the PeaPod and hopefully going forward we will be changing for the better. Stick with us as we grow and evolve!

Supertobertacular continues as Beth and Michelle welcome Pat Green back to confront the suburban nightmare of Poltergeist. What begins with television static, mischievous spirits, and a dead canary grows into a story about parenthood, corporate greed, medical neglect, domestic violence, childhood terror, and the terrible consequences of building an idyllic community over deliberately buried truths.

Steve and Diane Freeling feel unusually real because their marriage rests on friendship as much as romance. They tease each other, get high together, remember their shared history, and remain a team when their daughter disappears into another realm. Diane becomes the film’s emotional and physical force, repeatedly throwing herself into danger for her children, while Steve listens, adapts, and refuses the era’s expected role of domineering male hero.

Poltergeist passes the Castellini Test through Diane, Dr. Lesh, Tangina, and Dana, with multiple women essential to rescuing Carol Anne. The episode also considers the production’s use of real skeletons and the tragic lives later folded into the supposed “Poltergeist curse.” Beneath the clowns, trees, static, and spectacular effects, the film’s real monster is greed: the developer moved the headstones, left the bodies, and expected the families living above them to pay the price.

Don’t forget that we will be doing a Podbean Live Rewatch of The Exorcist (1973) on Oct 31 at 8pm est.

Please check out the Indiegogo for Pat Green’s Hearts of Glass: Fade Away and Radiate

Supertobertacular continues with Stir of Echoes, a supernatural mystery in which one reckless act of hypnosis opens Tom Witzke to a world he was never prepared to see. Beth and Michelle carry on despite an unfortunate recording mishap and explore a film filled with obsession, claustrophobic anxiety, domestic tension, and the terrifying consequences of telling the universe to make someone more open.

Tom’s visions gradually reveal the assault and murder of Samantha, a missing girl whose neighbors casually dismissed her as a runaway. As he relives pieces of her final moments, curiosity becomes empathy and empathy becomes compulsion. The ghost does not want to destroy his family; she wants the truth uncovered. The real danger comes from the living people who harmed her, concealed her body, and protected their sons at the expense of her family’s peace.

Stir of Echoes passes the Castellini Test through Maggie, Lisa, Debbie, and Samantha, with several women essential to the story’s resolution. Its cast lacks meaningful racial diversity, but the film remains an effective, oddly cozy ghost story, one where the supernatural is frightening, yet human cruelty, willful ignorance, and the instinct to protect powerful men are far worse.