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If you have scrolled through Netflix, Disney+, or Max sometime in the last 18 months, you have likely experienced a specific flavor of existential dread. It usually hits right after the auto-playing trailer finishes. It’s that sinking feeling of, “Wait... didn’t I already watch this ten years ago? And five years before that?”

We are living through the Great IP Gold Rush. Hollywood has decided that original ideas are "too risky," and has instead turned the last forty years of pop culture into a content quarry. We’ve mined Star Wars into dust, resurrected Dexter three times, and turned Gossip Girl into something that looks like an AI hallucination of a rich person’s dorm room. WowGirls.24.03.12.Lily.Blossom.Fuck.Me.XXX.1080...

Five Nights at Freddy’s . Don’t go in expecting high art. Go in expecting animatronic murder carnage. It is the most faithful video game adaptation since the first Sonic , and Josh Hutcherson deserves a medal for running away from puppets. If you have scrolled through Netflix, Disney+, or