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It's a pleasant surprise to find some of the year's best movies enthusiastically acknowledged by the Academy, but plenty of greatness has been left by the wayside.

Alexandre Singh and Natalie Musteata's film is set in a dystopian version of Paris where kissing is forbidden and purchases are made through small acts of violence.

Ryan Murphy attempts to comment on incels, celebrity culture, and the age of Ozempic in a new FX series about a drug that makes its users young and gorgeous, at a terrible price.

Or is it just a tempest in a tinpot?

Recommendations from New Yorker writers.