Prairie Miller

The notion is not all that farfetched after viewing Boogie Woogie, cynical eavesdropper art snob fare peering into the pretentious when not cruel machinations transpiring in the world of creative merchandise commerce.

Reaching for a new low in a movie about getting accidentally high during a family memorial service, Death At A Funeral also manages to come up with possibly an entire new genre: post-mortem grossout, don't ask.

A horror movie in its own way but more giddy than gory, The Joneses takes the creepy premise of say, The Stepford Wives and its obedient, robotic consumerism, to the commercially invasive next level of in-your-face upscale pseudo-marital marketing.

It's a bittersweet, historically candid stroll down memory lane defining with raw and resonant clarity, who we are as a people and a nation.

Yeah, so many women are trying to figure out if they've prioritized a career for so long, and how is it even possible to bring a family into that mix. Hopefully you can laugh about it. Because that's better than...stewing about it!