February Staff Picks

Lani McHenry

One Day

“It’s one of the great cosmic mysteries. How is it that someone can go from being a total stranger to the most important person in your life?” – One Day, Netflix

There’s a special ache in my chest, an overwhelming cacophony of emotion when I think about the Netflix adaptation of One Day, based on David Nicholls’ beloved novel. When it dropped in February of 2024, it scratched an itch in my soul I didn’t even know existed. I still watch it occasionally to feel something.

The Netflix original series, One Day, follows Emma and Dexter, who forge an unexpected friendship on the night of their graduation from the University of Edinburgh. From that moment on, we witness the messy, beautiful, and unpredictable twists of their lives over the span of twenty years. And trust me—a lot can happen in twenty years. This series isn’t just another romantic drama; it’s a vulnerable exploration of love, friendship, and the bittersweet passage of time. As someone who adores a good Netflix romance, this adaptation stands head and shoulders above the typical syrupy, made-for-streaming love stories. It cuts through the fluff to capture the raw humanity that seeps into our connections—both in the moments we share and the ones we spend apart from those we love. Emma and Dexter are perfectly flawed and effortlessly relatable. If you haven’t yet watched Netflix’s One Day or read Nicholls’ novel, I can’t recommend it enough. Buckle up for an emotional rollercoaster—you’ll laugh, cry, and maybe, just maybe, feel that special ache, too.

Bea Basa

Piranesi

I am well and truly aware I am late to the party. I’ve owned a copy for months, but didn’t get around to it until recently. I can say now that I regret not reading it sooner; Piranesi truly is a marvel of fiction.

This is a book I firmly believe must be discovered on its own, and thus I will explain as little of the plot as possible. Piranesi is written from the titular character’s perspective, a naive but observant man of unclear origins. He resides in a sprawling, otherworldly house that is constantly ravaged by waves. His only companions are another human named “the Other,” and a strange collection of skeletons that he has given different names.

Its unorthodox narration may strike a first-time reader as confusing. Piranesi capitalizes various mundane words for reasons that are unclear, and you’ll be wracking your brain trying to navigate his roundabout descriptions of the setting. There is, at first, little discernable plot beyond Piranesi’s fairly mundane journal entries. But I encourage all readers to continue forth—as the story slowly unravels itself, so too does the character of Piranesi.

Through Piranesi’s weird and wonderful story, Clarke offers a deeply insightful exploration into trauma—one that I did not anticipate, but welcomed with grateful arms. It examines the post-traumatic re-adjustment to life, and seeing beauty in the world despite everything that’s happened. It is strange; it is moving; and Piranesi’s hope is infectious.

Bekah Bahn-Crownover

Her Body and Other Parties: Stories 

The following quotes open Carmen Maria Machado’s collection:

“My body is a haunted house that I am lost in. There are no doors but there are knives and a hundred windows.” This excerpt, taken from Jaqui Germain’s poem “Bipolar is Bored and Renames Itself,” is followed by words from Elisebeth Hewer: “God should have made girls lethal when he made monsters of men.”

These epigraphs will haunt you as you dive into Machado’s unsettling and powerful exploration of women’s bodies and their experiences in her short-story collection, Her Body and Other Parties: Stories. I read this collection for a creative writing workshop last semester, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Through eight electrifying stories in a gorgeous blend of genre, Machado maps the startling realities of women and the various violences enacted upon their bodies. One of my favorite stories, “The Husband Stitch,” uses familiar fairy tales that are commonly told to young girls, often as warnings, and recontextualizes them to showcase how female bodies are being continually policed. This short story also delves into the experience of a female character—a girl in love turned wife and mother—who gives endlessly in a world that seems to mercilessly take. Another story, titled “Real Women Have Bodies,” makes you question what it means to be a woman, and what it means to be recognized or seen in a world of unachievable expectations.

I laughed. I cried. I raged. It’s a beautiful collection of stories that needed to be told.

Melissa Paulsen

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Before James Cameron commandeered the term “Avatar” with his movies about blue people, the original pop culture term “Avatar” stemmed from the hit Nickelodeon TV series Avatar: The Last Airbender which aired from 2005 to 2008. Created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, Avatar: The Last Airbender is a story of war, the bonds of friendship, and what it means to find peace in a conflict-filled world.

Protagonist Aang is a young boy and the “Avatar,” a.k.a. the chosen one to master all four elements and bring peace to the war-ravaged world. He’s also the only surviving member of the Air Nomads—monks and nuns killed in a genocide at the hands of the Fire Nation as part of a plot for world domination. This is technically a kid’s show by the way. But that’s where the brilliance of Avatar: The Last Airbender is found. While it would be easy for DiMartino and Konietzko to pull their punches and depict the Fire Nation as a one-dimensional villain, they make the show appealing to all ages through well-developed characters, masterful world building, and a thoughtful portrayal of mature themes like oppression, patriotism, and grief.

While Avatar: The Last Airbender had a chokehold on my childhood (I thought I was a fire bender until I scared myself by accidentally igniting an EXPO marker), its popularity has grown immensely in recent years through its sequel series The Legend of Korra, and the live-action adaptation on Netflix (we’re not talking about the M. Night Shyamalan film). Dark Horse Comics also publishes a series of Avatar and Legend of Korra graphic novels, and there’s a Chronicles of the Avatar series published by Amulet Books where my fellow nerds–ahem–fans of the series can dig deeper into Avatar lore.

Hannah Majid

The Intouchables

Recently, I watched The Intouchables, a wholesome French film—I’m a sucker for heartfelt cinema like this. It’s a bit like the movie Me Before You, minus the romance and with a much happier ending.

The movie centers around Driss, a young man who feels like a side character in his own life. Unmotivated and dejected, he seeks job rejections to qualify for benefits. During one of these failed interviews, he meets Philipe, a wealthy man who uses a wheelchair. Intrigued by Driss’ indifference, Philipe hires him as his carer, and an unexpected friendship blossoms.

Their relationship evolves from mutual distrust to one of respect; I would even go as far as calling it a brotherhood. Their dynamic was the film’s heart, as they infuse each other’s life with purpose and push themselves out of their comfort zone. It’s a heartwarming reminder that the most unexpected people can enter our lives and make such a remarkable difference.

The humor was perfectly balanced with some heavier themes, with Omar Sy as Driss being the standout performance. Though there is an American remake of this, nothing can capture the humour and spirit of this film (and we all know how American remakes are!)

Dominic Loise

Elsbeth

My wife and I came to Elsbeth in its second season. After enjoying an episode, our evenings were soon filled with cozy crime solving, binge-watching joy to escape the everyday. The show follows attorney Elsbeth Tascioni (Carrie Preston) as she works with the Department of Justice to oversee the New York Police Department’s monitoring of the NYPD after some controversy arrests. But, is that the only reason she’s keeping an eye on the police station? 

If the character name of Elsbeth Tascioni is familiar, it’s because Preston played her in The Good Wife and The Good Fight. Those two previous shows were legal procedurals, but Elsbeth is a twist on the police procedural. Like the classic Columbo, this show is an inverted detective story, where the audience sees the guest of the week committing the murder at the beginning of the show and the remainder of the episode is the “howcatchem.” And just like Peter Falk in Columbo, the fun with Elsbeth is watching Preston know something isn’t quite right, then pick at the loose threads of evidence and slowly unravel the perpetrator. 

Carrie Preston plays Elsbeth as someone who cares, listens, and gives people the benefit of the doubt. Elsbeth learned to trust her gut about people. She likes that this position with the DOJ allows her to do positive work as a lawyer. She uses it to help others she encounters, lift up those around her, and create the best working environment possible at the police station. Even though solving murders doesn’t fall into her job description, it is by observing that Elsbeth notices the little details viewers enjoy until “just one more thing” helps the whole mystery come together to make her case.