Project Geekology

Send us a textA stitched body, a sharpened mind, and a creator who won’t claim what he made. We dive into Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein on Netflix with fresh eyes and full hearts, exploring how the film restores Mary Shelley’s original genius while reshaping a century of monster-movie expectations. From the icebound framing device to the creature’s own testimony, the story gives the “monster” his voice back—and with it, a moral authority that turns the tables on Victor.We talk about the texture of creation: the unsettling, hyper-real gore that makes every cut feel consequential, and the cinematography tricks that make key encounters float with eerie grace. Oscar Isaac’s Victor is magnetic and cold, driven by ambition he can’t control, while Jacob Elordi’s creature evolves from bewildered newborn to eloquent judge, his slender, powerful frame reading as reassembled personhood instead of prop. Mia Goth’s Elizabeth cuts through the gloom with presence that grounds the stakes. We also trace Del Toro’s love of cinema history, from the inclusion of an Igor archetype to the blend of gothic realism that separates his style from the baroque and the camp.The heart of the episode is the ethics: What do we owe what we create? If the creature is functionally immortal, does denying him a companion become the cruelest act? We follow the thread of generational harm—from Victor’s father to Victor himself—and the way indifference breeds monstrosity more reliably than lightning ever could. It’s not a perfect film; the pacing stretches in places. But the ideas, performances, and design make this a rare adaptation that feels both faithful and new.If you love smart horror, literary roots, and craft on screen, hit play. Then share your take, subscribe for more deep dives, and drop us a review so others can find the show.Twitter handles:Project Geekology: https://twitter.com/pgeekologyAnthony's Twitter: https://twitter.com/odysseyswowDakota's Twitter: https://twitter.com/geekritique_dakInstagram:https://instagram.com/projectgeekology?igshid=1v0sits7ipq9yYouTube:https://www.youtube.com/@projectgeekologyGeekritique (Dakota):https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBwciIqOoHwIx_uXtYTSEbASupport the show

Send us a textA bully becomes a king, a genius breaks his own rules, and a timeline slips on a banana peel. We dive headfirst into Back to the Future Part II with a debate that starts in neon-soaked 2015 and lands right back in the grease and gears of 1955. We trade laughs over hoverboards, self-lacing Nikes, and that unforgettable manure gag, then get serious about the film’s true engine: the sports almanac heist and the branching consequences that follow. Along the way, we question Doc Brown’s selective ethics, cheer Thomas F. Wilson’s shape-shifting turn as Biff and Griff, and talk through why Elizabeth Shue’s Jennifer recast feels big even as the script sidelines her.Between the sponsor cold open and our Epic Universe field report, we explore how futurism in the film plays more like retro Tomorrowland than prophecy, yet still charms through texture and tone. The 1955 set-piece wins us over with razor-sharp timing and playful parallel editing that dovetails with Part I without collapsing it. We call out the cascade of Part III breadcrumbs—Mad Dog nods, Old West daydreams, the “chicken” trigger—while weighing whether it’s elegant foreshadowing or a flashing neon arrow. And yes, we spot baby Elijah Wood, laugh at inconspicuous outfits that aren’t, and rank the series’ best running jokes.If you love movie craft that balances stakes with wit, performances that stretch across ages and realities, and franchise storytelling that dares to fold back on itself, this conversation’s for you. Hit play, then tell us: did Part II nail 2015, or does its heart belong to 1955? Subscribe, share with a fellow time traveler, and leave a five-star review so we can keep the timeline humming.Twitter handles:Project Geekology: https://twitter.com/pgeekologyAnthony's Twitter: https://twitter.com/odysseyswowDakota's Twitter: https://twitter.com/geekritique_dakInstagram:https://instagram.com/projectgeekology?igshid=1v0sits7ipq9yYouTube:https://www.youtube.com/@projectgeekologyGeekritique (Dakota):https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBwciIqOoHwIx_uXtYTSEbASupport the show

Send us a textThe fourth trip to Hogwarts should feel bigger, bolder, and a little bit dangerous... and that’s exactly where our conversation goes. We crack open Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire to ask why the book’s expansive scope soars while the movie’s world-building sometimes skims. Think missing Quidditch World Cup spectacle, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it introduction to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and a Yule Ball that reveals more about teenage insecurity than the film gives it time to process. When the story grows up, not every scene survives the squeeze.We dig into character choices that define the adaptation. Brendan Gleeson’s Mad‑Eye Moody is a masterclass in look and presence, but the Barty Crouch Jr. twist sharpens every “helpful” gesture into manipulation on rewatch. Dumbledore’s famously calm question turns confrontational on screen, shifting the headmaster’s essence in ways later films quietly undo. Ron’s jealousy lands as one note, while Neville finally gets time to shine, especially when the Cruciatus demonstration brushes against the truth of his parents. The Pensieve earns its place as a narrative hinge, even if the movie drops key threads like Rita Skeeter’s Animagus reveal.And then there’s the graveyard. Ralph Fiennes’s Voldemort is operatic and chilling, a rebirth that reframes everything that came before. “Kill the spare” isn’t just a shock; it’s the moment the series announces that choices have a cost. We weigh the thrills of the expanded dragon chase against lost texture, debate the fairness of the lake task, and consider how a longer-form remake could restore the connective tissue that made the book sing.If you love sharp, story-first film talk equal parts heart and critique, then hit play. Then tell us: did Goblet of Fire nail the coming‑of‑age turn, or does the magic feel thinner on screen? Subscribe, share with a friend who still argues about houses, and leave a five-star review to keep the conversation going.Twitter handles:Project Geekology: https://twitter.com/pgeekologyAnthony's Twitter: https://twitter.com/odysseyswowDakota's Twitter: https://twitter.com/geekritique_dakInstagram:https://instagram.com/projectgeekology?igshid=1v0sits7ipq9yYouTube:https://www.youtube.com/@projectgeekologyGeekritique (Dakota):https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBwciIqOoHwIx_uXtYTSEbAALLISON MACK: From Smallville to Cult Scandal & Taking Accountability for It Todayhttps://youtu.be/ajZ1V-VnLNI?si=5EEQhE_TITZ_nJ4-Support the show

Send us a textGreat Scott! Some movies don’t just age well, they keep gaining power like a clock tower in a storm. We unpack why Back to the Future still crackles: a script that pays off every setup, characters who change in ways you can feel, and time travel rules that invite geeky debate without derailing the fun. From the Save the Clock Tower flyer to Uncle Joey’s “bars” and the Twin Pines to Lone Pine switch, we map the film’s breadcrumbs and show how tight writing creates timeless rewatch value.We get obsessive about the timeline, too. Marty’s trip to 1955 unfolds over a week we can actually chart, and the story’s paradoxes: bootstrap loops, butterfly ripples, the photo fade, work together instead of fighting each other. We also talk texture: why the DeLorean is the perfect sci‑fi icon, how Biff’s blundering menace gives the story bite, and why those Hill Valley sets feel alive in both eras.Then there’s the alchemy of performance and music. Michael J. Fox plays panic as propulsion. Christopher Lloyd turns technobabble into wonder. Crispin Glover’s physical comedy makes George’s punch land like a symphony. And Alan Silvestri’s score glues it all together, blasting heroism during the lightning strike and winking when history pivots. It’s the rare blockbuster that mixes teen comedy, family drama, and sci‑fi puzzle with confidence, reminding us how bold 80s filmmaking could be without franchise safety nets.If you love film craft, time travel logic, or just want that rush of cinematic joy, you’re in the right feed. Hit play, share with a fellow movie nerd, and tell us: are you Team Twin Pines or Team Lone Pine? If this made you smile, subscribe, leave a review, and pass it to a friend who needs a 1.21 gigawatt boost.Twitter handles:Project Geekology: https://twitter.com/pgeekologyAnthony's Twitter: https://twitter.com/odysseyswowDakota's Twitter: https://twitter.com/geekritique_dakInstagram:https://instagram.com/projectgeekology?igshid=1v0sits7ipq9yYouTube:https://www.youtube.com/@projectgeekologyGeekritique (Dakota):https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBwciIqOoHwIx_uXtYTSEbASupport the show

Send us a textA gaming detour. A bold new audiobook format. And then a plunge into the oceanic heart of Avatar: The Way of Water that even a skeptical co-host didn’t expect to love. We start with Oblivion’s sprawling quest design and the surprising charm of getting lost without markers, then pivot to Audible’s full-cast Harry Potter experiment—layered narration, ambient sound, and voices that feel like theater without sacrificing storytelling. That production craft becomes our springboard to Pandora, where performance capture turns pixels into people and water into memory.Once we hit the reefs, we get personal. We talk about what makes this sequel feel richer: a family on the run, new biomes that force growth, and a community whose bodies and culture have evolved for the sea. Quaritch’s return as a recombinant lands like wicked irony—becoming what he hates to destroy it—and Kiri’s mystery hums in the background, a soulful knot tied by Sigourney Weaver’s uncanny performance. We dig into Spider’s controversial choices, Neytiri’s razor-edged grief, and the moral weight of the tulkun: a people with philosophy and song, set against human whaling that extracts Amrita with chilling efficiency. The effect isn’t just visual spectacle; it’s worldbuilding with ethics, family, and cost.We don’t shy away from the hard hits. Neteyam’s death, the suffocating tension aboard a sinking ship, and that scream of loss—all of it reminds us why this story lingers after the credits. We also peek at canon comics like The High Ground, how they frame the one-year gap, and why the film’s more grounded path was the right call. Whether you’re here for the tech, the tulkun, or the tangled loyalties, this conversation surfaces the reasons The Way of Water converts skeptics and rewards rewatchers.If this ride stirred something, follow the show, share with a friend who loves Pandora, and drop a five-star review so others can find us. Then tell us: did Spider make the right call?Twitter handles:Project Geekology: https://twitter.com/pgeekologyAnthony's Twitter: https://twitter.com/odysseyswowDakota's Twitter: https://twitter.com/geekritique_dakInstagram:https://instagram.com/projectgeekology?igshid=1v0sits7ipq9yYouTube:https://www.youtube.com/@projectgeekologyGeekritique (Dakota):https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBwciIqOoHwIx_uXtYTSEbAAlien (1979) Explained | Timeline, Canon, and Lore: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9nmyTTlMvoSupport the show