Ricky Church reviews the second episode of Hazbin Hotel season 2… The momentum continues in Hazbin Hotel’s second episode of the season, ‘Storyteller’, which showcases the most captivating and headbanging song of the series thus far. This doesn't detract from the storyline and character development present in this episode focused on Heaven, where Sir Pentious copes with the starkly different environment compared to Hell. ‘Storyteller’ serves as a great companion to ‘New Pentious’. While Charlie battles with her survivor’s guilt and attempts to redefine herself from a warmongering angel killer to a being focused on redemption, Heaven is abuzz with the notion that redemption might be attainable, alongside fears of a potential retaliation from sinners due to the numerous Exterminations Heaven secretly authorized. The powerful themes explored in this episode are substantial and engaging, allowing the overall narrative of the season to progress in intriguing directions for what’s ahead. Redemption is undoubtedly central to these themes as Pentious’ arrival is met with skepticism by most in Heaven, while Emily and a few other angels express excitement about the possibilities. Sir Pentious becomes the show’s first character to receive a flashback, revealing his life on Earth as a reclusive and socially awkward scientist who witnessed Jack the Ripper commit his first murder without reporting it to the authorities. This flashback adds depth to Sir Pentious’ character and motivations from the previous season, hinting at why he is the first sinner to be redeemed and welcomed into Heaven. It is also poignant that Pentious can only think about his friends in Hell and yearns to reunite with them. A notable background moment occurs during the song ‘Like You’, where Pentious is seen destroying various items that he later incorporates into his ill-fated device intended to return him to Hell. Alex Brightman and Shoba Narayan shine as Pentious and Emily, with her vibrant positivity—akin to Charlie’s—serving to uplift him. A significant aspect of the episode is the deeper exploration of how Heaven functions, with its overt brightness and positivity clashing with the conflicting politics of its council. Amid their feelings of betrayal regarding the Exterminations and fears of Hell’s resurgence, the introduction of Adam’s song Abel—voiced by Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump—highlights his new position as the leader of the Exorcists over Lute, suggesting that Heaven may be facing more internal strife than it has in a long time. It’s compelling to witness Sera grappling with her own inner conflict and guilt after permitting the Exterminations, viewing it as a regrettable necessity for Heaven’s security. Her acceptance of redemption and acknowledgment of the souls lost adds depth to this stoic character, and her solo, ‘Sera’s Confession’, performed by Patina Miller and Liz Callaway, serves as a powerful ballad reflecting her journey. Yet, the standout moment in ‘Storyteller’ belongs to Jessica Vosk in Lute’s emotionally charged rock ballad ‘Gravity’. This track could be the best in the series, highlighted by its powerful lyrics and stunning animation, with Lute's choreography and striking visuals captivating the audience. Scenes such as her imaginary Adam passing through her knife or her walking up a wall evoke the image of an angry caged bird, making ‘Gravity’ a memorable scene. Vosk’s vocals convey Lute's rage and sorrow exceptionally well, engendering sympathy for her. Although redemption is a focal point, it’s clear that Lute will harbor no regret for her actions and will persist in eliminating every sinner she encounters. ‘Storyteller’ is an outstanding episode filled with remarkable character moments, thematic depth, and impressive songs. ‘Gravity’ is compelling enough to be enjoyed outside of Hazbin Hotel, showcasing its rock and emo influences. With these two episodes, this season of Hazbin is proving to be unmissable. Rating: 9/10 Ricky Church – Follow me on Bluesky for more movie news and nerd discussions.

      The Threesome, 2025.

      Directed by Chad Hartigan.

      Featuring Zoey Deutch, Jonah Hauer-King, Ruby Cruz, Jaboukie Young-White, Josh Segarra, Robert Longstreet, Arden Myrin, Kristin Slaysman, Allan McLeod, Julia Sweeney, and Tommy Do.

      SYNOPSIS:

      A young man's long-standing crush leads him to an unexpected threesome, which he perceives as his ultimate fantasy fulfilled. However, once the fantasy fades, all three individuals must confront sobering real-world consequences and take ownership of their actions.

      There are two ways to approach a film where a kind-hearted man unexpectedly finds himself as a father-to-be with two different women, a scenario partly arising from a three-way encounter: treating it as a straightforward romantic drama or leaning into the absurdities of the situation for a romantic comedy. Titled The Threesome, it is a classic instance of a director uncertain about the direction to take, hoping to blend both tones successfully. However, for director Chad Hartigan and screenwriter Ethan Ogilby, this fusion does not succeed.

      At first, it appears the filmmakers might successfully navigate the premise. The narrative takes its time developing its characters and their relationships, desires, and connections. Connor Blake (a miscast Jonah Hauer-King, who is given a bland approach to the material, but more on that later) effectively conveys why partners are beneficial to one another, as illustrated in the opening when he delivers a speech for his best friend and gay newlywed Greg (Jaboukie Young-White). Yet, Connor's love life remains aimless.

      Connor continues to yearn for his long-time crush Olivia Capitano (Zoey Deutch, who gives an impressive performance in what turns out to be the most intricate role), who seems disinterested in him. Or perhaps she has feelings for him but recognizes that their visions for the future might not align. Additionally, she is caught in a push-pull attraction to the bad boy Kevin (Josh Segarra), from whom she is trying hard to part ways.

      Olivia navigates these mixed emotions by interrupting a conversation between Connor and Jenny Brooks (Ruby Cruz), who has been stood up at the bar where she and Greg work (following her best friend's advice to engage with new people). As she observes how easily Connor talks to a stranger of the opposite sex and makes a friend, she begins to realize she may be taking his kindness for granted. Consequently, Olivia acts as a wingwoman for Connor. Ultimately, the three end up together and have offscreen sex (even a film titled The Threesome maintains a somewhat sanitized format in this modern, sexless era of mainstream American cinema), which triggers a series of new dynamics among these characters that rapidly evolve into something far more serious and life-altering.

      Following that night, Connor and Olivia begin to investigate the possibility of a serious relationship, which intensifies when, after another sexual encounter, Connor accidentally gets her pregnant. Although shy, inexperienced, and raised in a Christian environment, Jenny does not regret her sexual exploration, never truly believing that Connor would want to date her again (despite his ghosting feeling unsettling, revealing a lot about the grim realities of modern dating). It is later revealed that their morning shower sex while Olivia was away also led to a pregnancy.

      Over the three trimesters, Connor strives to support both Olivia and Jenny amid changing and evolving relationship dynamics. Olivia grapples with the decision of whether to keep the baby, particularly after discovering the morning rendezvous behind her back, which she finds hurtful even though they weren't officially dating. She still loves him and struggles with societal perceptions should she accept back a man who is also planning to be involved with another child from a different sexual partner. Meanwhile, Jenny's religious upbringing plays a role; while she doesn't adhere strictly to her faith, she worries about her parents' opinions regarding her status as a single mother, faking a real relationship with Connor in front of them until she feels it's appropriate to reveal that their connection was more casual and that they aren't romantically involved.

      This narrative presents intriguing and relatively fresh dramatic elements (captured with striking cinematography by Sing Howe Yam, who at one point showcases a conversation between two characters, reflecting one in a mirror) that is consistently undermined by moments that veer into situational humor or a predictably messy twist that complicates rather than enriches the storyline.

      Connor himself mirrors this complexity, being annoyingly prone to inappropriate jokes—not out of malice, but as a defense mechanism. At times, this characteristic reflects the filmmakers' uncertainty about how to handle these characters and the material, merely hinting at societal issues. There is also a third-act scenario begging for comedic treatment, seemingly set up that way before abruptly returning to subpar drama. Even attempts to flesh out the religious elements of Jenny’s family appear lackluster