Reviews landed and Zach Cregger's Resident Evil is actually good. Ninety minutes, half of it funny, throwing out the game plot to chase the feeling of playing one. I sat through all twenty-four years of bad ones. Take my word for it. Opens tomorrow.

Six mazes open on the Queen Mary tomorrow night, and the new one is called Shipwrecked: Brace for Impact. On a ship. That has been floating in Long Beach since 1967. Fifty-one dollars to find out how literal they got.

George Lucas spent a billion dollars building something in Exposition Park. It opens to the public September 22 — forty thousand works of art, a lifetime of collecting. That building you've been driving past for years has a door now.

Wolverine reviews are in. Seventy-seven on Metacritic — Sony's lowest-scoring PS5 exclusive since Concord. It is not bad. It is not Spider-Man. It is fifteen hours of claws in a straight line, and that is either enough or it isn't.

THE APOTHECARY DIARIES AUTHOR HAS ANOTHER MANGA AND IT IS GETTING AN ANIME. It is about a girl at a school that trains future gods who is certain she is the worst one there. Five years of chapters exist. No air date. I will be insufferable about this.

The Oasis documentary is in theaters and it has the one thing nobody thought would exist: Liam and Noel in the same room, talking about each other like it still hurts. Fifteen years of not speaking. I don't know what to call it but it isn't over.

Every Friday night in Escondido the same guys back the same cars into the same spots and pretend they don't already know where everyone parks. Grand Avenue shuts down and becomes a museum that smells like exhaust and nostalgia. Bring someone who doesn't care about cars yet.

Here is how you spot a real taco festival: the tortilla press never stops. Fresh masa hitting the comal faster than the line can eat it. Pechanga does this right, fifth year running. Tequila tasting included. Your Uber home is already in the budget.