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Yahoo
20-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Netflix just added an intense psychological thriller movie with Sigourney Weaver — and it's already crashed the top 10
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. Even though Netflix releases its lineup for each month, the streaming service occasionally adds movies not originally on the schedule, which can be easy to miss. In this case, 'Copycat' landed on Netflix U.S. on June 15, but thankfully, it didn't go unnoticed because it's already cracked the top 10 list by hopping into the tenth spot. I'm not surprised people jumped on 'Copycat' since it has all the ingredients subscribers often look for: big stars like Sigourney Weaver, Holly Hunter and Dermot Mulroney, and a chilling serial killer story that might just get under your skin. Originally released in 1995, 'Copycat' didn't make a huge splash at the box office, but over time it's become something of a hidden gem among thriller fans. Its psychological tension and strong performances has helped it build a quiet cult following over the years. This psychological thriller follows a criminal psychologist struggling with agoraphobia after a traumatic attack, who teams up with a detective to catch a serial killer replicating the methods of infamous murderers. While plot isn't the most original, the movie still makes for a gripping watch, and one that gets your adrenaline pumping if you choose to see it alone. If you've scrolled through Netflix today and noticed 'Copycat' suddenly appear in the top 10 list, here's everything you need to know before adding it to your watchlist. 'Copycat' follows Dr. Helen Hudson (Sigourney Weaver), a renowned criminal psychologist who becomes a recluse after surviving a traumatic attack by a deranged killer. Now agoraphobic and living in isolation, Helen is reluctantly pulled back into the world of crime-solving when a new serial killer begins targeting victims in San Francisco, each murder eerily mimicking the methods of infamous real-life murderers. Assigned to the case are Detective M.J. Monahan (Holly Hunter) and her partner Reuben Goetz (Dermot Mulroney), who turn to Helen for insight as the killings escalate. Despite her crippling fear of the outside world, Helen uses her expertise to identify the pattern behind the copycat killings. As the investigation intensifies, she and M.J. form an unlikely bond, working together to stay one step ahead of the killer, who seems to be watching Helen more closely than anyone realizes. 'The Silence of the Lambs' wasn't the very first Hollywood movie about serial killers, but its massive critical and box office success sparked a wave of similar movies that dominated the '90s before eventually fading out. One of these copycats is ... well, Jon Amiel's 1995 thriller 'Copycat.' While it might not surpass 'Silence of the Lambs' or even Brad Pitt's 'Seven,' it's still a pretty intense watch and makes for some chilling midnight viewing. It's refreshing to watch a thriller that centers on two smart, strong women, and even better that they're brought to life by Holly Hunter and Sigourney Weaver, two powerhouse actresses of their generation. There's real substance behind both characters, which helps 'Copycat' rise above just being another serial killer movie. 'Copycat' is very much a psychological study, taking time to explore the human side of its characters. Dr. Helen Hudson is dealing with some serious trauma and can't bring herself to leave the house, while Detective M.J. Monahan is driven by a strong commitment to solving the case and stopping the serial killer terrorizing the city. Without this character development, 'Copycat' would feel hollow in the landscape of serial killer thrillers. Director Amiel, known for the unique and highly praised 1986 BBC series 'The Singing Detective,' shows his expertise here by keeping the story tightly focused. The movie hardly ever wanders off track, always pushing the plot forward while keeping the tension just strong enough to stay gripping. Like classic studio movies that carefully balanced what the audience needed to know, this movie reveals just enough information to save you from feeling lost. While 'Copycat' definitely has its strengths, there are a few noticeable flaws. The whole idea of a killer copying famous murderers felt a little predictable at times, and you might find yourself guessing where the story was headed a bit too early. In some ways it shares too many similarities with 'Seven' for this reason. Outside of the two strong leads, most of the supporting cast doesn't get much time to be explored, which makes the world around them feel a little thin. I'm sure Netflix viewers will still enjoy 'Copycat' (and I think it's worthy of your time even with these flaws). Movies have long been drawn to exploring evil, and I think part of that comes from how our own fears tend to fuel our interest. You don't need to take my word for it either, since 'Copycat' has a solid rating of 76% on Rotten Tomatoes, with audiences rating it slightly lower at 64%. The site's critic consensus reads: 'Copycat's outstanding cast helps this often unpleasant thriller transcend the less palatable elements of its standard-issue story.' Minneapolis Star Tribune's Jeff Strickler said: 'Although the plotting of this mystery-thriller about a copycat killer is flawed, Hunter and Weaver drive the show with strong performances.' Meanwhile, Trace Thurman from Horror Queers Podcast shared the same thoughts, stating that 'Weaver and Hunter are at the top of their game, elevating what is essentially a 2-hour episode of a CBS crime procedural into high art.' So if you were going to take anything away from these reviews, it's that 'Copycat' is worth watching for the performances alone. If you haven't already added 'Copycat' to your Netflix watchlist, now's the time. The whole 'killer copying famous murderers' concept isn't exactly new, but this thriller handles it in a surprisingly smart and stylish way. And a big part of why it works so well is, of course, Sigourney Weaver. I already loved her (partly because she stars in my favorite franchise of all time, 'Alien') but she really shines here. I'd argue that 'Copycat' is one of her best roles and a big reason why it's well worth carving out two hours of your time. 'Copycat' is now streaming on Netflix. For more streaming recommendations, see what else is new on Netflix in June 2025. Netflix just got this fantasy action movie with Vin Diesel and Elijah Wood I didn't expect Netflix's new romantic sci-fi movie to be this charming This new on Netflix action-thriller with Gerard Butler soars to No. 1 spot
The Review Geek
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Review Geek
Copycat (1995) Ending Explained – A chilling look at fear, obsession and legacy
Copycat Plot Summary Copycat is a tense psychological thriller revolving around the capture of a sadistic serial killer prowling around LA. The movie centers on Dr. Helen Hudson (Sigourney Weaver), a renowned criminal psychologist and expert on serial killers. Her inspiring and thought provoking talk in the middle of a student lecture hall about serial killers, leads into an unexpected and traumatic attack by deranged killer Daryll Lee Cullum (Harry Connick Jr.) Although Helen survives this encounter, it causes her to become severely agoraphobic and she retreats into isolation. Years later, a series of murders begin in San Francisco, mimicking the methods of infamous serial killers. Detectives M.J. Monahan (Holly Hunter) and Reuben Goetz (Dermot Mulroney) enlist Helen's help to profile the killer – but can they do so before it's too late? Who is the killer? The midway point of the movie unravels the true killer, as Helen works with the police to try and find this man. Her assessment of a 20-35 year old white male rings true, as the murderer is revealed to be Peter Foley (William McNamara). This unassuming man, who lives at home with his wife , is revealed to have a whole basement used as his 'funhouse'. For him, this spree is a twisted art project—a way to gain legacy and recognition by building on the 'work' of murderers past. Who does the killer focus on last? As we build toward the climax of the movie, Foley becomes fixated on Helen, using her computer to send a program that taunts her and even a video to show his latest victim. However, it soon becomes clear that he not only views her as a final target, but also someone who will truly understand what he's doing. Foley's murders are staged with clinical precision, something we see from the various crime scenes across the movie. Each of them echo a notorious killing from history. His obsession escalates to a note left for Helen, whom he eventually kidnaps and attempts to recreate her near-death experience from years prior—symbolically tying up his murderous 'tribute.' How does Foley cover his tracks? While this is going on, M.J. and the police storm Foley's house when they learn of his identity. They arrive too late. Foley's wife is dead, the house is in flames, and any evidence is lost with it, leaving the police reeling. What happens during the showdown? Foley takes Helen to the same university bathroom where she was attacked by Cullum, recreating the moment in horrifying detail. He ties her up with a noose around her neck, tip-toeing on the toilet basin. He intends for her to hang herself as a final symbolic kill in his copycat series. Helen, terrified but composed, uses her knowledge of criminal psychology to stall for time and emotionally manipulate Foley. She laughs, kicks off her other shoes and buys time for Detective Monahan. She races against the clock, following the trail of clues Foley has left behind but winds up part of Foley's sick game. How does Helen confront her fears? Managing to escape when Foley shoots Monahan in the chest, she faces her fears and heads up onto the rooftop. She stumbles across to the edge of the rooftop, calling for help, before turning and facing down this killer. Earlier on, she had to face Cullum at home on the computer, and she struggled to even look at the monitor. She was clearly still suffering from the effects and wanted to try and bury it. However, speaking to Cullum, who taunts her and asks for her panties as a 'souvenir' in exchange for info, seems to help shake something inside her. She's no longer a prisoner to the fear that once defined her. Instead, she turns it into strength. Facing this horrific ordeal again that has haunted her for the past thirteen months has made Helen stronger, and this time she laughs in the face of pure evil. Is Foley stopped? Monahan arrives just in time to stop the murder, shooting Foley first in the shoulder, and then several times in the chest. This is a significant moment and a beautifully foreshadowed one too. Early in the movie, Reuben and M.J. were on a training exercise and Reuben fired wildly, shooting a target multiple times. M.J. though, shot the target once and explained this is enough to incapacitate them. Unfortunately, this arrogance and lack of fear (something Helen also calls Monahan out for in the film) costs Reuben his life. During a skirmish involving Chinatown residents, Reuben is shot by a crazed man who holds him at gunpoint. Although Monahan shot him in the shoulder to drop him to the ground, he still shot Reuben dead. In the ensuing confrontation, she fatally shoots Foley and makes no mistake about her shots. She fires multiple times and eventually shoots him in the head. It's also worth noting too that Monahan is genuinely scared during this encounter, reinforcing that fear can keep you alive. How does Copycat end? Helen is saved, and the nightmare ends—at least for now. The experience forces Helen to confront her deepest fear and take steps, however small, toward reclaiming her autonomy. In the film's final moments, we cut to the prison once more where we see Cullum writing a note to more of his 'disciples'. He turns and looks at the camera, hinting that Foley is just one of many foot soldiers he has at his disposal looking to take up the mantle of serial killings. Fear, obsession, and legacy The movie serves as a chilling portrayal of how easily disenfranchised men—especially white men aged 20–35—can lose their way and become radicalized by ideology in a desperate need to become famous. Copycat doesn't end with comfort—it ends with a warning. The final scenes inside the prison reframe the narrative: this wasn't just one man's descent—it's part of a wider cultural sickness. This moment not only reinforces what Helen said earlier in the lecture hall, it also warns about the pursuit of greatness—and how our culture has become obsessed with death and murderers. It's a theme that feels even more relevant today, 30 years on from the film's release. Foley himself even mentions to Helen that more books have been written about Dahmer than Abraham Lincoln. The movie doesn't offer any easy answers on how to solve this problem, but its final moments certainly give plenty to chew on.
New York Times
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Today's Young People Need to Learn How to Be Punk
'Mr. Mitchell, how do we access the punk?' That's what a student asked at Emerson College in Boston after a recent screening of 'Shortbus,' my 2006 film, which chronicles a real-life bohemian New York City art and sex salon scene that flourished before most of the college-age viewers in the hall were born. When the film was rereleased a few years ago, I sensed that members of this younger, judgier generation loved it but felt: There's got be something to cancel about it! Last year a young woman asked me if the story of an Asian woman, the protagonist of 'Shortbus,' seeking an orgasm was 'my story to tell.' I replied, trying not to sound defensive, 'Through the alchemy of writer and performer, it became our story to tell.' She smiled, but only with her mouth. This year's students felt different: more scared, more open, potentially more radical? They know they need new skills to confront the very real possibility of a post-democratic America. In other words, they need to find their sense of punk. And I was here to help. I self-booked (I used to be a tour de force; now I'm forced to tour) a 14-college speaking tour for this spring semester, armed with my films 'Shortbus' and 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch' and my newer podcast sitcom, 'Cancellation Island,' in which Holly Hunter plays the founder of a rehab for canceled people. It satirizes a form of mob justice that quickly breaks down in the face of the existential threat of Hurricane Taylor — renamed Hurricane Beyoncé, 'in the spirit of impending diversity.' I played excerpts; the professors laughed too loudly while the students appeared politely confused. The tour kicked off after President Trump's second inauguration, and the professors who'd invited me were in a panic. They were risking their jobs to discuss the arrests of student protesters and funding threats, but they also found it difficult to talk about the disunity that's resulted from a well-intentioned culture that has fetishized a progressive purity not found in nature and sought to slice us up into ever more specific identities carefully ranked by historical oppression. As one professor whispered to me, 'We did Trump's work for him: divided ourselves so he could conquer.' After all, you can't cancel an aspiring despot. I found myself looking out at faces still shining with hope and I was touched. Hope comes naturally to the young, but these students felt old. Screens and lockdowns had left them with hummingbird attention spans, spotty memories, an obsession with self-diagnosis and a fondness for slippers in winter. Don't even mention dating or — gasp — sex when the simple act of looking into someone else's eyes provokes anxiety. But what could they do? Give up their phones and the corporate-controlled, like-driven culture, which is all they've ever known? Silent scream emoji! That's when I was reminded of what I learned from 18 years of military upbringing (socialism for rednecks featuring free health care), 45 years of theater and film (authoritarianism for liberals with not much health care) and an introduction to queer activism in the time of AIDS (anarchism for all in an attempt to save lives). I've come to believe that D.I.Y. collective action — specifically, the punk variety — might be our only way through the darkness. I told the students stories. My hero was my father, a closeted bisexual Army major general who, in the 1990s, argued in favor of gays in the military by reminding people that they've always been there. Yes, the military vibe could be depressingly macho, but it's also about having your buddies' backs, no matter their gender, sexuality or race. I spoke about the subject of my new play, Claude Cahun, a French Jewish Surrealist who, with her partner, Marcel Moore, broke into a church at night during the Nazi occupation and put up a banner, reading: 'Jesus is great. But Hitler is greater. Because Jesus died for people — but people die for Hitler.' Voilà, punk! I told them how I learned about punk in a 1990s downtown drag scene that was in no danger of landing brand deals for sponsored content. I recommended the 2012 documentary 'How to Survive a Plague,' which chronicles a particularly queer brand of AIDS activism that negotiated with Big Pharma (You may hate us, but if you save us you could make billions) while also taking to the streets to shame their greed with eye-catching art. (My favorite was 'Enjoy AZT,' which mimicked the Coca-Cola logo to protest the inflated cost of that imperfect but important early drug — and a lack of other, better options.) Protesters slipped a monster-size condom over the home of the monstrous homophobe Senator Jesse Helms and poured the ashes of fallen comrades onto the White House lawn. Now, that was punk. 'Your homework is to stop canceling each other, find out about punk, and get laid while you're at it,' I told them. 'Punk isn't a hairstyle; it's getting your friends together to make useful stories outside approved systems. And it's still happening right now, all over the world.' MAGA has adopted an authoritarian style of punk that disdains what Elon Musk calls our 'greatest human weakness,' empathy. But O.G. punk, while equally free of trigger warnings, is constructive and caring. Above all, it's about community, whether it's pro bono legal work, food banks, neighborhood gardens or, in New Orleans, where I mostly live, second line parades, which everyone is welcome to join. The city maintains strong traditions of storytelling, hospitality and neighborhood engagement. When a hurricane comes, you'd better know your damn neighbor! Well, Hurricane Trump has made landfall, and the president has convinced us that all facts are suspect except the ones he likes. But when all news is fake, all stories are true, and they might be the last tools we have to convince one another of anything at all. So, how can all of us access the punk? Get in the room with other people (more D.I.Y. and I.R.L.). Embrace the analog, which can't be surveilled by artificial intelligence. Reach out to unexpected, even problematic (I prefer 'problemagic'), allies, with different but compatible definitions of justice. Luckily, kindness looks the same to most of us. And as you start making that useful thing, you might lock eyes with the person working at your side, and maybe this time you won't flinch. The walls of identity crumble in the face of our greatest human strength: empathy. As the lights came up after the 'Shortbus' climax, which evoked the beauty of the great northeast blackout of 2003 (we thought we were all going to die, but we didn't), I spied more than one tear-stained face. 'Why are you crying?' I asked. Came the response: 'Because we just watched the youth we never had.' I am rooting for these wonderful kids to find their own punk that, at worst, might make them feel less alone, and at best create real change. After the screening, an Emerson student approached me. What she said gave me the hope I was trying to give her: 'Mr. Mitchell, next time you see me, you're going to be proud.'
