Animation
Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End
An elf mage contemplates on connection and regret as she watches her human friends grow old and pass away.
Six friends, newly graduated from college, were partying on a sandy beach in Miami in 2000 when Daniela, an aspiring filmmaker, pulled out her camera. She focused the lens on each of them and asked where they imagined they’d be in 20 years.
When the camera zoomed on Alejandro, he seemed flummoxed. “I guess I don’t care much right now,” the new graduate said. “I only hope we’ll be together.”
Alejandro died that night. But maybe part of his wish came true. After all, 20 years later, his surviving friends are still together—bound by blackmail.
See, those five survivors know how Alejandro died. They’ve kept it a secret for all those years. But now, someone is threatening to tell the world all about what happened—unless each of them ponies up $1 million to keep the blackmailer quiet.
Could the blackmailer be one of them?
None of these friends are exactly where they thought they’d be when asked about it two decades before. Marcos had planned to go to medical school and work for Doctors Without Borders. Well, he became a doctor, sure enough—a plastic surgeon, making piles of money as he tweaks the faces of Miami’s rich and famous. Sofia was going to be a human rights activist. Instead she works the streets, washing up when she can in bathroom taverns and cheap hotels.
Pedro was adrift back after college. Now he’s hoping to become Miami’s next mayor. He’s married to Ana, Alejandro’s old girlfriend—who instead of being a politician herself now ships her three kids off to school each morning. Daniela never snagged her Oscar, either. She’s made a living through … other means.
Nope, the only character who seems to be right where she planned to be all those years ago is Det. Flora, the cop who investigated Alejandro’s death back in 2000. She’s still a police officer, and she’s never forgotten the case. So when another dead body turns up in 2020, Flora realizes this might be her chance to catch a killer, both new and old.
Apple TV+ has had quite a run. Its comedy Ted Lasso has collected more awards than Elon Musk has dollar bills. Its film CODA took home a Best Picture Oscar—the first movie from a streaming service ever to do so.
Might Now & Then, a slick bilingual drama featuring two Oscar nominees, follow suit?
Doubtful.
This whodunit is intriguing, but in more of a salacious, guilty pleasure sort of way. At times, it feels a little like CW’s Pretty Little Liars—only the characters are quite a bit older and the show’s a whole lot less self-aware.
Oh, and it’s significantly bloodier and tawdrier and more profane, too.
Murder forms Now & Then’s reason for being. And while Flora doesn’t particularly like looking at dead bodies, the camera seems to relish it. We see bloodied, sometimes mangled corpses. The living are often injured, too.
Characters hook up frequently, both in the past and the present, and the camera follows them right into the bed (or the car or the beach or wherever the intimacy might be taking place). Sexual movements and plenty of skin are seen on screen. Characters drink, sometimes heavily; they also swear, sometimes frequently. The f-word is the most common curse, but our ears are subjected to plenty more.
With this bilingual thriller, Apple TV+ edges a bit away from its high-fallutin’ awards-heavy lineup and gives viewers something a bit different: A watchable, objectionable and somewhat predictable thriller. Our advice when it comes to Now & Then? Run & hide.
In 2000, six friends celebrated their college graduation with a party on the beach. Only five survived that night. Now, 20 years later, a blackmailer demands the survivors all show up for their college reunion. Once they’re there, the blackmailer demands (by text) $1 million from each of them.
Two couples have sex. We see sexual movements (and quite a bit of skin, though no explicit nudity) and hear sexual sounds. Characters remove their clothes and skinny dip. (We see a few bare backsides.) Men and women frolic on the beach shirtless and in swimwear, as well, and characters kiss.
Characters are covered in blood following a fatal car accident. We later see one of those corpses on an autopsy table, where some of his wounds are analyzed. Another person is murdered: We see her dead body on the floor, her throat obviously and messily slit. Two people seem to fight in the ocean. Someone lies unconscious on a beach.
In 2000, our six college students drink heavily, and we see someone season beer bottles with a drug. (We later learn it was Ecstasy.) All were significantly impaired (one is captured on a camcorder, bragging about how “wasted” she is), and someone admits to the police later that they were drunk that night. In 2020, a scene takes place in a seedy bar. Someone vomits. Several lies are told. A child wets his bed, necessitating a change of sheets.
Characters say the f-word at least 13 times (most of them in Spanish, but translated in the subtitles). We also hear (or read) two s-words and a number of other profanities, including “h—,” “a–” and “g-dd–n.”
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
An elf mage contemplates on connection and regret as she watches her human friends grow old and pass away.
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