‘Love Island USA,' Looney Tunes, and more weekend streaming picks
Daffy Duck and Porky Pig in 'The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie.'
Warner Bros. Animation
'The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie'
It's still an absolute travesty that Warner Bros. Discovery
Available on Max
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Shazad Latif as Captain Nemo in "Nautilus."
Vince Valitutti/Disney+
'Nautilus'
If you've already binge-watched the
Available Sunday on AMC+
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Binge-worthy weekend TV picks
From left: Andreina Santos, Bryan Arenales, Michelle "Chelley" Bissainthe, Chris Seeley, and Iris Kendall.
Peacock/Ben Symons/Peacock
'Love Island USA'
Need a bingeable, guilty pleasure? Take a trip over to 'Love Island USA,' streaming on Peacock (the first three seasons are also available on Hulu). A spinoff of the hit British reality series, the American version also involves ready-to-mingle singles who must couple up at Casa Amor for a chance at love and also money. The current season also features Boston 'bombshell' Bryan Arenales, who
Seasons 1-3 available on Hulu; seasons 4-7 available on Peacock
'Star Trek: Strange New Worlds'
Ahead of season 3's debut next month, beam up and binge watch the first two seasons of 'Star Trek: Strange New Worlds' on Paramount+. If you're iffy on Trek shows, 'Strange New Worlds' may just change your mind, with its sleek reimagining of the Enterprise ship and its crew, along with its refreshingly bright and entertaining story lines. The acclaimed series stars Anson Mount ('Hell on Wheels') as the perfectly coiffed Captain Pike, with Ethan Peck ('10 Things I Hate About You') as the stoic Spock, the Vulcan first made famous by late Boston native Leonard Nimoy.
Available on Paramount+
Movie night pick
From left: Olivia Cooke and Thomas Mann in "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl."
Anne Marie Fox/20th Century Fox
'Me and Earl and the Dying Girl'
Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon's coming-of-age tale 'Me and Earl and the Dying Girl' celebrates its 10th anniversary this year. Streaming this month on Hulu, the heartbreaking drama follows the budding friendship between Greg (Thomas Mann) and Earl (RJ Cyler), teenage boys who become pals with Rachel (Olivia Cooke), a classmate dying of cancer. It's a sweet and, ultimately, sad story that explores how relationships and connections, no matter how brief, can change lives.
Available on Hulu
Matt Juul is the assistant digital editor for the Living Arts team at the Boston Globe, with over a decade of experience covering arts and entertainment.
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Buzz Feed
44 minutes ago
- Buzz Feed
Fans React To Dejon's Love Island Sleepover Scene
In one of the most recent episodes, four of the islanders were given the opportunity to have a "sleepover" with four new bombshells, giving them all a chance to have a night alone with their new prospects. One of the islanders picked for the sleepover was Dejon, who spent time with Bombshell Caprice. Despite initially being coupled up with Meg, he had a rather flirtatious night with Caprice. At one point, he even hand-fed her grapes. What do you think? Let me know in the comments. And remember, you can watch all of Love Island UK on Hulu now!


Time Magazine
an hour ago
- Time Magazine
What Love Island Can Teach Us About the Importance of the Word 'Like'
For connoisseurs of dating reality TV, the arrival of warm weather means one thing: Love Island, by far one of Britain's most significant cultural imports, is back. (There are offshoots, including Australia and the United States, but the UK version remains the blueprint.) The premise is simple: a group of attractive, tanned young people flock to a 'villa' somewhere very warm (usually Spain or South Africa) and attempt to couple up for love—and money and social media fame. At its heart, the show is a game, with the fate of each couple inevitably falling into the hands of the public, who make the final call on which couples make it to the end. Committing to an entire season requires stamina and dedication for both viewers and participants. But should you embark on this journey, your perseverance will be greatly rewarded. Admittedly, one of the deeper pleasures of the show is that it is quite often a little bit boring. But if you stay the course and watch each episode, what unfurls is a remarkable record of how people try (and fail) to make connections, almost in real time. These connections are extremely important because money and fame (and yes, sometimes love) are on the line, and are also formed on a very tight timeline. This means that the couples are either extremely sure of their love or not really sure at all. And because these moppets are horny, prone to drama, and above all, young, a word they say so much, all the time, is 'like.' Read More: Love Island USA Made Me Believe In Love Again Nothing about this is particularly surprising. 'Like' is a word that is largely associated with the youth and a word that many people write off as useless—a verbal gristle meant to be trimmed from the meat of your speech, in service of hewing to an outdated standard of what sounds 'right.' It's silly, really—being concerned with something as trivial as this when there are far more pressing horrors in the world. Perhaps it's also a tremendous waste of time. But paying close attention to when we hear 'like' is a useful exercise. Listen and you'll reach a thrilling conclusion: 'like' is a valuable tool that we all have (and should be using) to make and maintain connection. 'Like' is often deployed to ease the burden of communication and to give a little grace to yourself to figure out what you're really trying to say. In emotionally charged situations where matters of the heart are concerned, 'like' gives you the space to collect your thoughts. This is a minute calculation that's so small as to feel imperceptible and likely happens without much thought at all. If you watch Love Island with the captions on, this point becomes remarkably clear—each 'like' that peppers a side chat between two people is there to bolster teensy attempts at vulnerability. Consider the aftermath of a devastating recoupling, where some already-established couples are ripped from each other's sides and paired with someone new. After the tears dry, the new lovebirds are faced with the onerous task of getting to know each other. And these conversations come in fits and starts, and the space between thoughts is usually linked with 'like.' It's a word that literally buys you time—just a second or two— in a way that's much more pleasing than the alternative, dead air. 'Like' shows that you care in a way that silence could never. You're giving yourself a minute to collect your thoughts while alerting the other person that you're doing so, all without saying very much at all. You're also giving the other person the grace to do the same. There's a gendered reason why we don't like to say this word. The old chestnut about 'like' is that it's the Valley girls' fault that we say it in the first place, which has negative connotations because they're thought to be 'dumb teenage girls.' But this is an antiquated line of thought. Teenage girls and women are actually linguistic innovators and have influenced the way most people have spoken for generations. Millennials who were old enough to see Clueless in theaters are now gracefully sliding into middle age. They have climbed the corporate ladder enough to have achieved nominal positions of power. They grew up slinging 'like' around, so one assumes it is part of their speech, both at home and in the workplace. If your boss says, 'Can you send me that thing I asked about like, sometime next week?' and nothing sounds amiss, that's worth noting. 'Like' isn't improper or unprofessional; it's just a manner of speaking that sounds a little different than the past. What naysayers of 'like' are truly upset about, on some level, is women, and specifically, that the way they naturally speak is inferior and should be treated as such. We know that this is not the case. But women's speech has traditionally been coded as weak and men's as strong, as linguistics professor Robin Lakoff noted in her landmark book Language and Women's Place. The inference here is that women's speech is coded as weak and men's, the direct opposite. But if we start to think about the word as an asset rather than a liability, then its potential really starts to show. When we revisit the lovelorn singles of Love Island's villa, we can see quite clearly that both the men and the women dabble in 'soft' language about their feelings, not only with members of the opposite sex, but with each other, too. And yes, Love Island is purportedly a show about love, but it is really about all types of connection—of love, sure, but what they really end up with is friendship. And 'like' allows them to forge the connections that lead to it, one chat at a time. It's a lesson that we could all learn, in ways large and small—that the English language's flexibility is so intrinsically intertwined with how we connect. In fact, if we all stop fearing 'like,' we might be surprised at what happens.


WIRED
an hour ago
- WIRED
The Obsessive Fans Playing God on 'Love Island'—and Living for the Crash Outs
Jun 27, 2025 7:00 AM Doxing contestants. Conspiracies. Fan communities. Vote consulting. As 'Love Island USA' gives viewers control over the show's storylines, some are getting too invested in the resulting chaos. Still from Love Island. Photograph:Carson Campbell didn't feel any remorse for his vote, and was even relishing in the chaos it might cause one of Love Island USA 's most contentious cast members of the season. 'I love mess and I love reality TV,' the 24-year-old student and content creator says. 'I love something with an end goal, when people are working toward a purpose.' As a Love Island USA superfan who live-tweets and recaps every episode on TikTok, Campbell feels personally invested in how the reality dating show unfolds. Most reality programs are pre-recorded, but Love Island USA, an American spinoff of a British dating show by the same name that follows contestants at a luxury villa with the goal of finding love, is filmed in real time and airs six nights weeks (on Peacock) over a six-week period in the summer. Its format relies on votes from viewers, via the Love Island app, to help determine how the show progresses (you vote on favorite cast members, who pairs off on dates, and more). That interactive component gave viewers the power to split up two contestants—Huda Mustafa and Jeremiah Brown—who coupled together in the first episode but had become too toxic for their own good by episode 13. Mustafa was controlling and territorial; in one episode she eavesdropped on Brown during a private conversation with other male contestants, calling him a 'bitch' and a 'pussy.' Brown was portrayed as a textbook love bomber; during a group challenge he confessed to telling 10 women he loved them. When the time came to decide on their relationship, 'we all agreed,' Campbell tells me from his home in Queens, New York. He often consults with his friends when a vote takes place. 'America came together as a democracy and said we need them apart no matter who we have to throw in there as collateral. In the grand scheme of things, it's not fair. But it was the right thing to do. Watching at home, we can see when something is going to crash and burn.' The split sent Mustafa into a rage and her 'crash out' went viral across social media. 'Peak cinema,' Campbell calls it. While a lot of fans appeared to be fed up with Mustafa, prior to the shake-up, some worried about her well-being— 'I thought Huda crashout would be funny, y'all I was wrong,' @daesbloodline posted on X. Fans have even tracked down Noah Sheline, her ex-boyfriend and father of her four-year-daughter, to express their disapproval for Mustafa. 'You got one hell of an easy full custody battle ahead of you brother,' one person commented on his TikTok feed. Sheline released a statement on TikTok calling the fan obsession 'unhealthy.' 'Her going on that show to find love, or whatever you think it was she's doing, remember she's still human, she has a daughter, and a life,' he wrote. ' I don't like that I'm seeing so much negative shit on my page or even clips of it about her.' Although Mustafa was villainized for her erratic behavior on the show, 'crashing out'—a Gen Z term for a meltdown—is not uncommon on the show. And it's a response that seems almost unavoidable on a social experiment where participants are not only surrounded by each other day and night and forced to watch their love interests hook up with other people, but are also subjected to the audience's often ruthless opinions of them. 'I don't know whether it's America hates me, or America knows something I don't,' Mustafa says in a confessional following her fan-induced breakup with Jeremiah. The answer to that may be a little bit of both. One thing is for sure: with 1.2 billion minutes viewed in its first two weeks—the second highest for a streaming program on television—America is watching. Closely. Because Love Island 's fans help influence major storylines, outcomes, and eliminations, they essentially become backseat producers. But that power can also facilitate an unhealthy amount of investment, says Colman Feighan, 26, a former reality TV producer who is based in LA. 'Involvement from the fans makes a lot of people feel like they can control every single outcome. And they—very much like Huda—feel out of control when it doesn't necessarily go exactly as they want, or if it does, then they want more to go in their way,' he says. 'Very much like the crash outs we've seen with her, people are having their own crash outs as well.' For some fans of reality TV, who treat the genre like an escapist fantasy, their deep investment comes from 'getting to play god on top of it,' says Alo Johnston, a licensed therapist at Pershing Square Therapy. 'If you as an audience member are using the show to escape a real world that feels uncontrollable and overwhelming then you might feel extra invested in controlling this one small thing.' Following Brown's elimination from the show, fans demanded his return and have since created a petition that has over 72,000 signatures. But it can also be about more than control—our reactions often have to do with how we deal with personal traumas. 'When you start to see the way the way people talk about reality show cast members, where some people say, 'Oh I didn't think what he did was that bad,' and others are saying 'I think he's the devil incarnate,' you're seeing that they are actually reacting to their ex and not the actual person on screen,' Johnston says. 'A crash out could be because you are thrown back into processing your own grief or trauma.' Mustafa's ex Sheline isn't the only one who became collateral damage in viewers' displeasure over how the show has played out. It is a common theme among devoted watchers this season—especially in superfan communities on X, like Huda HQ and Ace Mob, and across TikTok—where online discourse has reached new levels of intensity. In some cases, viewers are influencing casting decisions at the very outset of the show—and doing deep background checks to reveal anything they consider problematic about contestants. Before the premiere, fans alleged that two contestants—Austin Shepard and Yulissa Escobar—support MAGA and promised to vote them off right away. A video of Escobar using the n-word in a podcast interview surfaced online, TMZ reported, and she was dropped from the show in the second episode. (Shepard has lasted.) Fans have alleged that multiple other cast members support Trump and the Republican party and spun up a conspiracy theory that contestants Ace Greene and Chelley Bissainthe had a relationship before the show; Bissainthe's friends have said they followed each other before the show but never dated. 'I find it strange when people suddenly try to expose someone just because they've gained popularity,' Feighan says. 'If the person has committed a crime or engaged in abusive behavior—even if it's not publicly documented—then calling that out is fair. But if the issue is simply a difference in opinions that upsets some viewers, the appropriate response is to stop supporting them and unfollow, not to incite a public takedown as not everyone is going to share the same beliefs.' The negative backlash this season—which has resulted in some contestants getting death threats—is so widespread that Peacock aired a warning during its June 24 episode. 'The keyword in Love Island is … LOVE. We love our fans. We love our Islanders. We don't love cyberbullying, harassment or hate,' it read. On X, the show posted a reminder to viewers to 'be kind' and, in an episode of the weekly recap show Aftersun, host Ariana Maddox urged fans to stop acting so reckless. 'Don't be contacting people's families. Don't be doxing people. Don't be going on islanders' pages and saying rude things,' she said. In 2018, former Love Island UK contestant, Sophie Gradon died by suicide after appearing on the show. That same year, production mandated cast members to attend a post-finale evaluation with a mental health professional, according to Vanity Fair, and cast members now have the option to attend up to eight counseling sessions. In 2019, contestant Mike Thalassitis also died by suicide; that same year show's former host, Caroline Flack posted on Instagram about being 'in a really weird place'. Flack took her life in 2020. 'If the relationships on Love Island make us believe the performance of love leads to the real deal,' Anna Peele wrote in Vanity Fair , 'the losses—it feels shameful to say—seem to authenticate the depth of human experience.' But it's not all on the fans. Producers are incentivized to edit shows around trending conversations, which raises the stakes for viewers, according to Feighan. 'They have the ability to reach numbers like that because whatever is trending online they are able to see that and then put out teasers that show whatever is currently trending on platforms like TikTok,' he says. 'It's catering to the people that are tuning in and talking about it on a daily basis. Whereas you don't have so much flexibility with other dating shows that are all pre-recorded.' Reality TV is formatted to be addictive, says Jennifer Gillian, a professor of media studies at Bentley University. 'Add to that the surprising ethical norming that occurs when viewers begin to ask themselves, 'What would I do in this situation? What do I think others would agree is the right thing to do?' But 'that's where the line gets blurred—people are treating it almost like a competition talent show when in reality it's a love show,' Feighan says. 'Online culture in general—with the keyboard warriors and trolls—is so quick to give input on how they would do something, and it's very easy to say so when you hide behind a screen, but at the end of the day these are real people on a TV show.' Though this season has courted its fair share of controversy, conversation across social media is still mostly jokes and memes, especially TikTok supercuts of the villa's unofficial 'Mean Girls' crew—Greene, Vansteenberghe, and Taylor Williams. 'Imagine you come out the villa … get your phone, think you gon see thirst trap edits of you on tik tok and instead Morgan Freeman calling you a RAT,' @ascenario_ said of another video, which called out Vansteenberghe for being two-faced. For Campbell, the crashing out, the fan communities, and emotional intensity viewers bring to the show is what makes it must see TV. It's how reality TV—on and off screen—works. 'With this show specifically, I don't have a problem with anybody loving who they love and who they're going hard for,' Campbell says. 'My issue is who you like in the show tells me more about you. If your group is called Huda HQ—which is a very corny name—it tells me that you are mostly unstable. The problem is not necessarily about being a part of the larger fan base, because that's normal now.'