Guilty Pleasures 2025: THR’s Guide to the Stuff We Can’t Quit

The sixth entry in the silly Rube Goldberg-esque murder franchise was arguably the best in the series and one of the year’s funniest stealth comedies, with its over-the-top sequences killing off an earnest cast of Gen Z characters. The set piece with an MRI machine was a franchise all-timer. — James Hibberd

Argue with the wall: Season three of The Summer I Turned Pretty was genre-defining. For those two-plus months of waiting for the weekly episode of Belly’s will-they-won’t-they romance with Conrad (or, for others, wedding planning with Jeremiah), writer-showrunner Jenny Han reminded us of the addictiveness of the love triangle — and the power of female fanfare. Even if you weren’t tuned in to the romantic shenanigans of Lola Tung and the Cousins gang, you likely saw a viral tweet or TikTok debating who should end up with whom (and why). Such was the popularity of Amazon’s Han adaptation that the TSITP crew swiftly confirmed a movie sequel shortly after the final episode dropped, prompting sighs of relief around the globe. Conrad fancam editors, we’ll see you in 2026. — Lily Ford

It’s one of Australia’s biggest podcasts for a reason, and that’s mostly because Melbourne writers Zara McDonald and Michelle Andrews know their Shameless audience so well. The women are working their way up to becoming icons of the pop culture pod scene by pulling in a whopping 10 percent of the country’s podcast wealth, per the Australian Financial Review. But how? The Shameless media empire is a safe space for those of us who like to unwind by listening to two eloquent Aussies discuss Timothée Chalamet’s controversial Marty Supreme press run, the enduring likability of Robert Irwin or charting Lily Allen’s tumultuous relationship with David Harbour. That’s not to say they shy away from trickier conversations, such as celebrity Scientologists or the emergence of Lyme disease in Hollywood, but it’s all impressively balanced with lightness. And I truly believe the world needs a recap of the Jonas Brothers’ Christmas movie right now. — Lily Ford

Theme parks and experiential entertainment get no love from Hollywood traditionalists, and 2025 was the year that convinced me this needs to change. 

Earlier this year I traveled to Orlando for the grand opening of Epic Universe, the new theme park from NBCUniversal, and it was while riding a roller coaster themed like a minecart from Donkey Kong that it really hit home: Doing stuff in the real world is fun, and it brings a smile and excitement that is totally different than enjoying a great movie or relaxing with a moody TV show.

Walt Disney himself understood it. It’s why he created Disneyland in the first place, but so many others, from actors and directors to veteran executives (who should really know better!) think this stuff is just for kids. Everyone, of all ages, wants to experience entertainment in the real world. It’s why the Sphere in Las Vegas is taking off with The Wizard of Oz, and why Disney and Universal (and even Netflix!) are pouring cash into real-world experiences for adults and families alike.

Movies are captivating, TV is an everyday activity, but going somewhere with other people and experiencing something IRL is special; it’s a shame it still feels like a guilty pleasure. Here’s hoping 2026 changes that. — Alex Weprin

The seasons are too long (37 episodes!). It’s frequently dull. The conversations between the Islanders are brain-dead and inane. And this season, producers kept yanking people off the show due to fans unearthing their old toxic social media posts (hey producers: If you don’t find these posts before the show, that’s on you; let participants finish filming and they can deal with the consequences after). But Love Island USA is, somehow, ridiculously watchable. After several seasons of trying to make the format classier for American audiences, the series has now devolved to be just as horny and tasteless as the British original, and it’s now breaking Peacock ratings records. — James Hibberd

A series about four geeky scientists and the women in their lives, with Leonard Hofstadter and Kaley Cuoco as his babe neighbor Penny chief among them, has long been my go-to secret TV viewing. There’s surprising comfort in Jim Parsons as the obnoxious roommate and uber physicist Sheldon Cooper being only three knocks away. I know the humor and episodic storylines are repetitive. Howard Wolowitz going to space — seriously? And I know nothing, nor care about quantum physics. But I can’t help myself. When my brain is mush and I need a laugh, not to mention innocent joy in an increasingly uncertain world, I happily hold my nose and dive into these lowbrow cultural waters. Truth be told, Penny, with her sharp wit and withering stares, reminds me of my long-suffering wife. And Big Bang Theory doesn’t so much mock scientists as geek culture, and especially people going to Star Trek conventions and comic book stores. All the while, Penny, Amy and Bernadette indulge their Mensa-fied partners, which never happens in real life, nor should. Don’t think I can take more than 12 seasons, but have loved the memories. — Etan Vlessing

If you’re a bookish kid from the 2000s or 2010s, you may know a thing or two about the Nancy Drew computer games. Launched by HeR Interactive at a time when there were few options aimed at girl gamers beyond Barbie, the titles bring Carolyn Keene’s strawberry-blonde girl detective to life with puzzles, tasks, interviews and cozy themes. I hadn’t really played one since I was maybe 10 years old — until this year. What began as a quest to finally finish the shockingly difficult and, for me as an elementary school kid, semi-traumatic Treasure in the Royal Tower (2001) became a full-blown obsession to finish the entire 34-game series as an adult. That’s in part because these rated-E-for-everyone, 10-and-up games can be hard (thankfully, HeR Interactive has a fantastic forum and hints/spoilers abound on the Internet).

They’re wonderfully atmospheric, with titles taking place at, for instance, a haunted Arizona ranch, an Irish castle with a banshee problem and a Prohibition-era cabin that was once a gangster’s hideaway. And a nostalgic fan culture has taken root, with streamers playing the games on Twitch and players producing podcasts, Instagram pages and memes. I did not have “play a children’s game for hours on end” on my 2025 bingo card, but the pleasures of a vibe-y, low-stakes investigation, at least for this reporter, are hard to resist. — Katie Kilkenny

I get a lot of random stuff in my inbox. This year, if anyone mentioned alcohol in the subject line, I’d open it. Interpret that however you like. But lo and behold, in doing so, I discovered an intriguing new strain of Hollywood PR: The celebrity cocktail kit. It started with a box to promote the new Taylor Swift album, The Life of a Showgirl, which contained all the ingredients you need to make a Showgirl: a glittery orange concoction garnished with a dehydrated orange slice that goes down sweet n’ easy but packs a wallop.

A few months later, I got Patrick Schwarzenegger’s kit for an Aprés Noir — billed as “a sophisticated twist on the Espresso Martini with a touch of seasonal spice and winter citrus.” (Schwarzenegger is Ketel One’s “spirit advisor.”) And you know what? That White Lotus kid makes a mean espresso martini!

The Aprés Noir kit can still be purchased here — or just pick up the ingredients at your local liquor store. — Seth Abramovitch

Here are the recipes:

The Showgirl

1 oz Lemon Juice
1 oz Mango Liqueur
0.5 oz Limoncello
0.5 oz part orange aperitivo (Aperol or similar)
0.5 oz part Shimmer Simple Syrup
Shake over ice and strain into chilled martini glass.

Top with…
2 oz Sparkling Wine
Garnish: Dried citrus slice.

Aprés Noir

1.5 oz Ketel One Oranje Vodka
1 oz Mr. Black Coffee Liqueur
0.5 oz Winter Spice Syrup (or a similar homemade spiced simple syrup)
2 oz Cold Brew
Shake with ice. Strain into chilled martini glass.
Garnish: Cinnamon stick and an orange peel twist

I’m a late convert to the soapy emergency-call procedural 9-1-1, which has been chugging along for nine seasons and spawned two spinoffs. Angela Bassett and Connie Britton reeled me in, and while Connie didn’t stick around, Angie stayed on as LAPD patrol sergeant Athena Grant, swaggering onto crime scenes like John Wayne sauntering into a saloon. The chief focus is busy fire station 118, though this being a Ryan Murphy series, the first responders rarely tackle anything as banal as a stranded cat or a stovetop mishap. But if there’s a gay couple with a tapeworm to dislodge, a bitey shark flapping around on the freeway, a tsunami, a bee-nado or a baby flushed down a toilet and bawling from a pipe in the neighbor’s wall, this is the crew Angelenos gonna call. Some emergencies veer so far into Final Destination freak-accident territory that the show’s preposterousness feels like self-satire. — David Rooney

I’m no gamer and, not long ago, had merely a fleeting awareness of the Minecraft property. But I do love comedic performers embracing their talents in a big, raucous adventure, which is why I paid to see A Minecraft Movie three times in theaters. I also loved this year’s Anaconda, meaning Jack Black starred in two of my favorite 2025 titles. I’m a big advocate for comedy movies getting splashy theatrical releases as they once did and hope that the genre gains more momentum with next year’s Jumanji 3. (And yes, I did shed tears during a particularly emotional moment in Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle. But who didn’t?) — Ryan Gajewski