WKGC Public Media

WKGC Public Media

Broadcasting from the campus of Gulf Coast State College in Panama City, we are the Emerald Coast’s local public radio station. Our mixed format lineup of shows provides listeners with national, local, and student-produced cultural programming, news, and a variety of music to enrich your day. Our on-air personalities engage listeners by igniting curiosity, enriching minds, and cultivating relationships within the Emerald Coast Community through our high-quality, thought-provoking content. 90.7 WKGC Public Media--education, entertainment, and everything in between.

  1. 2d ago

    ReelTalk 11/02/2026 Remembering Sir Patrick Stewart with Gino Sassani

    There are actors we admire. There are characters we love. And every so often, there is a performance so definitive that actor and character become nearly inseparable in the cultural imagination. For generations of Star Trek fans, Sir Patrick Stewart was Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Of course, Stewart’s extraordinary career extended far beyond the bridge of the Enterprise. He gave us Professor Charles Xavier, brought terrifying menace to Green Room, demonstrated impeccable comic timing on Frasier, and delivered what I consider the definitive portrayal of Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. But Picard was something different. Patrick Stewart took what could have been simply another television captain and created one of the great leaders in popular culture: thoughtful without being indecisive, authoritative without being authoritarian, principled without being self-righteous, and intellectually curious without ever losing his humanity. Picard did not lead because he was the strongest person in the room. He led because he understood the responsibility of command. He listened. He questioned. He defended the rights of people who could not defend themselves. He respected expertise. He admitted uncertainty. And when necessary, he stood alone against admirals, governments, alien civilizations—even members of his own institution—because he believed principle mattered. For me, and for millions of others, Jean-Luc Picard was more than a favorite fictional captain. He was an example. There is a temptation when an actor becomes inseparable from an iconic character to forget that the two are not the same person. Patrick Stewart was not Jean-Luc Picard. And yet, through his voice, his intellect, his training, his discipline, and his humanity, he gave Picard something that transcended performance. He made us believe this man could lead the Enterprise. More importantly, he made us believe humanity might someday deserve someone like Jean-Luc Picard to lead it. Picard taught us that strength does not require cruelty. That intelligence does not require arrogance. That diplomacy is not weakness. That principles mean very little if we abandon them when they become inconvenient. That it is possible to make no mistakes and still lose. That the first freedom denied diminishes everyone. And that the time we have—right now—is precious. Sir Patrick Stewart leaves behind Shakespeare, Scrooge, Professor Xavier, unforgettable villains, comedy, stage work, film, television, and a career that stretched across generations. But for many of us, somewhere out among the stars, he will always be our captain. Joining me today is returning guest, friend of the show, and fellow Trekkie Gino Sassani.

  2. Oct 26

    10/26/2026 reviewing WILDWOOD with Jen Wead

    There are animated movies—and then there are movies that remind us animation is an art form. Wildwood is one of those movies. Laika’s latest stop-motion fantasy is enormous in scale, intricate in design, and at times almost overwhelming in its craftsmanship. It is a movie where you can practically feel the hands of the artists in every frame. And in that respect, Wildwood belongs to a much older tradition. Long before digital creatures dominated movie screens, Ray Harryhausen was bringing mythological monsters to life one frame at a time—the Cyclops in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, the giant bronze Talos and unforgettable skeleton army in Jason and the Argonauts, and Medusa in Clash of the Titans. His creatures moved with a slightly uncanny rhythm, but that was precisely what gave them presence. They were tangible. They occupied space. They had personality. That same soul lives inside Wildwood. The animation is mesmerizing, frequently beautiful, occasionally terrifying, and astonishing in its scale and scope. Yet for all that technical achievement, I still found myself thinking about another Laika film: Kubo and the Two Strings. Because while Wildwood may be the greater technical achievement, I’m not convinced it tells the greater story. Joining me today is longtime friend Jennifer Wead, a fan of high fantasy films and someone whose graduate work in linguistics gives her a particularly interesting perspective on language, culture, and how imaginary worlds communicate meaning. Animation is sometimes described as though it were a genre. It is not. It is a method of filmmaking—and Wildwood reminds us just how limitless that method can be. Nearly a century after Willis O’Brien made audiences believe in King Kong, and decades after Ray Harryhausen brought skeletons, Cyclopes, giants, and mythological creatures to life one painstaking frame at a time, Laika continues that tradition by pushing stop-motion into territory that once seemed impossible. Wildwood may not, for me, surpass Kubo and the Two Strings as Laika’s finest piece of storytelling. But as an achievement of animation? It is extraordinary. The movie is beautiful, frightening, tactile, enormous, and unmistakably handmade. And perhaps that is ultimately what connects Laika to Harryhausen. Technology changes. Scale changes. Techniques evolve. But the magic still begins with an artist moving something ever so slightly—and then doing it again. And again. And again. Until somehow, impossibly, it comes alive.

  3. Oct 18

    ReelTalk 10/19/2026 reviewing STREET FIGHTER (2026) with Sean Boelman

    Some movies divide audiences because of politics. Others divide audiences because of style. And then there are movies like Street Fighter, which seem to divide audiences based on one deceptively simple question: What did you come to see? For longtime fans of the games, the new Street Fighter delivers many of the recognizable pleasures one might expect: familiar characters, costumes that echo the games, signature moves, a 1990s setting, and plenty of references aimed squarely at players who grew up with the franchise. For me, however, those ingredients never developed into a dramatically satisfying movie. I found it clunky, exhausting, and strangely incoherent—a film with all the right fighters but not enough reason for them to be fighting. The characters are there. The moves are there. The nostalgia is there. The story, however, often feels like an afterthought. Street Fighter may be one of those movies where the most interesting discussion begins after the credits. For some viewers, seeing these characters recreated faithfully—the costumes, the moves, the personalities, the nostalgia—is enough to make the experience work. For others, myself included, those elements are only pieces of a motion picture. They still need a story to connect them. And maybe that is why the response has been so polarized. We are not necessarily disagreeing about what is on the screen. We may be disagreeing about what matters most once it gets there. That is also why conversations like this are more valuable than declaring that someone is or is not a “real fan.” Fandom is not a test. You can love a game and dislike its movie, love the movie and barely know the game, and you can sit across from a friend, disagree almost completely, and still have a much better conversation because of it. And that makes today’s conversation particularly interesting, because my returning guest landed more positively on the movie than I did. Joining the show once again is film critic Sean Boelman.

  4. Oct 11

    10/12/2026 ReelTalk reviewing OTHER MOMMY with Brad Biewer

    Choose anOTHER movie. Every now and then, a horror movie introduces an idea so intriguing that you immediately begin imagining all the directions the filmmakers could take it. Other Mommy has one of those ideas. Based on Josh Malerman’s Incidents Around the House, the story follows Bela, a young girl who develops a relationship with a sinister presence inside her home—an entity that looks uncannily like her own mother. Jessica Chastain plays both Bela’s mother and the mysterious Other Mommy, while Rob Savage directs. And beneath the horror mechanics is a genuinely provocative idea concerning motherhood—one I won’t explain in detail because doing so would venture into spoiler territory. Unfortunately, intriguing ideas alone do not make a successful motion picture. What frustrated me about Other Mommy is that neither a compelling narrative nor meaningful characters emerge from the movie’s disjointed collection of scenes. The imagery is unsettling. The camera is active. The effects are elaborate. Jessica Chastain is committed. But the screenplay often feels more like an outline than a fully developed story. Other Mommy contains a genuinely unsettling idea. It has a committed Jessica Chastain, striking imagery, elaborate visual effects, and a director clearly interested in creating something visually memorable. But movies are not simply collections of images, concepts, or intentions. They require dramatic architecture. Characters must matter. Scenes must build. Conflict must evolve. And the ideas beneath the surface need enough narrative structure to rise above it. In retrospect, Other Mommy does reveal that there was something meaningful buried beneath all the visual chaos. Unfortunately, it never develops the story necessary to bring that idea fully to life. Joining ReelTalk to talk about Other Mommy is Brad Biewer, host of The Cinema Speak Podcast.

  5. Oct 6

    ReelTalk 10/05/2026 reviewing DIGGER with Sean Boelman

    Satire is a difficult balancing act. It can exaggerate. It can provoke. It can make audiences uncomfortable. But if it wants to say something meaningful about politics, culture, religion, corporate power, or social division, it still has to understand the people and ideas it is satirizing. That is where Digger lost me. The film takes aim at corporate greed, willful ignorance, religion, and the politics surrounding energy production. Those are all worthy subjects for serious—and even outrageous—dramatic treatment. But rather than opening the door to constructive conversation, the screenplay too often reduces those ideas into caricature. What could have been a bonkers, daring, wildly entertaining movie instead becomes clunky, lumbering, and relentlessly heavy-handed. And yet, there are things here worth discussing. The cast is strong. The production design is often mesmerizing. There are worthwhile ideas buried beneath all the noise. Digger contains the ingredients of a fascinating movie. There is a striking visual world, a committed cast, and a group of subjects worth exploring—corporate power, energy, belief, ignorance, and the difficulty of living together when everyone thinks the other side has lost its mind. But satire needs more than targets. It needs dramatic precision, characters rather than positions, and enough space for audiences to think rather than simply be shouted at. There is a wild, funny, provocative movie buried somewhere inside Digger. Unfortunately, the screenplay never quite digs it out. Joining me once again is friend of the show Sean Boelman, film critic at FandomWire and member of the Critics Choice Association.

  6. Sep 28

    ReelTalk 09/28/2026 reviewing HEART OF THE BEAST with Gino Sassani

    Survival movies usually pose a fairly straightforward question: will the characters make it out alive? But the best examples of the genre understand that physical survival may be only half the battle. Brad Pitt takes audiences deep into the Alaskan wilderness in Heart of the Beast, playing James Belmont, a retired Green Beret traveling with Odin, his former combat dog. After a devastating plane crash strands them in the mountains, James and Odin must rely on their training—and one another—to survive. But what impressed me most is that director David Ayer and screenwriter Cameron Alexander make the wilderness only one source of danger. James and Odin enter those mountains already carrying the psychological wounds of war. The result is a survival picture in which the question is never simply whether these two characters can survive what they encounter in the wilderness. The deeper question is whether they can survive what they brought into it with them. It is exhilarating, emotionally affecting, beautifully photographed, and—perhaps surprisingly for this kind of movie—remarkably restrained. And by the time it concluded, this critic was wiping away a few tears before heading home to hug his own dog. Joining me today is returning guest and friend of the show Gino Sassani, editor-in-chief at UpcomingDiscs.com and a member of both the Critics Association of Central Florida and Southeastern Film Critics Association.

  7. Sep 8

    ReelTalk 08/31/2026 reviewing COYOTE VS ACME with Sean Boelman

    Sometimes a movie arrives with a premise so simple and so ridiculous that it sounds impossible to pull off. Wile E. Coyote, after decades of being crushed, blown up, launched from cliffs, and otherwise betrayed by Acme products, decides he has finally had enough. So he sues them. That is the wonderfully absurd setup of Coyote vs. Acme, a live-action and animated comedy that plays like Who Framed Roger Rabbit crossed with Erin Brockovich—all wrapped around a surprisingly heartfelt David-versus-Goliath. The plotting is solid, the characters possess more complexity than you might expect, and the filmmakers clearly understand and love the Looney Tunes legacy. The movie is packed with visual jokes, Easter eggs, and affectionate nods to these characters, while still finding room for a genuinely warm story about courage, failure, and standing up to people with more money, power, and polish than you. And given the movie’s own history—completed, shelved, and eventually released—that underdog story takes on an almost accidental layer of meaning. The movie itself became something of a Wile E. Coyote, refusing to disappear no matter how many times corporate machinery tried to drop an anvil on it.  Joining me once again is friend of the show Sean Boelman, film critic, member of the Critics Choice Association, and editor at FandomWire.

  8. Aug 24

    ReelTalk 08/24/2026 reviewing INSIDIOUS: OUT OF THE FURTHER w/ Brad Biewer

    For over 15 years, horror audiences have been returning to one particular location: the Further. And today, we are reviewing this most recent return in Insidious: Out of the Further, the sixth installment in the Insidious franchise. This franchise has always understood the importance of atmosphere. The red door, the astral plane, the unsettling creatures, and the performances—particularly Lin Shaye’s portrayal of Elise Rainier—have helped establish a mythology that audiences continue to revisit. But horror, like every other genre, requires more than individual ingredients. A creepy setting can create tension. A frightening image can create a memorable moment. A beloved franchise can bring audiences back to theaters. But ultimately, a motion picture requires something more: characters we care about, conflict that develops naturally, and a screenplay that connects those individual pieces into a cohesive dramatic experience. Insidious: Out of the Further introduces several intriguing ideas: a new protagonist dealing with grief and trauma, a new exploration of the Further, and a fascinating expansion of what that supernatural realm can do. Horror has always been a genre built on imagination. A door. A shadow. A sound from another room. A place we should not enter. Insidious: Out of the Further understands those elements. It understands atmosphere, mythology, and the power of unsettling imagery. But ultimately, even the most frightening ideas need a strong foundation beneath them. Because the difference between a collection of scary moments and a memorable horror film is not simply what scares us. It is why we care.

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Ratings & Reviews

5
out of 5
2 Ratings

About

Broadcasting from the campus of Gulf Coast State College in Panama City, we are the Emerald Coast’s local public radio station. Our mixed format lineup of shows provides listeners with national, local, and student-produced cultural programming, news, and a variety of music to enrich your day. Our on-air personalities engage listeners by igniting curiosity, enriching minds, and cultivating relationships within the Emerald Coast Community through our high-quality, thought-provoking content. 90.7 WKGC Public Media--education, entertainment, and everything in between.

Information

  • Creator
    WKGC Public Media
  • Years Active
    2025 - 2026
  • Episodes
    100
  • Rating
    Clean
  • Copyright
    © Copyright 2025 All rights reserved.
  • Show Website
    WKGC Public Media