Legendary Hong Kong action director John Woo has returned to his classic 1989 assassin's tale and adapted it into something strikingly different. Game of Thrones' Nathalie Emmanuel stars as Zee, a veteran contract killer in Paris who runs afoul of her handlers when she refuses to kill a young blind woman. Lupin's Omar Sy co-stars as a Paris cop who serves as an unlikely ally for Zee when she becomes a target of the city's underground. Friday, Aug. 23, Peacock.

by Clara Bingham

"It's a common stereotype about second-wave feminism: all anger and no joy," said Anna Holmes in The New York Times. Yet Clara Bingham's 559-page oral history of a key decade in the movement turns out to be "rollicking good fun" as well as evidence that the era itself was "downright exhilarating." Bingham interviewed such key surviving leaders as Gloria Steinem, mixed in archival recollections from deceased luminaries such as Betty Friedan, and has also added the voices of flight attendants and other lesser-known but lively movement allies. Bingham  peppers her pages with ads and other contemporaneous cultural nuggets that underscore what women were up against, and how much they achieved between the publication of Friedan's The Feminine Mystique in 1963 and Roe v. Wade, the 1973 Supreme Court ruling that legalized abortion nationwide.

Because it's powered by so many disparate voices, Bingham's book is "a richer, more accurate encapsulation of the movement than most prior histories," said Sara Bhatia in Washington Monthly. Far from a monolithic force, the women's movement was actually "an amalgam of dozens of distinct factions with varied demographics, beliefs, and goals." Bingham "gamely wades into the messy brew of personal attacks, factionalism, and intra-movement politics," capturing both the racial and generational differences that made the movement so famously quarrelsome. She delivers rich accounts of such familiar events as the founding of Ms. magazine and Billie Jean King's "Battle of the Sexes" tennis showdown with an older male provocateur. And while she joyously resurrects such forgotten triumphs as the Boston Marathon in which 23-year-old Bobbi Gibb broke the ban on women by running incognito, she also brings out how many women were spurred into activism by personal traumas, including dangerous illegal abortions.

"As with any hugely valuable, yet also problematic, historical movement, the history of second-wave feminism is still being fully understood to this day," said Veronica Esposito in The Guardian. Even so, "many of the battles of the second wave are no longer as antiquated as they may have seemed just a few years ago." Until a year before Roe, single women in America had no right to obtain birth control. Today, following Roe's overturning, restraints on women's reproductive freedom increase month by month. And Kamala Harris' presidential campaign makes Bingham's account of Shirley Chisholm's brave, quixotic 1972 White House bid that much more valuable. Feminism's waves, it seems, "build upon one another in complicated ways." Reminding us of that is "precisely why books such as The Movement are necessary."

The dapper golfer who danced on the course

Chi Chi Rodriguez brought dazzle to the staid world of golf. With a powerful swing surprising for his slight frame, the Puerto Rican player won eight tournaments over 25 years on the PGA Tour. Though at 5 foot 7 and 135 pounds, he was no match for the most elite players in athleticism, he bested them in popularity. Playing in a brimmed straw hat, he joked around with fans and sang and danced on the greens. Some competitors called him a distracting showboat, complaining that his hat — which he would toss over the hole and dance around after sinking a birdie — damaged the terrain. So he switched to a kind of matador dance instead, brandishing his putter as a faux sword. "Why not give the fans something extra?" he said. "With no fans, there is no golf. I like to see people happy and laughing."

Born in Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico, Juan Antonio  Rodriguez Jr. was one of six children of a sugarcane laborer. The family was so poor that he  developed rickets from malnutrition and didn't own a toothbrush until he was a teenager. As a child, he worked in the cane fields before getting a job as a caddy at a country club. There, he studied the game and practiced on his own, "hitting tin cans with a club constructed out of a guava tree stick," said Sports Illustrated. After two years in the Army, he returned to Puerto Rico to work at a golf resort. One of the owners, Laurance Rockefeller, backed him to turn pro in 1960, helping Rodriguez become the first Puerto Rican to make the PGA Tour, said The Washington Post. By the time he won his first tournament in 1963, he "was already a favorite with fans."

Rodriguez became "one of the most charismatic and beloved figures in pro golf," said Golfweek. He won his last PGA tournament in 1979, then joined the senior tour, clinching 22 titles and earning over $500,000 — a first for a senior golfer. He entered the World Golf Hall of Fame in 1992. An in-demand speaker at banquets and meetings, he often joked about his impoverished childhood, but he also gave back to other poor children, establishing the Chi Chi Rodriguez Youth Foundation in Florida to help disadvantaged youth. "I love kids because I was never a kid," he said. "I was too poor to be a kid."