Aparita Bhandari

Drive My Car is a beautiful and mellow ride, although you’ll need to stretch your legs after it ends.

It’s hard to describe Nickel Boys. It seems like an injustice to call it, simply, a film. It’s a remarkable piece of art, even more impressive when you consider that it’s photographer and filmmaker RaMell Ross’s debut feature film – in fiction.

The film forms a kind of origin story, giving voice to the often silent experiences of a particular immigrant community in the 80s. Lachlan Milne’s cinematography veers from prosaic to evocative to breathtaking, depending on the scene.

I’m fascinated by these women who cover dangerous ground – treading centuries of patriarchy and caste prejudice with measure and grace.

There is a mesmerizing quality to the movie.

Visually exhilarating as it may be, it’s worthwhile to remember that RRR is inspired by true events. It’s a work of historical fiction that’s just as inventive as its thrilling special effects.

In order to move forward, it’s imperative we look at the past. Black Ice is a worthwhile ice-breaker to that end.

For anyone wondering why women don’t come forward to report sexual assault, Black Box Diaries offers a glimpse into the many indignities women can face when reporting the crime, and the amount of personal resolve needed to follow through.

The pace moves from the hustle-bustle of daily business carried out over five decades to moments of stillness from the artform – the flick of a fan and a hand moving in gentle waves, for example. The actors bring the drama to life, without being overly dramatic.

Russia’s stark landscape makes for breathtaking and sometimes comical scenes. This is a trip well worth taking.

It’s glorious in some parts, stretches out your willingness to suspend disbelief in others. Nevertheless, a movie that leaves you with a Missy Elliott style grrrl power anthem as an earworm is totally worth a lazy summer afternoon sprawled in front of your TV – as you make mental notes to sign up your kids for musical theatre classes the minute you’re allowed.

Rosaline ultimately sparkles in this cheeky telling of the greatest love story never told.

Girls State is a powerful documentary that showcases just how invested and determined young women are in their desire to run for the highest office – despite the challenges they face.

Encanto ends up being overwrought rather than enchanting.

A quiet study of its characters, Ali & Ava is a fresh take on otherwise well-worn rom-com narratives.

Any excuse to tune out the real world and escape into a fantasy land is welcome – especially through a film that’s about trust and the loving bond between family and friends, and also manages to deliver a couple of solid laughs in between.

[Kendrick] delivers a taut thriller that’s also a sharp critique of the casual misogyny women face.

Oddly enough, the movie is both sumptuous and somewhat soulless.

Like many of its Pixar predecessors, Hoppers manages to thread the needle between a charming story for a young audience and a considered take on the climate crisis that will also resonate for their adult caregivers.

Disney and Pixar’s latest outing delivers on some frontiers, but puzzles on others.

Aloners manages to delicately infuse what otherwise seems like a slice-of-life drama with shots of mystery that keep us invested in Yu Jin’s otherwise humdrum life.

There is much to appreciate about Definition, Please, including its indie aesthetic. It’s a welcome addition in redefining the diasporic experience.

Using Toba Tek Singh as a recurring narrative device is sublime, for those who understand the reference and the burden it carries.

As you get immersed in the story, you’re also entranced by a lovely escape to a nostalgic Italian summer that’s inspired by visits to real-life places and rendered in a style akin to that distinctive Miyazaki aesthetic. I also want to get my hands on the original score – the music soars gorgeously.

While it may depict events of the past, its relevance to the present couldn’t be more striking.

As the central characters, Helms and Harrison play their parts with empathy.

It’s not entirely fair to call I Swear a PSA for inclusion. Above all, it is the story of a man who overcame an extraordinary set of odds to build a simple but meaningful life for himself and foster understanding in others. Yet, you cannot help but hope that the film – and the events surrounding it – inspires us all to think about the messiness of life. And how making space for everyone might involve a degree of discomfort for us all. But we can all, ultimately, live with it.

Filmed in Nova Scotia and featuring both English and Mi’kmaw, Wildhood beautifully captures the beauty of the landscape and its community as well as moments of humour, even as it treads some bleak spaces.