Chase Hutchinson

After pushing up against the confines of a conventional musical biopic, it does end up mostly operating within them, hitting all the notes you’d expect it to hit, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t ring mostly true when it counts.

Throughout all of it, Ebrahimi gives a performance that, even in immense isolation, tells a whole story on its own and leaves a lingering impression long after the film itself comes to a close.

In every piercing stare, you can see Terry’s determination and drive just as you do brief flashes of overwhelming despair at the depravity that surrounds him. It becomes surprisingly emotionally impactful at key moments, all of which Pierre plays perfectly. For all the restraint both actor and character embody, the joy of the film comes in how you see the righteous fury growing inside him. It's just waiting to burst free to set things right in a world gone awry.

It writes what can feel like the equivalent of a hate letter to the movies (or at least the potential for abuse that can come from how they’re made) before eventually coming to his own halting emotional upswing about the enduring power they still hold.

Whether you can stomach it enough to make it all the way will depend on the viewer, but Talk To Me has plenty that promises to capture the souls of horror sickos looking for a sinister spectacle.

There is much that could easily lose some people when they behold elements of its grand design, but for those willing to get on its wavelength, you’re in for a treat as beautiful to look at as it is unexpectedly haunting.

Without going too far into detail, as the sudden swerve it makes is too delightful to dare give away, it takes a plunge into its own distinctly offbeat, frequently absurd, and ultimately melancholic vision.

Glander’s debut has vibes to spare, but he never coasts on them even as Billy coasts around the Florida landscapes. In the end, he delivers a full meal of a film that, like the giant hot dog we see in one shot in the middle, is a mesmerizing work of art worth taking a big bite out of. It will never be to all tastes, but to those who find themselves on its wavelength, it couldn’t be sweeter.

The Woman King is a film that has the confidence to be completely sincere in both the sharp moments of humor and the stunning battle sequences. The way it all grapples with history is subsequently clear-eyed, making some closing statements feel especially resonant. It is a film that ensures there is no denying Prince-Bythewood's dedication as a director and visual artist who can take on any cinematic challenge with ease.

With its strong character work that gets interwoven with a striking story of sabotage, How to Blow Up a Pipeline is a riveting tapestry of the plight facing the modern climate justice movement.

Mars Express finds deeper truths that are as tragic as they are transcendent. This makes it a sci-fi tapestry not just worth getting lost in, but one that is deeply human as well. What a painful joy it is.

It’s not only properly unsettling, making great use of darkness and sound, but also becomes a quietly poetic reflection on loss when you least expect it.

A sporadically interesting though ultimately superficial exploration of online connection, video games, and modern alienation, writer-director Flora Lau’s Luz is a film in search of something greater than it is never quite able to grab hold of.

It isn't swayed by anything other than the truth as it crafts an uncompromising and steadfast deconstruction of whom the artist the world knew as XXXTentacion actually was. Moving beyond the headlines, it emerges as an absolutely essential piece of filmmaking.

OBEX is a lo-fi stunner of a video game movie, merging a deeper understanding of the way games work with playful and creative sequences that also pack a deeply emotional punch.

Both in terms of the way he lays out all the information and the craft of the filmmaking itself, Kohn shows greater patience in drawing everything out. That it teeters on the edge of the grim acknowledgment that even its truths may not be enough to change our perception of this industry and the power it holds makes it all the more enthralling to behold.

It’s incredibly effective and culminates in one of the best closing shots of any film to show at this year’s festival. Without ever once overplaying its hand, it ensures the smallest act of resistance and compassion hits like a train.

It is a film about journalistic ethics and, in its own way, the interpretation of images is grounded in [Dunst’s] outstanding performance. It isn’t an easy role to inhabit, but she does so perfectly.

Thankfully, even when sudden exposition about past trauma lands clunkily, the rest of the film remains light on its feet and properly fun as we observe the couple being tormented by whatever is drawing their corporeal forms together.

Even when you then think it may have all settled down, the film twists the knife even further.

Polite Society proves to be a triumphant action comedy with wonderful characters you only wish you could get to know even more.

There is a cacophony of sound and color which provides some spark to it all. It just is burdened by unshakably tiresome plotting that is made all the more meaningless when it decides to walk back much of what already felt far too small in its creative and emotional scope.

Seo excavates universal truths that transcend all generational and cultural divides. The many geographical, social and emotional pains these young people are grappling with are ones everyone faces down. As they find ways to fight this, coming to realize all the many ways they may not be so easily able to, there is something both genuinely heartfelt yet quietly haunting about it.

That we remain invested is a testament to Boyega as he proves once more he is capable of making good films that are greater than the sum of their parts. It cements his status as one of those actors who makes any project he is attached to one worth seeking out with They Cloned Tyrone being on the better end of a career with so much promise ahead

It is via a willingness to push beyond the headlines and discover something more about humanity that 2nd Chance reveals a deeper sense of the truth behind its scandalous story.

What makes The Stranger work is how this all creates an experience that feels as though the two men have become almost doomed to a life where they will aimlessly wander in what feels like an Australian purgatory. Whether they ever manage to escape and uncover some sort of closure is irrelevant to the growing rot that threatens to consume their souls no matter what they do.

Even with some perfectly fine comedic gags, Power Ballad can never overcome the emptiness of its characters and the equally flat, overlit visuals that make the entire thing look more like a bad TV episode than an actual film.

The final scene all the way up to the last line hits like a truck. It leaves wreckage in its wake as the psychological and emotional scars linger for us as an audience just as they do for its central character caught in the grasp of a cruel world.

As the film becomes about the conflict between a handful of key characters, it takes on the machinations and trappings of a psychological thriller surrounding a mystery of sorts that we already know the answer to.

What is undeniable is its sense of vision, a fully realized work that marks Colbert as a director to watch in absolutely anything she takes on next.

Even as there are some moments where it can fall into feeling like a greatest hits recap of the group that dances along the surface of the story, the more complicated reflections it offers on their lives and music cuts quite a bit deeper when it counts.

The Fall Guy feels like an entire feature of scattered ideas that have been done better elsewhere.

Splitsville goes off the rails in increasingly entertaining fashion, with every single part offering something new and unpredictable. It’s a film of well-crafted jokes that are based in character and a willingness to more than go for broke when needed.

Indy is a delight who can do no wrong. Though the film around him is not always as assured, he is a star who has earned all the pets and treats a dog could dream of. After all the nightmares he had to endure this film, he more than deserves it.

While it is important for the film to immerse itself in the emotional struggles of the scenes, it also is hindered by some occasionally abrupt edits and anarchic writing that dulls the sharpness of its story.

The Inspection proves to be a rich work of personal introspection crossed with a wiser slice of life portrait of an era that can only come when looking back.

A descent into darkness that will swallow you whole, In My Mother’s Skin is a beautiful and brutal work of historical horror with visuals that will echo through your mind.

It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley doesn’t do much of anything new with the documentary form, though still excavates plenty of interesting details within a familiar package.

There is much about it that remains imperfect, especially in terms of some of the broad character beats that it begins with, but it proves to be proper fun once it gets going.

The result is a film that’s not just funny, skewering so much of the lazy yet still effective tropes of so much of true crime, but also a wake-up call for the genre.

If you’re willing to take the plunge, it’s a haunting experience. Whether you come up for air or retreat back into the woods, well, that’s another thing entirely.

Though it works better in its individual moments, there is still something stunning about how it will frequently submerge us in a more subtle and sinister sense of looming dread that soon becomes emotionally shattering.

Never could the story be described as a series of sketches haphazardly stitched together as many comedies can fall into being. It looks and feels like a drama that is coming apart at the seams as Robinson careens his way through it.

At every turn, the film earns every emotional, lived-in development, instilling this slice-of-life portrait with such a quiet humanity that it can feel like you’re sitting at the tables and in the meeting rooms along with all the characters.

As the focused film delicately yet decisively establishes, a job is still just a job and can take more from you than you may realize going into it, leaving you to one day look around to discover there is no ground beneath your feet.

There is no other horror film you’ll see this year as incessantly cruel and mean-spirited as The Coffee Table. This is both a compliment and a criticism, as, while the film is plenty committed to twisting the knife into its audience, it can also be rather repetitive before rushing to the finish.

Even as it eventually loses steam on the way towards a rushed conclusion, the film’s prevailing charm and characters shine through such struggles.

A stunning embrace of abject horror that peels back the layers of skin just as it does those of the mind, The Outwaters stumbles upon a brutal brilliance in the desolation of the desert.

When Queer wanders in its own direction in the shaky latter half and captivating conclusion, it may lose some watchers in this descent into dreamlike despair. Still, it crafts a critical last paint stroke in its delicate portrait of desire.

Rather than come away feeling like you’ve watched something truly daring or inventive, it all feels derivative. It is a film that is too mundane to even get mad at.

The cruelty at the core of this vivacious vampiric farce is blended up with sharp yet silly gallows humor, ensuring the grim absurdities Larraín gracefully teases out increasingly take flight even as he continually drags us into gruesome and gory depths.

In the end, Bayona’s film takes us right into the heart of this story with clear-eyed focus and the necessary technical craft to make it work.

Even as it’s not Ramsay’s best film, even a minor work from the filmmaker is still better than just about any other director. There remains a haunting power that she’s able to wield over her audience.

When Late Night with the Devil casts off the tenuous bindings it is using to hold back chaos, it arrives at something more frightfully fun.

It lacks the electricity of his past works but, as we come to see, the lifelessness of it all, is, in many regards, the point of the whole thing. It's about carrying on when nothing makes sense.

For all the promise of its main cast and sturdy thriller premise, The Menu is a work that seems destined to slip from your mind.

Riley, proving himself to be a romantic just as he is a believer in revolution, clearly not only loves these boosters with hearts of gold, but anyone that is trying to make it all work for themselves and those around them.

It makes for an entertaining watch in which the attention to detail in every technical element helps smooth over the scattered and superficial story’s many residual shortcomings.

It’s the least Charli XCX movie yet, with her disappearing into her role so completely that it's often breathtaking to witness, but it's also the one that marks her arrival as an essential voice.

It is by no means a perfectly constructed work, but there is something more immense in its thematic aspiration that provides plenty for Pugh to play around with. All that makes it unwieldy also makes The Wonder mesmerizing so that, even when the spell is broken, you can’t shake it from your mind.

As a complete portrait of youth on the cusp of the rest of their lives, it never manages to be authentically sharp enough to transcend the more tiresome narrative trappings it falls into and a grating over reliance on musical cues as punchlines.

There is a good film in The Harbinger that we catch glimpses of in moments of horror and the conversations we do get to see play out. It just is struggling to break through the uncertain confines of the story it is trapped in.

It’s a film where every detail of the craft is worth taking in even when the story starts to lose steam a bit towards the end.

While far more grim than one might expect, and miles away from being a straight crowd-pleaser, it proves Patel is a force to be reckoned with, not only as an action star but as someone with skill behind the camera.

Even as it comes awfully close to overstaying its welcome just a bit, much like the spiders in the home of the characters, it very quickly grows on you.

Though the ending is somewhat disappointing and less dynamic than everything that preceded it, this can’t take away all that the film still has going for it.

Throughout it all, Hawke is mesmerizing. The action scenes are tense and well-executed, though it’s the way he grounds it that makes you feel every setback.

After the Bite could initially be mistaken for just another part of a trajectory of movies that has become defined by this trend-chasing rather than something more. However, if you begin to look closer, you’ll discover a measured reflection on our relationship to both the predator of the deep and the habitat that has come under threat.

It’s far from perfect and is at its brutal best in the final stretch, though it manages to get there in mostly one piece — even when its characters do not.

It is enigmatic and eerie in a manner that crawls under your skin until you feel like you can't escape it. It is proof that films like this, even as they are enormously painful, can reveal the dark truths of being alive in ways other works shy away from. It reflects how life can often have no respite from tragedy, instead burrowing deeper and deeper into it. It succeeds in capturing this state of being, meticulously and ruthlessly ripping away the past until the future comes crashing down.

Hope, the all-time great new action film from writer-director Na Hong-jin, is a glorious genre romp that contains more magnificent moments in its opening act than most do in their entire runtime.

There are plenty of silly recurring jokes and a collection of quirky characters, but it all exists to cover up just how empty the film itself is at its core.

There will always be much to the film that is too distant, but the moments where Stolevski pulls us in closer make its portrait of passion resonate where it counts.

It is a work that is so caught up in the noise that it drowns out the moments of the profound silence that could have spoken to something more.

When it all comes together, Wendell & Wild ends up feeling liberating, both artistically and thematically, with top work from all involved.

What makes this latest documentary from director Peter Nicks different is how it takes time to sit with the failures and go just a bit deeper.

A thriller that starts solidly enough and picks up steam before blowing the doors off with an outstanding ending, Magpie is one of those rare films that feels both fresh and alive while building off classic genre works of the past.

It has a lot on its mind that it wants to tackle, but that leaves much of the explorations it is undertaking feeling half-baked. This doesn’t drag things down too much, as it is mostly able to keep light on its feet, but it does make things a bit wobbly.

The texture that gives vibrancy to these types of understated stories just isn’t there, ensuring that what little there is to grasp onto soon slips away as well.

Sometimes, in film and in life, the greatest gifts are the ones you don’t expect yet were there all along. Omni Loop is this in beautiful, bittersweet action. As it loops back one more time, you’ll wish you could run it all back again.

It is grimly funny at times, though no less terrifying because of it. Everything compliments itself as we observe the beautiful forest being made into a hunting ground where there is nowhere you are safe for long.

The passion that was brought to creating the perilous and dark world is just so spectacular to take in. If modern superhero films had even one iota of the creativity of this one, they wouldn’t grow so tiresome.

Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out in terms of where things are going, a new wrinkle will be introduced that delightfully sidesteps all of your expectations.

Out of Darkness is an often jaw-dropping horror debut that arrives at a more substantive conclusion that makes everything more interesting in retrospect.

Etzler wields the film’s urgent satire like a scalpel, precisely cutting away at all the lies we so easily find ourselves telling that mask the darker truths about who we are.

Even as not all the jokes land, the rare experience of getting to take in a spoof comedy like this makes it worthwhile all the same.

Serving as the anchor to a drama that otherwise frequently holds you at a distance, Melliti gives an understated yet riveting performance as a young woman finding her way in the world. The film lives and dies on her shoulders, making it all the more exciting to see her carry it with such nuance.

As shot by his frequent collaborator, the cinematographer Benjamin Loeb, and cut together by Kogonada himself, Zi blurs the lines between tone poem and hangout movie, letting both merge together to become something unexpectedly moving.

It is a character study that creeps up on you, deploying well-timed darker comedic moments that set up the cutting dramatic ones all the better. There is no pretentiousness or ego to either of the stunning performances, ensuring we are hit with the maximum impact of a maniacal masterclass of acting from Abbott and Qualley.

Despite a strong performance from Nick Offerman, Sovereign is a film that’s inescapably slight and with little to say with its painfully relevant story of modern extremism.

It’s just that while you can’t see any of the strings being used on the effects, you can see the story being manipulated. You may fall in love with Ochi all the same, but you can only wish you’d gone on a richer journey together.

It’s not only his best film yet, but it’s the work he’s been building up to over his entire career.

Jérémy Clapin’s Meanwhile on Earth is a mesmerizing work of science fiction with a magnificent performance by Megan Northman.

You get wrapped up in the whimsy of it all just before it all hits you like a truck, finding plenty of resonant emotional flashbacks that contextualize and deepen the experience just in time for the conclusion.

Wishful Thinking is then one of those great films about love that treats it not just as an abstract concept, but as a living, breathing, and constantly evolving state of being, painting a full portrait of its couple who find themselves swept up in it. You fall in love with the film just as you do both of its characters, together and separately, even as they may, too, break your heart.

Tim Blake Nelson and Chloë Kerwin give life to Asleep in My Palm, helping to smooth over the narrative rough spots when it count.

Though it assembles some of the right ingredients before laying them out before you, it never proceeds to arrange them in any particularly interesting or entertaining way.

An engaging enough dramatization of the true story of a man who became known for spending months hiding out in a Toys “R” Us to escape capture after robbing businesses by coming in through their roofs, Derek Cianfrance’s “Roofman” is also a regrettably safe film defined by missed opportunities that ultimately steals any deeper resonances it could find right out from under you.