Chase Hutchinson

The more we are taken on this journey through Grace’s early foray into adulthood, the more it earns its classic coming-of-age beats while also cutting into something deeper it can call its own.

When it all comes together it proves to be yet another poetic and patient cinematic reflection on the families we build for ourselves from one of the best observers of humanity to ever do it.

Though possibly well-intentioned, the execution of The Covenant ensures its narrative and thematic potential is drowned out in the roar of gunfire it becomes far too enamored by.

Critically, the film’s many revelations aren’t neat and tidy, but they are revealing in all the ways that matter.

Ambitious yet focused, it is a film that draws from both history and fantasy that it then shapes via joyous music. The result is an epic that makes the most of its magic, eschewing the regrettably typical constraints of the form to become something that is both deeply reflective and beautifully realized.

This is a full character that Dillane and Dickinson have built from the ground up, where the little details of how he reacts to things can tear right through when you least expect it.

Much like the central sculptures that become the focal point of its best scenes, Kôji Fukada’s “Nagi Notes” is a film defined by a sense that the filmmaker is trying to chip away at something.

Even when the film can get tangled up in subplots that don’t quite have the same impact as all the moments we get with the main trio finding a new path forward, it still mostly holds together.

When watching The Feeling That The Time For Doing Something Has Passed, the brilliant comedy from writer-director Joanna Arnow in which she also stars, both comedy and tragedy are expertly wielded in her hands.

Much like the character he plays, Mikkelsen does a lot with very little, giving life to a barren world that is often defined by death and suffering. It is in his piercing stare that we are taken into the entire interior world of tumult he is trying to contain.

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.

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.