Graeme Guttmann

Visceral, bruising, and darkly humorous, Die, My Love hits like a sledgehammer thanks to Lawrence and director Lynne Ramsay's uncompromisingly grim vision of domestic life.

For all The Phoenician Scheme's eccentric thrills, sardonic performances, and globe-trotting adventure, the film still feels limited in the grand scheme of things.

I imagine that Sound of Falling will reward repeat viewings. There's almost too much to take in upon first glance, decades of life condensed into two and a half hours. Schilinski's vision is so confident and so bracing that it's hard not to be arrested by what's happening onscreen, even if you're not sure what's going on.

Yet, despite this apathy, there is an emotional core to Friendship, one that made me root for Craig despite all of his shortcomings and unpleasantness.

With its brisk runtime, the film wastes no time and, though it plays into genre tropes often, its premise is enough to make this film a compelling watch. The film ends up being surprisingly emotional thanks to its protagonist, though its lack of characterization of its human counterparts hurts the film's climax just a bit.

It’s a fun B-movie with timely elements and some exciting kills. It may not be much more than that, but sometimes that’s enough.

Its charms grew on me so fast that I couldn't help but love almost everything about it, logic be damned.

Cave's assured direction creates a sickly sweet, dreamy world, and though its story sometimes lacks the dynamism it needs to fully connect, Kidman, unsurprisingly, carries the film over the finish line.

Broe is able to go beyond a clichéd queer cityscape to capture something that feels achingly real, all the more so in the evolution of Johan and William's relationship. There's a sadness here, but it's blunted by the fact that it plays out in a way that feels very true to life.

The Things You Kill may seem like a simple revenge drama, but it allows itself to be so much more through form and story.

Despite some of Bunnylovr's shortcomings, Zhu has a knack for filmmaking, and it's an exciting debut for the young artist.

Rebuilding chooses a gentle, deliberate approach to its story, making it all the more powerful in its observations on what it means to find a home and community in places and ways you'd least expect.

The Ballad of Wallis Island is effortless in its execution and breezy in its pacing, which makes its emotional undertones all the more surprising and affecting.

Twinless is designed to make you squirm, but it's through this discomfort that Sweeney finds humor and heart.

Along with its genuine humor and a frank exploration of the different ways queer people live today, Jimpa is an emotional experience that feels authentic in a way that can be difficult to capture.

It's a riveting film, but one that left me feeling hollow and ultimately frustrated with the continued way in which much of American cinema tackles crises like the one at the center of September 5.

Gladiator II really soars when it does the unexpected and, for the most part, that only happens when Washington, Quinn, and Hechinger are onscreen. It doesn't make for a well-rounded film, but it does make for an entertaining one. For all its faults (of which there are only a few), Scott is still fully in control of this massive undertaking, letting his contemporary sensibilities bleed into the gravity of the past.

Despite sturdy performances, Without Blood doesn’t fully come together.

Though the script fails to follow through on some of its promises, the subtext is there and Elordi, Edgar-Jones, and the rest of the cast give quietly devastating performances as their dreams manifest in ways they cannot predict.

It's not a perfect film, but Emilia Pérez is endlessly captivating, an exercise in genre, tone, and sheer fearlessness.

It's one of Adams' best performances in a career full of them, messy and feral and unwiedly, just like Nightbitch itself.

Conclave is not trying to be some treatise on the state of the Catholic Church, nor is it saying anything new about modern religion. It's engrossing nonetheless, and it milks the titular event for every dramatic drop its worth.

The Last Showgirl isn't perfect - it's melodramatic by design, and it wears its heart on its sleeve. But Anderson's raw and unfiltered performance, one clearly tailor-made for her, makes up for the film's weaker elements, as does the chemistry between the cast.

The transition of tones is subtle - you don't realize you're watching a horror movie until it's too late.

The action isn't elegant. It's erratic and loud and ugly. . . it's a symphony of chaos. It's also a damn good time, even if Kurosawa leaves us with the haunting notion that we're all too connected, just one click away from finding opportunity or something much more dangerous.

The End is a challenging film and the rewards may be minimal, but that it exists at all is a miracle itself.

Somewhere between Alien & Aliens — fitting given its place in the timeline — Romulus serves up blockbuster-level action & visceral horror all in one.

Using her face alone, Monroe shifts from morbid curiosity to abject terror and emotional devastation, culminating in a killer final shot that encapsulates what's so unnerving about the movie. Sometimes fear doesn't immediately register — it can be a seed, planted and cultivated over time and, once a full bloom settles in, it's hard to shake the fears that grip you.