Lex Briscuso

Nothing short of a true-life triumph, All The Beauty and the Bloodshed is all at once the most important film about addicts, outcasts, and what makes each one—no matter their "sin" or the stigma—family. There is an understanding at the core of this documentary, one that says to the addicts and the ostracized alike, "I see you. I know you. I will not turn my back on you." The message is welcomed; In fact, it sounds like a new hymn.

Baker cuts straight to the feeling – and because of his fearless filmmaking, this career-best film, in all its crushing and chaotic glory, demands to be felt.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a fast, fierce, and unapologetic gut punch that centers the horrific abuse suffered by the Osage nation at the hands of those who were entitled to nothing and thought themselves worthy of everything.

May December is an intricate patchwork quilt of melodrama and stark reality woven into one big blanket of suppression.

A Real Pain is a hilarious and tender drama that shows us that truly living is the only way to honor those we've lost.

It’s hard to overstate how immaculately crafted Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is, both as a prequel to Max Max: Fury Road and as a stand-alone story of how the Wasteland created a powerful character.

The film, with its pulsating score and club-scape visuals, is only interested in showing its audience the truth about situations like the one that unfolds throughout the story — and Molly Manning Walker's first film feels like an expert, surefire debut as a result of the skill with which she (and the brilliant collaborators she surrounds herself with on and off-camera) elicits every subtle gut punch the movie has to offer. 

It’s clear both The Card Counter and First Reformed are cut from that same cloth, though the latter sticks the landing better than the former.

Ree’s magnificent documentary takes its audience not only through the tragic elements of Mats’ life—the diagnosis of his illness, his decline, his untimely death—but the good parts, too, through effective testimony and powerful archival images, audio and video.

Sure, it’s an exaggerated and somewhat obvious film, but that doesn’t make director Coralie Fargeat’s point any less true – nor does it detract from the tremendously gory way in which she makes it.

Alice Darling successfully lays bare the realities emotional and verbal abuse has on victims, while also highlighting how the smallest shows of support can be exactly what victims need to change their circumstances.

Asteroid City is a top-tier Wes Anderson original that brings back the carefree fun and charm of some of his best works while also turning his own personal conventions on their ear in an attempt to try new things.

Tony Hawk: Until the Wheels Fall Off is a reckoning of passion told by those who best understand the price of that love story: Hawk, his loved ones and his peers on the board.

In Gutierrez’s vivid and moving film, Kahlo is in no less than full, glorious view.

This is such a bold and genuine movie, one that highlights the concepts of found family, maternal connections and doing what makes you happy alongside all of its unrestrained and risque fun.

A story of a generational actor who realizes the price of the fame monster far too late in life, Jay Kelly is a smart, funny, and emotional ride that deftly interrogates what it means to be a human and an artist in equal measure – and the unfair sacrifices required to be great.

It’s a bit muddled in execution, but despite its faults, the film is visually ambitious with things to say hidden under the surface.

The film is utterly singular to American design—as is the policing system in question—and a masterclass in effective documentary work that exists solely to deliver an impalpable truth.

The Outwaters is an immersive hellmouth waiting to, quite literally, swallow us up and spit us back out into the landscape more horrified of what the universe is capable of than ever before — and trust me, you don't stand a chance against what it has in store for you.

Veni Vidi Vici is like a piercing scream into the void, daring you to truly process what it’s telling you for fear you might fall victim to its apathy next.

All in all, the movie is a complete blast, one that will satisfy hardcore fans of the franchise, new folks joining the fun for the first time, and those who are looking for the series to start turning in new directions.

It’s a fun flick and some may still be drawn into The Night House’s mystery, but the film—and everyone at the heart of its conception—have Hall to thank for that.

The new documentary is a colorful force of nature underscored by the fierce soundtrack of life, embodying the best parts of its subject in the name of nostalgic exploration. After all, music can tell beautiful stories, and this journey is no exception.

V/H/S Halloween is a terrifyingly worthy addition to the ranks, excitedly and expertly bringing gorgeously gory and gratuitous fun to fans who love that stuff the most — and god are we grateful for it.

Lorcan Finnegan’s smart survival thriller The Surfer sets a brutal, sun-soaked stage for star Nicolas Cage to do what he does best: go completely nuts.

Oxygen and Laurent’s performance rely on how human nature manifests in us all: With a desire to live, no matter the cost. And none of what is achieved in this claustrophobic mystery would be possible without Laurent.

The power of friendship is what keeps the heart of this film pumping fresh blood until the very end.

This film is intentionally exhausting because it wants you to feel the way Sissy feels as the special concludes: chewed up, spit out, used, abused, martyred for something you thought could love you back.