Matt Neglia

Like the band itself, Earth, Wind & Fire (To Be Celestial VS That’s the Weight of the World) seeks to honor the past while looking toward the future.

Atonement is a powerful human drama about the often elusive nature of forgiveness.

Minotaur is another unmistakably political, bleak, and methodical work from one of our best storytellers.

Mungiu trusts the audience to arrive at their own conclusions as he casts the film out into dark, uncertain waters, with us unsure where exactly it is headed next, yet continuing forward all the same, much like people and society themselves, regardless of whether we are ready for it or not.

A non-stop spectacle unlike any other. I hoped it would be awesome, and somehow, against all odds, I’m ready for more.

There are flashes throughout of the filmmaker at his absolute best, enough to remind audiences why Gray remains one of America’s most compelling storytellers, but taken as a whole, Paper Tiger ultimately feels like a lesser entry in his filmography, let alone the crime genre, which he has dabbled in on more than one occasion.

It’s a heartwarming film about queer nightlife, fatherhood, self-worth, and growing up long after society says you should have already done so. More than anything, it understands that redemption isn’t about becoming perfect. Sometimes it’s simply about finally permitting yourself to change, one step at a time.

As someone who absolutely loves any kind of a crime film, “How To Make A Killing” can be entertaining at times as a morality play wrapped in designer suits and generational spite. It’s juggling a lot more than it needs to, and it never fully synthesizes its most perceptive ideas, but it’s powered by another star performance from Powell, keeping it barely afloat.

For purists, this approach may be considered sacrilegious. For others, it will be exhilarating. There is no denying that Wuthering Heights will inspire fierce debate. But there is also no denying its craft, ambition, and emotional conviction.

Keeper may not be as deeply horrifying as “Longlegs” or as darkly funny as “The Monkey.” Still, it demonstrates Perkins’ continued evolution as a filmmaker. He refuses to make the same movie twice, using horror as a way to explore new stories, emotional territory, and deploy new tones and techniques.

In a career of many masterworks, this may be Paul Thomas Anderson’s most vital film yet. It’s one cinematic delight after another, a battle cry, and undoubtedly not only the film of the year, but for an entire generation, perhaps the entire decade.

Ultimately, Tuner is a film about sound, silence, and rediscovering who you are. It’s about the terror of losing what defines you, and the strange, unexpected ways life can offer a new shot for those who feel they already missed it.

Thanks to Ahmed and Karia’s creative collaboration, this new version of a man caught between expectation and collapse, tradition and insurgency, love and fury will hopefully find its way to a new generation that has never experienced Shakespeare’s timeless story before.