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.

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.

There’s a century worth of experiences packed into this room to glean from, and nearly all of it is an enthralling exercise.

Despite the constant threat of censorship (or worse), the reporters still manage to find joy and even humor in their daily lives. That comedic energy grows increasingly dark and even apocalyptic as the situation becomes more perilous, but “My Undesirable Friends” shows that the power of human connection and the fight for justice and freedom endure even in the most oppressive settings.

At its best, Blue Heron soars, creating the world of Sasha’s family in impressively precise ways and allowing the underlying questions to linger without succumbing to simplistic answers or pat moments for cathartic release.

It’s a touching and moving homage that reminds us of the precious spirit that directs us towards remembering the deep love we have for family, through all its ups and downs.

It’s easy to feel left behind by the film’s intentions. But no matter viewers’ specific level of interpretation, what Schoenbrun does with the slasher genre, using it as a springboard to explore ideas that clearly resonate with them, is compellingly intelligent and consistently fascinating.

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

The Alabama Solution may not provide a definitive answer, but it sparks an undeniable demand for change, making it one of the most urgent and important documentaries of the year.

This quietly moving documentary takes a hands-off approach, which allows audiences to organically meet the film on its level. This method lets the farmers subtly present the central conflict that’s most affecting their lives and livelihoods. The gorgeous black-and-white photography gives the film an appropriate sense of timelessness.

Each and every artistic element works in lockstep to create another exquisite Pawlikowski film.

A profoundly moving experience about nuanced thematic explorations of connections that is exceptionally crafted. The somber filmmaking highlights an engaging atmosphere, and the narrative is layered, nuanced, and captivating. The performances are all exceptional.

Writer-director Lucía Aleñar Iglesias and star Zoe Stein announce themselves as major talents in the former’s contemplative, moving feature debut - a work that's as patient and impeccably-composed as it is alluring from a plot standpoint.

The act of dreaming itself is what sustains us. Life is unpredictable, and dreams are sacred, which is why it’s nearly impossible not to find yourself rooting for someone as foolhardy as Marty Mauser, or for the beautifully unhinged vision of Josh Safdie.

Markus Schleinzer’s Rose is always engaging and has something thoughtful to say about gender norms.

Ben’Imana is a stunning, gorgeously assembled film about a people faced with a level of emotional labor that no one should ideally be forced to surmount.

All of a Sudden is a two-pronged attack on the head and the heart, rewarding viewers for their patience and attention by leaving them emotionally and intellectually affected in a way that will last long after the credits end.

With Below the Clouds, Rosi performs an act of preemptive time travel by putting images and voices of a specific time, place, and people onto film. It’s a taxing watch that intentionally tries modern viewers’ patience, which is sure to repel most, but the nobility of Rosi’s intentions is inarguable.

It’s hard to argue with Martel’s mission, or the existence of the film at all; however, unfortunately, the director’s wide-ranging approach has the effect of muddling the story rather than elevating it.

Certain to energize longtime fans and generate new ones for generations to come, EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert is a masterwork of montage. It’s a definitive doc that gives the sense of how the artist changed popular music, but also about how at his core he was a man with a powerful voice and a zealous need to entertain.

Cover-Up is an overall captivating, invigorating watch. Without editorializing too obviously, Poitras and Obenhaus have created an incredibly impactful and, at times, infuriating look at America’s history of violent imperfection, showing that when it comes to holding our nation accountable, journalists like Seymour Hersh are an absolute necessity.

Powered by excellent performances from Sophie Okonedo and India Amarteifio, who convey the multitudes of a fascinating titular character, “Clarissa” shines as a unique perspective on Woolf and exemplifies the Esiri brothers’ compelling vision as filmmakers.

Park Chan-wook has once again crafted a stunningly energetic and endlessly creative film that delights the mind and the eyes.

It may not always be easy to thoroughly enjoy a work like “Blue Film” because of its tough subject matter. Nobody wants to see an entirely sympathetic perspective of a person who has committed some of the most horrible deeds imaginable. But the strength of the film is not in seeking to answer those pure moral questions. It thrives in that gray area, contemplating the pain that leads people to the lives they end up creating for themselves.

Without a doubt, The Furious is not only the best action film of the year so far, but the best action onscreen since maybe since John Wick 4.

“Fiume o Morte!,” a reference to D’Annunzio’s slogan “Fiume or death!,” is a brilliant, subversive takedown of fascism, ruthless in its pushback against this embarrassing chapter.

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.

The culmination of Soto’s themes mixed with his comedic prowess produces an insightful meta-meditation on the meaning of creation. Its rewarding contemplations conclude its saga of misfortune with the power of the spoken word — wrapping the protagonist’s search for creative consolidation with a heart-rending bookend.