It follows in the footsteps of the Mr. Rogers documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? by shining a light on the making of the iconic series, revealing things you may not have known about its creators, and bringing some good old fashioned nostalgia to your heart.

Joyland is a wonderful film about longing and desire with a melancholy undertone that you just don't expect.

Lovable, uplifting, and guaranteed to put a smile on your face, "Rye Lane" is the funniest movie of 2023 so far and a highly satisfying walk-and-talk romance.

There's something about a Mike Mills film that feels like it's gently caressing the hair out of your face and kissing you on the forehead: a softness, a wistfulness that acknowledges how hard reality can be while tucking you into bed. While "C'mon C'mon" can't protect you from the world, it can at the very least hold your hand as it tries to figure out the path forward too.

There’s a lot to love here; searing heretic cinematography included, as long as you’re a fan of horror flicks that *love* taking their damn time. It’s emotionally invasive, disturbing, and brutally unforgiving once Sator’s presence takes hold.

In lesser hands, Challengers would have been a chintzy soap opera. Guadagnino, however, is able to bolster an admittedly typical soap story with an energetic style and attention to detail.

Pig is not the movie you think it is. It’s something far more beautiful, and far more painful. It is an existential meditation on the search for something. Anything. A kind of cosmic loneliness envelopes this film. It’s extraordinary.

The Holdovers is proof that we need more thoughtful, studied, loving, and irresistible human stories on screen. It certainly helps, however, when Alexander Payne is at the helm.

A sensory overload, Sound of Metal is one of the most fascinating films you’ll see all year. Even when Darius Marder‘s lengthy character drama isn’t quite working – a problem that persists in the final act – it’s always engaging.

As he’s done so many times before, with BlacKkKlansman being the most recent example, Lee is able to wrap his messaging up in an entertaining package, crafting what could be considered a war pic and a heist story that has so much more on its mind.

At a certain point, Navalny kicks into spy movie mode, detailing how that "Bulgarian nerd" utilizes data acquired from the dark web to pore over phone records and flight manifests to narrow down a possible list of suspects. It's riveting stuff.

In Asghar Farhadi's fascinating, complex A Hero, nothing is simple. And no good deed goes unpunished — if it was even a "good deed" to begin with.

It's when the film meets between these two modes — the mythic and the realistic — that it's at its most thrilling.

In The Woman Who Ran, Hong lets go of all vanity and gives Kim a well-deserved spotlight. With Kim’s rueful performance, and the film’s roaming, Eric Rohmer-like sensibilities, The Woman Who Ran allows itself to take solace in serenity and not worry so much about the would haves and could haves.

Mass is a masterful directorial debut for Fran Kranz.

A wonderful mixture of bad vibes and macabre fun, Weapons is one of the best horror movies of the year, and further confirmation that writer-director Zach Cregger is one of the most exciting voices in the genre right now.

It's impossible to describe. It's unlike anything you've ever seen. It's the best American movie in years, and certainly the best movie to hit theaters since the pandemic began.

Close is a story about growing up and losing those wondrous childhood relationships forever, but it's far more than that. It's a tender glimpse of loss on an unimaginable scale, told through the lens of a young boy trying to make sense of it all.

For a film that grapples with so many capital-letter themes about loss, identity, and perseverance, it's the central question about belonging — and our difficulties in ever really getting to know how we fit into another person's life, even a spouse or parental figure — that truly sets After Love apart.

Godzilla Minus One is one of the rare Godzilla pictures about the indomitability of the human spirit.

While a full 140 minutes of this can get occasionally exhausting and tedious, Aïnouz makes it more than worthwhile in his stirring conclusion when the full impact of a life apart becomes wrenchingly apparent.

MLK/FBI is an essential film. And it’s a film relevant to where we are at this moment.

One thing's for certain — R.M.N. is by no means a pedestrian affair, with Mungiu's mastery of the Transylvanian landscapes the perfect backdrop for the exploration of some heavy issues. There's a lot to unpack by the time the credits roll. But it's deserving of every stray thought you'll return to in the days after watching it.

American Fiction fully understands that you don't have to sacrifice art or politics for entertainment, satisfying those who want a rich thematic experience or to just have a laugh in a crowded theater.

The documentary makes an effort to drive home just how much harm illegal abortions cause — but in terms of the presentation, more could have been done to highlight the horrific and tragic nature of the real history.

The joys of "Glass Onion" involve the plot twists and shocking-but-hilarious revelations Johnson keeps throwing at us at breakneck speed. Every scene is loaded with lightning-sharp wit coupled with a genuinely engrossing mystery. Like Blanc, we're hooked on the idea of solving this mystery.

A fast-paced thrill ride that never lets up.

Benediction" is true to its title, offering up a blessing — not to the Church, rather, but to those whose lives were never able to be lived to the fullest. The film is more than a beautifully performed, masterfully directed piece of entertainment. It transcends, offering hope to any person yearning for more. It is in equal turns lively, devastating, funny, hopeful, and heartbreaking.

Amy Seimetz plays by her own rules like this is the last film she’ll ever make (it won’t be, no shot). She Dies Tomorrow ponders self-fulfillment with agency and riveting execution. Seimetz’s fearlessness is what sells every ounce of this uncontrollable narrative’s every zig and zag. From tone to philosophy to composition, this is Seimetz’s soul on celluloid.

Nighy brings a dignity to the proceedings that you can't help but admire, especially when it comes to Williams' sudden self-awareness in his final days, and that helps keep your attention.

It’s an unbeatable combination of humor and heart.

I left 28 Years Later nervous about what might come next. After The Bone Temple, I'm thrilled at the prospect of where this story could go. That's what I call progress.

With Waves, the director has crafted his most ambitious film to date – a dizzying, weighty, heart-wrenching saga of one family disintegrating right before our eyes.

Some might wish the filmmaker had avoided current politics at all, but the "Knives Out" films are very much a reflection of our modern times, and Johnson clearly has an uncomfortable but important message he's trying to preach: faith and belief are good things ... until someone starts using them the wrong way.

Ti West is back with a violent vengeance, slicing and dicing through likable characters that light up the screen throughout their doomed and debaucherous overnight shoot. West is operating on another level — even the slightest editing cut cranks fear factors another notch higher.

This portrait of Sparks is just as lighthearted and delightful as the music you’ll be tapping your toe to throughout the entire movie. As soon as the movie is over, you’ll probably be adding Sparks songs to your streaming playlists and hoping that this won’t be the last time that Edgar Wright feels compelled to give us a deep dive into one of his favorite musical acts.

It's easy to imagine this becoming a favorite movie for curious, creative kids and their cineaste parents — a cute, sweet, funny, imaginative tale dressed up like reality, an ode to survivors and the power of community.

This is Ira Sach's best film in years, a magnetic, emotional, and hugely watchable exploration of love and sex in the modern age. Those of us who've been following Rogowski for a while have been ready for this, and "Passages" might just be the film that makes him a superstar.

One of the things that makes You Hurt My Feelings so enjoyable is that it's simply a film about adults having adult conversations. They drift around New York, or hang out in apartments and bars, and just ... talk. That might sound boring, but the snappy script and hilarious performances keep everything buoyant.

Filled with thoughtful commentary, lush visuals and a myriad of perspectives, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror is a must-watch that chronicles humankind’s most intriguing cinematic stories.

Barbie is an absolute marvel hiding within the plastic pink confines of Barbie, making it a phenomenal reflection of the iconic doll that serves as source material. Gerwig clearly knew the preconceived notions folks would have about the film going into it because they're the same ones lobbied against the doll. Fortunately, she put her best pointed foot forward and delivered one of the best films of the year.

Not everything works — for example, there are multiple moments where characters are firing up cigs with Zippo lighters that seem painfully choreographed to look "cool" — but the film is so energetic and intense that it's hard to not go along for the ride.

With its deliberate (or sloowwwwwww, as some might call it) pacing and inherent lack of action, The Eternal Daughter might frustrate some looking for a more traditional ghost story. But The Eternal Daughter is plenty haunting. The ghosts here aren't the traditional specters returned from the grave. They're the type of ghosts that haunt us all — memories, both good and bad.

Jason Yu knows how to stage a tense thriller and gives Sleep a sense of claustrophobia, using the small size of the apartment and some inventive camera movements to slightly change the apartment throughout the film, showing how the characters are losing their grip by making them unfamiliar with the place they know best in the world.

It’s sexy, but it avoids the common tropes. It takes the Black woman “jezebel” stereotype and flips a middle finger towards it by jumping head first in this sensual world. And that brazzeness makes for a unique story that you have to see for yourself.

Introducing, Selma Blair rips the Band-Aid off society’s view of chronic illness with a raw portrayal of her medical diagnosis that is authenticated in its emotional and physical intensity.

Linoleum is much more than meets the eye, and as the film wades into its final 15 minutes or so, you'll find yourself overwhelmed by an emotional revelation that not only clears up any lingering fog from the story's puzzling evolution but really pulls at the heartstrings with a wonderfully woven tapestry of life and love. 

You won't see anything gory in Red Rooms. Nothing is going to jump out of the dark and make you jolt in your seat. But as the film slowly and methodically burns towards its surprising conclusion, your heart will race along with your mind. Do you want to see something scary? Watch Red Rooms.

At first blush, Mank isn’t your typical David Fincher flick. Yes, it’s gorgeously mounted and meticulously crafted. But it doesn’t feel like Fincher’s other movies. And yet, when you look closer…it does. Because like all great Fincher films, Mank is about obsession. The obsession with getting something right. The obsession with creating good art. The obsessions with being remembered long after the whole world has faded to black.

Kidman's performance is simultaneously vulnerable and feral, yet another tally on the board proving her as one of the greatest to ever do it.

Flux Gourmet is an enjoyable romp that pushes buttons, defies conventions, and makes you see food in a whole new light. I'd like to think that was exactly Strickland's goal, no matter the film's ultimate genre.

Feels Good Man is, in some sense, a horror movie about the legacy of images, the ownership of images by their creators, and the lives they take on outside of the artists who make them. In particular, it’s a horror story about the life of one particular image: Pepe.

Overall, I wouldn't say Guillermo del Toro's Pinocchio is a "dark" movie so much as it is a challenging one — refreshingly so, with knotty, complex questions and real peril.

Dune: Part Two is a rare big, expensive blockbuster with a lot on its mind. Not content with just spectacle (and boy, there is a lot of that), Denis Villeneuve's sequel packs in heavy thoughts on religion, war, revenge, romance, and yes, really big worms. It's not entirely successful, but gosh, you gotta appreciate the attempt.

This is a sweet, friendly, low-key affair that often feels less like a story and more like a home movie Linklater collected to share with his grandkids.

All These Sons falls short of Liu’s tremendous documentary feature debut, but shows that the Minding the Gap filmmaker is capable of tackling a complicated and knotty subject with the same kind of laser-focused intimacy that he showed in his first autobiographical outing. There may be a distance to All These Sons, but its clear-eyed compassion makes it a solid and effective follow-up.

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. 

Not only does it stand on its own as a masterful action-adventure blockbuster, but it also exemplifies Miller's thesis as a whole: that survival "in extremis" reveals the true essence of a person. "Fury Road" is an even better movie because of "Furiosa," and George Miller has gifted the world with his magnum opus. Witness him.

where Shaun the Sheep Movie felt comedically risky and goofy and brilliant, Farmageddon is a bit dated on arrival, making the kinds of jokes that would have felt a bit old hat a decade ago, let alone now. It’s a good thing this movie exists, even if it’s not quite up to snuff.

The plot grows more elaborate and fantastical, but the film itself has its feet firmly on the ground, and Soderbergh seems solely committed to giving us a quick, mid-budget, ultra-sturdy thriller with no pretensions — the type Hollywood doesn't really make anymore.

Whenever the film was on the verge of losing me, O'Brien's steady, remarkable performance brought me back. He really is that good here, and honestly, that might just be enough.

Although it doesn't possess the hard-boiled, shifty-eyed salaciousness of a traditional whodunnit, "Conclave" is certainly in the spirit of a private investigator story.

Sullen, sarcastic, silly and seductive at various times, the film manages to walk a high-wire act of tone, making the act of mourning the least miserable part of the family gathering.

Laugh out loud funny, strangely charming, and a truly unique endeavor, "Nude Tuesday" is exactly the kind of movie you love to discover on the film festival circuit, and it deserves to find an audience on the big screen, even if it's just for the indie crowd.

Cruz is the film's MVP as Lola, kookier than she's ever been, and playing well into the character's question mark of a persona — is she a true auteur or a hack? You never really find out, but watching Lola become increasingly disillusioned with the whole project makes her the closest we get to a relatable character in this whole heightened satire.

Where the 2023 film succeeds is a visceral emotional and textural experience.

It’s a beautiful, strange terrarium of a film, inviting us to gaze through the glass and wonder what’s going on underneath. Just as funny and creepy as it needs to be, the film is Kaufman at the top of his game, firing on all cylinders. A master of his own unique, unclassifiable craft.

Kids in the Hall: Comedy Punks is an insightful, celebratory, uplifting, and uproarious documentary that celebrates some of the best and brightest comedic talents.

Though there are certainly moments that will pull at your heartstrings, Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie is more uplifting than sad, and it's also quite funny thanks to Fox's natural charm and the wealth of comedy from his on-screen career.

This is a great time at the movies, the kind of dark comedy that plays to the crowd and the kind of pseudo-thriller that keeps you guessing as each poor decision made by its lead character introduces a new wrinkle in the ongoing spiral of drama and recklessness.

July – and her performers – find humanity lurking within their quirky oddballs. There’s also plenty of humor to be had, mostly from Wood’s deadpan delivery.

Cruise once referred to the '86 film as "an amusement park ride ... a joy ride [which] shouldn't be looked at beyond that," and for audiences who can watch "Top Gun: Maverick" through that lens and appreciate it as a piece of propulsive action cinema, this could end up being one of the most crowd-pleasing and satisfying movie experiences of the year.

BlackBerry may not get the awards love "The Social Network" did, but it does turn a fascinating story into a very entertaining film.

Oddity is one of the best horror movies of the year.

It's a heartbreaking, but clear-eyed look at the last gasp of a dying industry, and a man whose whole identity, whole livelihood gets shattered by a force beyond his comprehension.

There's plenty of slow creeping dread on display here, matched with that dark humor and two fantastic leads. It all comes together to make "Birth/Rebirth" one of 2023's more interesting horror entries.

Warfare is downright experimental in its presentation, daring even in how it bucks form and structure. As an experience, it cuts to the bone.

An effective blend of lyrical impressionism and controlled precision, After Yang is another quietly impressive effort from Kogonada.

Good Luck to You, Leo Grande is a spellbinding piece of filmmaking, an acting masterclass, a celebration of the written word, and a powerful cinematic plea for self-acceptance and self-love.

In stark contrast to the rise of "second screen" brain rot and clunky dialogue meant to catch streaming audiences up on whatever they missed while scrolling on their phones, Killer of Killers demands your undivided attention every step of the way lest you fall behind.

If more world-building, bigger action, and a deeper embrace of what its leading man does well all perk up your ears, you know what you need to know. As someone who has been in the tank for these movies for nearly a decade now, the fourth film is everything I wanted out of these movies. Yeah, I'm thinking he's back.

This visually and metaphorically commanding film, crafted with precision by Jenkin, urges viewers to look for its answers deep within itself instead of simply giving them away.

The cast is dynamite across the board. The way they converse with each other feels wholly natural, as if they've been talking for years.

The element that keeps The Card Counter truly alive is Isaac, who turns in one of the best performances of his career here, using his eyes to convey things dialogue never could. To watch him work here is something special, even if the movie as a whole can't ever quite match his intensity. 

The otherwise low-stakes drama is so invested in their emotional state that the lows are bottomless, while the highs have no ceiling. Haapasalo plucks this tiny three-week period from the ether and every filmmaking trick in her quiver allows us to relish in it.

This isn't Bogart's best film, although it's a very fine one.  It does, however, contain by far his best performance, making it a fitting send-off as his last outing under the bright studio lights.

Vera Drew is both the unstoppable force and the immovable object, and we should all be so lucky to bear witness to her madness. The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules, and The People's Joker refuses to follow any of them.

No less than 40 years pass throughout the film, but the immediacy and almost casual flow of time makes it surprisingly easy to attune one's senses to what van Groeningen and Vandermeersch are attempting to communicate.

A Love Song is rough around the edges, but between its gorgeously crafted world and Dickey's ability to ground the film with a single expression, the flaws fade away when the finer elements sing together in harmony.

Barbarian ends up being a masterclass in tension and unpredictability. It is scary without leaning too hard on tropes, making for a truly entertaining film. It is a damn good-looking movie anchored by great performances all around.

Is this a horror movie? A mystery? A thriller? There are elements of all of those things here, but the movie defies easy categorization, and its low-fi vibe and metaphor-heavy approach will not be everyone’s cup of tea. We’re All Going to the World’s Fair seems uninterested in adhering to genre trappings, instead focusing its attention on ideas about change.

This is a truly beautiful film. But these visuals wouldn't be nearly as effective if del Toro had neglected the emotional heft of the story. Thankfully, he has Elordi to do a lot of the heavy lifting.

The film underscores its technical prowess with a raw, emotional story that finds beauty struggling to push through all the muck and mire. In 1917, war is hell, but it’s a hell you can find your way back from as long as you remember your humanity.

The Substance has an impossible-to-miss message about the struggles of women, especially women on constant display in an industry that thrives on rigid beauty standards. But it's also a delightfully farcical romp; an exhilarating, shocking freak show with an absurdist heart. It's the type of movie you won't forget.

While this movie's story may sound familiar — it's about a religious teenage girl's sexual awakening in a stuffy community that would rather never address such things — its success is dependent on its execution, and writer/director Laurel Parmet, in her feature directorial debut, hits every target she aims for along the way.

The end result is stunning and scary, full of swooping, swooning, doomed romanticism and moments of pure, unblinking horror.

Fancy Dance has excellent performances, elevated by the script's deft composition. There's a remarkable nuance at play in this story of womanhood, parenthood, sexuality, community, and coming of age. It all feels so real and authentic.

Deadwyler is simply a revelation in the role, her alternately fragile, fiery, and steely performance carrying "Till" through some of its biggest lulls.