Kontinental '25 (2025)

Direction: Radu Jude
Country: Romania 

Admired Romanian writer-director Radu Jude, always incisive and corrosive in his observations, continues to nurture a deceptively simple yet striking filmmaking style, favoring long, conversational takes—this time shot entirely on an iPhone 15. His latest feature, Kontinental ’25—both a nod to Rossellini's Europe ’51 (1952) and a sharp social commentary on Romania’s systemic failures and the erosion of individual experience—captures the essence of real neighborhoods (partly drawn from documentary footage on the history of local architecture) while following the story of a guilt-ridden Hungarian bailiff, Orsolya (Eszter Tompa). After evicting a once-celebrated athlete turned destitute alcoholic—who later takes his own life—she becomes haunted by the event.

Vilified by nationalists online and demonized by the xenophobic press, Orsolya cancels her vacation with her detached husband and seeks solace through a series of tense encounters—with a cold friend, her quarrelsome nationalist mother, an Orthodox priest, and her former law student Fred (Adonis Tanta), now a food delivery worker fond of reciting “Zen” parables.

This tragicomic narrative, seemingly small in scope, expands into a broader portrait of Romania’s social, moral, and political condition. Jude fuses absurdism with realism to create something both unpretentiously profound and mordantly funny. There are no thrills in the conventional sense—the real suspense lies in discovering where Jude will ultimately take us. Visually, the film remains modest, yet the director providies just enough terra firma to sustain viewer engagement.

While Kontinental ’25 may not reach the towering resonance of Aferim! (2015) or Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World (2023), it achieves a finely tuned balance between structural modesty and thematic depth. Depending on one’s patience for slow cinema, this unabashedly sardonic work will either repel or fascinate—but it unmistakably continues Jude’s bold dismantling of Romanian society from within.

Sirat (2025)

Direction: Oliver Laxe
Country: Spain / France

The fourth feature by French-born Spanish filmmaker Oliver Laxe (Mimosas, 2016; Fire Will Come, 2019), Sirat unfolds as a radical road trip that transforms into a breathtaking survival thriller. Watching it feels like being struck by a seismic wave that grips you from the start. Early on, we’re told that Sirat is a bridge connecting heaven and hell—a fitting metaphor for the journey ahead. 

Co-written with his regular collaborator Santiago Fillol, the film follows a distressed father (Sergi López) and his young son (Bruno Núñez Arjona) as they search for his missing adult daughter in the southern mountains of Morocco. Along the way, they encounter a group of nomadic ravers caught in trippy dance rituals, awash in hallucinogens and the volatile promise of freedom.

Beautifully shot and powerfully acted, this intoxicating work confirms Laxe as a singular filmmaker. His skill in balancing nihilistic, hallucinatory, and spiritual tones is remarkable. Kangding Ray’s hypnotic trance score meshes seamlessly with Mauro Herce’s vivid, sun-scorched cinematography, deepening the film’s immersive atmosphere.

Aside from López, Laxe again directs non-professional actors, maintaining his idiosyncratic style—measured, raw, and far removed from conventional storytelling. Drawing inspiration from Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry (1997) and produced by Pedro Almodóvar, Sirat is a grave, unsettling meditation on loss and human frailty. It builds on fear and anguish, creating a palpable sense of doom that seeps into your bones—you’ll feel the sweat on your back in its most intense moments.

Sirat is a punchy, excruciating film that shakes things up in a way rarely seen on screen. An audacious leap forward for Laxe, who edges ever closer to becoming one of auteur cinema’s defining voices.

Twinless (2025)

Direction: James Sweeney
Country: USA

Alaskan writer-director and producer James Sweeney stars in his sophomore feature Twinless, a black comedy where he shares the screen with Dylan O’Brien. 

This darkly tinted tale of obsession and guilt kicks off with a funeral and ends up with a renewed relationship. Dennis (Sweeney), a lonely and emotionally wrecked gay man, meets Roman (O’Brien)—not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed—at a supporting group for twinless twins. What starts as a seemingly healing friendship soon spirals into conflict as unsettling secrets come to light.

The film maintains a consistent tone but lacks a compelling point of view. It starts confidently and intriguingly, yet drifts into a meandering bore. There’s no reason Twinless couldn’t have been witty or mordantly funny, but it seems too enamored with its own supposed daring, making an awkward leap from mildly intriguing to tiresomely hysterical. Sweeney, whose intentions may be sincere, ultimately miscalculates, fumbling toward a shallow resolution that dulls whatever spark the premise promised.

By the end, Twinless can’t conceal its shortage of ideas, and its early twists fail to justify the journey. What might have been an incisive exploration of grief and identity instead collapses into triviality, half-serious and half-baked.

Manas (2025)

Direction: Marianna Brennand
Country: Brazil 

Debut filmmaker Marianna Brennand co-wrote and directed Manas, a raw, devastating, and deeply somber drama film that lays bare impaired family ties and cruel, traumatic adolescence in the isolated city of Marajó in Brazil’s Amazon region. The story sheds light on an abominable reality, examining cycles of family dysfunction that give rise to a different kind of horror.

We follow 13-year-old Marcielle (Jamilli Correa), who abruptly loses her innocence and trust after confronting sexual abuse within her own family. What’s most harrowing is the collective silence that surrounds her: relatives, church members, and the broader community are all aware of the crimes yet choose to look away.

The subject matter alone is emotionally shattering, but Brennand amplifies its impact through stark, eloquent imagery that speaks louder than words. The setting’s haunting isolation makes everything feel even more suffocating and real.

Measured in pace but unrelenting in power, this quietly distressing film is revolting, heartbreaking, and profoundly compelling. It’s not an easy watch, but Manas is an essential one—an urgent act of courage by a fearless filmmaker, carried by performances of striking emotional truth.

Splitsville (2025)

Direction: Michael Angelo Covino
Country: USA

As in his directorial debut The Climb (2019), American filmmaker Michael Angelo Covino directs, co-produces, and stars in Splitsville, a screwball-inspired comedy bursting with manic energy. Shot in just 24 days, the film follows the emotional whiplash, romantic chaos, and skeptical musings of two married couples—played by Dakota Johnson, Adria Arjona, Kyle Marvin (in his second collaboration with Covino), and Covino himself. 

At once cruel and silly, Splitsville unfolds as an overwrought carousel of breakups and reconciliations, gradually losing traction in its final act as the narrative grows too chaotic and emotionally volatile to sustain. It only truly sparkles in flashes—the standout being a ferocious, unbroken fight sequence between the two male best friends—yet much of it feels in need of a rougher edge and more air to breathe.

Covino wants to transgress but never finds his way to something convincing and original. The discombobulated love stories are marred by a thin script with nothing particularly interesting to say. I felt no connection with the characters, and none of the leads bring anything special to the film. Believability really goes out the window here, and Splitsville might have been easier to take if it were less infatuated with its own cleverness.

A Little Prayer (2025)

Direction: Angus MacLachlan
Country: USA

From Junebug (2005) writer Angus MacLachlan comes A Little Prayer, a bittersweet meditation on family, faith, and fracture. The film portrays the delicate dynamics within an American family with more seriousness than humor, revealing a humanity so genuine that its imperfections feel wholly forgivable.

The rigorously streamlined scrip follows Bill Brass (David Strathairn), a veteran and successful metal-sheet company owner who is very fond of his kindhearted daughter-in-law, Tammy (Jane Levy). He gets consumed by distress when he finds out that his alcoholic son, David (Will Pullen), is having an affair with one of his employees. His sense of stability unravels when he discovers that his troubled, alcoholic son, David (Will Pullen), is having an affair with one of his employees. At the same time, his emotionally fragile daughter, Patti (Anna Camp), returns home after another quarrel with her drug-dealer husband. Strathairn’s quiet dignity makes Bill’s private anguish palpable, while Celia Weston brings warmth and gentle humor as his wife, Venida.

A Little Prayer is a sincere, heartfelt, and beautifully restrained drama. Its format might feel familiar, but this is an affecting story that brings an emotional specificity to each scene. Balancing heartache and grace, the film captures the tragic and the beautiful facets of family life with rare empathy and control.

Caught Stealing (2025)

Direction: Darren Aronofsky
Country: USA

After three consecutive misfires—Noah (2014), Mother! (2017), and The Whale (2022)—Darren Aronofsky makes a striking comeback with Caught Stealing, a period black-comedy crime thriller of the highest order that leaves you shaken yet utterly captivated. 

Effectively capturing the anxious tribulations of New York’s Lower East Side during the late ’90s, the film adapts Charlie Huston’s 2004 novel with a nod to Scorsese’s After Hours (1985), following Hank Thompson (Austin Butler), a former baseball player turned bartender and die-hard Giants fan who finds himself entangled with Russian mobsters and dirty money. It marks Aronofsky’s ninth feature in 27 years — and the first chapter of a planned trilogy.

Aronofsky’s touch is unmistakable in the kinetic camerawork, gritty atmosphere, and underground allure. A vivid 1990s texture emerges through graffiti-covered walls, seedy bars, punk aesthetics, vintage cars, and worn city façades. The director populates this world with a gallery of characters that are worthy of your time due to their idiosyncrasies. They are the real magic of the film. 

Backed by a stellar cast and razor-sharp script, Caught Stealing is also wickedly funny. Liev Schreiber and Vincent D’Onofrio are uproarious as a pair of Hasidic hitmen, while the ruthless Russian thugs exude genuine menace. Wild Chinatown chases and gunfights in smoky underground bars unfold to the pounding soundtrack of British post-punk band Idles. Longtime collaborator Matthew Libatique once again delivers striking cinematography, capturing the city’s feverish claustrophobia with precision.

Revisiting his recurring themes—addiction, violence, and downcasts—Aronofsky reinvents himself with electrifying confidence. Caught Stealing promises a bloody good time, and it delivers — cerebrally, cinematically, and without compromise.

Suze (2025)

Direction: Dane Clark, Linsey Stewart
Country: Canada

Married couple Dane Clark and Linsey Stewart’s sophomore feature, Suze, is a smartly observed excavation of dependent single parenthood, middle-aged crisis, conflicted choices, and the unfulfilled expectations of youth.

Super-protective single mother Susan (Michaela Watkins), navigating the challenges of perimenopause, finds herself adrift when her daughter Brooke (Sara Waisglass) leaves home to attend university in Montreal. To her dismay, she unexpectedly maintains contact with Brooke’s blunt, unfiltered boyfriend, Gage (Charlie Gillespie), whom she can barely tolerate.

Flawed yet sympathetic, Suze is intimately aligned with its topics, hitting the sweet spot between awkward and affecting. Clark and Stewart’s sharp understanding of their characters’ inner lives makes the film consistently engaging, even when dealing with uncomfortable truths. Watkins delivers one of her most rounded performances, finding humor and heart in Susan’s vulnerability, while the film’s charming attention to small details makes the film easy to watch and like. 

If there’s one minor irritation, it’s how often the title name is repeated throughout — but even that can’t dull the film’s gentle wit and emotional honesty.

Highest 2 Lowest (2025)

Direction: Spike Lee
Country: USA 

Based on Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low (1963), Highest 2 Lowest marks another misguided adaptation from Spike Lee, following his failed take on Oldboy (2013). It reunites him with Denzel Washington after 19 years, their last collaboration being Inside Man (2006), preceded by Mo’ Better Blues (1990), Malcolm X (1992), and He Got Game (1998). 

The story centers on David King (Washington), a Bronx-born music mogul whose life spirals when his teenage son, Trey (Aubrey Joseph), is kidnapped for a ransom of $17.5 million. Screenwriter Alan Fox transplants Kurosawa’s tale into the American music industry, touching on themes of friendship, family, moral dilemma, and career. Yet the staging is so deficient and uninspired that the film never rises above mediocrity.

Undercutting the drama is a faulty score by Howard Drossin and Fergus McCreadie, which consistently fails to heighten tension, alongside an unappealing soundtrack featuring tracks by ASAP Rocky (who also stars) and Jensen McRae. The lone exception is a live performance by the late Latin-jazz pianist Eddie Palmieri, whose rendition of “Puerto Rico” stands out as a poignant posthumous tribute.

Instead of three-dimensional characters, Highest 2 Lowest gives us wax ones with zero chemistry. Nobody is really stepping outside their comfort zones. Therefore, when you should be clenching your fists with emotion, you only end up shrugging as everything seems unnaturally staged. 

Dragged out over two-plus formulaic hours, the film underscores Lee’s vertiginous decline. He has never made films in a predictable way, but here he is once again a hostage of his own misconceptions.

Honey Don't! (2025)

Direction: Ethan Coen
Country: USA

Ethan Coen’s second solo directorial effort, Honey Don’t!, is a pedestrian neo-noir detective comedy weighed down by a basic script and textbook psychology. Co-written with Tricia Cooke, the film never rises above mediocrity, depleted of suspense and rarely funny. Its posture convinces some they’re having a good time, but in reality it offers only sex and murder dressed up as a ridiculous masquerade of mass entertainment.

The plot follows Honey Donohue (Margaret Qualley), a small-town private investigator and self-assured lesbian who takes on the case of a murdered woman linked to a spiteful cult church led by the lustful Reverend Drew Devlin (Chris Evans). Along the way, Honey enters a torrid relationship with police officer MG Falcone (Aubrey Plaza) while juggling unresolved family issues.

Every step in this machinery feels awkwardly glued together; the more one expects, the less it delivers. The film plays like a slapdash first draft masquerading as finished work, a violent comedy that becomes a parody of itself. Like his solo debut Drive-Away Dolls (2024), this effort delays Coen’s affirmation as a strong filmmaker and storyteller apart from his brother. Qualley seems more engaged than the material deserves, while Evans fails to convince.

Dracula: A Love Tale (2025)

Direction: Luc Besson
Country: France

With Dracula: A Love Tale, Luc Besson (Léon: The Professional, 1994; The Fifth Element, 1997) reunites with actor Caleb Landry-Jones—whom he directed in Dogman (2023)—to offer a winsome new angle and deeply personal update on Bram Stoker’s novel. Boasting visceral imagery, the film follows Prince Vlad (Landry-Jones) across four centuries after he renounces God for failing to save his beloved wife (Zoë Bleu). Transformed into Count Dracula, an implacable vampire, his only wish is to reunite with the love of his life. A Paris-based German priest (Christoph Waltz) seems to be the only man capable of converting him back to light, but at a steep price.

Occasionally wild and permanently dark, the film thrusts us into the past with an ambitious script, slick direction, and strong performances from an international cast. Besson shows greater interest in the characters’ emotional entanglements than in rigid narrative fidelity or gothic stereotypes. His hybrid approach even finds room for unexpected sword and gun fights.

Taking bold steps, Besson—whose filmography has often been uneven—feels strikingly at ease in this fantastic-mystical register. His vision is elevated by Danny Elfman’s powerful score, Colin Wandersman’s sumptuous cinematography, and breathtaking sets and costumes. This Dracula surrenders to love with such fervor that the quest itself becomes his true damnation. Managing to rise above similarly themed films, Besson’s take should please almost everyone—except, perhaps, the most devoted Stoker purists.

40 Acres (2025)

Direction: R.T. Thorne
Country: Canada

40 Acres is a gnarly, slightly cynical thriller executed with precision but ultimately short on impact. Co-writer and debut director R.T. Thorne delivers a well-crafted film that nevertheless could have used a few more daring ideas and a sharper edge of imagination to fully succeed.

Set in post-apocalyptic Canada, the story follows the Freemans, a Black farming family determined to defend their fertile land from outsiders and cannibal raiders. Their rule is simple: ‘trust no one, and mercilessly annihilate trespassers. Lurking beneath the blood and grit is a pointed social critique—land ownership and theft—since the Freemans are both African-American and Native, while the marauding invaders are predominantly white men. 

Despite this intriguing layer, everything in 40 Acres feels carefully telegraphed, playing into the familiar rhythms of survivalist cinema we’ve seen countless times. The film raises stakes, develops threats, and maintains its grim tone with consistency, yet rarely ignites with urgency or surprise. In its attempt to flesh out character backstories, it sometimes loses focus, slipping into routines that blunt the tension.

Familiar Touch (2025)

Direction: Sarah Friedland
Country: USA 

Familiar Touch, the first feature by 33-year-old Sarah Friedland, draws inspiration from the filmmaker's dementia-stricken grandmother. Through carefully composed frames, Friedland depicts a challenging reality with the help of 80-year-old actress Kathleen Chalfant, whose performance stands as a career highlight. Their collaboration yields a delicate, sensitive, and luminous portrait of aging.

Avoiding melodrama, the story follows Brooklyn-based octogenarian Ruth Goldman (Chalfant), who enters a nursing home after a gradual psychological decline. Filmed with precision, the slow-paced, documentary-like staging captures gestures, smiles, and silences that feel authentic, challenging clichés and striking with sobriety and purity. Though it is difficult to witness the decline of an independent woman, Familiar Touch remains warm and affirming. 

Friedland’s script doesn’t take us to a sticky-sweat swamp of tears and wild emotions, but somewhere subtler than that, without sacrificing genuine emotion. This is a small film, but one that gets to the heart with profound affection.

Kill the Jockey (2025)

Direction: Luis Ortega
Country: Argentina / Mexico / other

Kill the Jockey, the fifth feature from Argentine filmmaker Luis Ortega, is a surrealist neo-noir tragicomedy—visually striking and mood-rich—that is just odd enough to skate by. However, it can feel somewhat thin in the plot, despite its intriguing exploration of identity, exploitation, and rebirth. 

The script—crafted by Ortega, Rodolfo Palacios (El Angel, 2018), and Fabian Casas (Jauja, 2014; Eureka, 2023)—follows Remo Manfredini (Nahuel Pérez Biscayart), a horse racing legend whose erratic, self-destructive behavior has left him numb. Struggling with addiction, Remo thrives on disaster and holds contempt for success. The racing world is dominated by Ruben Sirena (Daniel Giménez Cacho), a gangster obsessed with babies, whose only leverage now rests with Remo’s pregnant girlfriend, April (Úrsula Corberó). After a severe accident, Remo undergoes radical physical and psychological transformations that alter the course of his life.

Ortega’s vision is captivatingly strange, and the cast delivers exactly what he demands. Brimming with cinematic references, the film blends Aki Kaurismäki’s mordant humor, Wes Anderson’s bittersweet surrealism, and Radu Jude’s provocative social commentary. While the narrative occasionally feels circular, its offbeat tone and whimsical audacity make it potentially addictive once you surrender to its peculiar rhythms.

Together (2025)

Direction: Michael Shanks
Country: Australia / USA

Together, a fairly entertaining supernatural body-horror film, marks the feature debut of Australian filmmaker Michael Shanks, who also designed the visual effects while drawing on his own relationships and fears.

Elementary school teacher Millie Wilson (Alison Brie) and aspiring musician Tim Brassington (Dave Franco) are a young couple whose once-solid bond has grown wobbly and cold. Hoping to repair it, they move into a creaky old countryside house. But after a bizarre hike in the woods, their lives take a terrifying turn, haunted by supernatural forces that relentlessly test their physical and psychological limits.

Together plays like a cross between Alien and Cronenberg’s dark films, yet it punctuates the dread with funny, ironic, and even embarrassing moments—keeping the entertainment value high. With flashes of originality and visual flair, it manages to stand out in the crowded horror-romance field by offering something unusually gripping and radical.

Brie and Franco, married in real life, convey both intimacy and discomfort effectively, navigating between marital tension and carnal nightmare with ease. The couple had previously shared the screen in Franco’s The Rental (2020), and here their chemistry grounds the film even when the story spins into excess. Together is one of those immediate audience-grabbers that, even when veering into absurdity, remains undeniably fun.

Hallow Road (2025)

Direction: Babak Anvari
Country: UK

British-Iranian director Babak Anvari proves himself a master of economy in his fourth feature, Hallow Road, an intense, low-budget parent-child psychological nightmare stripped down to just two actors: Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys. The pair sustain the film admirably, delivering committed if occasionally repetitive performances.

Written by William Gillies, the script follows a married couple—troubled paramedic Maddie (Pike) and overprotective father Frank (Rhys)—who receive a distressed late-night call from their 18-year-old daughter claiming she has crashed her car on a deserted woodland road. Both parents fight to maintain control, but fear and paranoia quickly take hold when they discover the road is steeped in sinister myth and lore.

Hallow Road is taut and spare, sustaining a hypnotic sense of unease that favors suggestion over revelation. Anvari builds suspense with precision, weaving a psychological trance that relies less on shocks than on atmosphere and dread. Yet, while the film gets the job done on its own terms, it lacks the spark that might have elevated it further. The ambiguous finale leaves your mind spinning more than your gut churning, as hope flickers desperately within the shadows of the woods.

Late Shift (2025)

Direction: Petra Volpe
Country: Switzerland / Germany

Drawing inspiration from a detective novel by Madeline Calvelage, a young German nurse, Swiss screenwriter and director Petra Volpe delivers one of the most frighteningly believable, powerful, and necessary medical dramas in recent memory. Late Shift—a love letter to all nurses with heart—offers an enthralling experience that breathes authenticity and leaves you emotionally drained by its end.

Every frame rings true, with Leonie Benesch (The Teachers’ Lounge, 2023) delivering a stirring performance as a surgical nurse working at a demanding, chronically understaffed hospital. During an unforgiving night shift, she patiently engages with patients and their families, managing the relentless stress with quiet resilience—though certain atypical situations push her perilously close to collapse.

Rich in both humanity and tension, Late Shift keeps viewers constantly on edge, propelled by a taut script, assured direction, and flawless acting. The patients’ stories, drawn from situations Volpe witnessed while preparing the film as well as some personal experiences, deepen the film’s emotional resonance while grounding its drama in reality. 

You won’t find a more stressful cinematic rollercoaster this year—and its haunting finale continues to linger long after the credits roll.

Weapons (2025)

Direction: Zach Cregger
Country: USA

Directing from a clever plot of his own design, Zach Cregger (Barbarian, 2022) delivers his sophomore feature Weapons, an absorbing mystery-horror film that deftly blends humor with witchcraft before erupting in a gory, satisfying climax. Cregger spins a tale of narrative traps and eerie detours, crafting a creep show that dazzles with striking imagery and a sinister symphony of darkness and sorcery. 

Justine Candy (Julia Garner), a devoted elementary school teacher, becomes entangled in a shocking case when every student in her class mysteriously disappears overnight—except for one, Alex Lilly (Cary Christopher). With a troubled past casting shadows over her, Justine faces the wrath of distraught parents, most notably the obsessive Archer Graff (Josh Brolin), who launches his own investigation armed with recovered footage.

The film—structured around a web of interconnected characters and influenced by Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia (1999)—branches into chapters that also follow Paul Morgan (Alden Ehrenreich), a married cop embroiled in an affair with Justine; James (Austin Abrams), a scheming homeless junkie; and Marcus Miller (Benedict Wong), the school’s principal. All deliver strong performances, yet none matches Amy Madigan’s chilling turn as aunt Gladys, whose presence intensifies the story’s descent into the bizarre.

More mischievous than terrifying, Weapons thrives on its ability to both unnerve and amuse, fine-tuned to keep audiences teetering between uneasy laughter and manic delirium. With this film, Cregger cements his reputation as a rising horror auteur, skillfully balancing tonal shifts to offer a story that is not exactly a puzzler since the mystery is unraveled well before the blood-soaked finale.

Shambhala (2024)

Direction: Min Bahadur Bham
Country: Nepal / China / other

The fourth feature by Nepalese filmmaker Min Bahadur Bham is a lovely, feminist, and evocative work set in a small Tibetan Himalayan village, where modesty becomes its greatest strength. This finely tuned drama, told with gentle intimacy, follows Pema (Thinley Lhamo), a joyful bride whose life unravels after rumors circulate that she betrayed her beloved farmer husband, Tashi (Tenzin Dalha). In their culture, polyandry is customary—by marrying Tashi, she also became the wife of his two brothers: Karma (Sonam Topden), a devoted monk, and Dawa (Karma Wangyal Gurung), still just a boy. Determined to clear her name and preserve her honor, Pema sets out across the frozen mountains to find Tashi.

Shambhala lingers at times, but its minimalist narrative is as hypnotically captivating as it is culturally significant. It unfolds as a melancholic yet entrancing Himalayan ballad about the intricacies of human relationships and the preciousness of ancient traditions. The sweeping mountain vistas and delicate musical passages imbue the film with a quiet magnetism, while Lhamo’s grounded, deeply felt performance roots it in authenticity. The result is a work that expresses gratitude for life, stirs emotion from within, and offers a final, liberating sense of release.

Sorry, Baby (2025)

Direction: Eva Victor
Country: USA

The power of American independent film is on full display in Eva Vitor’s largely autobiographical feature debut Sorry, Baby, a deft blend of black comedy and drama laced with corrosive humor and covert horror. Produced by Barry Jenkins (Moonlight, 2016), the film—low-key yet strikingly authentic—conveys not only the devastating trauma and far-reaching consequences of a sexual assault endured by a literature grad student at her university, but also the tenderness and sustenance of genuine friendship. 

Victor, who also wrote and stars, is utterly convincing as the wounded Agnes; her emotions, demeanor, and concerns carry such integrity that they feel lived-in. Yet, there’s often the haunting sense that she’s teetering on the edge of a precipice. 

Tough and achingly beautiful, Sorry, Baby plays like a letter of apology to all the women forced to navigate the long road of emotional repair while their attackers walked free. At once as intimate as a sigh and as urgent as a klaxon, this symphony of shame, confusion, and resilience is driven by stellar performances—Naomi Ackie shines alongside Victor—and a compelling non-linear structure that gradually unearths and absorbs the emotional core of the story.