Universal Language (2025)

Direction: Matthew Rankin
Country: Canada

Universal Language is a stylistically and structurally interesting piece of poetic madness set in the dreary Canadian city of Winnipeg, where the locals, inexplicably, speak Farsi. The film’s mood is peculiar, gravitating between the absurdist aesthetics of Roy Andersson and Wes Anderson, and the emotional cadences reminiscent of Abbas Kiarostami.

In his sophomore feature, co-writer, director, and actor Matthew Rankin plays Matthew, a man who leaves his bureaucratic job in Quebec to return to his frigid hometown of Winnipeg, hoping to reconnect with his mother. Instead, he forms unexpected bonds with two kind-hearted children, a stranger his mother now lives with, and an eccentric tour guide.

The film’s atmosphere evokes a bygone era, and what begins as a puzzle—initially cold and disjointed—gradually coalesces into an emotional whole, its pieces ultimately fitting together. There is never a moment when the viewer is unaware of the film’s constructed artifice, yet the experience isn’t exactly off-putting. It demands patience, certainly, but its melancholy and arid tone are softened by geometrically composed frames that establish a contemplative relationship between space and architecture.

Rankin dares to think outside the box, presenting a visual and narrative approach that defies conventional standards. His movie comes with a hard core of disillusionment but also hope in humanity, and viewers in tune with his offbeat sensibilities will enjoy both the deadpan humor and the bold unconventional choices.

Warfare (2025)

Direction: Alex Garland, Ray Mendoza
Country: USA

With Warfare, co-director Alex Garland reaffirms his talent for crafting visceral, unflinchingly realistic war films, recounting the harrowing true story of a group of Navy SEAL snipers trapped in a commandeered Iraqi house during a high-risk U.S. Marines operation. Garland shares directing duties with Ray Mendoza, a former soldier who served on the actual mission, lending the film an added layer of authenticity.

If Civil War generated a buzz ahead of its success in 2024, then Warfare, featuring a stellar ensemble cast, delivers an even more intense experience, filled with brutal moments of pain and suffering, and punctuated by chilling silences and the muffled screams of despair. Be warned: the graphic violence may be deeply unsettling for some viewers.

The film portrays a grim chapter of American military history, one that not only sets your heart racing but also provokes reflection on the brutality and futility of war. Shot with unwavering precision and driven by a chaotic, raw, and primitive force, Warfare remains relentlessly claustrophobic and emotionally gripping from start to finish. The frequent use of close-ups deepens the audience's connection to the characters' trauma, making this one of the most nightmarish depictions of modern warfare ever captured on screen—an unforgettable descent into the psyche of men at war, and a powerful, if harrowing, cinematic experience.

Mickey 17 (2025)

Direction: Bong Joon Ho
Country: USA / South Korea

Mickey 17, based on the novel of the same name by Edward Ashton, is an ambitious but imperfect sci-fi blockbuster laced with black humor, social satire, and political bite. It centers on Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson), who volunteers to travel to a freezing planet as an “expendable”—a human whose body is cloned and reloaded with memories each time he dies. The planet is not only home to misunderstood alien beings called Creepers but is also governed by an authoritarian couple (Mark Ruffalo and Toni Collette) with bizarre, decadent tendencies.

The film, co-written and directed by first-rate Korean director Bong Joon Ho, doesn’t avoid some lengths and histrionics. One moment, it slips into a romantic soap opera that irritates more than it intrigues; the next, it evokes the spirit of resistance cinema—admirable in intention, but never fully realized in execution. Much like its protagonist, the narrative seems to reset every time it gains momentum, and the distinctly American brand of humor often feels bland or misplaced.

Mickey 17 ultimately falls short of expectations, and that is particularly painful given Bong's track record with masterpieces like Parasite (2019), Memories of Murder (2003), Mother (2009), and Snowpiercer (2013). Realism and caricature get locked in the same structure, and while the ballsy social commentary still holds up, the film never delivers the full-impact blow we hoped for. 

Ghost Trail (2025)

Direction: Jonathan Millet
Country: France

Inspired by true events, Ghost Trail marks the remarkable fictional feature debut of Jonathan Millet, who, drawing on his background as a documentarian, spent considerable time researching the subject of his film. The story follows a Syrian literature professor who, after being released from one of Bashar al-Assad’s notorious prisons, sets out to track down his torturer—someone whose face he has never seen, and who likewise never saw his. Now living in Strasbourg, France, this fractured man operates with the aid of an invisible network of six others, spread across the globe, all seeking justice from the shadows.

This intelligent spy thriller, steeped in obsession and executed with methodical subtlety, plunges directly into the recent, harrowing history of a wounded Syria. Tense and controlled, the film achieves a disturbingly realistic tone, grounded in believable character dynamics that immediately pull the viewer in and sustain engagement throughout. The pursuit is long, slow, and fraught with uncertainty, but the tension pays off. The protagonist, Hamid (Adam Bessa), though initially consumed by vengeance, is wise enough to make choices that allow him to cling to the possibility of a ‘normal’ life.

As merciless as it is hard-hitting, Ghost Trail offers a searing portrait of political trauma and the tangled drive for retribution. Its moral complexities, coupled with sharp storytelling and Bessa’s outstanding performance, make it compulsively watchable. Eschewing physical violence in favor of mounting psychological tension, this debut signals the arrival of a filmmaker discovering his power.

The New Boy (2025)

Direction: Warwick Thornton
Country: Australia

The Australian director, screenwriter, and cinematographer Warwick Thornton earned well-deserved attention, with engrossing dramas such as Samson and Delilah (2009) and Sweet Country (2017). His latest feature, The New Boy, centers on a nine-year-old orphaned Aboriginal boy (first-timer Aswan Reid) with mysterious healing powers. After being found in the desert, he is taken to a remote monastery run by the enigmatic Sister Eileen (Cate Blanchett, also credited as co-producer). She is aided by two Aboriginal converts to Christianity: Sister Mum (Deborah Mailman), a woman burdened by the loss of her children, and the reserved George (Wayne Blair).

There’s a certain coyness to A New Boy that suggests the film needed another draft, and its conclusion becomes unfavorably literal. While the film may strike a welcome chord for some for its portrayal of faith as both solace and a struggle, it largely fails to construct a compelling narrative arc capable to surprise.

By walking a super-thin line between grim believability and curious insensitivity, the film underutilizes its rich premise, becoming tacky and all too easy in spots. Thornton, who did much better in previous features, sacrificed tone for something more systematic and formulaic, but passed a clear message: Christianity triumphs imperatively. It’s unfortunate that this message arrives in a visually polished but vacuous package.

Blanchett’s reliably committed performance couldn’t redeem the film, though the evocative score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis reinforces both the emotional and the unfathomable.

Vulcanizadora (2025)

Direction: Joel Potrykus
Country: USA

The films of independent filmmaker Joel Potrykus have achieved cult status, often presenting high-risk material that yields unexpected rewards. His latest black comedy thriller, Vulcanizadora, follows two emotionally unhinged outfits—the hyperactive, motor-mouthed Dereck Skiba (Potrykus) and the laconic, perpetually bored Marty Jackitansky (Joshua Burge). They make a bizarre pact deep in the Michigan woods. A decade after Buzzard, Potrykus and Burge reprise their roles in this psychotic delirium laced with psychological horror.

The actors dominate every scene, clearly relishing the opportunity to explore territory most filmmakers would shy away from. They do so with a disarming simplicity. The subject matter is anything but light, and the film’s pull comes from the ambiguity and tension it steadily builds.

Bone-dry in tone, Vulcanizadora offers zero warmth, scant compassion, and weird characters. There is something profoundly unsettling about this tale of anguish, as Potrykus probes human vulnerability with a nameless, creeping unease. He reminds us that there’s still vitality in low-budget independent cinema, and his oddly sorrowful mindbender—flawed and fascinating—leaves its mark.

Grand Tour (2025)

Direction: Miguel Gomes
Country: Portugal / other

A loving tribute to silent dramas and classic historical adventures, Grand Tour—filmed in breathtaking black-and-whit—is a art-house triumph co-written and directed by Miguel Gomes, the visionary behind Tabu (2012), Arabian Nights (2015), and The Tsugua Diaries (2021). Evoking the spirit of Murnau and Pabst, while channeling Herzog’s Fitzcarraldo and elements of Von Sternberg and Mizoguchi, the film thrives on the cultural richness of its settings, imbued with an underground charisma and an enigmatic touch.

Inspired by a passage from William Somerset Maugham’s 1930 travel memoir The Gentleman in the Parlour, the story unfolds in 1918, following Edward Abbot (Gonçalo Waddington), a restless bohemian and possible spy stationed in Rangoon. His determined fiancée, Molly Singleton (Crista Alfaiate), sets out on a journey across Asia in pursuit of him. While he wants freedom, she wants marriage.

As comprehensive and lucid as a tone poem, Grand Tour is a dreamlike, tragicomic odyssey—a lavish production in which every frame pulses with expressiveness and dramatic force. Pushing intuition to its limits, Gomes liberates himself from the conventions of historical reconstruction. The result is a hybrid of experimental cinema, documentary, and fiction, through which he explores the wavering contours of human behavior with poetic clarity. His mastery of script, camera, and performance direction is striking throughout.

With just a bit more emotional depth and heightened tension, the film could have soared even higher. Still, Grand Tour exercises a powerful grip and stands as a strong recommendation.

La Cocina (2025)

Direction: Alonso Ruizpalacios
Country: Mexico / USA

Adapted from Arnold Wesker's play, La Cocina  is an exercise in style, full of highs and lows. It portrays a large, chaotic, multicultural New York kitchen where steel clangs, voices clash, and bodies move with tense urgency. Mexican director Alonso Ruizpalacios (Gueros, 2014; Museo, 2018) crafts a hot-blooded, surreal, and poetic spectacle that often resembles a wild circus.

Amid the clamor, dreams and personal struggles simmer—money has mysteriously vanished from one of the registers, and suspicion falls on Pedro Ruiz (Raúl Briones), a volatile, immature Mexican cook who has gotten Julia (Rooney Mara), an American waitress, pregnant. The film’s atmosphere is zany and sometimes disorienting, yet it retains a certain magnetic pull.

Undocumented immigrants and the marginalized are at the heart of the story—they’re indispensable and yet exploited—and the film offers fleeting but poignant glimpses into their roles in the restaurant’s ecosystem, which mirrors the nation’s broader social dynamics. The characters feel vivid and authentic, each with distinct aspirations and personalities, contributing to a frenzied spectacle that veers between hilarious and excruciating. 

La Cocina thrives primarily on its kinetic energy, with bursts of anger pushed deliberately to extremes, while also grappling with the dehumanizing mechanisms of an overburdened capitalist system that traps its workers. The score insightfully conveys the characters’ inner turmoil, and visually, cinematographer Juan Pablo Ramírez excels with striking black-and-white imagery and expressive camera work.

The Marching Band (2025)

Direction: Emmanuel Courcol
Country: France

The Matching Band, a comedy-drama co-written and directed by Emmanuel Courcol, navigates admirable humanism and warm emotion while exploring the fragile bond between two brothers who have only just discovered each other’s existence. Set in northern France, the story follows Thibaut (Benjamin Lavernhe), a successful 37-year-old conductor in desperate need of a bone marrow transplant, who also learns that he was adopted as a child. His only hope lies in contacting his biological brother, Jimmy (Pierre Lottin), whom he had never known. Despite their vastly different upbringings and lifestyles, the brothers find a shared language in music.

The Marching Band is an optimistic yet ultimately heartbreaking drama, elevated by a spirited score but marred by uneven performances—Lavernhe is more convincing than Lottin, who previously worked with Courcol in The Big Hit (2020). The film sometimes feels like a retread of familiar stories, revealing a degree of superficiality in certain areas. Its take on social determinism carries some heart, but despite its transparent staging, it lacks the raw urgency and piercing precision of Ken Loach’s realism. Instead, Courcol leans into light comedy and a saccharine tone that occasionally borders on condescension.

The plight of the mining community and its marching band, along with the romance between Jimmy and fellow band member Sabrina (Sarah Suco), feels underdeveloped—more like narrative filler than fully fleshed-out subplots. While the script doesn’t always ring true, the film ultimately lands with a powerful dramatic finale.

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl (2025)

Direction: Rungano Nyoni
Country: Zambia / UK / other

In Zambian Rungano Nyoni’s On Becoming a Guinea Fowl, characters move through a world marred by sexual abuse, trauma, and an infuriating societal passivity. Nyoni, who gained international acclaim with I Am Not a Witch (2017), also penned the script, centering the story on Shula (Susan Chardy), a fragile and apparently cold middle-class woman who shows no grief when she discovers her uncle’s body lying in the street. 

This moving, quietly furious drama, laced with moments of dark humor, gathers powerful elements to present a stirring call for a more just and self-aware Africa. It offers a compelling lens through which to examine Zambian traditions, cultural attitudes, and widespread indifference to issues like statutory rape and systemic sexism. Haunting and unsettling, the narrative’s ending may initially feel unresolved, yet compassion weaves subtly through the film. The emotionally fractured Shula is likened to a guinea fowl—an alert, talkative African bird known for warning others of lurking danger.

Tonally assured throughout, On Becoming a Guinea Fowl delivers a piercing, unflinching portrait of a family in desperate need of healing. Its ethos hits hard, and Nyoni deserves high praise for tackling such a difficult subject with discernment and sensitivity.

Black Bag (2025)

Direction: Steven Soderbergh
Country: USA 

Black Bag—a term referring to clandestine operations carried out by spies to steal secrets or sensitive documents—is a slow-burning thriller directed by Steven Soderbergh and starring an ensemble cast spearheaded by Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett. Fassbender’s character, George Woodhouse, is loosely inspired by CIA legend James Jesus Angleton.

Set in London over a taut, fast-paced week, the film doesn’t skimp on suspense—and even less on bite. David Koepp’s sharp script guides us through an unflashy yet gripping narrative of secret agents—two of them bound by an unshakable marital bond—doubtful behaviors and motives, and slippery professional relationships. Micro-aggressions, overt confrontations, cynical exchanges, and provocative mind games abound, all delivered with the right mix of irresistible glamour and disdainful coldness.

Though a minor entry in Soderbergh’s filmography, Black Bag brews a sleek concoction of twisted love and espionage with classy images and perfectly written dialogue. It’s a methodical, disconcerting, and deceptively simplistic effort from the American filmmaker, whose restrained touch here proves unexpectedly enjoyable.

Snow Leopard (2024)

Direction: Pema Tseden
Country: China

Snow Leopard, the final film by Pema Tseden, impresses with its stunning visuals but falters in story development and character depth. Tibetan culture takes center stage in this comedy-drama, which carries the intriguing simplicity of a fable. However, its execution often feels overly theatrical, preventing it from leaving a lasting impact.

The humor wears thin over time, and the film’s polished aesthetic renders some scenes overly staged. The narrative also suffers from the repetitive use of its central motif. Snow Leopard is carefully and calculatingly naive, with a story structure that remains distractingly uninspired. It aims for gravity but its sincerity falls flat. Tseden will likely be more enduringly remembered for Balloon (2019).

Girls Will Be Girls (2024)

Direction: Shuchi Talati
Country: India / France 

Sixteen-year-old Mira (Preeti Panigrahi) leads the life of a model student at an elite boarding school in northern India. Unexpectedly, her mother, Anila (Kani Kusruti), develops an unsettling fascination with Mira’s charismatic classmate and first boyfriend, Sri (Kesav Binoy Kiron), who is unusually mature for his age.

Girls Will Be Girls is a bold, emotionally layered coming-of-age drama that weaves together themes of family, education, and patriarchal influence in India. Shuchi Talati’s feature debut is firmly anchored in its cultural context, distinguished by a sharp script and an impeccably cast ensemble. The story unfolds with quiet force, grounded in authenticity, with Panigrahi delivering a standout performance. Talati emerges as a rare director unafraid to linger in a moment, allowing scenes to breathe. Her film is filled with contemplation, tension, and discovery, gliding between the social and the intimate with a graceful, unhurried style that avoids sentimentality.

Although not reinventing the coming-of-age genre, Talati handles the complexities of female sexuality with remarkable nuance, and Girls Will Be Girls explores far more than the usual tropes of teenage love. The tender thrill of first romance is present, but it’s painfully complicated by a forbidden familial intrusion, turning sweetness into something far more fraught and haunting.

The Kingdom (2024)

Direction: Julien Colonna
Country: France

In Julien Colonna’s feature debut, The Kingdom, a Corsican clan leader (Saveriu Santucci), wanted for political crimes, finds his life under threat as those closest to him are systematically tracked down and violently murdered. His teenage daughter, Lesia (Ghjuvanna Benedetti is the film’s emotional anchor), remains by his side. She watches quietly, full of questions. 

Shot mostly with non-professional actors, the film took three and a half years to complete. Colonna doesn’t overdo it, but the ever-present sense of danger seldom materializes into real tension. While the film tackles serious themes with a persistent air of mystery, its narrative remains uneven. The emotional undercurrents rarely match the political fervor driving the characters’ circumstances. 

The film’s strongest element is its genre-blending nature—part film noir, part coming-of-age tale, and part tender exploration of a father-daughter bond that surpasses any vendetta. With a consistently austere tone, this heavy-handed drama may only resonate with viewers in the mood for sparse dialogue and a bleak outlook.

Within its narrative limitations, The Kingdom offers a one-dimensional portrayal that often feels opaque and emotionally detached. It may have a soul—but not much of a pulse.

An Unfinished Film (2024)

Direction: Lou Ye
Country: China

From Lou Ye, the Chinese filmmaker behind Suzhou River (2000) and Summer Palace (2006), An Unfinished Film is a COVID-era docu-fiction arriving at a time when audiences are weary of the topic. Blending outtakes and behind-the-scenes footage from Ye’s previous works, the film follows a film crew that reunites in a Wuhan hotel to resume a project interrupted a decade ago. However, their plans are derailed as they find themselves trapped under strict government lockdown measures, separated from their families on New Year’s Eve.

At its best, the film effectively conveys the terror and helplessness felt by an entire population. Yet, its overall impact is underwhelming, struggling to develop a compelling narrative with its sluggish pacing. While frustration, paranoia, and isolation are palpable themes, the film never quite taps into their full psychological horror. Additionally, the reliance on mobile phone footage detracts from the experience, contributing to a bland drama that ultimately tests our patience with its predictability and absence of surprises. 

Companion (2025)

Direction: Drew Hancock
Country: USA 

By fusing elements of Ex-Machina, Black Mirror, and M3gan, Companion—a muddled sci-fi comedy thriller with a splash of gore—operates on artificial dramatic energies. Written and directed by Drew Hancock, the film follows a couple—insensitive and tactless Josh (Jack Quaid) and devoted, deeply-in-love Iris (Sophia Thatcher)—on a wild weekend getaway with friends at a remote cabin. Things take a dark turn when it’s revealed that one of them is a companion robot that can shift from vulnerable and needy to intoxicatingly confident and violent.

While Companion isn't a complete misfire, it delivers a middling cinematic experience, favoring familiar concepts over genuine wit and substance. The wobbly and misguided final acts fail to disguise the fact that the film doesn’t live up to its hype, even as it explores the horrors of toxic relationships and the looming ethical dilemmas of AI.

The biggest issue is the relentless sequence of twists, which attempts to keep the film engaging but ultimately feels exhausting. Though there are weird and amusing moments, the predictability and lack of originality reduce them to choppy, repetitive sequences. Despite Thatcher’s committed performance and the film’s fluctuating emotional beats, Companion remains a shaky, average effort devoid of real suspense—an interesting idea bogged down by a literal-minded, mechanical, and somewhat draggy execution.

Souleymane's Story (2024)

Direction: Boris Lojkine
Country: France 

Souleymane’s Story is a well-observed, heartbreaking drama that details an individual human experience with tension. Beautiful in its modesty, the film serves as a wonderful tribute to honest, hard-working migrants striving for a better life beyond their homelands.

At just 93 minutes, Souleymane’s Story builds its emotional power without overstaying its welcome. It pulls all the right strings without ever feeling manipulative, delivering a compelling socio-political message while allowing its characters and situations to unfold naturally.

Souleymane (Abou Sangare) is a former mechanic from Guinea working illegally in Paris as a delivery man. Like many African asylum seekers, he’s completely aware that his upcoming interview—where he will try to convince French authorities of his sad story—will determine his fate. Meanwhile, he’s confronted with many pressures and setbacks coming from different directions. 

Sangare, making his acting debut, is himself an undocumented migrant, mirroring his character’s journey with a rare and heartbreaking authenticity. Captured through raw, handheld camera, his performance radiates intensity, anchoring a film whose aesthetic choices  transcend documentary realism to become something even more urgent and profound. 
Triumphant in every aspect, Boris Lojkine’s third fictional feature is a slap in the face—tense as a thriller and searing in its social commentary. It is a work of rare power and honesty, masterfully blending content and form.

Hypnotically shot by Belgian cinematographer Tristan Galand—whose experience spans both fiction and documentary filmmaking—Souleyman’s Story is a film everyone needs to see. It serves as a powerful reminder of our shared humanity and the need for solidarity. So simple yet so genuine and captivating in all its essence.

I'm Still Here (2024)

Direction: Walter Salles
Country: Brazil

Walter Salles’ I’m Still Here straddles the line between political thriller and family drama, recounting a real-life story set during Brazil’s military dictatorship in the early 1970s. Engineer and former congressman Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello) is arrested at his home by regime enforcers and subsequently vanishes without a trace. His wife, Eunice (Fernanda Torres), is detained and interrogated for several days before being released—only to face the devastating reality that she will never see her husband again. This gripping narrative, brought to life through exceptional filmmaking and deeply committed performances, is all the more chilling because it is true. 

Salles chooses to tell the story from Eunice’s perspective, mirroring the book her son Marcelo wrote about her. The film is not only an exploration of the psychological torture inflicted by a ‘disappearance’ within a family but also an examination of the profound and irreversible changes it triggers in the lives of those left behind. It is difficult not to be moved by the shattering of a once-happy family. Yet, despite its emotional weight, the film could have been more effectively executed.

There is little suspense, even in moments that demand it, and while the story carries undeniable gravitas, it struggles with pacing. Some dragging sequences disrupt what should be a fluid narrative, and it becomes clear early on that I’m Still Here is unlikely to fully take off. The film leans into resilience and emotion but hesitates to push beyond that safe zone.

Torres, an actress of exquisite sensitivity who previously collaborated with Salles in Foreign Land (1995) and Midnight (1998), delivers a formidable performance as Eunice—a woman who transforms into a late-life lawyer and activist. She embodies Eunice’s moral integrity and quiet resistance, shielding her children while enduring immense pressure. Torres’ real-life mother, the legendary Fernanda Montenegro, portrays Eunice in her later years, reuniting with Salles after his acclaimed Central Station (1998).

The film reflects a dark page in Brazilian history, but because it’s too tidy and airtight, it fails to leave much of an impression by remaining in a passive state of subtlety.

Hard Truths (2025)

Direction: Mike Leigh
Country: UK

Written and directed by the great Mike Leigh (Naked, 1993; Vera Drake, 2004), Hard Truths is an acrid contemporary drama that explores depression and bitterness within an African-American family in England. Marked by the pragmatic, unflinching realism that defines much of Leigh’s work, the film centers on Pansy Deacon (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), an unsympathetic, deeply unhappy woman whose life is weighed down by trauma, extreme control, antagonism, and emotional isolation. Lonely, exhausted, and fearful, she makes life unbearable for her hardworking husband, Curtley (David Webber), and their indolent 22-year-old son, Moses (Tuwaine Barrett). The only person who can tolerate Pansy’s abrasive nature is her sister, Chantelle (Michele Austin).

Reuniting with Jean-Baptiste 28 years after Secrets & Lies—Leigh’s Palme d’Or-winning drama—the director presents a toxic home environment with no easy resolution. It’s an intense, at times overwhelming experience, more humiliating than humorous, and grappling with Leigh’s recurring theme: the sheer difficulty of living. Emotional suffocation, unrelenting tension, and pervasive sadness dominate the atmosphere, yet if ever a performance could redeem such bleakness, it is Jean-Baptiste’s.

At times, while carrying his love-it-or-hate-it penchant for directness, Leigh risks alienating the audience from his intent. However, he ensures that every emotional wound is laid bare with sharp clarity, granting his actors the freedom to improvise in a way that heightens the film’s authenticity. The good part is that he’s not afraid to show the ugliest moments of life, doing it without passing judgment.

September 5 (2024)

Direction: Tim Fehlbaum
Country: USA

In September 5, Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum (Tides, 2021) turns his lens to a harrowing event that shook the world of sports in 1972. During the 20th Summer Olympics in Munich, Palestinian terrorists known as Black September took a team of Israeli athletes hostage. Simultaneously, journalists and executives from ABC Sports were forced to interrupt their coverage of the competitions to broadcast the crisis live—a historic moment witnessed by 900 million people worldwide. 

This informative inside-room thriller borders on documentary, meticulously recreating a pivotal moment in television journalism. The film’s attention to detail is striking, particularly in its reconstruction of a fast-paced 1970s TV studio. Yet, it lacks dramatic punch, favoring simmering tension over raw emotion, and appearing slightly below its potential. 

That said, Fehlbaum effectively channels the spirit of 1970s American cinema in a classic way, raising questions about the media’s responsibility in real-time crisis reporting. While the story had the potential for grander impact, it remained somewhat unthrilling, especially for those familiar with the events.

The ensemble cast—including John Magaro, Peter Sarsgaard, Leonie Benesch, and Ben Chaplin—delivers solid performances, though no one truly stands out. Still, the film successfully explores journalistic ethics, weaving moral dilemmas and personal ambitions into its narrative with nuance and objectivity.