Wild Diamond (2025)

Direction: Agathe Riedinger
Country: France 

Wild Diamond tells the story of Liane Pougy, a relentless 19-year-old influencer who dreams of joining a reality TV show at any cost. This character had already taken centre stage in director Agathe Riedinger’s 2017 short film J’Attends Jupiter. Now, Riedinger makes her directorial feature debut with a bold foray into the world of fame and social media—offering a sharp reflection of our times.

Liane (Malou Khebizi) lives in Fréjus, a French city that evokes both hedonistic leisure and the grit of English working-class towns. At home, she’s stuck with an emotionally distant mother—who regularly brings sugar daddies home—and a tender younger sister. She prays to Saint Joseph and considers buttock augmentation, clinging to an artificial glitter while impatiently chasing easy fame. Her growing despair drives her to take dangerous risks.

Khebizi is the true diamond of the film in a quite impressive first appearance on the big screen. Trapped between a glossy fantasy and a bleak reality, Liane is a portrait of someone whose biggest aspirations become the very obstacles to her happiness. Riedinger shoots in a confrontational, intimate style, using a 4:3 aspect ratio to heighten the rawness of the characters and setting. Yet, the film occasionally stumbles, with minor plot stagnation and a couple of distracting and ineffective on-screen texts.

By the end, it feels like we’ve only skimmed the surface—but Wild Diamond still hits a very specific bullseye. How it affects you will almost certainly depend on your current relationship with social media and reality television. Flaws aside, this is a film worth wrestling with—brimming with electricity, as if told through the fingertips.

Bring Her Back (2025)

Direction: Danny and Michael Philippou
Country: Australia

The Philippou Brothers, who stirred up some frisson with their debut Talk To Me (2022), strike again with Bring Her Back, finding further creepiness in morbid rituals and macabre video recordings. The story, co-written by Danny and Bill Hinzman, follows orphaned step-siblings Andy (Billy Barratt) and visually impaired Piper (first-timer Sora Wong). They are placed in foster care under the supervision of Laura (Sally Hawkins), a grief-stricken former counselor who becomes dangerously unhinged. She also cares for Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a sinister mute child insensible to pain.

More creepy than outright scary, Bring Her Back possesses a fierce brutality and visceral desperation that kept me watching. The Philippous have a gift for crafting atmospherics, establishing a sustained mood of uneasiness. They don’t shy away from the rough stuff, striving to bring extra layers to the genre, though leaving viewers emotionally drained in the process.

Hawkins, forever remembered for Mike Leigh’s comedy Happy-Go-Lucky (2008) and Del Toro’s fantasy The Shape of Water (2017), delivers a terrific first foray into horror. She even performs her own stunts here. Bring Her Back will probably stick in your gut for a little while, and don't be surprised if you walk away feeling hollow inside. This aggressively ferocious horror flick pushes cruelty to the edge, and is certainly not for the faint of heart.

Motel Destino (2024)

Direction: Karim Ainouz
Country: Brazil 

After experiencing Hollywood last year with the period drama Firebrand, filmmaker Karim Ainouz (Madame Satã, 2002; Invisible Life, 2019) returns to Brazil to helm Motel Destino, a mundane and sexually-charged neo-noir thriller that plays like a haunting phantasmagoria. While the script itself lacks depth, the film benefits from its sensory overload, visual experimentation, and a Coen Brothers-inspired score that evokes sinister western landscapes. 

Living in Ceará, Heraldo (Iago Xavier) plans to move to São Paulo but must first complete one last job for drug kingpin and local artist Bambina (Fabíola Líper). When things spiral out of control, he takes refuge in a seedy sex motel, aided by its owners: the restless Dayana (Nataly Rocha) and her volatile, voyeuristic husband, Elias (Fábio Assunção). 

There’s no pretentiousness or ego in the trio’s performances, and enough tension sustains interest until the film’s ultimately disappointing ending. Motel Destino is a vicious piece of work from a director unafraid to expose the primal, darker instincts of his characters. Unfortunately, this stylized erotic thriller is undermined by clumsy dialogue and a hastily executed conclusion. It offers a shallow cinematic experience that may not leave you breathless, but its darkness lingers like cement, and the tension between its sleazy content and neon-lit aesthetics is precisely where its power resides.

Holy Cow (2025)

Direction: Louise Courvoisier
Country: France 

Louise Courvoisier's feature debut, Holy Cow, is a sensitive coming of age tale set in Jura, a department in the Bourgogne-Franche-Comté region. Eighteen-year-old Totone (Clément Faveau) prefers hanging out and drinking with friends over helping his father on their cheese farm. But misfortune forces him to radically change his life. He finds solace in Marie-Lise (Maiwene Barthelemy), his first love, and in a newfound obsession: making the region’s best cheese.

The beauty of Holy Cow lies in its details as much as in the simplicity of its story, populated by genuine, believable characters. The nuanced performances from non-professional actors, the evocative use of location, and the sensitive script by Courvoisier and Théo Abadie elevates the film above many others in the genre.

The film’s humble nature and the setbacks faced by the protagonist never undercut its uplifting sense of satisfaction or its quiet celebration of romance and self-discovery. What’s perhaps most remarkable about Holy Cow is that it actually works in a quiet, unfussy way. There’s an honest emotional core in Courvoisier’s depiction of a teenager coming to terms with responsibility, morality, and friendship.

Viet and Nam (2025)

Direction: Minh Quy Truong
Country: Vietnam

Set in rural Vietnam in the year 2000, this malancholic and bucolic romantic drama is drenched in intermittent heavy rain, contemplating more than it discovers. Viet and Nam are two coal miners and lovers who dream of a different life abroad. Meanwhile, Nam’s mother obsessively searches for the remains of her husband, a casualty of the war, eventually crossing paths with a medium from the North.

Served by striking camerawork, Minh Quy Truong's second feature unfolds as a slow, profound excavation of a country’s lingering war wounds. Though ghostly and dreamlike, it weaves together queer romance, working-class struggle, historical trauma, grief, and spiritual longing. 

The film embraces a poetic, meditative style, with enigmatic flourishes and an eerie tranquility drawn from its rural landscapes. Its fluid sense of time and space recalls Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s cinema, albeit with a more grounded, objective gaze. The cast—composed of non-professional actors—delivers authentic, unembellished performances.

The film’s languid pacing and long, static 16mm shots may stretch its runtime, but Truong clearly trusts in the power of cinema and the viewer’s patience. Viet and Nam is a respectable film that can be moving in its infinite delicacy and quivering sensitivity—even if it doesn't entirely avoid the familiar traits of contemplative art-house cinema.

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. 

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.

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.

Sing Sing (2025)

Direction: Greg Kwedar
Country: USA

Sing Sing tells the story of Divine G (Colman Domingo), an inmate at the infamous high-security prison who finds solace and purpose in a theater program while serving time for a crime he didn’t commit. Inspired by true events, the film is directed by Greg Kwedar (Transpecos, 2016; Jockey, 2021), who once again collaborates with Clint Bentley on the script. Notably, several former prisoners who benefited from this artistic rehabilitation program appear in the cast, adding an extra layer of authenticity.

Sometimes heavy-handed, sometimes surprisingly fluid, the documentary-like drama is carried by Domingo, who portrays a man reclaiming a fragment of his lost humanity by daring to dream of a new life. Shot primarily with a shoulder camera, the film favors close-ups, capturing expressions steeped in regret and pain. Presented without artifice, Sing Sing follows a slow-burning script in which characters gradually reveal themselves—though the emotional impact doesn’t always land as powerfully as intended. 

A sort of Dead Poets Society within Shawshank, the film’s message of hope and friendship is intertwined with a stripped-down, minimalist theatricality that sometimes borders on the academic. While not particularly surprising in its execution, Sing Sing maintains a genuine human tone, packed with disillusion, frustration, and hope. It’s a serious work, though one that may be challenging to engage with as pure entertainment.

Exhibiting Forgiveness (2024)

Direction: Titus Kaphar
Country: USA

Exhibiting Forgiveness marks the directorial feature film debut of Titus Kaphar, an American contemporary painter who draws from his own life, deconstructing personal experiences to craft a thoughtful, if imperfect, drama. The film stars André Holland as Tarell, a talented Black painter haunted by the past. His beloved mother, Joyce (Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor), is terminally ill, and urges him to reconcile with and forgive his estranged father, La’Ron (John Earl Jelks), a former drug addict whose neglect and cruelty made Tarell’s childhood a nightmare. Together, father and son grapple with the painful truth that forgetting is often harder than forgiving.

With family trauma at its core, the film is ultimately about healing and finding a path forward. While occasionally tentative, it remains an honest and heartfelt melodrama that flickers with emotional depth, even if it never fully ignites. It is a small film in the best sense—intimate, personal, and rooted in the everyday struggles of ordinary people. However, the slow, restrained performances sometimes add more mannerism than poetry to this pursuit of happiness.

Kaphar’s screenplay, not being thin, is on the verge of collapsing on several occasions, leaving emotions in an embryonic state. However, a simmering tension is maintained, and the actors ultimately hold it together. Exhibiting Forgiveness is a movie at odds with itself, but that internal struggle is also its greatest strength.

Vermiglio (2024)

Direction: Maura Delpero
Country: Italy / Frane / Belgium

Vermiglio is a slow-burning yet largely compelling drama that thrives on its brooding atmosphere and tonal consistency. The title refers to a mountainous region where the harsh wintry landscape and limited resources underscore the hardships of wartime life.

Set in 1944, the film follows Pietro Riso (Giuseppe De Domenico), a deserting soldier who arrives in the village and falls in love with Lucia (Martina Scrinzi), the eldest daughter of the schoolteacher. Their love culminates in marriage, but fate, as often, proves unkind. Simultaneously, we witness the teacher's (Tommaso Ragno) personal struggles and the tribulations of two of his other children: Ada (Roberta Rovelli), tormented by guilt over impure thoughts and resorting to self-punishment, and Dino (Patrick Gardner), a wine-drinking boy who struggles academically.

Desolation and inertia permeate this powerful, well-acted tale, brought to life by Maura Delpero’s assured direction and elegantly composed visuals. Her meticulous gaze channels echoes of Anton Chekhov and Nuri Bilge Ceylan, prompting reflection on life’s quiet sorrows and joys. Despite the film’s languid pace and contemplative storytelling, Delpero persistently seeks and captures moments of humanity in her second foray into fictional filmmaking. The bittersweet Vermiglio earned the Grand Jury Prize at Venice.

The Room Next Door (2024)

Direction: Pedro Almodovar
Country: USA 

The Room Next Door proves to be a far better book than a movie. Celebrated Spanish director Pedro Almodóvar adapts Sigrid Nunez’s What Are You Going Through with conventional dialogue and a calm, polished dramatization that feels too cerebral to evoke powerful emotions.

Despite its heavy central theme, the film isn't a painful watch. It's poignant, occasionally depressing, yet also comforting as it portrays a touching relationship between two captivating characters who admire one another deeply. Ingrid (Julianne Moore), a celebrated author, unexpectedly reconnects with Martha (Tilda Swinton), a retired New York Times war journalist battling stage-three cervical cancer and undergoing experimental treatment. After a failed round of treatment, Martha makes a disconcerting request, asking Ingrid to be present in "the room next door" when she takes an euthanasia pill. Though troubled by the request, Ingrid agrees out of compassion and loyalty. 

The film boasts top-tier performances, though they cannot completely overshadow script oscillations and a certain stiffness in the dialogue. Almodóvar orchestrates the story with elegance, presenting a sober, aesthetically refined depiction that acknowledges the fragile beauty of life while delicately studying suffering. Themes of death, forgiveness, friendship, and regret unfold in a series of contemplations that often feel superfluous. The absence of surprising twists, dramatic friction, or even subdued intensity reveals a more restrained and simplistic Almodóvar, lacking the emotional weight of his past masterpieces. 

The weight of the film rests entirely on the shoulders of its exceptional actors, with Moore and Swinton—the latter delivering another remarkable double role—holding the film together with a genuine friendship supported in honesty and compassion. 
Failing to make a lasting, thought-provoking impression, The Room Next Door still has power, but not as much as it should. Blame the restrained aesthetics, light approach, and occasional conversational inelasticity.

A Real Pain (2024)

Direction: Jesse Eisenberg
Country: USA

A Real Pain, the sophomore directorial feature by Jesse Eisenberg, who also stars, focuses on two American Jewish cousins having a hard time to fully reconnect and deal with their feelings during a one-week trip to Poland to honor their late grandmother. David (Eisenberg), a devoted husband and father, is reserved, obsessive-compulsive, sentimental, and occasionally jealous. In contrast, Benji (Kieran Culkin) is a free-spirited, bluntly honest, impulsive, and depressive foil. While both are grateful for the shared journey, their genuine friendship is rife with tension and friction.

This seriocomic slice of life, penned by Eisenberg, feels effortlessly light, even as it navigates a series of awkward situations. However, the narrative structure is so sparse it often feels skeletal. Dramatic moments occasionally fail to reach their emotional apex, and the simplistic character psychology aligns with a script that seems designed more to gently entertain than to provoke or deeply resonate.

The premise dissipates quickly, leaving surface impressions that fluctuate between pleasantly whimsical and mildly moving. The film’s subdued emotional tone is further undercut by its ambiguous and bittersweet ending, which feels stagnant. What raises A Real Pain slightly above the mediocrity is its comic riffs—toggling between annoying and amusing—and the strong chemistry between Culkin and Eisenberg. The quirkiest thing about it is how much it spends in trivial details at the sound of Chopin’s melancholic nocturnes and waltzes. Not being particularly inventive or diverting, A Real Pain remains in tepid waters for most of its duration, and failed to move me in almost every aspect.

The Order (2024)

Direction: Justin Kurzel
Country: USA

In Justin Kurzel’s crime thriller The Order, Robert Matthews (Nicholas Hoult), a staunch neo-nazi affiliated with the Aryan Nations puts words into action, following the method described in the notorious book The Turner Diaries—authored by National Alliance founder William Luther Pierce—turning hateful rhetoric into violent action, and following its blueprint for armed revolution and assassination tactics. Declaring war on the federal government and engaging in domestic terrorism, Matthews faces off against Terry Husk (Jude Law in a muscular performance), a hardened, short-tempered FBI agent determined to dismantle the rise of white supremacy. 

Set in the early 1980s, the fact-based script by Zachary Baylin (King Richard, 2021; Creed III, 2023) combines historical authenticity with narrative urgency. Initially unfolding as a conventional thriller, the film gradually deepens into a darker exploration of extremism in a satisfying combination of genre thrills and real-life implications. It deftly captures the disturbing proximity between extremist ideologies and their violent manifestations, challenging viewers to confront these realities. 

Visually unremarkable and interspersed with bursts of repetitive action, The Order distinguishes itself through its compelling emphasis on character. Hoult and Law deliver intense performances that anchor the narrative, while Kurzel, known for Snowtown (2011) and Nitram (2021), demonstrates a measured approach to the sensitive subject matter. He skillfully balances the film's elements, allowing the actors to discover moments of nuance, rhythm, and vulnerability within the story. 

Equal parts unsettling and candid, The Order doesn’t quite transcend genre expectations, yet some may find curiosity in the way Kurzel explores the themes.

Small Things Like These (2024)

Direction: Tim Mielants
Country: Ireland / Belgium

Based on Claire Keegan’s best-selling novel, Small Things Like These is a poignant Irish film directed by Belgian filmmaker Tim Mielants (Patrick, 2019), with a screenplay by Enda Walsh, co-writer of Hunger (2008) alongside Steve McQueen. The film stars Cillian Murphy as Bill Furlong, a quiet and diligent coal merchant who uncovers a harrowing secret within his small town’s convent. The mother superior, Sister Mary (Emily Watson), attempts to buy his silence with Christmas gifts, but Bill remains haunted by what he witnesses during his deliveries. As the story unfolds, he confronts unsettling truths about his own past.

The film’s naturalistic treatment—marked by nuanced performances and understated direction—heightens the realism of a story that is quietly profound in its simplicity and austerity. While it lacks a traditional climax and occasionally struggles with languid pacing, the narrative resonates deeply as a restrained yet powerful exploration of Catholic institutional abuses. Unlike more sensationalist approaches, the film opts for a steady, somber tone, subtly gesturing toward the hope of change.

Mielants crafts a sincere, lugubrious historical drama suffused with disenchantment and anguish. It stands as a deeply humanistic work, highlighting the imperative of rescuing young victims from the cruelty of unsupervised religious institutions. However, the film occasionally stumbles upon its understated ambitions, with moments of narrative ennui and a tendency to leave its emotional potential underexplored.

I was touched in the end, but never got hooked during the narrative process. I wanted to feel more, I guess. Yet, the ones who stay with the film may find a quiet reward in its understated power.

Gladiator II (2024)

Direction: Ridley Scott
Country: USA 

Ridley Scott cements his reputation as a master of epic cinema with Gladiator II, an arguably unnecessary but undeniably entertaining action spectacle that revels in physical clashes and dramatic intensity. Written by David Scarpa, this sequel introduces Paul Mescal as Lucius Verus Aurelius, the son of Maximus (played by Russell Crowe in the original).

Fifteen years after Maximus’ death, Lucius returns to a corrupt Rome after the Roman army's brutal campaign in Numidia, North Africa. Haunted by the murder of his wife, he vows vengeance, reconnects with his mother, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), and finds himself under the tutelage of Macrinus (Denzel Washington), a former slave with ambitions to rule Rome. 

While it breaks no new ground narratively, this colossal production builds momentum as it unfolds, eventually drawing viewers into its dramatic core. It is a visceral, blood-soaked exploration of power, war, revenge, and emancipation, holding the audience captive with its steamy visuals and audacious premise. The fight sequences erupt with the force of a volcano, and Scott elicits compelling performances from his cast. 

Despite its shortcomings, Gladiator II delivers a full-bodied adventure that skillfully balances responsiveness to its audience’s expectations with a reverence for the epic grandeur of its predecessor.

The Count of Monte Cristo (2024)

Direction: Matthieu Delaporte, Alexandre de La Patellière
Country: France 

For their third feature film, French filmmakers and screenwriters Matthieu Delaporte and Alexandre de La Patellière take on Alexandre Dumas’ classic The Count of Monte Cristo, a sweeping tale of love, tragedy, and revenge.

With its meticulous period details, lush settings, and an old-fashioned approach to storytelling, this grand production delivers visual flair but falls short in generating excitement, suffering from a lack of surprises. While this tame, three-hour adaptation replaces some characters and unfolds with formal, somewhat academic staging, it nonetheless secured a strong position at the French box office.

Pierre Niney (Frantz, 2016; Yves Saint Laurent, 2014) is appropriately earnest as Edmond Dantès. Wrongfully imprisoned and later escaping from a remote island prison, Dantès orchestrates a calculated revenge against the three men—Danglars, Gérard de Villefort, and Fernand de Morcerf—who destroyed his life. 

It’s a constant battle between polished images and undramatic sequences that could be better matured. Still, there's still something to ponder about the vengeful Count tale that's worth pondering. If nothing else, this adaptation serves as a nostalgic reminder that, on occasion, they still make movies like they used to.

My Old Ass (2024)

Direction: Megan Park
Country: Canada

Megan Park’s sophomore directorial feature, My Old Ass, is a refreshingly spontaneous coming-of-age comedy that captures the vibrant, messy tapestry of teenage life with authenticity and warmth. At the heart of the film is a breakout performance by Canadian singer and actress Maisy Stella, making her feature film debut after her time on the musical television series Nashville.

Stella is Elliott, an 18-year-old who, during the course of a mushrooms trip, has contact with her 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza). What begins as a quirky exchange of life advice quickly becomes a heartfelt exploration of self-discovery, as Elliott grapples with the rebelliousness of youth and the unpredictable outcomes of love. 

Sweet but not cheesy, the film stands out for its originality and relatable charm. While it may not reinvent the teen rom-com genre, it handles themes like sexual orientation with a light, natural touch, brimming with hopefulness, self-discovery, and a sense of wonder about life and love.

Park, who impressed audiences with The Fallout in 2021, opts for simplicity, focusing on genuine human connection. This approach succeeds largely due to the chemistry of her leads, with Stella’s Elliott beautifully complemented by Percy Hynes White’s performance. My Old Ass is a gutsy and endearing ode to youth, a well-crafted tale of living life to its fullest and confronting the inevitable fear of loss. It’s an enjoyable, life-affirming watch that will leave you smiling, even if its charm is more fleeting than indelible.

Conclave (2024)

Direction: Edward Berger
Country: UK / USA

From Andrew Berger, the German director behind the multi-award-winning anti-war epic All Quiet on the Western Front (2022), Andrew Berger, comes the more subdued Conclave. This religion-themed thriller, penned by Peter Straughan and based on Robert Harris’ 2016 novel, delves into the shadowy world of Vatican politics. Ralph Fiennes takes the lead as Cardinal-Dean Thomas Lawrence, a man grappling with a personal crisis of faith while tasked with overseeing the papal conclave following the pope's sudden death.

As the slow and ritualistic process of selecting the new leader of the Catholic Church unfolds, Lawrence encounters a web of secrets, conspiracies, prejudice, and ambition. Among the candidates vying for the position, one figure stands out: Vincent Benitez (Carlos Diehz), a little-known Mexican archbishop stationed in Kabul, whose presence stirs unease and curiosity among the cardinals.

Cocooned in gravitas and profound doubt, Conclave thrives on the nuanced performances of its  seasoned cast. Fiennes, for example, not only chews the scenery but savors it, as he expresses deep concern about the future of the church with Stanley Tucci and Isabella Rossellini offering strong supporting turns. 

Although not particularly groundbreaking in its clash of modernity and tradition within the Church, the film at least never commits the deadliest sin in cinema: boredom, providing enough good material to keep its iniquitous fires burning. Yet, this gun-free thriller—effectively blending faith, tradition, and politics—could have been even more gripping if infused with more scandal, intrigue, and mystery. Ultimately, your enjoyment of Conclave may depend on your perspective on its themes.