Lady (2026)

Direction: Samuel Abrahams
Country: UK

Lady is a hilarious, satirical mockumentary with trippy sequences and an artistically hyped-up vibe. The plot, co-written by first-time director Samuel Abrahams and Miranda Campbell Bowling, centers on Lady Isabella, superbly embodied by Sian Clifford (The Ballad of Wallis Island, 2025; Mother Mary, 2026), a reclusive aristocrat who considers herself a humanitarian, activist, muse, empath, and icon. Yet she grapples with a ton of vulnerabilities that a film crew, led by director Sam (Laurie Kynaston), easily detects while filming at her vast, luxurious stately home.

Reality mixes with surreality in this briskly edited film, where things take unexpected directions and proportions. I was delighted to see a director ignored by his own compulsive cameramen, forcing his film to be reassessed over and over again.
Lady is fascinatingly fun, filled with a series of embarrassing moments and deliberately overdramatic freak-outs.

The Weight (2026)

Direction: Padraic McKinley
Country: USA

The Weight marks a promising directorial debut by Padraic McKinley, who brings a confident sense of atmosphere and tension to a screenplay by Matthew Booi and Shelby Gaines. Set in 1933 Oregon, amid the hardships of the Great Depression, this historical drama combines rugged period detail with a compelling survival story, anchored by strong performances from Ethan Hawke, Russell Crowe, and Julia Jones.

Evoking the spirit of ’70s classics such as William Friedkin’s Sorcerer (1977), John Boorman’s Deliverance (1972), and Sydney Pollack’s Jeremiah Johnson (1972), the film follows single father Sam Murphy (Hawke), who is evicted, arrested, and forced to leave his young daughter in a children’s home. Sent to a labor camp, he soon reveals his cleverness, confidence, and resourcefulness, prompting warden Clancy (Crowe) to make him an irresistible proposition: smuggle bars of gold through the wilderness. More people become involved in the operation, but can they be trusted?

Laid out with pulse and atmosphere, The Weight is a gripping, taut, and effective western-style adventure thriller that puts McKinley on the list of filmmakers to watch in the future.

Tony (2026)

Direction: Matt Johnson
Country: USA

Matt Johnson’s biopic about celebrity chef and author Anthony Bourdain is neither superb nor particularly special, but rather a quite honest and comforting work. This real-life ballad delivered in a minor key begins with a lump in the throat and ends with a smile, pairing Dominic Sessa and Antonio Banderas as Bourdain and the quiet “chef” José Vatel, respectively, in 1975 Provincetown, Massachusetts. The film focuses not only on their boss-employee-turned-partnership relationship but also on the complicated romance between Bourdain and Nancy Putkowski (Emilia Jones).

Avoiding pathos and sentimentality, Johnson succeeds with an understated stylistic exercise that manages to blend a certain acerbic tone with a delicacy that is never feigned. Tony rightly entertains at a pleasantly superficial level. More than a technical feat, it’s a strong story with adequate dramatic power.

Blue Heron (2026)

Direction: Sophy Romvari
Country: Canada

In Sophy Romvari’s feature debut, Blue Heron, the life of a couple is brutally disrupted by the odd behavior of their oldest child. Set in the late 1990s, this semi-autobiographical drama explores the difficult crossroads of dealing with mental illness and self-harm.

Shot with an aching intimacy, the film acknowledges the impossibility of overcoming damage, leading to exhaustion, trauma, and permanent emotional distress. Both disappointment with psychological support and a pervasive sense of powerlessness are portrayed through childhood memories in which chaotic feelings ruin the summer.

Following her acclaimed short film Still Processing (2020), Romvari makes peace with the situation and herself through honest, realistic, and carefully considered filmmaking. Even with its deliberate ambiguity, Blue Heron successfully finds its own intense voice, heightened by the strong documentary feel present in every single gesture.

Sad Girlz (2026)

Direction: Fernanda Tovar
Country: Mexico

This understated, sensitive coming-of-age drama directed by Fernanda Tovar blends sexual trauma, sports, friendship, and youth. Everything is very subtle, yet runs very powerfully under the skin.

Two 16-year-old Mexican female swimmers, Paula (Darana Álvarez) and Maestra (Rocio Guzmán), maintain their routines with friends and seem excited about the possibility of competing in Brazil. Yet Paula struggles in silence after becoming a victim of sexual violence at a party. Her inner turmoil becomes temporarily masked but persistently present.

Tovar’s debut feature cuts like a knife, flawlessly performed by the pair of newcomer actresses.

The Great Arch (2025)

Direction: Stéphane Demoustier
Country: France

Inspired by true events that took place between 1983 and 1987, The Great Arch chronicles a pivotal and turbulent chapter in the life of Danish architect Johan Otto von Spreckelsen, compellingly portrayed by Claes Bang (The Square, 2017; The Northman, 2022). At the age of 53, Otto wins a prestigious Paris competition to design an ambitious and innovative structure: an open cube of glass and marble that would eventually become the Grande Arche. Pragmatic and self-assured, he quickly earns the admiration of French president François Mitterrand (Michel Fau), only to find himself ensnared in a web of speculation, bureaucratic obstacles, political maneuvering, and personal agendas fueled by the president’s adviser Subilon (Xavier Dolan). Teaming up with architect-turned-project manager Paul Andreu (Swann Arlaud), Otto faces mounting technical challenges, restrictive regulations, and shifting political realities that continually threaten the project’s completion.

Writer-director Stéphane Demoustier establishes an effective pace, allowing this attentive and highly accessible biographical drama to command our interest through a well-constructed narrative, assured visual storytelling, and strong performances. With a sly, almost mischievous sensibility, he captures the corrosive effects of human frustration while maintaining a firm grasp on the emotional stakes.

The Great Arch is not a film you can devour, but to be gradually devoured by. Never cold, never distant; only unsettling in the honesty with which it portrays governmental indifference and institutional obstruction. There’s something undeniably gripping about this realistic account of a visionary man slowly worn down by forces beyond his control.

All That's left Of You (2025)

Direction: Cherien Dabis
Country: Germany / Palestine / other

With a narrative spanning three generations—from 1948 to 2022—All That’s Left of You is a tragic drama with unmistakable political undertones, written and directed by Palestinian-American filmmaker Cherien Dabis, who also stars alongside the late Mohammad Bakri and his son Saleh Bakri.

Anchored by deeply convincing characters, the film portrays not only suffering, boundless sorrow, and resilience in the face of war as a daily reality, but also the difficult choices surrounding sensitive issues such as organ donation.

Through a discreet and unschematic approach to staging, Dabis finds emotional power in the tension between historical narrative and family melodrama, embracing a measured lyricism that never feels forced. The film’s greatest strength lies in its faith in humanity as a healing force, an outlook capable of melting even the most cynical hearts. Its storytelling is direct and assured, naturally intertwining collective history with intimate personal experience.

We are all familiar with the countless ways war dehumanizes individuals. Yet here, Dabis refuses to surrender to that inevitability. She never degrades her characters or fetishizes their suffering, choosing instead to foreground their dignity and capacity for hope. The transmission of trauma may be unavoidable, but compassion remains a vital source of relief. In All That’s left Of You, that compassion resonates long after the final scene.

Enzo (2026)

Direction: Robin Campillo
Country: Italy

Written by the late Laurent Cantet—known for The Class (2008) and Human Resources (1999)—and directed by his friend Robin Campillo, Enzo is a raw, powerful coming-of-age drama centered on a 16-year-old boy who needs desperately to find his place in the world and understand where he really belongs. He reaches a phase in his life where he tries to undecipher and adapt the best he can to a world of elusion. Immaculately portrayed by non-professional actor Eloy Pohu, Enzo, not without deep anguish and dramatic actions, gradually reveals more about his true self. 

The film, co-produced by Jacques Audiard and the Dardenne brothers, compellingly expresses when the intimate clashes with the social environment that surrounds you in this lucid, simmering tale that, despising closure, prefers to embrace openness instead. Precise yet delicate both in terms of script and acting, Enzo is original in content, far from the usual clichés, while its beauty lies in the simplicity and objectivity of its filmmaking.

Crossing their visions and filmmaking styles, Cantet and Campillo turn adolescent desire and family tension into a ferociously raw journey, succeeding in creating a visceral, sensitive, and jarring portrait of a teenager in crisis.

The Disappearance of Josef Mengele (2026)

Direction: Kirill Serebrennikov
Country: Germany / France / other

Russian filmmaker Kirill Serebrennikov (The Student, 2016; Petrov’s Flu, 2021) turns his gaze to Josef Mengele—the Auschwitz doctor infamously known as “The Angel of Death”—in his latest historical drama The Disappearance of Josef Mengele. Based on Olivier Guez’s non-fiction novel, the film traces Mengele’s later years as he evades capture under false identities in Buenos Aires, Paraguay, and Brazil. Magnificently embodied by August Diehl, the fugitive doctor receives a clandestine visit from his son, Rolf (), yet remains unrepentant, clinging to his ideological convictions until the end.

This is a deeply disturbing work that seeks not compassion but clarity, with Serebrennikov adopting an oppressive visual language shaped by extended takes, stark black-and-white imagery, tense legato scoring, and disorienting shifts in time and space. Departing from his usual formal lyricism, the director presents a remorseless figure haunted by the specters of his past with simmering intensity. At times chaotic—particularly in the inclusion of 8mm color sequences depicting the atrocities committed by Mengele and his collaborators—the film nonetheless reveals a cold, austere beauty in its portrayal of physical decay, mental deterioration, and ultimate isolation.

Though it might benefit from a tighter runtime, The Disappearance of Josef Mengele—sometimes unbearable, sometimes virtuosic—leaves a powerful, disorienting impression.

The Plague (2026)

Direction: Charlie Polinger
Country: USA

The Plague, a psychological horror drama centered on a youth water polo team, marks a convincing debut for writer-director Charlie Polinger, who received accolades in the Un Certain Regard section at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival. Delving into a neurotic pre-adolescence steeped in anxiety, the film draws from the director’s personal diaries written during a summer camp in 2003.

As an astute—if at times dreary—examination of youth culture within a sports camp setting, the film confronts uncomfortable realities such as bullying and the challenges of integrating into a new group. It is also notably atmospheric, ambiguous, and faintly bizarre, with a darkness that probes into grim, rarely explored emotional corners.

Polinger avoids sensationalism, maintaining a restrained, low-key approach, while the ensemble cast delivers strong performances. Young actors Everett Blunck and Kayo Martin are particularly remarkable, and a composed Joel Edgerton also contributes both on screen and as a co-producer. 

It’s a strange movie—one that may initially feel elusive in its appeal, yet gradually reveals its intrigue through lingering enigmas. A bolder ending might have elevated it further, but The Plague, carrying an unexpected emotional weight, emerges as a pleasant surprise.

Magellan (2026)

Direction: Lav Diaz
Country: Philippines / Portugal / other

Meticulously directed by Filipino filmmaker Lav Diaz (From What is Before, 2014; The Woman Who Left, 2016) and co-produced by Albert Serra, Magellan is an idiosyncratic, pseudo-epic historical film portraying the Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan. It reenacts his attempts to conquer and convert the spice lands to Christianity—notably Malacca in Malaysia (under the orders of King Manuel I of Portugal) and later the island of Cebu in the Philippines (in service of the Spanish crown)—in the 16th century. Magellan, compellingly embodied by Mexican actor Gael Garcia Bernal (Amores Perros, 2000; The Motorcycle Diaries, 2004; No, 2012), faces markedly different outcomes in these expeditions, the latter undertaken after leaving his pregnant wife Beatriz (Angela Azevedo) behind in Portugal.

Patiently narrated and beautifully photographed, the film makes extensive use of static shots that at times extend beyond necessity, juxtaposing the beauty of the landscape with the odiousness of human actions. It unfolds as an uneven, slow-burning saga of two hours and forty minutes, yet remains rich in historical detail and atmosphere, sustained by a hypnotic mise-en-scène in which the protagonist’s intransigence and creeping madness are keenly felt.

Lushly lensed and intensely cerebral, Magellan is both haunting and frustrating, quietly unsettling in its poetic and political power.

Blue Sun Palace (2025)

Direction: Constance Tsang
Country: USA

American filmmaker Constance Tsang makes a very positive impression with her feature directorial debut, Blue Sun Palace, a wistful contemporary drama starring seasoned Taiwanese actor Lee Kang-sheng—a frequent collaborator and first choice of acclaimed director Tsai Ming-liang—alongside Wu Ke-xi (The Road to Mandalay, 2016) and the still under-the-radar Haipeng Xu.

The story revolves around the unexpected bond between two Chinese migrants living and working in Queens, New York. Stricken by loss and loneliness, Cheung (Lee) and Amy (Wu) feel strangely connected after the murder of Didi (Xu), Cheung’s lover and Amy’s best friend. As their shared grief draws them closer, their emotional fragilities and lingering doubts complicate the connection.

Blue Sun Palace conveys a peculiar sense of belonging and displacement simultaneously, addressing solitude through intimate close-ups and melancholy imagery that sustains a solid narrative core. Absorbing in its languid rhythm, the film uses cultural nuance and contextual detail to explore imperfect relationships and the ways individuals cope with sudden tragedy.

Tsang’s screenplay unfolds organically, and her quiet, sometimes understated presentation of a tentative love story is wrapped in a transfixing mournful atmosphere. Gradually accumulating moments of compassion and somber revelation until it radiates painful loneliness, this offbeat and serious tale of love and death, infused with a dreamlike quality, reaches deep into genuine romantic longing. The mood lingers—recalling the cinema of Tsai Ming-liang—through a spare yet clear narrative approach that offers a poignant portrait of migrant life, likely to make viewers’ hearts beat in sync with its emotional cadence. On the strength of this observant and affecting work, Tsang’s future projects merit close attention.

Rebuilding (2025)

Direction: Max Walker-Silverman
Country: USA

Rebuilding is a melancholy, heartbreaking neo-western drama marked by deliberate pacing and a hopeful, emotionally resonant conclusion. Simple, sincere, and deeply human, it follows Dusty (Josh O’Connor), a divorced cowboy and father who loses his family ranch to a devastating wildfire in southern Colorado. Temporarily living in a trailer community at a government-run campsite with other dispossessed landowners, Dusty finds support in his neighbors and in his ex-wife Ruby (Meghann Fahy). His once busy days suddenly become heavy with anguish and inertia.

Some films take their time laying out the story and settling over the audience. This is one of them. Yet, thanks to Max Walker-Silverman’s focused and sensitive direction, as well as the impressive naturalness of the gifted and much sought-after Josh O’Connor—who recently stood out in Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind—the result is an emotionally charged account that never feels manipulative, transcending the sappier trappings of the genre. There is plenty of aching nuance, but the film remains generous and entirely legible in its sorrow.

This complexity of feeling, paired with formal sumptuousness, translates into deeply ingrained sadness but also genuine uplift as events shift toward cautious hope and new opportunity. Capturing more than just lavish backdrops and romantic sentimentality, Rebuilding is a tolerant, poetic, and realistic work that earns its place in contemporary American cinema.

Pillion (2026)

Direction: Harry Lighton
Country: UK / Ireland 

Harry Lighton’s confident feature debut, Pillion, adapts Adam Mars-Jones’s 2020 novel Box Hill, telling the story of an introverted, openly gay man (Harry Melling) who becomes the submissive companion of a seductive biker (Alexander Skarsgård), who turns him into a servant and sexual object. He accepts this role willingly until, one day, everything shifts. Lighton also draws inspiration from Kenneth Anger’s experimental short film Scorpio Rising (1963).

Relatively simple in concept but complex in detail, Pillion portrays an atypical relationship in which brutality and tenderness coexist. It is a well-written, carefully constructed, shape-shifting work guided by powerful, pitch-perfect performances from Melling and Skarsgård, both of whom excel in the face of demanding material.

Evocatively transgressive and unexpected, the convincing scenes accumulate emotional impact. Some elements are intentionally left unspoken, requiring the viewer to read between the lines of the characters’ behavior. This is neither a conventional crowd-pleaser nor a traditional romance, but something more unusual and less familiar. Lighton’s approach replaces sentimentality with mordancy, while razor-sharp wit appears in measured, well-timed doses. It makes a striking dramatic statement, boldly peculiar in nature, much like its characters.

Although not for everyone, Pillion is determined to be candid, boundary-pushing, and entertaining, weaving a carefully balanced dynamic that is controlled by neither character.

The Voice of Hind Rajab (2025)

Direction: Kaouther Ben Hania
Country: Tunisia / France

The third feature by Tunisian filmmaker Kaouther Ben Hania (Beauty and the Dogs, 2017; The Man Who Sold His Skin, 2020) is a powerful docudrama centered on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It chillingly portrays the assassination of six-year-old Palestinian girl Hind Rajab, who becomes trapped in a bullet-riddled car surrounded by Israeli tanks. Six members of her family died that day, as well as two paramedics who went to her rescue.

With this low-budget, oppressive, adrenaline-filled thriller, you are in for a few surprises. It is an enthralling examination and recreation of a horrific true event to which no one should remain indifferent. The concept is not new, but the horror and claustrophobia are deeply felt, with the film following stressed Red Crescent volunteers at a call center, desperately trying to save the wounded girl while navigating strict and complex protocols that, when they fail, intensify anguish, frustration, and emotional volatility.

Minimalist and focused, The Void of Hind Rajab hooks the viewer until the very last minute. We never leave the call center, we never see the victims, and yet the film sustains terrifying suspense. It is a war film without weapons and, simultaneously, a cry for peace. The real voice of young Rajab is used, amplifying tension and emotion, though some scenes feel overly staged. Ben Hania confronts us with the tragedy of war and our powerlessness in the face of such inhuman brutality.

Urchin (2025)

Direction: Harris Dickinson
Country: UK

Urchin, a pungent and desolate drama written and directed by debutant Harris Dickinson, confronts the trauma of abandonment, homelessness, and the brutal cycles of addiction and relapse with a realistic, sensitive touch. Unpolished by design and deliberately loose in structure, this compelling tale offers a painfully accurate portrait of addiction and failed rehabilitation. It rings true largely thanks to a fearless performance by Frank Dillane, who makes it unmistakably clear that surviving as a homeless junkie is an exhausting, corrosive existence. He carries the film on his back with gritty conviction, anchoring a work that may be rough around the edges but remains intoxicating absorbing.

Dillane plays Michael Wiltshire, a volatile drug abuser drifting through Dalston, East London, who violently assaults a man trying to help him. Following his release from jail, Michael is offered second chances and encounters new people who briefly suggest the possibility of change. But whether he can find happiness, stability, or even a sense of purpose remains painfully uncertain. What makes the character so unsettling is how Michael appears paradoxically both in love with and repelled by his own impulses and self-destructive behavior.

Urchin avoids the trappings of dour social realism, yet it does not flinch from exposing the devastating toll drugs take on individuals and those around them. Merciless and unsettling, it is a tightly focused indie drama perfectly scaled to the towering performance at its center. Dickinson announces himself as a filmmaker worth watching, and Dillane confirms a formidable talent whose future work deserves close attention.

Die My Love (2025)

Direction: Lynne Ramsay
Country: USA 

This raw, startlingly honest effort by Scottish filmmaker Lynne Ramsay (Ratcatcher, 1999; We Need to Talk About Kevin, 2011; You Were Never Really Here, 2017) comes charged with fury, following a young mother—superbly portrayed by Jennifer Lawrence—grappling with mental health struggles and postnatal depression. Set in rural Montana, the story unfolds across two time frames, incorporating flashbacks that gradually deepen our understanding of the character’s fragile psychological state.

Die My Love, both painful and exquisite, carries nuance and complexity even in its seemingly blunt title. It is a small yet shattering adult drama that plunges the viewer into a suffocating, harrowing psychosis that appears to offer no clear way out. Based on the 2012 novel of the same name by Argentine writer Ariana Harwicz, the film was co-produced by Martin Scorsese and co-stars Robert Pattinson, Sissy Spacek, and Nick Nolte.

Creatively shot, Die My Love demonstrates keen visual intelligence in service of a compelling narrative that foregrounds boredom, loneliness, and pervasive unhappiness. It leaves you powerless and contemplative, drawing the audience into a state of distress that mirrors that of its characters. The emotional impact is profound, offering a compassionate look at the unexplainable intricacies of life that can suddenly unravel everything. This film also stands as a remarkable showcase for Lawrence, who delivers an unparalleled performance. She and the rest of the cast maintain complete control over the material, while Ramsay never condescends to or sentimentalizes the subject.

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.

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.

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.