Blue Moon (2025)

Direction: Richard Linklater
Country: USA 

Richard Linklater—who also made the wonderful Nouvelle Vague this year—directs Blue Moon, a strong, impeccably staged biopic about the witty, technically sophisticated lyricist Lorenz Hart, who rose to prominence in the 1930s through his long collaboration with composer Richard Rodgers. Together, they created immortal jazz standards such as “Blue Moon”, “The Lady Is a Tramp”, “Manhattan”, and “My Funny Valentine”. The script by novelist Robert Kaplow—re-teaming with Linklater after Me and Orson Welles (2008)—offers more than enough to give us a precise sense of Hart’s personality and inner struggles.

Shot with controlled, precise camerawork, Blue Moon is beautifully rendered, anchored by powerhouse work from Ethan Hawke, who portrays the alcoholic lyricist with a mix of lively spark, reverence for beauty in all its forms, and deep poignancy. The narrative, set in 1934 New York, unfolds over one painful night at Hart’s favorite bar, capturing the bitterness of having to celebrate the massive success and rave reviews of Oklahoma!—Rodgers’ first Broadway show without him (this time collaborating with Oscar Hammerstein). At the same time, Hart confronts an abyss of despair as he feels used by his twenty-year-old protégé and production-designer-wannabe Elizabeth Weiland (Margaret Qualley).

Blue Moon sifts gently across a jazzy landscape with a heartfelt, sometimes bitter touch. Bursting with Hart’s sharp wit and mordant observations, the dialogue is a delight—inebriating, funny, sarcastic, and engrossing. The film’s visual and atmospheric formality may feel pronounced, but don’t let that deter you: this passionate account darts and hops with bracing energy, offering just enough depth to both warm and break your heart.

Observant in the way only Linklater can be, the film feels strikingly authentic and radiates a contagious pleasure. It is not a conventional biopic, but it’s cleverly attuned to emotional nuance, and that makes all the difference.

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.

The Substance (2024)

Direction: Coralie Fargeat
Country: USA

Coralie Fargeat’s sophomore feature, The Substance, is set to be hailed as the shock film of the year. A grotesque blend of body horror with sharp satirical overtones, it escalates in bizarre intensity until it reaches the brink of madness.

The film stars Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle, an aging TV star who injects a miraculous substance designed to unlock her DNA, creating a younger, more beautiful version of herself. That version is played with mischievous charm by Margaret Qualley. However, Sparkle fails to adhere to the crucial condition—switch bodies every seven days—and struggles to comprehend the delicate balance needed for both versions to coexist.

The pumped up narrative swirls us up in this woman's obsession, invoking the transgressive and visceral visual traits reminiscent of David Cronenberg and John Carpenter. At its best, the film maintains a tense and unnerving atmosphere, but just as it has you on the edge of your seat, it spirals into gratuitous violence and excessive gore.

Fargeat's creation is undeniably horrific, but she pushes it too far, especially in the final act. The relentless gore feels less like a narrative necessity and more like a transgressive indulgence, ultimately undermining the careful creepiness that initially made it gripping. The last section is so filthy and exaggerated that it risks alienating viewers, leaving one to wonder why the director chose to tarnish what could have been a chillingly effective film.

The Substance is nauseating but undeniably powerful, shocking yet audacious. It’s an outrageously bloodthirsty dark fantasy that demands a strong stomach. Had Fargeat reined in the excess, it could have been a standout horror. Nevertheless, both Moore and Qualley deliver striking performances.