Weapons (2025)

Direction: Zach Cregger
Country: USA

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

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

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

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

Sorry, Baby (2025)

Direction: Eva Victor
Country: USA

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

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

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

The Naked Gun (2025)

Direction: Akiva Schaffer
Country: USA

Shot in 35mm with a nostalgic nod to the ’80s and ’90s, The Naked Gun returns for another unnecessary chapter in the police-parody franchise—this time centering on Frank Drebin Jr., played by Liam Neeson, son of the legendary detective lieutenant Frank Drebin Sr., immortalized by the late Leslie Nielsen across three films. Directed and co-written by Akiva Schaffer, with scripting help from Dan Gregor and Doug Mand—the duo behind his live-action/animated comedy Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers (2022)—the film tries to rekindle old glory with mixed results.

Following in his father’s chaotic footsteps, Drebin Jr., now the LAPD’s zaniest cop, foils a bank robbery with unorthodox (if spectacular) methods. Soon after, he’s pulled into investigating the mysterious car crash that killed software engineer Simon Davenport. Suicide or murder? His sister Beth (Pamela Anderson) is convinced it’s the latter. 

While the premise has the seeds of something playful, The Naked Gun is a campy comedy that rarely lands its jokes. No wonder that David Zucker, who directed the first two installments of the saga, declined to produce the movie, calling it “substandard” after reading the script.  A few glimmers of humor surface early on, but they quickly fade under weak writing and flat performances. What’s left is a limp, witless spoof so overcooked in silliness it borders on painful. 

Eddington (2025)

Direction: Ari Aster
Country: USA

American writer-director Ari Aster ventures into new territory with Eddington, following two unforgettable entries in horror—Hereditary (2018) and Misdommar (2019)—and the far-fetched psychological black comedy—Beau is Afraid (2023). Eddington is a disturbing neo-western set in the fictional small town of Eddington, New Mexico, during the Covid era. Its bleakly comic vision of America’s violent culture unfolds through Joaquin Phoenix—in his second collaboration with Aster—who plays a lawless, asthmatic sheriff spiraling out of control after deciding to run for mayor. Emma Stone plays his moody, cult-bewitched wife, while Pedro Pascal portrays his progressive political rival.

The film is uneven, often veering into excessive satire, but it’s also sparked by occasional flashes of inventive twists. The plot takes on the form of a hallucinatory nightmare, saturated with sardonic humor and sharp social commentary—an uncomfortable, potent reminder that alienation is here to stay. Aster channels the spirit of the Coen brothers to portray a vortex of collective American madness. The viewer is submerged in a world of protests, lies, opportunism, manipulation, humiliation, conspiracies, obsession, crime, and cults. The pervasive restlessness and instability of the characters mirror today’s chaotic reality.

Unfortunately, the film loses steam and unravels after the madcap chase that marks its violent climax. Still, we forgive Aster, who, despite the narrative decline, delivers full-throttle filmmaking in what stands as his most overtly political work to date.

Eden (2025)

Direction: Ron Howard
Country: USA

Eden, a survival thriller based on a true story and directed by Ron Howard (A Beautiful Mind, 2001; Frost/Nixon, 2008), boasts an impressive ensemble cast that includes Jude Law, Sydney Sweeney, Vanessa Kirby, Ana de Armas, and Daniel Brühl. But even with that star power drawing audiences to theaters, they’re unlikely to leave fully satisfied. 

The scrip by Noah Pink explores rising tensions among early European settlers on Floreana Island in the Galápagos. The year is 1929. Reclusive Dr. Friederich Ritter (Law), a semi-renowned German philosopher, and his wife Dora (Kirby), who suffers from multiple sclerosis, savor their isolated life. Ritter is busy crafting a new philosophy he believes will save humanity from itself. Their solitude is soon disrupted by the arrival of the Wittmers (Brühl and Sweeney), followed by the flamboyant and deceitful French baroness Eloise von Wagner-Bousquet (de Armas, in her most irritating role yet) and her two companions. Her dream? To build a luxury hotel for millionaires on the island.

Howard’s unwieldy, cynical screen adaptation is over-staged and draped in noir tones. It’s a little too uneven to match the heights of the director's best work. Although watchable, the film veers into ludicrousness, culminating in spiraling chaos and a burst of physical and psychological violence. With a dark, overarching theme, this propulsive if shapeless tale feels as much flaccid as it is unfocused. Eden is such a mixed bag.

Pavements (2025)

Direction: Alex Ross Perry
Country: USA

The greatness of the American indie rock band Pavement is not matched by this fragmented, experimental docufiction written, co-produced, and directed by Alex Ross Perry. The director of Queen of Earth (2015) and Her Smell (2018) opts for an uninspired artistic approach, where actors portray the musicians, a group of performers rehearse and stage a musical set to Pavement’s songs, and a museum tribute to the band catches everyone—including the band members—off guard.

Briskly edited, the film plays like a disjointed collage that is more tedious than exiting. The actual story of the band is entirely eclipsed by these misguided artistic ambitions. The only aspect that offered a hint of interest was the contrast between the irreverence of youth and the band’s more cerebral, detached presence today. There’s an overuse of split screens, overlapping sounds, chaotic movements… 

Sadly, Pavements fails to do justice to Stephen Malkmus and his unforgettable band.

The Life of Chuck (2025)

Direction: Mike Flanagan
Country: USA 

Adapted from a Stephen King’s short story, Mike Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck shows a genuine interest in its profound themes, emerging as a funny, uncynical, and humanist apocalyptic comedy-drama with a beautiful message. The film is divided into three parts, each exploring a different period in Chuck's life, with distinct aesthetics, tone, and aspect ratio. Told in reverse order, the story is structurally triumphant, channeling Jordan Peele, Damien Chazelle, and Frank Capra, as the initial apocalyptic section gives way to a jubilant five-minute dance scene followed by a moving coming-of-age drama.

Tom Hiddleston (Archipelago, 2010; Thor: Ragnarok, 2017) stands out from the cast, delivering a magnetic performance full of charisma, while Flanagan handles it all in a disarmingly compelling way. With tact, tenderness, and a contagious sense of rhythm, The Life of Chuck has that rare ability to root itself in the viewer’s mind, gracefully alternating between levity and emotional weight, and embracing the importance—and power—of living life to its fullest.

Despite some classicism in the staging, the film never weakens because the story is truly special. It’s a lusciously gentle journey through a life of a common man, evoking familiar tones while offering its own distinctive touch.

Thunderbolts (2025)

Direction: Jake Schreier
Country: USA

Thunderbolts*, the 36th installment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, assembles a group of disillusioned misfits—most of them tired of cleanup duty. Among them are Yelena Belova, her father Alexei Shostakov (Red Guardian), John Walker (Steve Rogers’ controversial successor as Captain America), Ava Starr (Ghost), Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier), and the fragile, amnesiac Bob Reynolds, who unexpectedly emerges as a serious threat. Together, they must navigate the hidden agenda of CIA Director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus, reprising her role from Black Widow and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever), whose office is now under scrutiny.

Directed by Jake Schreier (Robot & Frank, 2015), the film offers its strong cast opportunities to shine. However, the script—penned by Marvel regular Eric Pearson (Thor: Ragnarok, 2017; Black Widow, 2021) and Joanna Calo (The Bear)—lacks imaginative spark. This is a different kind of Marvel entry, clearly aimed at attracting a fresh audience. The result is an imperfect yet visually and tonally consistent work—where not everything is fixed, but everything feels slightly patched up. Is it fun? Yeah, sort of. But still not especially memorable.

F1: The Movie (2025)

Direction: Joseph Kosinski
Country: USA 

Directed by Joseph Kosinski (Oblivion, 2013; Top Gun: Maverick, 2022) from a screenplay by Ehren Kruger, and co-produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, British F1 pilot Lewis Hamilton, and Brad Pitt—who stars as fictional pilot Sonny Hayes—F1: The Movie blends thrilling races, bland romance, overdramatic celebrations, and crooked deals. 

There’s nothing particularly new or noteworthy in this ultra-formulaic car action flick that goes nowhere fast. We follow fearless yet reckless veteran driver Sonny Hayes (Pitt), a gambling addict, as he joins a nearly bankrupt team at the invitation of owner and former teammate Ruben Cervantes (Javier Bardem). Sonny quickly challenges everyone—“Who’s fighting? I’m racing!”—including his new teammate, the prodigiously talented rookie Joshua Pearce (Damson Idris), who becomes his chief rival.

While some racing scenes do deliver the adrenaline, the narrative rarely hits top gear, as the script struggles to make its dramatic beats land. This monstrous commercial blockbuster has a vigorous start, ultimately running out of gas and disintegrating into uneven pieces. The soundtrack by Hans Zimmer—a combination of classical and electronic elements—didn’t convince, contributing to the film’s general stodginess.

The Shrouds (2025)

Direction: David Cronenberg
Country: USA 

David Cronenberg wrote The Shrouds in response to the death of his wife in 2017. Despite this deeply personal origin, the film’s uninspired delirium begins with a promisingly tense atmosphere only to unravel into something muddled and ultimately hollow. The Canadian filmmaker returns to his signature obsessions—mutilation fused with macabre romanticism, fixation on death and the body, espionage, and futuristic technology. eXistenZ (1999) and Crash (1996) naturally come to mind, yet this time the concoction feels undercooked, lacking soul, coherence, and genuine emotional weight.

The plot follows an inconsolable corpse voyeur (Vincent Cassel, in his third collaboration with Cronenberg) who harbors a disturbing fascination with his late wife’s body and cemeteries. However, the story quickly gets bogged down in contrived, exhausting dialogue and stilted staging. Delivered at a glacial pace, the bland narrative nearly lulled me to sleep. Adding to the confusion is the film’s tech subplot, clouded by mysterious hackers and vague conspiracy theories involving Chinese and Russian corporations.

Whatever suspense the film tries to build evaporates almost instantly. What a futile and misguided movie this is! - certainly one of Cronenberg’s biggest flops to date. At 82, one has to wonder if Cronenberg has lost his touch—both in direction and in his ability to truly engage the viewer, as mortuary enigma mutates into incoherent drivel.

Materialists (2025)

Direction: Celine Song
Country: USA

Materialists, the sophomore feature from Canadian helmer Celine Song, is a romantic excursion where love can be negotiated like a business deal. Not as irresistible as Song’s debut Past Lives (2023) and perhaps a bit too safe in its proceedings, Materialists is nonetheless rich in, character, dilemmas, and conflicts that spark debate about life’s priorities. Its message feels particularly timely.

The plot centers on Lucy (Dakota Johnson), a young, charming, and successful New York matchmaker who finds herself entangled in a love triangle. A serious incident involving one of her elite clients deeply affects her, forcing a drastic shift in her life. Her suitors, Harry (Pedro Pascal) and John (Chris Evans), represent two opposing paths—wealth and comfort versus love and sacrifice.

Shot in 35mm, Materialists may lose some momentum toward the ending, but remains a finely crafted piece well worth seeking out. We’ve seen films like this before, but rarely have they looked or felt quite like this. Song, a thoughtful filmmaker with meaningful insights on relationships—past and present—ticks off every box on the film’s agenda and wraps it up with a big smile. This is not a backward step for the director, who portrays a transactional dating ecosystem with both realism and cleverness.

The Phoenician Scheme (2025)

Direction: Wes Anderson
Country: USA

In his latest feature, The Phoenician Scheme, Wes Anderson takes aim at capitalism without morals, blending slapstick and absurdism in a live-action espionage comedy suffused with sumptuous visuals and imaginative scenarios marked by his signature symmetry. Co-written with Roman Copolla and dedicated to his father-in-law, Lebanese businessman Faoud Malouf, the film was primarily shot at Babelsberg, the world's oldest film studio, and boasts an impressive cast led by Benicio Del Toro, Kate Winslet’s daughter Mia Threapleton, and Michael Cera. 

Zsa-Zsa Korda (Del Toro), a cunning, wealthy industrialist, has survived multiple plane crashes and assassination attempts. Wanted for fraud, he is a man of countless schemes and grand projects for the Phoenicia region. He designates his daughter Liesl (Threapleton), a 21-year-old nun, as the sole heir to his empire.

The story zigzags between relentless assassins—all former employees of Korda—infiltrators, double agents, betrayals, revolutionary guerrilla robberies, mysterious shoeboxes, and a hilariously odd basketball competition. The dialogues are surprisingly witty, and Anderson’s cinematic universe is stylized to reflect his unique whims. The Phoenician Scheme may not fully achieve the greatness it aspires to, but it offers a relentlessly stylish parade of comic characters—certainly a more charming, funny, and captivating experience than Anderson’s previous dull feature Asteroid City (2023). At least here, I remained invested in the characters, in a film propelled by an atypical rhythm and enlivened by an unapologetic “cartoon” sensibility. 

Framed by fragmented twists, it doesn’t always land both narratively and comically, but its flashes of darkness bring a welcome novelty to a burlesque depiction of society that questions our times with explosiveness and wild madness.

Sinners (2025)

Direction: Ryan Coogler
Country: USA

Sinners—a wildly entertaining film that, while echoing many others, ends up unlike anything you've seen—marks the fourth collaboration between director Ryan Coogler (Creed, 2015; Black Panther, 2018) and actor Michael B. Jordan. It’s far from the conventional blockbuster one might expect, fusing themes of segregation and racism with vampire lore, gangster drama, and religious undercurrents, all orchestrated with a sense of direction that is both bold and disarming.

Set in Clarksdale, Mississippi, in the early 1930s, the story follows gangster twins Stack and Smoke (Jordan excels in the dual role), who return from Chicago and take their young cousin Sammie Moore (Miles Caton)—the son of a preacher and an aspiring blues musician—under their wing. They purchase a sawmill from a Ku Klux Klan member and convert it into a juke joint. On its opening night, the venue is suddenly overrun by vampires.

Resembling a smart mash-up of Dee Rees’ Mudbound and Robert Rodriguez's From Dusk Till Dawn, Sinners occasionally takes bold stylistic detours with flashes of modernity, culminating in a feverish crescendo that evokes some of the most iconic action and vampire films. It may not send chills down your spine, but it's a thrill ride—bolstered by confident performances, a compelling recreation of the 1930s American South, and impressive special effects. It also lands like a slap to the face in terms of musical impact.

Coogler’s achievement is also technical—the film was shot in two distinct formats—and the vampire parable it weaves feels more timely and relevant than it initially appears.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

Nickel Boys (2024)

Direction: RaMell Ross
Country: USA

Based on Colson Whitehead’s 2019 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, Nickel Boys, is a poignant historical drama directed and co-written by RaMell Ross in his narrative feature debut. The film follows two young Black men struggling to survive the brutal realities of a Florida reformatory school in the 1960s. Inspired by the real-life Nickel Academy—a segregationist institution notorious for its systemic abuse—the story unfolds with a raw, unflinching perspective. 

Presented from a first-person point of view, this tough-minded film thrives on exquisitely composed imagery that both stimulates the senses and piques curiosity. Ross employs a distinct filmmaking intensity, one that encourages viewers not just to watch, but to observe and feel deeply. Echoing the works of Terrence Malick, Charles Burnett, and Barry Jenkins, he approaches youth incarceration with a fiercely personal and devastating lens. 

Not being an easy watch, Nickel Boys offers an impressionistic view of a tragic experience, covering predictable ground with an admirable sense of artistry and a fair dose of sincerity.