Frankenstein (2025)

Direction: Guillermo Del Toro
Country: USA

Guillermo del Toro adapts Mary Shelley’s classic novel with little distinction. One cannot deny the pictorial beauty of certain scenes, but at no point was I able to connect with the film emotionally. This deceptive, CGI-laden spectacle—split into two amorphous chapters—is weak and unsurprising, lacking coherence in several places.

The story follows the immodest, self-centered, and tenacious scientist Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac), whose fierce response to the death of his beloved mother leads him to create an immortal, abominable beast with a soul. The tragic creation—an assemblage of body parts—soon becomes his near-undoing. The monster, played by Jacob Elordi, is not his only source of torment: his brother’s fiancée, Elizabeth (Mia Goth), develops a strange fascination with the creature.

The film’s mechanical execution erases the chilling allegorical power of the myth, while the early de-monstrification and later over-intellectualization of the beast drain the narrative of potency. Feeling more pathetic than frightening, this Frankenstein is a spectacular misfire on all fronts, its flamboyant gothic hues unable to save it from collapse. Del Toro adds a few uninteresting flourishes rather than breathe new life into a story told innumerable times. By downplaying key aspects of the novel, he assembles a needlessly loud mess—one badly in need of stitches.

Hedda (2025)

Direction: Nia da Costa
Country: USA

Adapting Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler for the screen, Nia DaCosta delivers a pretentious period tale with an unsatisfying finale. The film’s eccentric rhythms prove insufficient to buoy an overstuffed plot marked by intrigue, machinations, and insincere pathos.

The film stars Tessa Thompson—who also co-produces—as the title character, a strong-willed, manipulative socialite interrogated about a shooting that occurred at her lavish party. It is at this same gathering that she is reunited with a former lover, the alcoholic writer Eileen Lövborg (Christian Petzold’s early muse Nina Hoss), and the latter’s new girlfriend, Thea Ellison (Imogen Poots), whom Hedda knows from her school years. Jealousy, overpowering egos, desire, and bourgeois feminine dominance all play into this slyly playful yet misbegotten game, a muddle made worse by the smug self-assurance of its mise-en-scène.

Awkward and atonal, Hedda feels like one of Cassavetes’ fervent dramas but without the genuine discomfort or emotional and psychological acuity that defined them. It is excessively dramatic, emotionally inaccessible, and ultimately absurd. The disparity between expectation and delivery is vast, resulting in a wholly doomed film that insists on putting on a brave face throughout its subpar staging. It may leave you wanting to take a long, cold shower afterward.

Sunfish (& Other Stories on Green Lake) (2025)

Direction: Sierra Falconer
Country: USA 

Executive produced by Joanna Hogg (The Souvenir, 2019), Sunfish (& Other Stories on Green Lake) is a soulful five-vignette anthology directed by newcomer Sierra Falcone. The semi-autobiographical film, built around coming-of-age themes, follows a 14-year-old girl who discovers a love of sailing while staying with her grandparents after her mother’s recent remarriage; a young violinist striving to excel at a summer music camp under the pressure of his ambitious mother; a brief, tragic romance between a dreamy fisherman and a rebellious young woman; and the deep bond between two sisters who run a bed-and-breakfast on Michigan’s Green Lake.

Through carefully framed shots and a cohesive ensemble cast, Falcone tackles mature themes while maintaining a gentle patina of softness across the film. There is a generosity of spirit and a sense of lived experience that lift Sunfish above more conventional indie dramas. The screenplay’s objectivity and simplicity may frustrate viewers seeking denser plotting, but Falcone has an undeniable gift for tuning into deftly tactful wavelengths, rendering each story with a delicate, warm sensibility.

These modest, uncynical tales make space for compassion—occasionally moving, never manipulative. The actors bring nuance and vitality, often adding just when the film seems to risk subtracting from itself.

The Smashing Machine (2025)

Direction: Bennie Safdie
Country: USA 

In his first film without his brother Josh, Bennie Safdie (Daddy Longlegs, 2009; Uncut Gems, 2019) turns to the true story of former wrestler and MMA fighter Mark Kerr, reconstructing key events—between 1997 and 2000—of his professional and personal life with with the relaxed, comfortable posture of an alternative sports biopic. Safdie casts Dwayne Johnson—here boasting an intimidating, Herculean presence—in the lead role, with Emily Blunt as Kerr’s selfish yet intermittently supportive girlfriend. Double-time Bellator MMA champion Ryan Bader appears as Kerr’s best friend Mark Coleman, while Dutch MMA former champion Bas Rutten, who trained Kerr in real life, plays himself.

Buoyed by terrific lead performances, The Smashing Machine avoids pushing the drama into radical territory, instead adopting a mildly superficial stance toward adversity. Although well shot, the fighting scenes lack visceral bite and could have carried more tension. Ultimately, this is a compact, low-key film that resists showiness. Safdie—who also wrote, produced, and edited—doesn’t inject new life into the familiar framework. It’s Johnson, vigorously supported by Blunt, who keeps the film afloat with a ferocious, career-expanding performance, breaking free from his usual screen persona and delivering a convincing portrayal of Kerr in a successful turn toward dramatic acting.

The Smashing Machine, overshadowed by John Hyams’ 2002 documentary of the same name, sometimes feels like a re-enacted documentary, following a classic, predictable narrative path. It’s a minor biopic with a satisfying retro flavor—one we watch without either great enthusiasm or boredom.

One Battle After Another (2025)

Direction: Paul Thomas Anderson
Country: USA

It’s always a thrill when the virtuosic American helmer Paul Thomas Anderson (Magnolia, 1999; There Will Be Blood, 2007; The Master, 2012) steps behind the camera. His latest work, One Battle After Another, is a provocative, incendiary epic action thriller that grips the viewer from the first frame to the last. Loosely inspired by Thomas Pynchon’s 1990 postmodern novel Vineland, the film follows the turbulent path of Ghetto Pat (Leonardo DiCaprio), an ex-revolutionary, radical activist, and explosive device expert who is forced out of hiding after 16 years to protect his teenage daughter (newcomer Chase Infiniti) from a vile enemy, Colonel Steven Lockjaw (Sean Penn). 

Delivered with heart, precision, and unrelenting momentum, the film never loses its grip, keeping us on the edge of our seats. By portraying a relentless battle against fascism and white supremacists, the film comes as an unexpected breath of life, resonating intensely in a tense, fractured America. 

Depicting chaos with both rigor and dark humor, the film channels a particular strain of madness that feels all too familiar in our times. It also marks a landmark first collaboration between Anderson and DiCaprio, who inhabits his role with startling freedom, intensity, and conviction. Penn, meanwhile, delivers one of his most venomous turns in years—an embodiment of egotism, malice, and hatred.

With the cast in peak form, a notable score by Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood, and Anderson’s masterful writing and direction, the two hours and forty minutes of One Battle After Another fly by. It’s a breathtaking achievement—visceral, intelligent, and electrifying cinema at its finest.

Killing Faith (2025)

Direction: Ned Crowley
Country: USA

Killing Faith, a supernatural western written, directed, and co-produced by Ned Crowley (Middle Man, 2016), struggles to convince despite solid performances from Guy Pearce, DeWanda Wise, and Bill Pullman, as well as a moody, intriguing premise. It’s a difficult film to champion.

The story follows Dr. Bender (Pearce), an emotionally torn physician who agrees to escort Sarah Worthington (Wise)—a recently freed slave—and her allegedly possessed white daughter (Emily Ford) across the West to seek a reclusive faith healer (Pullman). Their journey is fraught with peril: outlaws, a bizarre family, and an inscrutable Native American chief all cross their path before the trio reaches their mysterious destination.

Sticking to a solid mainstream moviemaking, Crowley crafts his story with darkly comedic touches and a mild supernatural bend. Yet, the film’s eerie tone goes disastrously wrong, marred by a sluggish plot that promises more than it delivers. 

Entering in psycho-religious mode but obliterating any potential nuances or characterization work in the process, Killing Faith’s intriguing concept dissolves into arrhythmic storytelling and monotonous execution. A frustrating case of a film working against its own best ideas.

Lurker (2025)

Direction: Alex Russell
Country: USA

Alex Russell’s debut feature, Lurker, is a sharp, unsettling study of competitive environments, the hunger for attention, obsessive fantasy, and emotional manipulation. Shot in textured 16mm, it unfolds as a psychological drama tinged with darkness and simmering tension, anchored by strong performances from Théodore Pellerin (Genesis, 2018; Never Rarely Sometimes Always, 2020) and Archie Madekwe (Midsommar, 2019). Pellerin plays a lonely, obsessive fan who cunningly insinuates himself into the inner circle of the musician he idolizes—played by Madekwe. Playing a toxic game, he ensconces himself in his idol’s house and pretends to be his best friend. 

Slyly aware of its own absurdity, the film keeps you hooked through its intricate web of relationships and subtle rivalries. It deftly examines the psychology of a narcissistic outsider turned confidant, revealing the corrosion and chaos his presence brings to those around him.

Though Lurker never transcends the confines of traditional storytelling, it retains an alluring spark—serving as a quiet warning against the ever-smiling manipulator desperate for validation. Pellerin is superb, walking the fine line between unhinged stalker and misguided devotee, radiating unease in every glance. It’s a pity that this perspicacious setup never fully detonates, but even without the explosive payoff it hints at, Lurker remains an astute, unnerving character study that lingers.

Twinless (2025)

Direction: James Sweeney
Country: USA

Alaskan writer-director and producer James Sweeney stars in his sophomore feature Twinless, a black comedy where he shares the screen with Dylan O’Brien. 

This darkly tinted tale of obsession and guilt kicks off with a funeral and ends up with a renewed relationship. Dennis (Sweeney), a lonely and emotionally wrecked gay man, meets Roman (O’Brien)—not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed—at a supporting group for twinless twins. What starts as a seemingly healing friendship soon spirals into conflict as unsettling secrets come to light.

The film maintains a consistent tone but lacks a compelling point of view. It starts confidently and intriguingly, yet drifts into a meandering bore. There’s no reason Twinless couldn’t have been witty or mordantly funny, but it seems too enamored with its own supposed daring, making an awkward leap from mildly intriguing to tiresomely hysterical. Sweeney, whose intentions may be sincere, ultimately miscalculates, fumbling toward a shallow resolution that dulls whatever spark the premise promised.

By the end, Twinless can’t conceal its shortage of ideas, and its early twists fail to justify the journey. What might have been an incisive exploration of grief and identity instead collapses into triviality, half-serious and half-baked.

Splitsville (2025)

Direction: Michael Angelo Covino
Country: USA

As in his directorial debut The Climb (2019), American filmmaker Michael Angelo Covino directs, co-produces, and stars in Splitsville, a screwball-inspired comedy bursting with manic energy. Shot in just 24 days, the film follows the emotional whiplash, romantic chaos, and skeptical musings of two married couples—played by Dakota Johnson, Adria Arjona, Kyle Marvin (in his second collaboration with Covino), and Covino himself. 

At once cruel and silly, Splitsville unfolds as an overwrought carousel of breakups and reconciliations, gradually losing traction in its final act as the narrative grows too chaotic and emotionally volatile to sustain. It only truly sparkles in flashes—the standout being a ferocious, unbroken fight sequence between the two male best friends—yet much of it feels in need of a rougher edge and more air to breathe.

Covino wants to transgress but never finds his way to something convincing and original. The discombobulated love stories are marred by a thin script with nothing particularly interesting to say. I felt no connection with the characters, and none of the leads bring anything special to the film. Believability really goes out the window here, and Splitsville might have been easier to take if it were less infatuated with its own cleverness.

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.

Caught Stealing (2025)

Direction: Darren Aronofsky
Country: USA

After three consecutive misfires—Noah (2014), Mother! (2017), and The Whale (2022)—Darren Aronofsky makes a striking comeback with Caught Stealing, a period black-comedy crime thriller of the highest order that leaves you shaken yet utterly captivated. 

Effectively capturing the anxious tribulations of New York’s Lower East Side during the late ’90s, the film adapts Charlie Huston’s 2004 novel with a nod to Scorsese’s After Hours (1985), following Hank Thompson (Austin Butler), a former baseball player turned bartender and die-hard Giants fan who finds himself entangled with Russian mobsters and dirty money. It marks Aronofsky’s ninth feature in 27 years — and the first chapter of a planned trilogy.

Aronofsky’s touch is unmistakable in the kinetic camerawork, gritty atmosphere, and underground allure. A vivid 1990s texture emerges through graffiti-covered walls, seedy bars, punk aesthetics, vintage cars, and worn city façades. The director populates this world with a gallery of characters that are worthy of your time due to their idiosyncrasies. They are the real magic of the film. 

Backed by a stellar cast and razor-sharp script, Caught Stealing is also wickedly funny. Liev Schreiber and Vincent D’Onofrio are uproarious as a pair of Hasidic hitmen, while the ruthless Russian thugs exude genuine menace. Wild Chinatown chases and gunfights in smoky underground bars unfold to the pounding soundtrack of British post-punk band Idles. Longtime collaborator Matthew Libatique once again delivers striking cinematography, capturing the city’s feverish claustrophobia with precision.

Revisiting his recurring themes—addiction, violence, and downcasts—Aronofsky reinvents himself with electrifying confidence. Caught Stealing promises a bloody good time, and it delivers — cerebrally, cinematically, and without compromise.

Highest 2 Lowest (2025)

Direction: Spike Lee
Country: USA 

Based on Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low (1963), Highest 2 Lowest marks another misguided adaptation from Spike Lee, following his failed take on Oldboy (2013). It reunites him with Denzel Washington after 19 years, their last collaboration being Inside Man (2006), preceded by Mo’ Better Blues (1990), Malcolm X (1992), and He Got Game (1998). 

The story centers on David King (Washington), a Bronx-born music mogul whose life spirals when his teenage son, Trey (Aubrey Joseph), is kidnapped for a ransom of $17.5 million. Screenwriter Alan Fox transplants Kurosawa’s tale into the American music industry, touching on themes of friendship, family, moral dilemma, and career. Yet the staging is so deficient and uninspired that the film never rises above mediocrity.

Undercutting the drama is a faulty score by Howard Drossin and Fergus McCreadie, which consistently fails to heighten tension, alongside an unappealing soundtrack featuring tracks by ASAP Rocky (who also stars) and Jensen McRae. The lone exception is a live performance by the late Latin-jazz pianist Eddie Palmieri, whose rendition of “Puerto Rico” stands out as a poignant posthumous tribute.

Instead of three-dimensional characters, Highest 2 Lowest gives us wax ones with zero chemistry. Nobody is really stepping outside their comfort zones. Therefore, when you should be clenching your fists with emotion, you only end up shrugging as everything seems unnaturally staged. 

Dragged out over two-plus formulaic hours, the film underscores Lee’s vertiginous decline. He has never made films in a predictable way, but here he is once again a hostage of his own misconceptions.

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.

Familiar Touch (2025)

Direction: Sarah Friedland
Country: USA 

Familiar Touch, the first feature by 33-year-old Sarah Friedland, draws inspiration from the filmmaker's dementia-stricken grandmother. Through carefully composed frames, Friedland depicts a challenging reality with the help of 80-year-old actress Kathleen Chalfant, whose performance stands as a career highlight. Their collaboration yields a delicate, sensitive, and luminous portrait of aging.

Avoiding melodrama, the story follows Brooklyn-based octogenarian Ruth Goldman (Chalfant), who enters a nursing home after a gradual psychological decline. Filmed with precision, the slow-paced, documentary-like staging captures gestures, smiles, and silences that feel authentic, challenging clichés and striking with sobriety and purity. Though it is difficult to witness the decline of an independent woman, Familiar Touch remains warm and affirming. 

Friedland’s script doesn’t take us to a sticky-sweat swamp of tears and wild emotions, but somewhere subtler than that, without sacrificing genuine emotion. This is a small film, but one that gets to the heart with profound affection.

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 Midsommar (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.