Exceptional, noteworthy and entertaining new films — and where to watch them. Every week.
Killers of the Flower Moon
“Those teeth! Oh my. Off-white, wonky, stained, with something of the weasel about them, these are the teeth of a grifter, the teeth of a weak man, second-rate teeth, teeth whose owner is incapable of real love.”
Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour
“The Eras Tour — featuring concert footage, concert footage, more concert footage and nothing but concert footage — is a massive, somewhat overwhelming testament to Swift’s glistening, unrelenting professionalism as a performer.”
Past Lives
“Past Lives has stuck these past few months: when I think of it, I’m hit with the same soft, lapping wave of sadness that got me the first time, the same pang of attachment to a life, and a self, that hasn’t deserted me exactly, but now seems distant and strange.”
You Hurt My Feelings
“Any creative types may find themselves watching this otherwise gentle, ambling film in something close to a cold sweat, as we recall the times we've lied to loved ones and colleagues about their work, or doubted their praise of ours.”
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem
“Like really good fast food, fast cinema should feel throwaway, yet totally delicious.”
Talk To Me
“I don’t say this lightly, as I’m a huge fan of the 1999 Devon Sawa slacker horror Idle Hands, but for providing decent jumps and scares within a compelling character-driven context, Talk To Me is a serious new contender for best ever evil-hand-themed horror movie.”
Oppenheimer
“The other thing that this reminded me of was the Proustian free-association of memory, where one memory can lead directly to the next, but at other times, the associations are looser or deeper or less intuitive, and the effect is of a river of time ebbing and flowing and circling back on itself.”
The Damned Don’t Cry
“Boulifa worked inventively with the spare, tight tropes of British kitchen-sink realism in his excellent debut, but under warmer Moroccan skies, he permits himself a more sensuous, bejewelled cinematic language.”
Small, Slow But Steady
“Shô Miyake’s lovely, bittersweet portrait of a deaf woman boxer is playing its own game, or fighting its own fight, and its rewards aren’t euphoric, but they’re substantial nonetheless.”
No Hard Feelings
“I appreciate the clash of tones and textures in No Hard Feelings, its smuggling of human sadness into sunny popcorn fodder, and the way it allows its megawatt star to play hot and cold, big and small, high and low, smart and dumb.”
Stars At Noon
“Chemistry is tricksier and slipperier — it lives in the body as well as the mind, and exists largely in the subjective eye of the beholder. Chemistry will creep up and have its way with you; it is porous and sinuous and extends beyond the performances of the actors in a film, seeping into their surroundings.”
Beau is Afraid
“This is the stuff of Kafka, of Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Unconsoled, or of those recurring dreams you have where you simply can’t get to the corner shop because something always gets in the damn way — except filtered through an American comic sensibility equally indebted to Charlie Kaufman and Mel Brooks.”
The Eight Mountains
“Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeesch’s slowly heart-crushing film tracks this friendship with a perceptive patience that defies many a screenwriting manual and holds us rapt anyway, across a hilly hike of a running time.”