Mona Fastvold’s The Testament of Ann Lee is a fearless, one-of-a-kind experience. Ann Lee, the leader of the Shaker Movement, a restorationist Christian sect founded in the 18th century, was a fascinating and controversial religious figure. Fastvold’s decision to tell her story through a musical lens adds another layer of intrigue and creative risk. The Testament of Ann Lee is a bold swing from Fastvold; it’s an ambitious, unconventional biopic bursting with ideas that don’t quite cohere into a fully satisfying whole.

William Shakespeare’s Hamlet has graced the silver screen in many forms for decades, whether it was Laurence Olivier’s 1948 classic or Michael Almereyda’s 2000 adaptation that moved the story to contemporary New York City. But never before has a film recontextualized and transformed the way audiences perceive the story of Hamlet quite like Chloé Zhao’s adaptation of Maggie O'Farrell’s award-winning novel Hamnet.

With Hedda, Nia DaCosta is at the top of her game. This reimagining of Henrik Ibsen's renowned 1891 play Hedda Gabler puts a sapphic spin on the story. It’s a provocative, tempestuous power play about a lavish gathering gone awry.

At one point during Clint Bentley’s film Train Dreams, a character ponders, “Beautiful, ain’t it? All of it. Every bit of it.” That line perfectly sums up not only the film, but also life itself. Train Dreams isn’t just beautiful, it’s one of the most visually breathtaking films of the year. All of it. Every bit of it. From the warm, joyous moments to the devastating disasters and even the insubstantial bits in between.

The Perfect Neighbor almost feels like the antithesis of Errol Morris’ The Thin Blue Line, but it’s equally groundbreaking. Where The Thin Blue Line pushed the boundaries of documentary filmmaking through its stylized re-enactments and interview structure, adding dramatization to the documentary format, Geeta Gandbhir strips that away and experiments with the genre by constructing her film almost entirely out of police body cam footage. This decision is both bold and effective, grounding the viewer directly in the moment. It destabilizes the comfortable distance that audiences are often afforded in true crime narratives, forcing us to feel as if we’re witnessing the events in real time.

Remaking a cult classic is always a gamble, but Yorgos Lanthimos’ Bugonia proves it can be done with reverence and creativity. Instead of making a carbon copy of Jang Joon-hwan’s 2003 film Save the Green Planet!, screenwriter Will Tracy delivers a thoughtful and imaginative reinterpretation. The film honors the spirit of the original while carving out its own identity. Bugonia will likely satisfy both fans of the original film and moviegoers encountering this wild story for the very first time.

Noah Baumbach’s Jay Kelly is a mixed bag, oscillating between entertainment industry satire and dramatic character study. Sometimes the film feels self-indulgent, other times accessible and crowd-pleasing. It’s fitting that the film begins with the Sylvia Plath quote, “It's a hell of a responsibility to be yourself. It's much easier to be somebody else, or nobody at all.” It’s a sentiment that’s echoed throughout the film when movie star Jay Kelly (George Clooney) responds to a question about how he always plays himself in movies with, “Do you know how difficult it is to be yourself? You try it." It’s fitting because Baumbach’s film feels like it’s having an identity crisis, unsure of what type of movie it wants to be or which direction to go in.

If you’ve ever watched Rick and Morty, Futurama, or pretty much anything on Adult Swim and found yourself thinking, “Wow, this is so zany and fun! But you know what would make it even better? If most of the characters were lesbians!” Emma Hough Hobbs and Leela Varghese have arrived to turn the queer, quirky animated film of your dreams into a reality with their directorial debut, Lesbian Space Princess.

There is a quote often attributed to the Greek philosopher Heraclitus that reads, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man.” With her directorial debut, Kristen Stewart channels that concept into cinema in more ways than one. The protagonist in The Chronology of Water, Lidia (Imogen Poots), is a swimmer who constantly finds herself submerged under water in both the literal and metaphorical sense. The water serves as both her refuge and a mirror, reflecting her memories, trauma, and continual transformation with every dive and stroke. At one moment, she observes, “I was a different person then,” a quiet acknowledgment that, like the river Heraclitus described, she is never the same woman from one moment to the next. The film itself mirrors this fluidity: every viewer will take away something different, and each viewing will reveal new currents and depths, subtle textures that may have gone unnoticed the first time, making the experience as mutable and alive as Lidia herself.

No one is making movies quite like Bi Gan. His latest outing, Resurrection, is an enchanting, experimental cinematic voyager through time, space, and genre. It’s an exploration that takes us through the past, present, future, and back again. It’s a loving ode to a century of cinema history and a spectacular visual feast, with astonishing production design, immaculate sound work, and mesmerizing cinematography.

Bradley Cooper’s third feature film, Is This Thing On?, exhibits the same intrigue with romantic complexities and a passion for the arts that were on display in his previous films, A Star Is Born and Maestro. This time, however, the art form is stand-up comedy rather than music. The film follows Alex Novak (Will Arnett), who reaches an amicable decision with his wife Tess (Laura Dern) to separate. One night, Alex wants a drink, but the bar has a $15 cover charge. The bouncer informs him that people who sign up for the open mic night are exempt from the cover, so he signs up. This awakens something in him, and he rapidly develops a passion for performing stand-up. On the surface, Is This Thing On? seems like it would be a simple movie about a man coping with his impending divorce by pursuing stand-up comedy, but in reality, it’s so much more than that.

Mascha Schilinski’s Cannes Jury Prize-winning Sound of Falling is simultaneously sprawling yet incredibly intimate. It truly feels like traveling through time and inhabiting multiple lives. The film is set at a farmhouse in the Altmark region of Germany and follows the lives of four girls who lived there during distinct time periods. Alma (Hanna Heckt) lived there shortly before World War I. The farmhouse was Erika’s (Lea Drinda) home at the end of World War II. Angelika (Lena Urzendowsky) called the house her home in the 1980s. Lastly, Lenka’s (Laeni Geiseler) story is set in the present. Despite their different circumstances, there are surprisingly similarities that each girl shares. Sound of Falling is a haunting, beautiful film that feels poetic and almost impressionistic in its storytelling as it weaves in and out of each girl’s unique story.

With her feature directorial debut, Fucktoys, Annapurna Sriram emerges on the scene like a fearless feminine counterpart to John Waters. If Mr. Waters is the Pope of Trash, Sriram stakes her claim as the Princess of Trash. The film itself is even set in the fictional neon-drenched dystopia of Trashtown, USA. The protagonist proclaims, “I love trash!” in a line that doubles as a mission statement for both the character and the filmmaker. Fucktoys is one of the most offbeat, original, and outlandish films of the year. Despite the film’s edginess and mature content, it maintains a playful, whimsical tone, like a hornier version of Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure.

More than a decade after Joseph Kosinski’s TRON: Legacy reinvigorated the franchise with neon spectacle and a Daft Punk score, Joachim Rønning takes the reins and brings us back into the Grid with TRON: Ares. This sequel is refreshing in the sense that it’s the rare follow-up that doesn’t succumb to nostalgia bait, keeping fan service and references to its predecessors to a minimum. Instead of rehashing familiar territory, TRON: Ares aims to update the franchise for the AI age. Unfortunately, the very screenplay that strives to do something fresh and different is also the film’s downfall. Despite its ambitions, the film ultimately feels more synthetic than inspired. Any attempts at exploring themes of sentience and digital autonomy feel frustratingly surface-level for a film of this caliber.

Harry Lighton’s directorial debut, Pillion, is one of the most thoughtful and tender portraits of a BDSM relationship ever put to screen. Too often, cinematic depictions of BDSM lean on stereotypes—turning dominants into predators, objectifying submissives, or portraying the community as something seedy and dangerous. Pillion rejects those false and harmful clichés. Lighton approaches kink with surprising sincerity, crafting a film that’s erotic, intimate, and deeply romantic without ever slipping into judgment or sensationalism.

Jafar Panahi’s Palme d’Or-winning It Was Just An Accident is a masterclass in balancing tonal extremes. The film shifts between humor and rage with remarkable dexterity. Panahi injects a surprising amount of levity into a story that’s both dark and devastating, striking a pitch-perfect balance that keeps the audience laughing, engaged, and unsettled in equal measure. It Was Just an Accident is a captivating, darkly hilarious, and thought-provoking exploration of the futility of revenge and the vicious cycle of vengeance it perpetuates.

Nouvelle Vague is equal parts a love letter to the French New Wave and a hangout movie. Richard Linklater has been discussing his desire to make a film about the production of Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless for over a decade, and with Nouvelle Vague, he turned that vision into a reality. It’s a film about the French New Wave shot in the style of the era. However, it’s difficult to say whether someone like Jean-Luc Godard himself would love it or hate it, as it feels like a loving homage that occasionally veers into unintentional parody.

The Academy Awards have been around for 96 years, and in that time, countless animals have given performances worthy of recognition. Yet there is still no Oscar for Best Performance by a Dog in a Motion Picture. If such an award existed, this year it would, without a doubt, go to Indy, the heart and soul of Good Boy.

Ronan Day-Lewis’ feature directorial debut, Anemone, is likely to spark accusations of “nepotism” because the film serves as his father Daniel Day-Lewis’ return to acting after retiring in 2017. However, the father-and-son duo also wrote the screenplay together, and their shared passion for this project is evident. Moreover, right from the film’s opening frames, it’s evident that Ronan Day-Lewis exhibits major promise in the director’s chair.

I know it’s a sin to review a movie by dwelling on what the movie could have been or should have been instead of what it actually is, but I made the mistake of reading a draft of Nora Garrett’s screenplay for After the Hunt prior to seeing the film. The script was so enthralling, I couldn’t put it down. The characters were despicable yet deeply human. They were complex, layered, and captivating. The social commentary was timely and sharp without feeling preachy. The narrative flowed with momentum and precision, steadily building up tension. It even threw in a few surprises, but ones that still made sense narratively. It was everything I wanted Todd Field’s TÁR to be, and more. Traces of that brilliance still linger in the version that made it to screen, but they’re buried beneath a mass of baffling changes and ill-conceived stylistic choices, resulting in a film that feels scattered, bogged down, and bewildering.