Spoiler-free review of Macon Blair’s Idiots, starring Dave Franco, O’Shea Jackson Jr., Mason Thames, Kiernan Shipka, Peter Dinklage, and Nicholas Braun. In theaters on August 28th.

There has been a lot of talk about Dave Green’s film Coyote vs. Acme over the last few years, after Warner Bros. announced they were shelving the film despite it being completed. Controversy arose when word spread that Warner Bros. Discovery opted to take a $30 million tax write-off rather than release the film. Following the backlash, the studio decided to allow the filmmakers to shop the film to other distributors. Ketchup Entertainment eventually acquired the rights, and it will now be released in the United States on August 28, 2026. After the long journey to get this film released, I sincerely hope that audiences will show up to see it during its theatrical run. I’m not just saying that because people worked hard on the movie and deserve to have their work seen. That’s true, but also the movie itself is a lot of fun.

Casper Kelly’s Buddy isn’t one of those “the less you know, the better” type of movies. It’s more like the less you know going in, the more it feels like a fever dream. This movie is most likely to land with anyone raised on television shows like Barney & Friends. I grew up in the ‘90s, and my mother claims I used to love Barney, but I have absolutely no memory of ever joyfully sitting in front of the TV watching that purple dinosaur prance around. In fact, all I can recall is having Barney sheets on my bed as a small child, and deciding in the middle of the night after seeing those dead, vacant eyes staring at me that I hate Barney and needed to get rid of those sheets immediately. So Buddy, a comedy slasher film about a Barney-inspired unicorn who hosts a children's TV show and whose dark side is gradually revealed, especially appealed to me.

Stoner comedies might be one of the most subjective genres to evaluate. Not only is the genre’s sense of humor an acquired taste, but there are also many additional factors that can determine how someone responds to a movie. For example, viewers who smoke will find these films more relatable than those who do not, while watching a movie under the influence versus sober could completely change someone’s perspective on it. These films also tend to rely on a deliberately silly or stupid sense of humor, meaning that a person’s mood can greatly affect how funny they find them. As a result, someone’s opinion of a stoner comedy can vary drastically depending on the time, place, and circumstances in which they watch it. Dylan Meyer’s The Wrong Girls demonstrates both the appeal and limitations of the stoner comedy genre, featuring moments of genuine comedic potential alongside humor that may not consistently land with every viewer. However, it is rare that we see female-fronted stoner comedies, and that is what makes this movie special.

David Robert Mitchell has one of the most eclectic filmographies of any director working today. He first emerged on the scene with 2010’s The Myth of the American Sleepover, a coming-of-age summer movie that authentically captures the awkwardness of adolescence, before following it with his breakout horror hit It Follows (2014). Then came Under the Silver Lake (2018), a neo-noir black comedy that was poorly received by critics but remains, in my opinion, the closest anyone has come to making something truly Lynchian in the last decade outside of Lynch himself. It’s fitting, then, that a moment in Mitchell’s latest film, The End of Oak Street, specifically reminded me of Twin Peaks: The Return. With only four features, Mitchell has already run the gamut of genres. His latest is a sci-fi dinosaur movie steeped in ’80s nostalgia. Whether audiences love or hate his work, one thing is certain: each of his films is unmistakably distinct.

I love a good high-concept romantic comedy. In fact, one of my favorite films from last year was David Freyne's Eternity (2025), which also starred Callum Turner. No matter how unrealistic the central idea is, I'm willing to buy into almost anything if the film puts in the work to establish its rules and commits to them. What loses me is when a movie introduces an intriguing concept only to abandon it halfway through. William Bridges' All of You (2024), for instance, began with a fascinating sci-fi hook before turning into a fairly conventional romance. Going into Will Gluck's One Night Only, I was worried it would make the same mistake.

I kept hearing that Destin Daniel Cretton's Spider-Man: Brand New Day was a more pared-down Spider-Man story because, unlike 2021's Spider-Man: No Way Home, it is not a multiverse film. That description made me realize what I had been missing from the recent string of Spider-Man movies. Growing up, Spider-Man was my favorite superhero, but somewhere along the way my enthusiasm for the character began to fade. Watching Brand New Day helped me understand why while also reminding me why I fell in love with the character in the first place.

At a time when so many biopics feel like formulaic compilations of a person’s greatest hits or cinematic renderings of their Wikipedia summary, Matt Johnson’s Tony feels like a breath of fresh air. The film deviates from the generic biopic structure, refusing to reduce Anthony Bourdain’s life to a glossed-over highlight reel or a rushed recap. Instead, it zeroes in on the summer of 1975, when Bourdain was 19 years old. By focusing on that one formative summer, the film gives us a deeper, richer glimpse into his early restlessness and recklessness as well as a more intimate portrait of his developing worldview and identity. The decision to make Tony a coming-of-age story allows Johnson to explore the humanity that countless conventional biopics often overlook

Kent Jones' Late Fame is a quiet indie drama that seems simple on the surface but has so much to say about art, aging, fame, and generational divides. Based on Austrian author Arthur Schnitzler's posthumously published novella of the same name, Samy Burch's screenplay transports the story to modern-day New York City. This is not the first time a Schnitzler novella has been reimagined as a story set in contemporary New York; Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut (1999) similarly transformed Schnitzler's Dream Story into a modern city setting. Both adaptations demonstrate the enduring relevance of Schnitzler's themes across different time periods and countries. The publication history of Late Fame itself creates an intriguing parallel with the film's central premise. Schnitzler wrote the novella in 1894–1895, but it remained unpublished until 2014. Likewise, the film follows a poet whose work goes unrecognized until decades after it was written. Willem Dafoe stars as that poet, Ed Saxberger, and his performance is the glue holding Late Fame together.

It has been a decade since Nicolas Winding Refn’s The Neon Demon hit theaters. In the time since then, Refn’s heart stopped, and he was considered clinically dead for 25 minutes in 2023. After his near-death experience, he decided to start making movies again, which was the impetus for his new film Her Private Hell.

Even more fascinating is that Hideo Kojima used Refn’s likeness for the character Heartman in his 2019 video game, Death Stranding. Heartman suffers from a condition that makes his heart stop every 21 minutes. It may not be the exact same scenario, but it is such a peculiar coincidence that it feels eerily prophetic. It calls to mind a line from Oscar Wilde’s 1889 essay, The Decay of Lying: “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” With Her Private Hell, however, the relationship between art and life feels truly symbiotic, as Refn draws from his own brush with death and the concept of fatherhood.

Gregory J.M. Kasunich's Meeting Your Maker won the Grand Jury Prize for Best Narrative Short at the Dallas International Film Festival, and it's easy to see why. The film follows Otis (Jonathan Kite), a puppet from the beloved children's TV show Yappy Hour, as he experiences an existential crisis in the lead-up to the show's 300th episode.  What initially begins as a sharp dark comedy centered around a suicidal puppet gradually reveals itself to be a deeply compassionate, layered meditation on the creative process, purpose, and personal self-worth.

Na Hong-jin’s fourth feature film, Hope, received polarizing reactions when it premiered at the Cannes Film Festival. The response following the film’s North American premiere at the New York Asian Film Festival proved to be equally divisive. Some audience members laughed and cheered, but as I exited the theater, I overheard numerous whispers: “What was that?” and “How did that get into Cannes?” Hope feels destined to be a love-it-or-hate-it type of movie, but much to my surprise, I found myself ambivalent, caught somewhere between admiration and frustration.

The most ironic thing about the reaction to Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey is that so many people are treating Nolan like a god when one of the film's most significant lines is Odysseus' warning: "Don't look for gods in men; you'll just be disappointed." For years, it has felt as though audiences have placed Nolan on a pedestal. Elevating any filmmaker to that status ultimately does a disservice not only to the artist, but also to ourselves, because it discourages us from engaging with their work critically. Prior to seeing the film, I came across early reactions that hailed The Odyssey as one of the greatest films ever made, as if we were witnessing cinematic history in real time. To be fair, the film does represent a substantial technical achievement as the first feature film shot entirely on IMAX film cameras. However, that accomplishment alone does not make it a masterpiece. While people are entitled to their opinions, I disagree with the hyperbole surrounding the film. The highest praise I would award Nolan's adaptation is that it may be one of the best versions of Homer's The Odyssey ever brought to the screen. That said, I suspect I would have been more impressed by Nolan's film if I were less familiar with Homer's epic.

Harry Elfont and Deborah Kaplan's Josie and the Pussycats received negative reviews and was deemed a commercial failure upon its release 25 years ago. Over time, however, it garnered a cult following—and rightfully so. I still remember seeing the film for the first time in 2001. I rented it from Blockbuster and absolutely adored it. The music was catchy, and my elementary school mind was blown by the idea of subliminal messages hidden in pop songs. For years, I referenced the movie in conversations, only to be met with responses like "Never seen it" or "Never heard of it." More than two decades later, Josie and the Pussycats remains a film I have never forgotten. I never stopped listening to the soundtrack, especially "3 Small Words" and "Pretend to Be Nice," performed by Letters to Cleo. I never stopped referencing the film, despite how few people seemed familiar with it. And I never stopped loving it.

Spoiler-free video review of David Wain’s Gail Daughtry & the Celebrity Sex Pass, starring Zoey Deutch, Miles Gutierrez-Riley, John Slattery, Ben Wang, Ken Marino, Sabrina Impacciatore, and Jon Hamm.

Spoiler-free video review of Pierre Coffin’s movie Minions & Monsters, starring Pierre Coffin, Trey Parker, Allison Janney, Christoph Waltz, Jeff Bridges, Jesse Eisenberg, Zoey Deutch, Bobby Moynihan, Phil LaMarr, and George Lucas.

Spoiler-free video review of Jeff Tremaine’s film Jackass: Best and Last, starring Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O, Chris Pontius, Wee Man, Dave England, Danger Ehren, Preston Lacy, Rachel Wolfson, Jasper Dolphin, Dark Shark, Poopies, and Zach Holmes. Now in theaters.

John Early’s directorial debut, Maddie’s Secret, is the type of film that, on paper, should not work. For starters, Early cast himself as the film’s female protagonist, Maddie Ralph. The movie feels like a cross between John Waters’ Female Trouble (1974), Alfred Hitchcock’s Marnie (1964), Paul Verhoeven’s Showgirls (1995), and Arthur Allan Seidelman’s made-for-TV movie Kate’s Secret (1986). In fact, one could call it a parody of Kate’s Secret and similar earnest TV movies that tackled serious topics, such as eating disorders, in an over-the-top manner that made them unintentionally comical. However, Maddie’s Secret feels more like a pastiche than a parody, affectionately borrowing from its influences rather than merely mocking them.

Here’s how I’d rank the movies I saw during Tribeca 2026.

Elisee Junior St. Preux’s feature directorial debut, The Tropic Sun and His Eyes, is a touching and tender portrait of masculinity and the lingering effects of generational trauma. Ruben (Stevenson Jean) returns to Haiti to visit his estranged father. While traveling on foot, he finds himself followed by a street kid (Blangue Machiny). Ruben eventually strikes a deal with the stubborn yet charming boy: if he can help him find a shortcut, he can tag along on the journey. What follows is more than a physical journey; it is a spiritual one. The film is an unlikely companion road movie reminiscent of Peter Bogdanovich’s Paper Moon (1973), while also serving as a moving exploration of Black masculinity evocative of Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight (2016) and Akinola Davies Jr.’s My Father’s Shadow (2025).