Artificial — NYFF Review
In many ways, Luca Guadagnino’s Artificial feels more like a spiritual successor to David Fincher’s The Social Network (2010) than Aaron Sorkin’s The Social Reckoning, and it’s not merely because Andrew Garfield appears in both. Like Fincher’s film, Artificial follows men shaping the future of technology while exploring how their egos and evolving power dynamics define the company they build. Where The Social Reckoning felt oddly behind the times, Artificial, much like The Social Network before it, feels as though it arrived at precisely the right moment, on the precipice of a major technological shift. These similarities notwithstanding, Artificial doesn’t feel as impactful and lacks the staying power of The Social Network. However, it’s impossible to say whether we’ll still be discussing Artificial a decade from now.
Everytime — NYFF Review
Grief has a funny way of altering our perception of time. One moment, each day feels like a lifetime. You’re struggling to get through the day without breaking down, just trying to make it from one morning to the next. Then, suddenly, you find yourself wondering how years have gone by when it feels like the loss only happened yesterday. Grief isn’t something ephemeral. It never fully dissipates. Instead, we learn to live with it. Some days, it can feel too heavy to bear, as though you’re collapsing under its weight. Yet, no matter how much time passes, it’s something we permanently carry with us. Sandra Wollner's third feature film, Everytime, which won the top prize in the Un Certain Regard section of the 2026 Cannes Film Festival, demonstrates this idea in a beautifully understated manner.
Making Marie Antoinette — NYFF Review
In 2005, Eleanor Coppola shot nearly 80 hours of footage on the set of her daughter Sofia Coppola’s film Marie Antoinette. According to her journal, Eleanor always intended to return to the material and assemble it into her own “look behind-the-scenes at the exquisite beauty created to realize the movie.” During lockdown in 2020, the mother-daughter duo began going through the footage together. Unfortunately, Eleanor passed away in 2024, but Sofia and her team continued working on the film and completed it in her memory. The result is more than a mere behind-the-scenes look at an extravagant film production. Seen through Eleanor’s eyes, the footage feels deeply personal. It documents not only how a movie was made, but also a mother proudly watching her daughter work and create. What emerges is an unexpectedly moving portrait of the relationship between mother and daughter, woven into the beauty and excess of Marie Antoinette itself.
A Statement — NYFF Review
In 1980, a group of environmental activists, scientists, policymakers, lawyers, and other professionals gathered in St. Petersburg, Florida, for a conference with a mandate from Congress to draft a statement on how to address the effects of carbon dioxide emissions on the climate. This conference is one microcosm of Nathaniel Rich’s 2019 non-fiction book, Losing Earth, but it’s the focus of Tom McCarthy’s new film, A Statement. Based on Rich’s book and the meeting transcripts, McCarthy penned the screenplay with Thomas Bidegain and Noé Debré. What’s ironic, however, is that although the film takes its title from the meeting’s objective, A Statement itself feels much more like a dialogue. Furthermore, its urgent subject matter is likely to spark conversations among moviegoers.
Behemoth! — NYFF Review
There are multiple ways to interpret the title Behemoth!, the latest film from Michael Clayton (2007) director Tony Gilroy. On the surface, it references something within the story itself, but I’ll refrain from elaborating in order to keep this as spoiler-free as possible. The word behemoth comes from the Bible’s Book of Job and typically describes something massive or powerful, whether it’s a creature, person, or organization. It feels like a fitting word to describe an orchestra coming together to play a piece of music. You have all these individuals from all different walks of life, each playing their own instrument, yet once the music begins, it's as though they merge into one enormous entity, something larger than the sum of their parts. During the press conference at the New York Film Festival, Gilroy explained that when you sit in on a scoring session, you’ve got a huge group of people who don’t dress or act alike, but when the light comes on, they become “this organism instantly right in front of you.” Behemoth! is a love letter to film scores and the people who come together to compose them, and from a musical and technical standpoint, this might be Gilroy’s most ambitious film to date.
The Debut — NYFF Review
With The Debut, Jesse Eisenberg proves he’s a filmmaker who’s only growing sharper, funnier, and more confident with each project. His third feature film might just be his best one yet. It’s a delightful, wildly hilarious, and irresistibly charming musical comedy bolstered by phenomenal performances from Julianne Moore and Paul Giamatti. It’s like a cross between a Woody Allen movie and Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan (2010). I’m aware that probably sounds preposterous, but somehow it works, and this is coming from someone who isn’t even a fan of Woody Allen movies. At its core, The Debut is a quirky character study about the desire to be seen and how artistic passion can spiral into self-destructive obsession.
Bitter Christmas — NYFF Review
While watching Pedro Almodóvar’s Bitter Christmas, I found myself thinking that it’s an enjoyable, sufficiently entertaining movie, but it definitely ranks lower than the vast majority of the auteur’s filmography. The funny thing is, Almodóvar himself seems to be cognizant of this and addresses it through the film’s self-reflexive humor. It’s a film that’s meta on multiple levels, almost to a fault. Almodóvar uses its layers of filmmaking-within-filmmaking to examine his own creative process and legacy, resulting in a film that is fascinating to think about, albeit forgettable. Bitter Christmas feels simultaneously deeply personal yet detached from the qualities that have often made Almodóvar’s films so distinctive and memorable.
Once Upon a Time in Harlem — NYFF Review
William and David Greaves’s Once Upon a Time in Harlem feels like more than a documentary. It feels like traveling back in time and conversing with some of the greatest creative minds of a generation. This may be the quintessential Harlem Renaissance documentary—a rare opportunity to witness these artists and intellectuals reflecting on their lives and work. The film was shot in 1972 at a gathering attended by surviving members of the Harlem Renaissance, but it remained unfinished for half a century. Following his father’s death in 2014, David Greaves revisited the footage and finally brought the film to completion.
Godzilla Minus Zero — NYFF Review
When it was announced that Takashi Yamazaki’s follow-up to Godzilla Minus One (2023) would have its world premiere at the New York Film Festival, it felt like a bold, unexpected choice. After watching the film, that choice feels even more audacious. Much like its predecessor, Godzilla Minus Zero is equal parts rip-roaring kaiju spectacle and heartfelt, intimate family drama, but this time the stakes are higher, the action is bigger, and the story is even more meaningful.
Paper Tiger — NYFF Review
James Gray’s latest film, Paper Tiger, opened the 64th New York Film Festival. Like his previous film, 2022’s Armageddon Time, it’s another immensely personal story, drawing from fragments of the director’s own childhood. Set in New York City in 1986, the film feels particularly at home at NYFF, capturing the look, texture, and atmosphere of the city during that time period.
Bucking Fastard — NYFF Review
Bucking Fastard is one of the most unique films of the year and marks Werner Herzog’s first fiction film in seven years. It’s also destined to be divisive, as it follows a pair of sisters who walk, talk, and act in unison, which may be grating for some viewers. Yet beneath its awkward, absurd humor lies a touching story about love and empathy. At one point, a character remarks, “Everything in this world confuses me,” and audiences may leave with the same reaction to the film itself. However, much of the film follows the sisters as they dig a tunnel in search of a place where they can finally feel like they belong, and if audiences are willing to dig below the surface of the film itself, there’s a deeper, rewarding meaning to uncover.
The Devils 4K Restoration — NYFF Review
Good art should make you uncomfortable. It should push boundaries and make you question everything you thought you knew. If there’s one filmmaker whose work feels synonymous with the phrase “pushing boundaries,” it’s Ken Russell. His 1971 film, The Devils, is arguably the most boundary-pushing film of his entire career. It may have been one of the most popular films at the British box office in 1972, but it received negative reactions from critics. Roger Ebert gave it zero stars. Tony Mastroianni of the Cleveland Press said Ken Russell directs movies “with all the delicacy of Jack-the-Ripper and even less restraint,” going on to argue that The Devils has little substance and that “most of it is lurid for the sake of being lurid.” Beyond its poor critical reception, the film was also censored and banned in some countries. However, in recent years, the film has experienced a critical re-evaluation. With dozens of sold-out screenings of the 4K restoration of the director’s cut, it feels as though the film and Ken Russell are finally getting the respect that they deserve.
Possible Love — NYFF Review
The title of Lee Chang-dong’s first film in almost a decade feels somewhat misleading. Possible Love suggests a simple love story, but in reality, it delves into something far more complex. The film draws inspiration from Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Dekalog (1989) and even opens with the commandment: “Thou shalt not covet.” Yet to call this a story about envy would also be far too reductive. Instead, Possible Love is a richly nuanced character study and an understated examination of class divisions, desire, and the subtle tensions that emerge between people from vastly different circumstances.
Tender Loving Care — NYFF Review
One of filmmaker Mike Leigh’s greatest talents is his ability to make his characters feel like real people, and his latest film—and possibly his last—Tender Loving Care is no exception. Due to his battle with myositis, Leigh has stated that this will likely be his final film, and that confrontation with aging and mortality feels reflected in the film itself. The result is a film that slowly sneaks up on you but is as poignant, powerful, and delightfully hilarious as anything he’s made before.
The Day She Returns — NYFF Review
The Day She Returns, the latest film from Hong Sang-soo, fits perfectly into his oeuvre, delving into themes of repetition, memory, and the act of filmmaking itself. The film follows Bae Jeongsu (Song Seon-mi), a previously retired actress who has recently returned to work in an independent film. She participates in a series of press interviews to promote her upcoming project, with the film divided into separate chapters, the first three depicting three different interviews that take place at a German restaurant. Eventually, Bae Jeongsu is asked to recreate these interviews in an acting class, but she finds herself unable to remember exactly what was discussed.
Club Kid — NYFF Review
Jordan Firstman’s Club Kid is one of the strongest feature film debuts in recent years. Firstman serves as the film’s writer, director, star, and executive producer. Yet the film feels more refined than some of the recent movies from far more seasoned filmmakers. I try to refrain from being hyperbolic in my reviews, and while I understand that no film can ever legitimately be described as perfect, Club Kid is about as close to a flawless film as I think you could get. Literally the only criticism I could come up with is that its multiple sequences featuring strobe lights may make the film inaccessible to people with photosensitive epilepsy. Beyond that, I honestly cannot think of a single thing I would change about this film.
Everything Else Is Noise — NYFF Review
Everything Else Is Noise is a fitting title for writer, director, and cinematographer Nicolás Pereda’s new film. Sound is what carries the film, whether it’s the blaring horns of a traffic jam or the incessant barking of a neighbor’s dog. Not only does the film essentially function as a chamber piece, with only a few characters largely confined to one location, but it’s also a work of docufiction, blending elements of documentary and narrative filmmaking. Despite its genre hybridization, it also feels like a riff on the French New Wave. It devotes nearly the first five full minutes of its succinct 71-minute runtime to an overhead shot of a traffic jam, calling to mind the infamous scene from Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless (1960). These stylistic choices make Everything Else Is Noise a fascinating filmmaking exercise, even if they do not always make for an especially entertaining film.
All of a Sudden — NYFF Review
Like many of Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s previous films, his latest feature, All of a Sudden, is a gentle, patient movie. It paints a fascinating portrait of the intersection of care and capitalism while simultaneously offering a thoughtful examination of work-life balance and how some people treat burnout like a badge of honor. Yet at its core, the film is a meditation on what it means to be alive and to truly connect with others.
Fjord — NYFF Review
Cristian Mungiu's Palme d'Or-winning Fjord is the type of movie that will likely inspire conversations that are ultimately more compelling than the film itself. That’s not to say it’s a bad film by any means. It’s a thoughtful, meticulously observed drama that raises difficult and thought-provoking questions about religion, parenting, and cultural differences. However, its measured, deliberately restrained approach often makes it feel emotionally distant and painstakingly slow.
Marty Supreme — Review
Josh Safdie’s Marty Supreme fuses the relentless intensity of Uncut Gems with the Kafkaesque absurdity of After Hours, transforming the sports film into something fresh, audacious, and unapologetically original. It’s a funny, stressful, and wildly unpredictable odyssey. The runtime flies by in a frenzy of ambition, ego, and escalating disaster, chronicling one man’s quest to become the world’s greatest table tennis player, which spirals into a series of startling misadventures.
Long-time collaborators Josh Safdie and Ronald Bronstein have once again proven that they’ve mastered the art of constructing protagonists who are deeply reprehensible yet impossible to look away from, characters so volatile that watching them is like witnessing a train wreck in real time. Their latest antihero, Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet), is very loosely based on professional table tennis player Marty Reisman. He’s a man in pursuit of greatness and a whirlwind of charm and arrogance, driven by unchecked ambition and bravado. Safdie and Bronstein wrote the role specifically for Chalamet, and it shows. No one else could have made such an egotistical character so enticing to watch. Chalamet brings the character to life with gusto and magnetism, making his every scheme and self-inflicted catastrophe both horrifying and hilarious. He oozes charm, but he’s also a tornado destroying everything in its path. Marty Supreme boasts some of the most hysterical line deliveries of Chalamet’s career thus far.
Right from the start, Safdie expertly establishes the film’s tone. We’re first introduced to Marty as he’s working in a shoe store. His married neighbor Rachel (Odessa A’zion) stops in, and the pair have sex in the back, but not before Marty’s boss discusses promoting him to manager. Marty scoffs at the idea, believing he has a purpose and is destined for something bigger. The delightfully off-kilter title sequence begins when the film transitions from the sex scene to footage of sperm swimming toward an egg. The egg transforms into a ping pong ball, presenting us with the film’s title and then landing us smack dab in the middle of a table tennis tournament. The title sequence perfectly captures the film’s sense of humor and liveliness, signaling to the audience that they’re in for an offbeat and uninhibited thrill ride.
Marty Supreme features an eclectic ensemble cast and a foray of fascinating characters. Odessa A’zion proves she has all the makings of a star, perfectly matching Chalamet’s energy. Tyler Okonma shines in his first true big-screen performance as Marty’s best friend, Wally, who accompanies Marty on many of his hijinks but also brings a sense of level-headedness and rationality. In addition to Rachel, another potential love interest for Marty emerges in the form of retired movie star Kay (Gwyneth Paltrow), who’s stuck in a loveless marriage to wealthy entrepreneur Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary). Paltrow plays Kay with a mix of wry detachment and curiosity. Abel Ferrara is a scene-stealer in his small role as Ezra, a dog owner who happens to cross paths with Marty in the most unfortunate manner. These are just a few of the interesting characters who end up entangled in Marty’s messes or bear witness to his shenanigans.
However, the true stars of the film are the screenplay, editing, and score. Safdie and Bronstein’s script masterfully ratchets up the tension, keeping us on the edge of our seats. It’s impossible to predict where the plot is headed from one minute to the next. Yet, somehow, the ridiculous situations Marty finds himself in never feel totally out of touch with reality. What sets Marty Supreme apart from other sports films is Safdie and Bronstein’s deliberate rejection of the formula. This isn’t a conventional underdog story or a stereotypical tale of redemption. Instead, it traces a ping pong prodigy’s fall from grace as he digs himself deeper and deeper into a hole he’s desperately trying to claw his way out of. Safdie subverts expectations and injects the sports genre with some much-needed life and personality.
The editing is exceptional, amplifying the film’s frenetic energy and maintaining a taut pace from start to finish. Each scene surges with turbulent momentum and rarely lets up off the gas. For a film that’s two and a half hours long, it feels shockingly succinct and never overstays its welcome. Daniel Lopatin’s pulsing score is his best work to date. It almost feels akin to the music he composed for Benny and Josh Safdie’s Good Time, permeating the film with an unshakeable feeling of anxiety and an endless rush of adrenaline. The music adds a heart-pounding rhythm, infusing each scene with a raw, electrifying intensity that propels the story forward. Darius Khondji’s cinematography is breathtaking. The project was shot on 35mm, giving it a grainy, raw texture reminiscent of a gritty, lost New York drama from a bygone era. The combination of the meticulous shot composition, galvanizing score, and kinetic editing makes the tournament sequences thrilling; ping pong has never felt so riveting.
Despite being a Josh Safdie film, Marty Supreme feels like it would fit right in alongside Martin Scorsese’s filmography. Marty’s haughtiness and drive for success evoke The Wolf of Wall Street, as our protagonist is charming yet detestable. The film has echoes of The Aviator because it’s a period piece inspired by a real person who becomes involved with a Hollywood actress and whose life spirals out of control. But above all, it feels like After Hours for the way things go wrong for our protagonist in the most outrageously hilarious and unexpected ways. Yet, at its core, Marty Supreme is unmistakably a Safdie film, with its heart-pumping, panic-attack-inducing narrative that’s simultaneously a love letter to New York City.
Marty Supreme is a triumph of controlled chaos, an adrenaline rush disguised as a sports movie. Safdie channels the anxiety and absurdity of ambition into something exhilarating, unnerving, and hilarious. If Uncut Gems is a panic attack, Marty Supreme is a manic joyride. It overwhelms the senses with its breathless pacing, razor-sharp storytelling, and electrifying score. It’s a wildly unforgettable journey that not only made my heart race and my jaw drop, but it also made me hold my breath, burst out laughing, cringe, wince, gasp, and everything in between. By the time the credits roll, you’re left unsure whether to laugh, exhale, or pop a Xanax. Yet, one thing is certain: Marty Supreme is a sports film unlike any other.