The less you know about Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, the better. It’s a film that subverts expectations, defies genre constraints, and is bound to make jaws drop. There has never been a movie quite like this one. 

Andy Muschietti’s It: Chapter Two garnered some attention for its nearly 3-hour-long runtime. Considering the length of Stephen King’s novel, the runtime of the film isn’t all that surprising. Tommy Lee Wallace’s 1990 adaptation even took the form of a miniseries. Although Muschietti’s movies are a vast improvement over the 1990 miniseries, It: Chapter Two becomes so repetitive that one can’t help but wonder if the films would have been more successful as a series instead. However, the hefty runtime isn’t the worst thing about It: Chapter Two.

Do you remember the first time you fell in love with a song? How you didn’t just listen to it but truly felt the music? Perhaps the lyrics spoke to your soul and made you feel like you weren’t alone. Maybe the beat was so energizing that it made you want to run through the streets dancing and singing along at the top of your lungs. It’s a rush of euphoria that you can feel pulsing through your veins. No movie has captured that feeling quite like Gurinder Chadha’s Blinded by the Light.

On June 19, 2016, multi-talented actor Anton Yelchin died from blunt traumatic asphyxia after his Jeep rolled down his driveway and pinned him against the gate of his home in Studio City, California. He was only 27 years old. He was known for his role as Pavel Chekov in the recent Star Trek films and starred in movies like Alpha Dog (2006), Charlie Bartlett (2007), and Like Crazy (2011). He was a gifted young artist whose blossoming career was cut short because of such a devastating freak accident.

The comparisons between Steve McQueen’s Widows and Andrea Berloff’s The Kitchen are inevitable. Sadly, the latter drastically pales in comparison. Although The Kitchen was written and directed by a woman, the female empowerment angle of the film feels disingenuous and forced.

Before the film’s premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, Quentin Tarantino penned an open letter urging viewers to avoid spoiling Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. He was right to do so. It’s not that his ninth film has an unpredictable plot or some major twist to spoil. But it does feature what is quite possibly the best movie scene of the year, and no words could ever really do it justice. It’s something that moviegoers must experience, not hear about it. Seeing it in a theater with a big audience also amplifies the fun of the film, especially when it comes to that scene in particular. 

Imagine if Yorgos Lanthimos directed Fight Club. That’s the vibe of Riley Stearns’ dark comedy The Art of Self-Defense. Despite the comparisons, The Art of Self-Defense still feels delightfully original. It’s a savage takedown of toxic masculinity that’s brimming with absurd humor.

Last year gave us one of the best Spider-Man films in the form of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, which left the next Spider-Man movie with some pretty big shoes to fill. This year gave us the monumental Avengers: Endgame, which is an extremely tough act to follow. Jon Watts’ Spider-Man: Far From Home was inevitably going to pale in comparison to those two films. But if audiences walk into the theater with realistic expectations, they’re bound to have a good time with Spider-Man: Far From Home.

Ari Aster’s Midsommar isn’t as frightening as his feature directorial debut, Hereditary, but it’s still a solid sophomore effort from an indisputably talented filmmaker. Midsommar is much funnier and far more absurd than its predecessor, but it’s also way less accessible. Whether audiences love it or hate it, there’s no denying that Midsommar is a bold follow-up for Aster.

Nine years ago, Toy Story 3 felt like the perfect endnote to Pixar’s beloved franchise. When it was announced that a fourth installment was in the works, it felt more like an uninspired cash grab than a necessary continuation of the story. Many people wondered what the point of making a fourth movie even was. What purpose could this film possibly serve?

On the evening of June 17, 2015, a 21-year-old white supremacist walked into the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina and killed nine people. Brian Ivie’s documentary Emanuel recounts the story and gives the survivors and relatives of the victims a platform to share their experiences. Ivie pulls together journalists and political figures for interviews but gives special attention to the people affected by the tragedy on a more personal level. The film tackles its sensitive subject matter in a profoundly respectable fashion.

On the surface, Jake Scott’s American Woman might seem like a run-of-the-mill film, between its generic title and familiar premise. Rather than make this a movie about a woman trying to figure out what happened to her missing daughter, Brad Ingelsby’s script turns this into a deeper story about life itself. It beautifully captures the cyclical nature of life’s tragedies and triumphs.

Lulu Wang’s The Farewell is one of those rare films that’s nearly impossible to dislike. It’s so moving and endearing that it’s guaranteed to be a crowd-pleaser. Not only is the film significant for its authentic representation of Chinese culture, but it also provides a riveting contrast between family traditions in the East and the West. Yet there’s something so fundamentally universal about it that anyone can identify with it.

As the title clearly implies, F. Gary Gray’s Men in Black: International takes the MIB overseas. Neither Tommy Lee Jones nor Will Smith reprise their roles for the fourth installation in the series. Their absence makes the film feel more like a spin-off than a sequel. But in terms of story structure, Men in Black: International plays out more like a reboot. It hits all the familiar beats of the original, most notably the teaming up of a young recruit with a more experienced agent. Unfortunately, it lacks the spark of Barry Sonnenfeld’s 1997 film.

Any new zombie comedy that hits theaters is inevitably going to draw comparisons to Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead (2004) or Ruben Fleischer’s Zombieland (2009), but Jim Jarmusch’s latest film owes more to the works of George A. Romero than anything else. Fortunately, Jarmusch’s deadpan sense of humor is enough to help The Dead Don’t Die hold its own.

To call Andrea Arnold’s American Honey a “great film” would be an understatement. American Honey is an extraordinary experience, albeit a subjective one. American Honey is entirely what one makes of it. It’s highly unlikely that any two viewers will have the exact same experience with this film, but there is something for everyone to love about it.

Perhaps the most common critique of Nicolas Winding Refn’s divisive film The Neon Demon is the claim that the film is “all style, no substance.” However, this argument is exactly the point that Refn is trying to make. The film focuses on the theme of vanity and condemns society’s hollow obsession with physical beauty. The way in which the film critiques this idea is by acting as an allegory.

Not only is Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook an outstanding feature debut, but the film is also a much-needed return to the roots of the horror genre. The Babadook stands out in stark contrast to the array of recent horror films that rely heavily on cheap jump scares and gory imagery.