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.

Colin Minihan’s latest feature Coyotes delivers exactly what its title promises. This horror-comedy follows a wealthy family in the Hollywood Hills as they struggle to survive a relentless attack by a ravenous pack of coyotes. The story unfolds over the course of one harrowing night, made even more chaotic by a severe thunderstorm that topples trees, knocks out power, and cuts the family off from help just as the carnage begins.

The Curse feels like a nostalgic trip back to the techno-horror films of the early aughts, calling to mind eerie classics like The Ring and Pulse, but with a distinctly modern twist. Instead of cursed videotapes or haunted websites, the threat here seeps through the familiar feeds of social media, making the film feel both unsettling and eerily relevant.

Quentin Dupieux’s irreverent, brash sense of humor is almost certainly an acquired taste. Known for his offbeat and audacious storytelling, Dupieux has carved out a niche for himself in the world of absurdist cinema. But his quirky style may not be for everyone. With The Piano Accident, he turns his surrealist lens toward social media and influencer culture, providing the perfect opportunity for satire.

In September 2023, a single phone call shattered my world. Much like the protagonist in the opening scene of Park Chan-wook’s No Other Choice, I thought I had it all. After overcoming a childhood steeped in financial strain, I finally secured a job that freed me from living paycheck to paycheck. My success exceeded my wildest expectations, given the position from which I started. I thought I made it. But then, everything was ripped right out from under me in an instant.

It’s fitting that a movie titled The Ice Tower moves at such a glacial pace. That’s not necessarily a flaw, but it will likely test the patience of many moviegoers. Marion Cotillard is a commanding presence in Lucile Hadžihalilović’s film.

Justin Tipping’s HIM fumbles the opportunity to pack a powerful statement about America’s favorite sport. While football fanaticism is a topic ripe for tackling, the film fails to dive deeper than surface-level commentary on the cult-like obsession. Moreover, the narrative is overly simplistic in its message but scattered in its execution. Tipping’s sophomore feature feels more like an experimental exercise in style over substance.

One Battle After Another might just be Paul Thomas Anderson’s funniest film to date. It’s also arguably his most accessible and mainstream. The film channels the spirit of Thomas Pynchon’s writing style, leaning into paranoia and absurdism. While the narrative is loosely inspired by Pynchon’s novel Vineland

Scarlett Johansson’s directorial debut Eleanor the Great is equal parts heart-wrenching and heartwarming. On paper, Tory Kamen’s script might seem like a tough sell. The premise alone could raise eyebrows or even appall some viewers, but it is handled with remarkable sensitivity and sincerity. Thanks to Johansson’s gentle direction and June Squibb’s multifaceted performance, the story comes to life in a way that feels surprisingly sincere, unexpectedly funny, and deeply emotional.

Sentimental Value ranks among the best films I’ve seen about fractured families, intergenerational trauma, and healing through art—and I’ve seen a lot of them. It doesn’t try to reinvent the wheel or do anything groundbreaking. In fact, the story is relatively predictable, but it’s executed with such masterful emotional precision and sincerity that it feels revelatory.

DISC is cute, funny, uncomfortable, stressful, and unexpectedly sort of sweet. It’s well-crafted thanks in large part to Blake Rice’s direction and writing, along with co-writer and star Victoria Ratermanis. She and Jim Cummings have great chemistry that makes it easy for viewers to get invested in the story and care about the characters.

Trey Edward Shults' filmmaking career was already off to a great start with 2015's Krisha and 2017's It Comes at Night. But Waves is his best film yet. There hasn't been enough awards chatter surrounding Waves, and the film will most likely be overlooked throughout awards season. But make no mistake, Waves is one of the best films of the year.