Disclosure Day (Steven Spielberg)

Despite how divided the reaction to Steven Spielberg’s latest imagining about extraterrestrials has been online and even in my own social circles, I fully agree with Chris that it’s among his best work. It’s also the film that appeared the most among our individual picks for this round-up. The government conspiracy and espionage elements are a bit of a MacGuffin, a flashier structure within which Emily Blunt’s television meteorologist awakens to the repercussions of an extraordinary event from her childhood. While the structure is Wikileaks, the arc is closer to a superhero origin story. Josh O’Connor is great as always, but it’s her dextrous performance of both bemused comedy and deep emotional wonder that grounds this visually spectacular adventure of transformation and discovery through its potent conclusion. — Josh

Disclosure Day is so reminiscent of Spielberg’s older films and showcases his talent for making beautiful films; it’s hard not to fall in love with it. I absolutely love alien abduction stories and love to think about what would happen if they turned out to be true, so Disclosure Day was a fun way to believe that for a few hours. Speaking of the 2 and a half hour run time, you’d never guess this film was so long. Spielberg is a true expert at moving the film along at the perfect pace, never lingering on a moment too long or rushing through one. — Marina

Disclosure Day is now playing in theaters.

Project Hail Mary (Phil Lord & Christopher Miller)

Lord & Miller’s interstellar bromance about two lonely little guys far from home, working together to understand each other (and themselves) to save their planets (and each other) via ingenuity and interpersonal communication surprisingly rocketed to the top of my list. Ryan Gosling and Rocky (who I refuse to believe isn’t real, despite too many behind-the-scenes features on James Ortiz’s phenomenal puppeteering and voice acting) are a perfect duo in this emotionally potent, ingeniously choreographed, comedic space ballet. Sandra Hüller makes me reconsider my blanket disdain of karaoke. Daniel Pemberton’s original score absolutely rips. And the sequence where Gosling’s reluctant astronaut “takes a moment” amid an infrared star field is among the most beautiful sequences I’ve ever seen on film. Realized largely with practical effects, the film is a strident rebuke to so much CGI/AI slop we’ve come to accept in blockbuster entertainments. Amaze, amaze, amaze. — Josh

I wasn’t expecting my favorite film of 2026 to be released in the first quarter of the year, but I’m almost positive that’s what happened with Project Hail Mary—and the further into the year we get, the more confident I am that this will remain true. Project Hail Mary is a true blockbuster like we haven’t seen in a while, and it reminds me why I love movies, theaters, and the chance to see and talk about movies with my friends. — Marina

Project Hail Mary is now streaming on Prime Video and related platforms.

I Love Boosters (Boots Riley)

Full disclosure: I haven’t yet had a chance to catch the majority of films that’d likely make this list for me. Which means the majority of my Year’s Best So Far is mainly drawn from the now-released SIFF ’26 festival films that have since seen release, and the (largely genre-related) stuff I’ve already seen and reviewed here so far this year. That considerable caveat/myopia considered, I’ll still readily go to the mat for all five movies I’ve picked here.

Boots Riley’s absurdist satire fires off so many fascinating and provocative ideas, at such a lightning speed, and with such a sensory assault of color and image, it’s almost too much to take in in one viewing, in the best possible way. I try to avoid hyperbolizing, but there’s something about what Riley’s doing here that feels like he’s rewriting cinema language in a way we haven’t seen in a while. — Tony

I Love Boosters is now available on various streaming platforms.

The Rest of Our Lists

With only a handful of movies common to our individual selections, we have a lot to discuss!

Other #1 Picks:

The Invite (Olivia Wilde)

Olivia Wilde directs and stars (along with an exceptional cast of Penelope Cruz, Seth Rogen, and Edward Norton) in this tense dramedy about a neurotic couple who invites their more-freewheeling upstairs neighbors over for dinner. What could go wrong? Pretty much everything. Wilde draws inspiration from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf but is more overtly funny but equally as biting. — Chris

The Invite opens in Seattle theaters on Thursday, July 9.

Deadline (Kiwi Chow)

While there have been other films about being in high school and the immense pressure kids, especially those in Asian nations like China, Japan and Korea, none really got to the heart of the matter as if we were seeing what was happening through their eyes. Each of the main characters came from varied backgrounds like high achievers, popular kids and near drop-outs, but each had a compelling story to tell. Films like this can easily fall into cliches but despite the high school tropes, their personalities were anything but shallow and that attention to detail is what brought this film to life with stark, uncomfortable reality. — Morgen

Deadline isn’t currently available for viewingo or streaming

Our #2 picks:

April X (Michel K. Parandi)

One of my favorite movies at SIFF this year. It stars Connor Storrie, who was luckily cast before his star turn in the gay hockey drama, and Lilly Krug as brother and sister roommates. He works in the totally legit underground body parts industry and tries to track her down when she goes missing. Very compelling. — Chris

The release date for April X on streaming services has not been announced yet. 

Yes! (Nadav Lapid)

A series of incendiary howls in three acts, Nadav Lapid casts Ariel Bronz as “Y”, a performance artist, comedian, and musician in Israel in the aftermath of the October 7 attacks. We watch as he and his dancer wife (Efrat Dor) throw themselves into the service of entertaining the rich and powerful, navigating the periphery of a society of ostentatious wealth by saying “yes” to everything, including a commission to compose a new national anthem. Their performances are both outlandish and soulfully realized. Satire that cuts with a sharp rusty blade, it’s visually stunning and ever-propulsive maximalism in service of communicating even the tiniest sense of how insane it feels to be alive now. — Josh

Yes is available to rent VOD

Valentina (Tatti Ribeiro)

At this point immigration issues have reached every corner of this nation. Even if you are in a small town bubble, it’s almost impossible to have escaped the fallout of ICE raiding our country like their kids in a candy store. Valentina offers an up close and personal perspective of living in this country as a “foreigner” or “alien”. The lines are blurred between friend and enemy, especially in border towns like El Paso, Texas. Valentina lives an every day life that’s colored by friends, family, confidants and stresses of just trying to get by. With a really unique blend of documentary and performance art, she has pulled us into her world. — Morgen

Valalentina isn’t currently available for streaming

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die! (Gore Verbinski)

I’ve prattled on in greater length about Gore Verbinski’s marriage of Kurt Vonnegut humanist satire/sci-fi action movie at greater length in these virtual pages back in February, but suffice it to say, I’ve yet to see a movie this year that more cannily subverts the genre-blockbuster template with this kind of humor and–dare I say it?–heart. — Tony

Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die! is streaming now on various platforms, and is available on physical media from various retailers besides Amazon.

Our #3s

The Drama (Kristoffer Borgli)

This film is absolutely wild, but I can’t help but love it, not least because of the chemistry between Zendaya and Robert Pattinson. They create scenes that make me believe their characters will be okay, no matter how much their lives start to crash and burn. In the best way possible, the film is like a train wreck you can’t look away from. — Marina

The Drama is available to rent or purchase digitally on various platforms.

The Seoul Guardians
(Cho Chul-young, Kim Jong-woo, Shin-Wan Kim)

This was one of the most affecting documentaries I’ve seen in a long time. I have had an affinity for Asian cultures and specifically for South Korea. I “lived” the near dictatorship of this nation unfold in 2025 with a mix of horror and fear. I should have had more faith in the strong, unified power that they hold amongst themselves and are determined to keep their country in line. With the May 17th coup in ’79 still fresh in the memories of the older generation, there’s no way they could allow such massive injury and killing of their own people because of the ego of one man. This film takes you from the moment President Yoon Seok Yul calls for martial law on the evening of December 3rd, 2024 until the final moments when he calls back the military he had deployed against the people of his own country and the assembly-people trying to uphold the law of the people.

The Seoul Guardians isn’t currently available to stream, but keep an eye out at SIFF.

Mārama (Taratoa Stappard)

Again, I already devoted a surplus of words in praise of Taratoa Stappard’s socially-charged gothic thriller, and a second viewing post-SIFF just cemented its efficacy as a horror film, and as an impassioned frontal assault on the horrors of colonialism. — Tony

Mārama is now streaming on various platforms.

Our #4s

The Bride (Maggie Gyllenhaal)

I went into this Maggie Gyllenhaal joint expecting literally nothing. I had kept my ears and eyes fresh to form my own opinion. I knew it had the potential to be very polarizing and I’m so glad I took the extra step to avoid discussion. It was a fresh, disturbing, feminist, co-dependent take on the age-old Mary Shelley story. I think in my review I even said “I think Shelley would approve”. It’s so macabre, but Jesse Buckley as the titular character made this new and unique exploration entirely her own. Plumbing the depths of what it means to be human, embracing it and then running in the opposite direction. I didn’t expect it, which makes it even better. — Morgen

The Bride can be streamed on HBO and other popular services

Obsession (Curry Barker)

The best part of Obsession was how genuinely funny it was—not in the I’m laughing at a low-budget horror film kind of way, but it was a truly hilarious, creepy experience. The filmmaking highlights how this new generation of filmmakers are pushing the boundaries and innovating the art already, and it’s exciting to see. I can definitely see Obsession becoming a recurring film for me during spooky season. — Marina

Obsession is now playing in theaters.

Leviticus (Adrian Chiarella)

What a year it’s been for indie horror with cutting social relevance! Although I appreciated the Obsession‘s grim twist on the wish fulfillment of toxic male longing, my pick for this season of innovative scary stories goes to Adrian Chiarella’s coming-of-age metaphor that casts religious intolerance as a demon that stalks you in the form of who you most desire. As a duo of young lovers pushed apart, Stacy Clausen and Joe Bird are terrific, elevating the material beyond big scares to something resonant and powerful. — Josh

Leviticus is now playing in theaters.

The Furious (Kenji Tanigaki)

One of the most exhilarating, masterfully choreographed action movies to hit theaters since Jet Li and Jackie Chan ruled international screens, and a complete blast of a theatrical experience. Full stop. — Tony

The Furious is now playing in theaters everywhere.

#5s

The Christophers (Steven Soderbergh)

Not the best Soderbergh in recent memory (Black Bag is) but still a tightly-wound dark comedy about a legendary painter in his cranky old man era, a would-be forger who wants to finish a series the old artist never finished, and his greedy failchildren who need the unfinished paintings to be finished to have an inheritance. — Chris

The Christophers is available on VOD.

Color Book (David Fortune)

David Fortune’s unpretentious, wonderful dramedy about a recent widower taking his young son with Downs Syndrome to a ball game was completed in 2024, a festival favorite in 2025 (including that year’s SIFF Fest), and recently released as a Netflix streaming release. But for that chaotic release history, it’d easily be the #1 thing I (re-) watched so far this year. Fortune’s crafted the kind of small but powerful, damn near perfect movie that deserves to be seen (and wholeheartedly embraced) by a much larger audience — Tony

Color Book is now streaming on Netflix.

Toy Story 5 (Andrew Stanton)

As I reflect on my top five films so far, I’m realizing a common theme is that I’m loving films that remind me why I love movies and going to the theater. Toy Story 5 is also one of those movies. It feels nostalgic and harkens back to the original film without feeling overdone or repetitive. The filmmakers found a creative way to address the tech boom taking over the world (and our kids’ worlds) without making tech the true bad guy and still letting toys shine. Plus, it was just as entertaining for me as an adult as it was for the kids in the theater with me. — Marina

Toy Story 5 is now playing in theaters.

Franz (Agnieszka Holland)

I’ve always loved Franz Kafka. I came across him in high school where Metamorphosis was required reading and I’ve never been the same. His work is evidence that allowing your subconscious and consciousness roam free and run off with wild abandon can be a good thing. While this film was an estimation of his life, enough was known to create a mostly complete picture of this incredible oddity of a man. It lead us through his young adulthood where his family set expectations to which he complied until he was convinced otherwise by his supportive sister. He allowed himself to love and follow his passions, but it wasn’t an easy road. He was far from perfect, and I loved getting to know the man behind the myth. — Morgen

Franz will release in theaters on August 21

The Sheep Detectives (Kyle Balda)

I had a lot of movies vying for this fifth spot: Blue Heron, Sophy Romvari a deeply personal Canadian drama about reinvestigating a complicated childhood as an adult (think of it like Aftersun for siblings, except far more direct in its messaging and stylistic choices). Or maybe Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie, Matt Johnson’s deeply personal Canadian comedy about interrogating the shape of a lifelong intertwined friendship and artistic collaboration, and also Back to the Future. Or even Tuner, a whip-smart crime caper about different ability as a superpower? All played at Toronto last year and are worth your time!

But I wanted to keep this list to films I saw during 2026 and simply couldn’t let this roundup go without praising the myriad charms of The Sheep Detectives, a cozy mystery which a flock of CGI sheep kindly tended to by a gentle shepherd played by Hugh Jackman are required to solve a murder through knowledge gained through bedtime stories. On paper this self-aware meta-mystery sounds preposterous, and that’s before mentioning that it also includes Nicholas Braun affecting a British accent as a local policeman. But from nose to tail it is an utter delight: clever without cloying, a testament to memory and forgetting, acceptance and resilience, and my goodness — just so many cute sheep doing sheep things while getting to the bottom of some dastardly schemes.

The Sheep Detectives is available on Prime Video.

The post Roundtable: Our Favorite Movies of 2026 (So Far) appeared first on The SunBreak.

Now in their seventh feature, the Minions are back and as ubiquitous as ever, and that’s either a good thing or a very bad thing, depending on your ideology. I fall firmly into the former camp, as I find them cute and funny, even if they are biologically programmed to serve evil.

After four Despicable Me movies and two standalone Minions movies, writer Brian Lynch and writer-director Pierre Coffin found a novel way to stave off Minion fatigue: flatter the egos of critics and film buffs alike by paying tribute to classic Hollywood. And it works. The film recreates a surprising number of iconic moments, from Harold Lloyd dangling from a clock tower in Safety Last! to Charlie Chaplin caught in the gears of a factory in Modern Times, Buster Keaton standing where a window will fall in Steamboat Bill, Jr., and even the famous piano scene from Casablanca.

The story is told through a museum tour, where the guide (Allison Janney) is astonished to discover that no one in her group has ever heard of James and Henry, the two Minions credited with launching the species’ show business career. She recounts a Zelig-like history of the Minions drifting from one despot or monstrous tyrant to the next, only to wear out their welcome thanks to James and Henry’s well-meaning chaos before stumbling into Hollywood by pure chance. Poor Cyclops joins Ozymandias in the ranks of those whose glory proved fleeting.

The Minions ride high during the silent era until, yes, talkies come along and their trademark gibberish doesn’t translate well. Film noir, in particular, proves especially rough on them, and they’re soon cast out again.

James, though, has an idea for a comeback that plays to the Minions’ strengths: make a monster movie. The only problem is finding a monster. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) an accident while attempting to conjure one instead produces the harmless-looking Goomi (Trey Parker). Goomi, however, knows where to find real monsters and leads the Minions to an island where two ancient creatures, Howard and Phillips, await thawing. Their names are no coincidence; together they make up the “H” and “P” in H. P. Lovecraft.

The plot proceeds along familiar lines from there, so I’ll leave the remaining surprises intact.

For all the Easter eggs aimed at adults, this is still very much a Minions movie, and it should delight children every bit as much as their parents and the film buffs in the audience. One thing, though, should earn universal agreement: Minions & Monsters runs a brisk 89 minutes.

__________________________________________

Minions & Monsters opens in theaters everywhere today, July 1.

The post <em>Minions & Monsters:</em> the silent screen meets the yellow machine appeared first on The SunBreak.

Oh brother. Supergirl is a letdown.

The best thing it has going for it is Supergirl herself. Milly Alcock stars as Kara Zor-El, and she’s fantastic. It’s no small feat to make a hero this likable when she’s hungover for most of the movie.

It’s a shame to waste a burgeoning star on such a subpar film, but Supergirl was probably doomed from the start. The script feels like a buffet of superhero clichés masquerading as pop-culture feminism. The trajectory from Wonder Woman to Wonder Woman 1984 to Supergirl is a textbook case of diminishing returns.

Kara would rather spend her evenings at the bar drinking cheap whiskey, but she’s reluctantly pulled into young Ruthye’s quest for revenge against Krem (Matthias Schoenaerts), who murdered her family after backing out of a business deal he never intended to honor. Eve Ridley is a fine actress with a promising future, but I found Ruthye every bit as grating as she was precocious and brave. Supergirl has a vested interest in pursuing Krem when he poisons her dog. As a supervillain, though, Krem is no Thanos or Lex Luthor.

Jason Momoa appears as Aquaman Lobo, an intergalactic one-man motorcycle gang who shows up whenever it’s convenient for the plot. His performance is somehow both too over-the-top and strangely flat, and he never really establishes any chemistry with Milly Alcock or Eve Ridley.

Craig Gillespie has directed excellent films, particularly Lars and the Real Girl and I, Tonya, but Supergirl suggests he’s at his best when working with smaller, more character-driven stories.

There are a few enjoyable moments, like the way Wet Leg provides the perfect soundtrack to a fight scene, but they’re few and far between. Bizarrely, the film also features the most atrocious cover of Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle” imaginable.

This may count as a spoiler, but one of the film’s most baffling choices is having Supergirl drained of all her power beneath a green sun (whose radiation includes kryptonite), only to have her strength return almost instantly when the green sun sets and the yellow sun rises. The turnaround is so abrupt that it reminded me of Yoda telling Luke Skywalker to use the Force and then immediately cutting to the Death Star exploding.

Not every superhero has to save the world. Unfortunately, Supergirl can’t even save her own movie.

_______________________________________________

Supergirl is now playing in theaters everywhere.

The post Supergirl is a hot mess, and so is <em>Supergirl</em> appeared first on The SunBreak.

I know Quentin Tarantino isn’t where you thought I’d start my review of Toy Story 5, but bear with me. Tarantino famously refuses to watch the fourth Toy Story film, believing the first three constitute a perfect trilogy. While I can respect skipping the fourth film, please go see the fifth—it’s one of the best things to happen to the series since the original Toy Story. 

I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t particularly looking forward to this one. I worried the introduction of tech would ruin the timeless nostalgia the other films possess, but director Andrew Stanton and his team have overwhelmingly proven me wrong. The film is beautiful to watch. The animation is clearly an upgrade from 1995, yet it doesn’t lose the familiar feel of the early films. As always, it’s great to hear some of the regular voices (John Ratzenberger, Annie Potts, and Wallace Shawn), even if we don’t see too much of the original toys. The newer additions to the cast are equally captivating.

Jessie (Joan Cusack) is the new leader of Bonnie’s (Scarlett Spears) toys in Woody’s absence (Tom Hanks). She knows Bonnie is struggling to make friends because, unlike Bonnie, other kids are sucked into screens and no longer play with toys. To help her connect with other kids, Bonnie’s parents buy her a new tablet, Lilypad (Greta Lee), who gets right to work connecting Bonnie to virtual friends. Seeing the implications of these shallow friendships, Jessie rallies the toys to play matchmaker, reluctantly teaming up with some older tech to connect Bonnie with a new friend. 

Despite its marketing, the film is far less about toys vs. tech and much more about friendships, being yourself, and facing the inevitable changes of life. The new tech ends up being more of a misunderstood newcomer, with the true villains being the other kids Bonnie surrounds herself with (a much-welcome diversion from Toy Story 3). This is one of the many small ways the film harkens back to the original Toy Story and strays from the newer renditions. Both Lilypad and Jessie are trying to do what they think is best for Bonnie. Even though they fundamentally disagree on how it should be done, they share the same goal.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its focus on female friendships and Jessie as the true main character of this story. It’s wonderful to see her shine, learn more about her backstory, and watch her fight fiercely for the kid she loves most in the world. While it’s fun to still see Buzz (Tim Allen) and Woody bicker, and I’ll never tire of watching Buzz attempt to muster up the courage to propose to Jessie, it will always be refreshing to watch a confident girl struggle to find her place in the world while stopping at nothing to help the ones she loves.

The filmmakers, surprisingly, don’t make too big a statement on the emergence of tech. Instead, this film feels like the story the original film couldn’t have told 30 years ago (the aforementioned technology didn’t exist yet), yet it still tells the same story: toys deeply desire for their kids to play with them and have a fierce loyalty to their kids.

Toy Story 5 arrives in theaters on June 19
Photo courtesy of Pixar. © 2026 Disney/Pixar

The post <i>Toy Story 5</i> introduces new tech, retains classic nostalgia appeared first on The SunBreak.

Michael Sarnowski’s grimy new historical-adjacent thriller dares to ask audiences to consider a deeply uncomfortable question. What if Robin Hood was not, in true fact, a sexy swashbuckling animated fox? Let alone one who stole from the rich to give to the poor? Or to unite with his band of affable outlaws who communed in the forest of Sherwood to thwart the avaricious overreaches of a swishy spoiled despot king? 

The answer, especially for those struggling day-to-day to make sense of the nonstop onslaught of insanity that mark The Way We Live Now: “damn, man, that sure would be a major bummer.” 

Having previously played very successfully in the milieu of miserabilia with Pig and A Quiet Place: Day One, I was optimistic about his take to scuff up the shiny legend of a folk hero. But where his previous film found glimmers of hopeful complexity, this one takes a more relentless approach. From the moment we meet his Robin Hood (Hugh Jackman, grizzled and grey-bearded) warming himself by a small fire at nightfall in the weather-ravaged hills of thirteenth century England, it’s immediately clear that he was neither Flynn nor Fox. A starving young woman (posing as a man) spouts the familiar tales of true love and virtue. Although he summarily tosses her a morsel of food (trigger warning: so many skinned animals), he delivers with it a truth bomb that Robin Hood was nothing but a murderous vandal who used stories of valor for cover to support more murderous vandalism. 

Lest you think this cantankerous mumbly man, time-worn skin covered by overgrown grey hair and protected from the elements by a collage of animal pelts, is using his denial of legend as simple cover, Sarnoski disabuses audience of any hope by the number of dogs and children’s heads who see the sharp end of his knives and trademark arrows.

The first third of the film reunites Robin with his old bestie Little John (a truly unrecognizable Bill Skarsgård). His onetime partner and crime has spent decades as the beneficiary of a violent identity theft, but the idyll of domesticity has been crushed by the realities of violent familial retribution. Jackman and Skarsgård’s scenes together echo the melancholy of late life, in which the truth has become indistinguishable from stories and memories, even among the men who lived or fabulized them. Robin joins John for one last battle with the odds stacked against them, less out of service to his friend than out of a fleeting hope that it will hasten his long overdue death.

From its opening frames, Cinematographer Pat Scola (who shot Sarnoski’s previous features) immediately conjures a grim and unforgiving medieval world, using celluloid film to capture desaturated vision of desolation. Far from the technicolor emerald greens of legend, this is a craggy and mossy world illuminated by overcast skies or the sparks of firelight against the menacing dark of night. Accompanying this desolate look, the film features some of the gnarliest kills, filthiest fights, and unforgivingly gory violence I’ve seen in quite some time. Every confrontation is tactile and brutal, combatants covered in dirt and ash, mortal wounds delivered unflinchingly. There’s little merriness to these men.

Despite the title, Robin’s death does not come quickly. The latter part of the film finds him recuperating on a seemingly enchanted island under the care of a mysterious Prioress (an excellent Jodie Comer). It’s here that some light enters the frame, in the form of seaside light that filters through windows and orchards where Robin’s rehab and physical therapy progress through gardening chores and trapping duties. We see him soften through conversations with a wise leper and warm in taking on surrogate fathering duties to a young girl who survived unspeakable trauma. Jackman and Comer share a magnetic rapport and in these sections, these two reticent characters bloom ever so slightly as the film wrestles with issues of legacy, duty, and the confounding balance of the universe. 

Although it’s a welcome counterpoint to the film’s grim opening act, the story never comes into full bloom. In part, because it’s still blanketed by an overwhelming sadness without much in the way of regret, but also because much of it feels so rote. One also ponders the choice to set the action against the folk story or Robin Hood at all. Jackman’s version of the character is a compelling storyteller, but even in the less sophisticated media environment of the time it makes little sense that the gilded legend would persist so widely if the man was such a monster whose villainy and blood feuds chased him into old age. Beyond those practicalities, Sarnoski’s script also seems to lose interest in the contradiction, pivoting instead to a vague flirtation with redemption. 

While some elements of the filmmaking and acting are superb, they’re often in service of a story that’s going through the motions. Be it found fatherhood, deathbed revelations, or tenuous friendships, Sarnoski is so committed to his anti-hero’s recalcitrance that the impact is diminished. It doesn’t help that we’ve also already seen a grizzled (yet still ripped) Hugh Jackman wrangling with the dark side of violent heroism in Logan, making this performance feel more like retread than re-invention. Despite some fascinating turns, I longed for it to connect — or at least have more to say — about the subversion of fairy tales. As the film’s intentions became clear, I found myself counting down the minutes until it paid off its title. While a few glimmers of insights penetrate the stony facade, a quiver full of opportunities to set loose an interrogation of myth never quite hit the target. 

The Death of Robin Hood arrives in theaters on June 19th
Image courtesy A24

The post <i>The Death of Robin Hood</i> insists on dismantling the idea of legend appeared first on The SunBreak.

The metaphors run hot and heavy in this Down Under horror story about the trauma of gay awakenings. Still, small abandoned conservative towns, spooky religion, and the overwhelming potency of teenage lust remain creepily effective tools when deployed this stylishly. In his debut feature, director Adrian Chiarella makes a splash with one of the most assured debuts of the festival.

The stage is set with an effective setpiece in which a young woman is seemingly seduced and slaughtered by a sexy swimming pool shower ghost before she ever hits the water for her morning laps. Without explaining anything, leveraging the cavernous solitary setting, and deploying the gore strategically, we’re dropped into the action knowing that something awful is amiss without actually understanding anything but the lurking danger.

The action cuts to a pair of teenage boys — brave blonde Ryan (Stacy Clausen) and cautiously anxious newcomer Naim (Joe Bird) — testing the limits of a new friendship. Approaching a snake as it’s swallowing a poisonous frog (Australia, where everything can kill you, and each other!), breaking into an abandoned mill, throwing stuff in the abandoned mill, wrestling their way into a bit of clandestine smooching in the late afternoon sunbeams on the floor of an abandoned mill. Damn, abandoned mills ran really do it all. Walking their bikes home, there’s a nonchalance to this clandestine burgeoning romance.

Chiarella leaves the details of backstory to the imagination. Naim is newish to town, he and his mom (Mia Wasikowska having aged gracefully into “deeply out of touch mom” roles might be the scariest twist of all) attend the same school and seemingly new-age church as Ryan. It’s only later, when Ryan’s discovered to be carrying on with another boy in town that we discover the sinister regressive attitudes underlying the town in the form of a supernatural “conversion therapy” session that’s more possession than exorcism. It’s in the aftermath of this unsettling ceremony that we see the unsettling consequences of the ritual.

Without revealing too much, the “pray away the gay” ritual has the opposite effect. A seductive and violent presence stalks its victims, coming to them when they’re alone, a clever horror mechanic that twists and actualizes intrusive thoughts of queer awakenings and ensuing isolation. In a cruel twist, we (and the boys) learn that the presence takes the form of whatever one desire’s the most. It’s a clever concept but wouldn’t work without the potent acting of the two leads. Joe Bird is a phenomenal avatar for these feelings of both lust and confusion; Stacy Clausen excels in a tricky dual role requiring both vulnerability and menace. That we see the demonic presence from only one of their perspectives is a brilliant decision, enhancing the inherent terror in vulnerability and the potent pull of attraction despite the possibility of looming danger.

As much as it’s a queer allegory of homophobia, the themes and precisely engineered tensions should play universally. As the boys navigate their feelings for each other and struggle to unravel the horrible mystery of what’s tormenting them, Chiarella crafts a layered story, building genuine scares amid the context of a budding romance and chemistry between the leads. With their push and pull dynamic pitting the potency of attraction against mortal danger, the film builds to a thrillingly choreographed climax that reckons with the unsettling realization that “home” isn’t always a synonym for “safe”.

Smart, fun, sexy, and scary? One of the stronger features I’ve saw at Sundance whose power lingered long after the credits rolled, I suspect it’ll play well even before midnight.

An earlier version of this review ran when Leviticus played as an official selection of the Sundance 2026 Film Festival in the Midnights program. It was since acquired by NEON and opens theatrically this weekend.

Keep up with all of The SunBreak’s Sundance 2026 coverage on social media (@josh-c / @thesunbreak) throughout the festival.

The post <i>Leviticus</i> literalizes the horror of conversion therapy appeared first on The SunBreak.

We are conditioned to treat immediate, breathless praise of a new blockbuster with a healthy dose of skepticism. And we should. But Disclosure Day deals in the kind of truth that is impossible to suppress, whether we’re talking about seventy years of government secrets or the reality of the film itself: Steven Spielberg has delivered another late-career masterpiece. It is a film so fiercely entertaining and intellectually stimulating that trying to temper my enthusiasm for it feels like an exercise in dishonesty. It genuinely belongs among his absolute best work.

At heart, Disclosure Day forces us to confront a deeply philosophical question: If handed incontrovertible proof that our accepted history is a multigenerational lie, what do we do with the truth?

The casting here is magnificent, largely because these actors don’t just occupy space—they form an intricate web of beautifully written, interlocking friction. At the center is Josh O’Connor as Daniel Kellner, a reformed felon turned cybersecurity expert who realizes the data he’s guarding is trapped on the wrong side of the corporate firewall. He is balanced by Emily Blunt’s Margaret Fairchild, a Kansas City meteorologist who one day develops the capacity to speak fluent Russian and the ability to read the exact intentions of everyone she meets. Orchestrating the paranoia from above is Colin Firth, playing the defense contractor boss Noah Scanlon, who puts the “deep” in deep state, while an always-brilliant Colman Domingo plays Hugo, the rogue employee determined to blow the whistle on the whole operation.

At the core of the resistance are Daniel and Margaret, bound together by a gravitational chemistry that makes their alliance inevitable. Surrounding them are their romantic partners, who represent different flavors of terrestrial skepticism. In a funny twist of cosmic symmetry, both skeptics are played by high-profile Hollywood nepo babies—though anyone launching a critique of inheritance here will have to contend with how good they both are. Eve Hewson (daughter of Bono) plays Daniel’s deeply Catholic girlfriend Jane, treating the alien revelation less like a political scandal and more like a crisis of the soul. On the flip side, Wyatt Russell (descendant of the Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn dynasty) plays Margaret’s musician husband, beautifully capturing the panic of a man who fears his wife’s sudden mind-reading abilities are just a horrific medical emergency.

There is one scene I cannot stop thinking about, less for its plot relevance or entertainment value than for its profound humanity. Caught in an existential crisis, Jane calls Sister Maura (Elizabeth Marvel) to ask if the world-changing secrets she’s harboring conflict with the tenets of her Catholic faith—specifically, the book of Genesis. As a non-believer who has spent a lot of time reading Genesis recently, I found their conversation deeply moving. Sister Maura’s answer offers a brilliant theological bridge, proving that ancient scripture and disruptive new truths can coexist, leaving the story of creation open to a much larger interpretation.

Ideas alone don’t propel blockbusters, though. Action does. Thankfully, Spielberg hasn’t lost his appetite for pure, relentless kinetic energy. Daniel spent years navigating digital firewalls, but now he is physically running for his life, trying to make his way to Hugo while Noah Scanlon and his corporate minions use every ounce of their firepower and technology to stay hot on his trail. Early on, after a botched apprehension, a bewildered Scanlon barks at the henchmen who let Daniel slip away, noting the absurdity that a guy who spends his entire life sitting behind a computer just completely outfoxed them. The resulting chases are brilliantly choreographed and, for my money, rank as exciting as anything in the early Indiana Jones movies.

When the final action sequence leads directly into the film’s ultimate payoff, I wasn’t prepared for how emotional I would find it. It is moments like this where Steven Spielberg proves why his entire cinematic footprint has generated enough value to rival the GDP of a small nation. He is a master technician, certainly, but at heart he remains an unmatched storyteller. At 79 years old, he is still operating at the absolute peak of his powers.

As for what those world-shaking truths in Disclosure Day actually reveal about the human condition?

I’m not saying it was aliens, but it was aliens.

___________________________________________

Disclosure Day opens in theaters everywhere on Friday, June 12.

The post Divine Intervention: finding the truth in Steven Spielberg’s <em>Disclosure Day</em> appeared first on The SunBreak.

In the beginning, there were the action figures.

1982 saw the initial release of the Masters of the Universe toy line, and Mattel, the line’s manufacturers, shrewdly took advantage of the brand recognition by producing an animated TV series (He-Man and the Masters of the Universe) that ran for two seasons in the ‘80s. Animated spinoffs, a live-action 1987 movie, a couple of animated features, a series reboot, and a mountain of toys and collectibles followed.

The franchise has proven so persistent that Mattel and Amazon MGM greenlit an honest-to-God big budget theatrical reboot. The end result, Masters of the Universe, hits theaters tomorrow. So yes, blond and buff hero He-Man (and his equally buff gallery of allies and antagonists) are getting another shot at success on the big screen. And unlike the fascinatingly bad 1987 movie, this would-be blockbuster arrives with Amazon MGM’s deep pockets and promotional muscle on its side. 

Whether the monetary and PR oomph leads to mastery of the box-office universe remains to be seen. But if you’re looking for a fix of frothy big-screen summer entertainment, this new Masters of the Universe scratches that itch pretty capably.

Things roll into action right off the bat, as the mythical world of Eternia is brutally attacked by the forces of the evil Skeletor (voiced by Jared Leto). Eternia’s king and queen (James Purefoy and Charlotte Riley) are imprisoned in their massive home, Castle Grayskull, and their young son Adam is hurtled across dimensions into the decidedly mundane reality of Oklahoma City.

Years later, the adult Adam (Nicholas Galatzine) winds up working in HR at an Oklahoma corporation, awkwardly navigating grown-up reality while prattling on about Eternia, magic swords, and epic battles at every opportunity. His fervor on the topic results in crushingly uncomfortable and ultimately failed first dates, and jeopardizes his job.

Adam then recovers the magical sword he lost during his childhood dimension-hop. And before you can say, “By the power of Grayskull,” he’s back on Eternia, reuniting with his former mentor, ex-Man at Arms Duncan (Idris Elba), and Duncan’s daughter Teela (Camila Mendes).  One new set of abs and one familiar loincloth later, Adam’s become a literal He-Man, and he and his fellow fighters head into battle with Skeletor’s evil forces.

Director Travis Knight’s track record includes the fantastic Kubo and the Two Strings, and the strong Transformers theatrical offshoot Bumblebee. Both reveal a director with a knack for character building and interpreting established properties. Masters of the Universe, alas, can’t quite clear the very high bar set by those previous movies, largely due to a wobbly screenplay by Chris Butler, Aaron Nee, and Adam Nee. 

The script hits most of the notes required by Fantasy Blockbuster ordinance, but there’s a curious deficiency of forward motion to the plot, with the pacing lurching in odd fits and starts. The attempts at addressing gender roles satirically just don’t connect as sharply as they did in the previous Mattel toy-based hit, Barbie. And in the end, this big-screen He-Man opus lacks the Wow factor that makes the best tentpole fantasy-action movies stand out. 

But for all its myriad flaws and missteps, Masters of the Universe still serves up a solid, entertaining good time at the movies. The abundant action sequences look great on a big screen, the world-building and production design deftly straddle the line between slavish homage and shrewd imagination, and though they lack Barbie’s sharp wit and rapid-fire consistency, the sometimes crude blasts of humor still land frequently. 

Crucially in a movie like this, the cast clicks top to bottom. With his voice swaddled in a darkly flowery English accent and plenty of cavernous reverb, Leto makes the most of Skeletor’s blend of snowflake whininess and full-throttle menace. Elba knows how to invest humanity in even the most vaguely-sketched of stock characters, and Mendes’ Teela makes for an appealing foil/possible romantic interest/inveterate badass. 

Ultimately, this adaptation rests on the brawny shoulders of Galitzine, and he’s the movie’s ace in the hole. It takes genuine acting chops to pull off Adam’s particular combination of schleppy charm, vulnerability, resolve, and innate sweetness, while still coming off as a genuinely formidable fighter when push comes to shove, and Galitzine’s more than up to the task. Even when Masters of the Universe descends into formula fantasy territory, the charismatic and effortlessly watchable actor at the center of this cartoon universe does, in fact, prove decisively that he has the power. 

Masters of the Universe opens in theaters nationwide Friday June 5. Image courtesy Amazon MGM Films.

The post <i>Masters of the Universe</i> serves up a good time by the power of Grayskull (and its leading man) appeared first on The SunBreak.

Liminal horror, to be certain, is enjoying a moment. 

The last six or seven years have seen an influx of liminal horror movies hit theaters and streaming, exploiting the dread inherent in an empty space that turns out to be larger, darker, and more incomprehensible than first meets the eye.

Elements of liminal horror have frequently surfaced in horror and fantasy cinema over the decades, but the current iteration represents a distinctively 21st century sub-genre, one descended directly from Creepypasta and other online content. 

Most liminal horror films deliberately, often proudly, avoid traditional three-act structure, frequently delivering corridors to nowhere, abandoned buildings rife with foreboding shadows, physics-defying settings that’d give M.C. Escher a massive aneurysm, and ambiguous endings that generate more questions than answers. And with most of the sub-genre’s purveyors skewing young millennial and Gen-Z, liminal horror taps into the queasy disorientation inflicted on those demographics by the economic, societal, and environmental disintegration of the world around them. They’re less a scream-filled roller coaster ride, and more a slow, creepy, inexorable walk into the unknown.

The very fluid, decidedly internal nature of the sub-genre breeds wild inconsistency, with a fair amount of its entries generating more frustration than fear (one of many examples of the former, Undertone, released theatrically last March). Fortunately Backrooms, director Kane Parsons’ cinematic mutation of his popular liminal horror video series, represents one of the stronger movies to ride the crest of this cinematic wave. 

Down-on-his-luck divorcee Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) owns and operates a struggling furniture store, spending his off-time largely drinking, wallowing in self-pity, and attempting to tame his deep-set anger via therapy sessions with his placidly patient shrink, Mary (Renate Reinsve). He’s living at such a low ebb that he sleeps in a display bed in the back of his store. 

One night, he’s awakened by a light emanating from an apparent seam in the wall of the showroom. He tries to pinpoint the source, and his exploration leads him to discover a portal into a large, labyrinthian network of backrooms cluttered with otherworldly detritus, swathed in deep shadows, and alive with strange growls and noises emanating from the space’s many dark corners. 

Clark soon recruits his two employees, Kat (Lukita Maxwell) and Bobby (Finn Bennett), to help him record and retrieve evidence of the backrooms’ existence. And eventually his therapist Mary’s drawn in. All the while, the space appears to be warping its occupants’ dreams and fears into something very tangible, and very, very threatening.

Then again, maybe it’s not. If you’re looking for a straightforward horror movie that follows standard tropes and neatly wraps itself up in a bow by the finale, look elsewhere. Once Backrooms establishes its characters and central conceit, it dives headfirst into an orgy of bizarre imagery, spasms of violence, and languid headiness with fever-dream fervor. And like most liminal horror, it’s much more of a haunting, haunted Rorschach test for a viewer than an assembly-line thrill ride.

How this goes down for the average viewer may vary. The sometimes patchy script by Parsons and Will Soodik sketches its characters adequately, but offers little by way of explanation, ground rules, or formula three-act momentum, and that’s bound to frustrate some.

Thankfully, Backrooms weaves a spell distinctive and arresting enough to ride out the rough spots. Parsons boasts some impressive skill in the director’s chair, successfully expanding the confining aesthetic of the original series into an immersive, genuinely chilling experience worth catching in a theater. He gets optimal mileage out of implying as much as he shows: the actual monster/s largely dwell in the shadows, just out of view, until things get nicely batshit near the end.

And while the script falls short on its characterizations, the work of the principals fills in the gaps surprisingly well. Clark is one messed-up piece of work, and Ejiofor gets inside the character’s barely contained aggression and despondence without alienating audience sympathy. Ejiofor’s performance, more than anything on the screenplay page, makes the places that Clark goes to (metaphorically and literally), all the more harrowing. The gradual assault on Mary’s unflappable, quiet exterior quickly escalates towards the end as the horrors of the backrooms reach their peak, and Reinsve’s acting captures Mary’s mounting fear and panic with far more depth than what’s in the script. 

Backrooms’ last few minutes recall H.P. Lovecraft, David Lynch, and Creepypasta all at once, with a strain of ironic humor punctuating the closing reel. And if its final shot fails to offer any resolution, Backrooms still packs a punch. You don’t have to understand an image on a Rorschach test to be deeply, wonderfully unnerved by it. 

Backrooms opens in theaters nationwide today, Friday May 29. Image courtesy A24.

The post <i>Backrooms</i> gets the liminal horror balance right appeared first on The SunBreak.

Amid festivals clogged with so many films with “prestige” ambitions, it’s a thrillingly welcome jolt when a really fun movie executes on a clever concept and is impeccably entertaining from top to bottom. And that was exactly the case when the good word of Tuner started rippling through queues at Telluride before putting on the full charm offensive in Toronto a week later. Making the transition from pulse-pounding documentary filmmaking to small-stakes crime romance, Daniel Roher does exactly that with a film that just moves from the jump and never lets up until the closing credits.

It helps that he has the infinite charms of Dustin Hoffman in his toolkit as Harry Horowitz, an easygoing owner of a venerable door-to-door piano tuning operation. Driving around the greater New York City area between opulent homes, ordinary apartments, and hallowed concert halls, he’s cheerfully upholding a decades-long profession for a dwindling audience of customers who need his services. Holding his own alongside the living legend is Leo Woodall as Niki White, hitting all the right notes as his pseudo-nephew and hardscrabble assistant whose hyperacute hearing and perfect pitch make him especially suited to the gig. Less superpower than curse, Woodall embodies a character who bears the psychological burden of having been prevented from fulfilling the promise of his incredible musical gifts. Instead, he makes his way through life behind a protective shell of constant ear protection and a world-weariness for connections.

The easygoing buddy comedy takes an eventful swerve when Niki’s hyperacute hearing gets his foot in the door of a far more lucrative side-gig of after-hours safecracking. With great power (and profitability), though, comes substantially greater risk. The criminal capering is fun while it lasts, but the film is situated in the real world of mounting debts, declining health, and runaway personal experiences. All push Niki deeper into an enterprise of criminal idiots while juggling a nascent relationship with a music composition student (Havana Rose Liu as Ruthie, admirably given plenty to do).

One of the most purely enjoyable movies I saw on last year’s festival circuit and as unlikely a follow-up to Oscar-winning Navalny as I could have imagined. While that doc hinged on one person’s stake in a massive geopolitical movement, there are some similarities in craftsmanship. Like that propulsive and keenly observed documentary about a Russian political figure crushed under the weight of an oppressive state, Tuner also has impeccable pacing and exceptional character work. Here, Roher balances the vibes of a great hang, introduces a sweet little romance, and develops the emotional stakes of found family while juggling an increasingly dangerous criminal enterprise.

I mostly know Woodall from television, but he gives a big screen performance here as Niki. Whether it’s the wisecracking yet sincere familial apprentice role to Hoffman (and Tovah Feldshuh as Harry’s wife Maria), a burgeoning relationship with Havana Rose Liu, or in heist sequences, he’s someone that quickly earns the audience’s affection and empathy. While the diverse settings in the life of a piano tuner turned accomplice look great through the lens of cinematographer Lowell A. Meyer, it’s more important that they sound great. It accomplishes this with an original score by Marius de Vries that situates us into the classical music environment and impressive sound design from Johnnie Burn (The Zone of Interest) that brings us inside Niki’s world. Working from a sparklingly crisp script he wrote with Robert Ramsey, Roher keeps the various threads in perfect harmony for a complete crowd-pleasing package that includes emotional resonance, rhythmic action and suspense, with plenty of heart and soul.

I couldn’t believe that it didn’t take home the audience award at TIFF, but as one of the most winningly charming movies I’ve seen in the last year, I’m certain it’ll crack the code on winning fans in wide release.

An earlier version of this review ran when Tuner had its Canadian Premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival. It arrives in local theaters on May 29
Image courtesy Black Bear.

The post Like its hero, <i>Tuner</i> has perfect pitch appeared first on The SunBreak.