The wait for anything new from Richard Kelly is as long as it is bereft. Continually revealing and rewarding though the films, their alternate cuts, and graphic-novel prequels may be, a child born the day after The Box released is now thinking about college. When we had an in-depth conversation with him a few years ago, Kelly promised that many things are in various states of development. We believe him, and we continue our wait as the modern American cinema wilts. To paraphrase Kent Jones on John Carpenter: we do not have so many great directors to spare that we can afford to let Richard Kelly fall through the cracks.

Now the tide might finally turn: Kelly, during an interview with GQ, casually announced “a gigantic novel” that will “be published later this year.” Eliding word on what that publisher may be, Kelly went on to explain some of what we might expect, and how it feeds into larger ambitions:

“It’s science fiction, is all I can say right now. It’s definitely big. It’s epic, and I’m really, really excited for that, to at least have something new put out into the world. I wish it was a movie, but right now we’re starting with a novel. That’s something that I wanted to prove to myself. That I could do it on my own, that I could actually deliver a novel. But also you look at Project Hail Mary, and you look at all of these movies, if you want to put something original out into the world, a novel is a great vessel for delivering it to a global audience. It makes it easier to greenlight a movie if there’s a book out there.”

Kelly has spoken fondly of Philip K. Dick (influences and references abound in Southland Tales) and Thomas Pynchon, while The Box adapts Richard Matheson. Those names might set expectations, and that Kelly has written more than his fair share of memorable dialogue keeps them afloat. And because fans can (in this one’s case, have) drive themselves crazy imagining what exactly he’s been developing over the better part of 20 years, a “gigantic” project—movie or otherwise—will be wholly welcome. I just wonder what words he’ll uses to describe a portal.

As part of the impressive Cannes Classics lineup this year, a new documentary examining the vast world of the legendary, late Chris Marker will premiere. Brecht Debackere’s Nostalgia for the Future, guided by the voice of Charlotte Rampling, follows a mysterious archivist who navigates the 550 boxes of Chris Marker’s estate to reconstruct a portrait of the man who chose to disappear behind his own images. Ahead of the world premiere, we’re pleased to exclusively premiere the first trailer.

Here’s the synopsis: “Guided by the narration of Charlotte Rampling, Nostalgia for the Future is a descent into the labyrinthine world of Chris Marker, the “best-known author of unknown films,” who spent a lifetime concealing himself behind a veil of pseudonyms and images of cats. Moving through a constellation of personal documents and film fragments, an archivist attempts to decode the man through the material traces he left behind. By repurposing and recontextualizing Marker’s own body of work, the film treats his images as “time machines,” transforming the archive into a landscape of living memory. Nostalgia for the Future is a meditation on memory, identity, and the power our past images hold over the futures we imagine.”

“Nine years ago, the idea was born to make a film about the most well-known director of unknown films: Chris Marker,” said director Brecht Debackere. “Like many, I began with the icons—La Jetée, Sans Soleil, A Grin Without a Cat. But that initial curiosity evolved into an eight-year immersion: an exploration of his books, his collaborations, and the vast, dizzying archive he left behind.”

See the exclusive trailer below.

Coming off two 2025 debuts and on the eve of his latest feature, Diary of a Chambermaid, premiering at Cannes, Radu Jude—perhaps striving to make Hong Sang-soo look like a layabout—is rolling cameras on a new film next month. Tentatively titled Love Diptych, it marks “a clearing of [his] obligation towards Romanian realities” and, like Kontinental ’25, exists in the shadow of Roberto Rossellini—in this case the director’s great L’amore, which placed Anna Magnani in two narratively separate, thematically related stories (or: a diptych). Production, supported in part by Rodrigo Teixeira, is expected to last just 13 days in the villages of Dârza and Sitaru. With an early 2027 premiere eyed, we wouldn’t be surprised to see Jude make yet another appearance at Berlinale or Rotterdam.

The announcement comes courtesy of Film New Europe, to which Jude offered this explanation:

“I spoke recently about Godard’s mention of R.W. Fassbinder’s ‘creative obligations’ towards Germany, and this is an idea I feel more and more drawn to. The independent film Love Diptych (working title) will be no exception, and represents a clearing of my obligation towards Romanian realities, towards the history of cinema (as it is a dialogue with L’Amore by Roberto Rossellini), towards the wonderful actors and film professionals who agree to work with me, towards the producers who believe in the project (Alex Teodorescu, Rodrigo Teixeira, Christos V. Konstantakopoulos, Volodymyr and Anna Yatsenko), and, last but not least, towards an idea about low-budget cinema as an essential form of filmmaking.”

Oana Maria Zaharia (Dracula, Bad Luck Banging), Nicoleta Hâncu, Endre Racz, and Jude regulars Șerban Pavlu and Gabriel Spahiu lead the film, in which Lydia Lunch, Pierre Weiss, and Ilinca Manolache are anticipated to make “special appearances.” Jude’s frequent DP Marius Panduru is behind the camera, while editor Cătălin Cristuțiu and costume designer Cireșica Cuciuc also return.

NYC Weekend Watch is our weekly round-up of repertory offerings.

Japan Society
Kazuhiko Hasegawa’s Anarchic Ethos features an ultra-rare print of The Man Who Stole the Sun—my pick for one of the 10 best films ever made—his other directing effort The Youth Killer on 16mm, and two screenwriting credits.

BAM
Films by Orson Welles, Alan Rudolph, Paul Thomas Anderson, the Coen brothers, Robert Zemeckis, Alex Cox, and Thom Anderson play in Pynchonesque; a 4K restoration of David Lynch’s The Elephant Man begins a run.

Film Forum
A retrospective of Max and Richard Fleischer runs the gamut from children’s cartoons to gritty thrillers; Luchino Visconti’s Bellissima conitnues screening in a new restoration; Gulliver’s Travels shows on Sunday.

Museum of Modern Art
A trilogy of films by Caroline Strubbe begins screening.

IFC Center
Nicolas Winding Refn’s Pusher trilogy has been restored; films by David Wain, Howard Hawks, and Mike Nichols comprise Renegade Rom-Coms; Werner Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams continues playing in a 3D restoration; American Dream and Harlan County USA show early while Blow Out, Police Story, Salò, and Benny’s Video screen late.

Nitehawk
The Virgin Suicides plays on 35mm early Saturday and Sunday; Bugsy Malone also screens.

Paris Theater
George Cukor’s Gaslight screens on 35mm this Sunday.

Metrograph
Marie and Bruce, Mother, Panic Room, Late Autumn, and Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore play on 35mm; restorations of The Headless Woman and The Taste of Tea, Wallace Shawn: Master Builder, Fraenkel Gallery Presents, and All the Single Mothers start while The Dog Dies, The Last Dreamers, and Actress as Auteur continue.

After his ambitious foray into harder sci-fi with The Empire, Bruno Dumont is returning to the coming-of-age film with his highly anticipated Directors’ Fortnight selection Red Rocks, following two gangs of kids on the French Riviera over the course of the summer as friendships and first attractions start to develop. Ahead of the world premiere on May 20, we’re pleased to exclusively debut the first trailer and poster.

With cinematography from Carlos Alfonso Corral, a regular collaborator of Roberto Minervini, the trailer teases a different register for Dumont than his recent spate of films, adopting a highly energetic feel as youthful as his subjects. Starring Kaylon Lancel (Géo), Kelsie Verdeilles (Eve), Louise Podolski (Manon), Mohamed Coly (Rouben), Alessandro Piquera (B), and Meryl Pires (Do), Red Rocks clocks in at 91 minutes.

Here’s the synopsis: “On the French Riviera, two gangs of kids compete in the perilous game of cliff jumping. Géo, barely five years old, discovers over the course of a summer a world where friendship blends with rivalry, and where the first stirrings of the heart emerge against the dazzling Mediterranean landscape.”

“Red Rocks marks a new turn in his filmography,” said the team at Directors’ Fortnight. “Shot in the French Riviera, with very young children, the film adopts a documentary-like approach, led by the deliberate use of wide-angle lenses. Once again, Dumont explores the grace that can emerge from cinema.”

See the exclusive trailer and poster (created by artist Bilal Hamdad) below:

Each week we highlight the noteworthy titles that have recently hit streaming platforms in the United States. Check out this week’s selections below and past round-ups here.

André Is an Idiot (Tony Benna)

There is an unbridled honesty to André Is an Idiot that is admirable, even if all of it doesn’t really work. It’s a simple, stark subject for a documentary: accomplished advertising creative André Ricciardi neglected to get a colonoscopy at the recommended age and when he finally did get one he learned he had Stage 4 Colon Cancer. In response to this death sentence, André decided to make a film about dying. It’s a bold idea, reflective of many of his ideas for commercials and otherwise. – Dan M. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

The Drama (Kristoffer Borgli)

Some critics are going to say The Drama is not about race, or that if it is, this is simply an accident born of colorblind casting. There is a reveal—the reveal the entire premise hinges on—early in the film that would perhaps make more sense to people if it had come from a white person. It’s definitely something that, historically, is more associated with troubled white American men. But this is a film, not real life, and The Drama presents us with a character viewers have never seen on the big screen before. – Jourdain S. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

Exit 8 (Genki Kawamura)

Gameplay simplicity and use of the trendy liminal horror subgenre made The Exit 8 a viral success––currently the game has sold over 1.5 million copies––which also saw a boost in popularity from streamers whose videos have amassed millions of views. But how do you create a feature-length film out of a game that could be beaten in a matter of minutes? For director and co-writer Genki Kawamura, it’s to rely on horror’s tried-and-true method of leaning into allegory, with Exit 8’s premise becoming a representation of how routines can trap us in cycles of bad behaviors. The film’s main character is The Lost Man (Kazunari Ninomiya), who we see on his daily commute in the Tokyo subway. While navigating the labyrinthine system of pedestrian tunnels, he gets a call from his recent ex-girlfriend who tells him she’s pregnant, and he has to tell her if he wants her to keep the baby. – C.J. P. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

Ragamuffin (Kaitlyn Mikayla)

In her first short, this director takes inspiration from her experiences as a childhood motocross champion. Ragamuffin (Sundance, 2025) focuses on a 12-year-old dirtbike rider who must navigate a male-dominated landscape while contending with her own sense of femininity. Shot on grainy 16mm, Mikayla’s film offers a vivid and authentic look at life on the racetrack.

Where to Stream: Le Cinéma Club

Send Help (Sam Raimi)

New Sam Raimi films are few and far between these days, but when one appears, the debate as to whether he’s an inherently mean-spirited director invariably rears its head. His last pure horror movie, 2009’s Drag Me to Hell, is often deployed as the smoking gun for this argument, even though its protagonist represents everything audience members should root against: a loan manager desperate for a promotion who wills evil into her life after making an elderly woman homeless. Released in the wake of the 2008 financial crash, it was a characteristically goofy and gross ghost story that managed to meet its moment, slowly joining the ranks of Raimi’s best-regarded films in subsequent years, where it remained stubbornly topical. Send Help is being heavily trumpeted as Raimi’s first horror effort since, but is far more tantalizing when viewed as a return to that nihilistic strain of corporate satire where anybody who wants to climb the ladder is mercilessly punished for their shameless capitalist aspirations. – Alistair R. (full review)

Where to Stream: Hulu

Also New to Streaming

Hulu

Rosemead

Kino Film Collection

American Delivery
Monk in Pieces

MUBI

Abouna
Monangambeee
Our Grand Despair
Taxi zum Klo

VOD

Fantasy Life
Lorne
Love Letters
Ready or Not 2: Here I Come

Loving modern cinema and admiring Tony Leung are essentially a one-to-one deal. One can look no further than Film at Lincoln Center’s recent retrospective of the actor: whether the title was a programming coup or something that’s played so often as to suggest every last New Yorker has seen it, the film starred Leung, and for that its tickets in the 268-seat Walter Reade proved almost impossible to acquire. This series came on the occasion of Ildikó Enyedi’s Silent Friend, which offers (taking into account dozens upon dozens of films) one of Leung’s quietest performances and, in his appreciably older appearance, a stark reminder that this actor has put decades of his life on the screen.

Having spent more time watching Leung than almost any actor, I know my fortune to have time with the man on his first visit to New York since The Grandmaster’s release in 2013. He speaks quietly and kindly, his expression moving from heavy contemplation to mirthful at a moment’s notice. (I imagine these are attributes for acting that cannot be taught.) For a man of such stature, Leung is almost comically lacking in pretension—a dark Adidas tracksuit underscored the relaxation—and compels a conversation shirked of burden.

You’re coming at the end of Film at Lincoln Center’s retrospective. You started acting young, and we can watch you from a man in his early 20s to today. In Silent Friend, it was sort of amazing to see you—even if it’s with a hair and make-up team—looking and sounding your 60 years. Your filmography is this history of your face, your body, your voice as it’s changed over decades.

Tony Leung: I didn’t do it by intention. [Laughs] I’m just very lucky: I started my career at a golden age of Hong Kong cinema. So I have a chance to work with a different crew, different directors, and have the chance to try different kinds of movies. But I don’t do it by intention. I never planned what I want to do next.

Without planning, you’ve had this amazing career—not just the films, but the people you’ve acted with. To name just the obvious: Maggie Cheung, Leslie Cheung, Chow Yun-fat, the Five Tiger Generals. In this film, it’s Léa Seydoux. Your characters can spend so much time alone in silence, but you’re also a very generous actor with your co-stars. What do you look for in a scene partner? What do you think actor co-stars bring out of you as an actor?

Pretty much depends on what kind of partner you have. If we know each other well and we have trust in each other, we can improvise and we can try something different in every scene. But that very much depends on what partner and how you build up your relationship with your partner; I think that’s very important. Just like when Leslie and I worked in Buenos Aires. We spent a lot of time hanging out together, we learned tango together, we learned Spanish together, we had dinner together—trying to figure out that special kind of relationship—and then, during that process, we built up trust and friendship that can be similar to the one in the movie [Happy Together].

Or me with Maggie: you need to love your actress [Laughs] in order to have that kind of truthfulness in your expression.

You can’t fake it.

Yeah, you cannot fake it. Because people can feel—audiences know you like her or not. [Laughs] You cannot fake. So this is how I work with my partner. But yeah: after the movie you have to tell yourself, “This is just a movie.” Need to go back to your private life.

Well, with Léa Seydoux in this film, you’re always communicating through the computer. So what kind of preparation did you do?

I met her in the Venice Film Festival first. And I find her very charismatic. She is a great actor. But when we do the shooting, we have, like, one or two dinners in Marbach in Germany before shooting. And during shooting, actually, we are on the same floor—we are doing it real-time, just in different rooms—so we rehearsed together with the director. Because our relationship is not that close, so it’s less difficult to work on, and because I only noticed her on TED Talk and I just tried to ask her to help me to work on… that kind of relationship is very shallow.

You don’t need to do too much on it. And when we rehearse and when the director hears our dialogue and thinks it’s okay, then we go back to our room and shoot it. I think that’s easier. You don’t need to spend so much time to communicate with Léa because we are foreigners to each other.

You’ve done romance, you’ve done comedy, you’ve done action. I think people sometimes forget that you’ve done some very dark material, like Cyclo or The Longest Nite…

Lust, Caution.

…Bullet in the Head. Even the original ending of In the Mood for Love was very upsetting. Silent Friend is a gentler film, very quiet. Do you have different comfort levels between playing extremely dark material, playing gentle material? Or is at all just acting?

I like to try different kinds of films or characters. Because you never know if you don’t try; you never know if you like it or not, or how far you can go. Yeah, so that’s why I have those extreme characters: I’m trying to explore myself through doing that character.

You’ve said that the films can stay with you for a long time after you finish them.

Yes.

Some of the films, I feel battered after watching them. I can’t imagine what it’s like to make them.

I think I’m still in the character of Silent Friend.

It’s probably a good place to be. Better place than Cyclo.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Yes. But what I can do is just… I don’t hang out with people in the entertainment industry besides work. I go back to my private life and live like what I used to be and let time pass. That’s my way to get out from that character.

Silent Friend is your first European production?

Mmm-hmm.

What accounts for the choices you make to work outside of Hong Kong? Is it just a fondness for their films?

I have no intention to work with them. It’s just: maybe that’s my destiny. I never plan; I let things happen. Things just come up naturally. And if I think it’s interesting, then I would take it. So everything is by chance; it’s not by intention.

I wonder if there are particular films or countries that you still feel like you haven’t got to, that you have an ambition for?

Expectations always… [Laughs] I don’t expect, but I really want to do a Japanese film. Because I’ve watched a lot of classic Japanese films, and I really love it. I once had a chance to work with a Japanese director, but somehow it didn’t work out.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa?

Yeah. I really want to do one.

He’s basically my favorite director, so I hope it can still happen.

[Laughs] Yeah, I really want to do it. Especially some new directors. Have you seen the movie called Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy?

Hamaguchi.

Ah, I love it.

Yeah, me too.

Wow, it’s so… it’s not like a script. It’s like your everyday dialogue. I met him at an Asian film festival. I said, “Wow, if I have a chance I want to work with you.” And I even asked him to show me all of his old movies, the black-and-white that he never released before. Wow, so interesting. I love him.

I know that you and Johnnie To were hoping to make a film in Japan.

Yes, we have a plan to do a project together after so many years. Because I met Johnnie To when I first started my acting career in television. So I’ve known him for a long time, and we plan to do a new project. We planned it in Hokkaido, but: doesn’t work. We cannot get the license for the firearms. So we are now planning to do it in someplace else. Because that story can happen everywhere, not just Japan. So yeah: we have a plan to work together, I hope, next year, because I still have two more projects. I have to finish that before working with Johnnie.

I don’t know if you and Wong have any ambitions to work together again.

Mmm… who knows? I don’t know. Who knows? If there’s a chance, why not?

Silent Friend enters a limited release on Friday, May 8.

It’s the most exciting time of the year for any cinephile: the Cannes Film Festival is set to kick off next week, running May 12th-23rd. Ahead of the festivities, we’ve rounded up what we’re most looking forward to, and while we’re sure many surprises await, per every year, one will find twenty films that should be on your radar. Check out our picks below and be sure to subscribe to our daily newsletter for the latest updates from the festival.

All of a Sudden (Ryusuke Hamaguchi)

Following up the shot-in-secret Evil Does Not Exist and Gift, Ryusuke Hamaguchi returns with a higher-profile feature, All of a Sudden. The French production, starring Virginie Efira and Tao Okamoto, landed at the top spot in our 100 most-anticipated films of 2026, and thus the Cannes premiere we’re most looking forward to. The French-language film, which draws inspiration from real-life letters in Makiko Miyano and Maho Isono’s book You and I – The Illness Suddenly Get Worse, clocks in at just over three hours and 15 minutes, and we can’t wait to experience every second. – Jordan R.

Bitter Christmas (Pedro Almodóvar)

Following up his first English-language feature, Pedro Almodóvar returned to Spain for Bitter Christmas (translated from Amarga Navidad), led by Bárbara Lennie, Leonardo Sbaraglia, Aitana Sánchez-Gijón, Victoria Luengo, Patrick Criado, Milena Smit, and Quim Gutiérrez. While technically not a Cannes premiere (it debuted in its native country a few months ago to strong acclaim) any new feature by Almodóvar is certainly an event. The less we know about the story the better, and we imagine Sony Pictures Classics will give this one a U.S. release come fall, as is routine. –Jordan R.

Butterfly Jam (Kantemir Balagov)

It’s been seven long years since Kantemir Balagov’s gripping second feature Beanpole debuted, and the Russian filmmaker, now working in exile, is finally back. Butterfly Jam, featuring the cast of Riley Keough, Barry Keoghan, and Harry Melling, was shot by Jomo Fray, cinematographer of the astounding Nickel Boys and All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt. The Directors’ Fortnight opener is said to tell the father-son story of a struggling Circassian family in Newark. – Jordan R.

Clarissa (Arie Esiri, Chuko Esiri)

Twin brothers Arie and Chuko Esiri are back with their sophomore feature, Clarissa, following the acclaim of 2020’s This Is My Desire. NEON acquired the Nigerian duo’s film in February, giving the project significant momentum in the Directors’ Fortnight sidebar at Cannes. Veteran Sophie Okonedo leads the cast as the titular Clarissa, with David Oyelowo and Ayo Edibiri supporting in what it seems will be meaty roles for all three, and editing courtesy of Aftersun‘s Blair McClendon. The screenplay, adapted by Chuko, is a reimagining of Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, in which Lagos socialite Clarissa prepares to host a house party only to be surprised by the arrival of childhood friends that she reflects on life with through the night. – Luke H.

The Diary of a Chambermaid (Radu Jude)

After last year’s Dracula and Kontinental ’25, the ever-prolific Radu Jude returns to Cannes for the first time in quite a while. The Diary of a Chambermaid, which will premiere at Directors’ Fortnight, features Dracula‘s Ana Dumitrașcu alongside quite a trio of French talent: Éric Rohmer regular Marie Rivière, Vincent Macaigne, and Mélanie Thierry. It follows a Romanian housekeeper in Bordeaux who spends her evenings rehearsing for a theater adaptation of Octave Mirbeau’s classic. – Jordan R.

Double Freedom (Lisandro Alonso)

Coming full circle, Lisandro Alonso’s new feature is a sequel to his acclaimed debut La libertad. Double Freedom (aka La libertad doble) catches up with woodcutter Misael (Misael Saavedra) a quarter-century later. While not a great deal more is known, it’s said to tell a meta tale about the importance of creative independence. After the near-decade wait between his prior two features, we’re glad to have Alonso back so soon. – Jordan R.

The Dreamed Adventure (Valeska Grisebach)

Another long-awaited return, Valeska Grisebach’s first feature since 2017’s Western will premiere in competition. The Dreamed Adventure is set on the border between Bulgaria, Greece, and Turkey, concern a woman who agrees to a deal to help an old acquaintance. She follows the hero on his adventure and enters dangerous territory, where she is confronted not only with her own past but also her desires. Despite only a few features to her name, Grisebach’s subtly powerful style is a gift and we can’t wait to see what she has in store here. – Jordan R.

Fatherland (Paweł Pawlikowski)

If the 2023 Cannes Film Festival was defined by Sandra Hüller with Anatomy of a Fall and The Zone of Interest, 2026 marks an even more impressive year. Following a staggering performance in the Berlinale premiere Rose and being a highlight of Project Hail Mary—plus before Digger arrives this fall—she leads Paweł Pawlikowski’s first film since 2018’s Cold War. Fatherland, shot by The Zone of Interest cinematographer Łukasz Żal, captures Thomas Mann’s road trip across Germany during the Cold War with his daughter Erika Mann. – Jordan R.

Fjord (Cristian Mungiu)

Returning after his powerful drama R.M.N., Cristian Mungiu has reunited A Different Man stars Sebastian Stan and Renate Reinsve for a family drama centered on a Romanian-Norwegian couple who move to the wife’s remote Norwegian hometown. “It’s about this huge polarization in the society of today,” the director told us earlier this year. “If you watch what is happening in a lot of countries, this difference between conservatives and progressives has gotten so big that people have started hating each other, literally, and hoping that the other side disappears, with nobody left in the middle. This is a problem for the society we are living in today. It’s not only that we have these wars and conflicts; it’s that every country has this ongoing war between these extreme views. And I think everybody is exaggerating a little bit in their own direction.”

Gentle Monster (Marie Kreutzer)

Corsage director Marie Kreutzer has teamed with Léa Seydoux and Catherine Deneuve for her next feature, Gentle Monster, which will debut in the Cannes competition lineup and is centered on two women, one a pianist and the other a special investigator, who confront dark truths about the men in their lives. After upending the standard period drama with Vicky Krieps, we’re curious to see how Kreutzer takes on modern life. – Jordan R.

Hope (Na Hong-jin)

Yet another director at Cannes making a long-awaited return, The Wailing helmer Na Hong-jin is back with his feature in a decade. The competition title Hope, already picked up by NEON, is a sci-fi feature set in a remote village as a local emergency spirals into a larger mystery. With the varied cast of Hwang Jung-min, Zo In-sung, Jung Ho-yeon, Taylor Russell, Cameron Britton, Alicia Vikander, and Michael Fassbender, we’re looking forward to one of only a few genre films at the festival. – Jordan R.

Kokurojo: The Samurai and the Prisoner (Kiyoshi Kurosawa)

Nearly fifty years into his prolific and propulsive film career, Kiyoshi Kurosawa is still breaking new ground. The Japanese auteur best known for Cure, Pulse, and other psychological horror-thrillers has regularly dipped out of his main subgenres or settings to explore other worlds (e.g., the life of a travel show host scouring the mountains and deserts of Uzbekistan in To the Ends of the Earth). But he’s never told a story set in feudal 16th-century Japan. Kokurojo will debut in the Cannes Premiere sidebar, rife with promise under the writer-director’s assured hand. He’s proven how well he handles mystery, and the core mystery of a murdered boy–along with a series of strange events that follow–sounds right up Kurosawa’s alley, even if the time and place represents fresh ground. – Luke H.

The Man I Love (Ira Sachs)

Coming off the terrific Peter Hujar’s Day, writer-director Ira Sachs returns to the historic art scene of New York City, this time set in the 1980s amidst the AIDS epidemic. Rami Malek is Jimmy George, a theater icon who “lives with the most tender and attentive of lovers,” played by Tom Sturridge. The in-competition film follows their impassioned desire to make art as a way of keeping themselves and their memory alive. With death looming over at least one of the main characters, the story is bound to be heartfelt, devastating, and, hopefully, a continuation of the terrific directorial instincts that have rendered Sachs an essential queer voice to date with films like The Delta, Keep the Lights On, and Passages. The cast is rounded out by Rebecca Hall and Ebon Moss-Bachrach.  – Luke H.

Minotaur (Andrey Zvyagintsev)

It’s been nine years since Russian writer-director Andrey Zvyagintsev made a feature film, and cinephiles are ready for the drought to end. One of the most revered filmmakers alive, working, and still in their prime (Leviathan, The Return, Loveless), Zvyagintsev has made a name for himself as a realist, minimalist visual storyteller who has a sixth sense for unearthing the raw emotion embedded in his films and capturing it with a quiet yet explosive undercurrent of devastation. His newest, Minotaur, which will premiere in competition, seems to follow in the footsteps of his favorite kinds of stories to tell. The synopsis reads: “A high-powered executive’s meticulously controlled existence unravels when professional crises, global chaos, and marital betrayal converge, pushing him toward a dangerous breaking point.” – Luke H.

Paper Tiger (James Gray)

Following Armageddon Time, James Gray is returning with what is said to be a tense, gritty story about two brothers pursuing the American dream––a subject the great director has explored at least a few times before, always with distinct clarity and understated emotion. Paper Tiger stars Adam Driver, Scarlett Johansson, and Miles Teller while offering a reunion with his Two Lovers and We Own the Night cinematographer Joaquín Baca-Asay. Read much more about what could be the American film of the year in Nick Newman’s interview with producer Rodrigo Teixeira. – Jordan R.

La Perra (Dominga Sotomayor)

First landing on our radar with 2018’s Locarno winner Too Late to Die Young, Chilean director Dominga Sotomayor is returning this year with the Directors’ Fortnight selection La Perra. It concerns a woman living on a remote Chilean coast whose quiet life is introduced to drama when her newly adopted puppy disappears. With Sotomayor’s evocative sense of place, we look forward to what awaits. –Jordan R.

Red Rocks (Bruno Dumont)

After his ambitious foray into harder sci-fi with The Empire, Bruno Dumont is returning to the coming-of-age film with his Directors’ Fortnight selection Red Rocks, following two gangs of kids on the French Riviera over the course of the summer as friendships and first attractions start to develop. We’re curious to see a perhaps different register for Dumont than his recent spate of films. – Jordan R.

Sheep in the Box (Hirokazu Kore-eda)

One of two incoming 2026 features from Palme d’Or-winning director Hirokazu Kore-eda (Shoplifters, Monster), Sheep in the Box bears striking narrative resemblance to Kubrick and Spielberg’s A.I.: Artificial Intelligence. Set in the near future, the story follows a husband and wife––construction company owner/operator and architect, respectively––who invite a boy robot into their lives to be their son. Sci-fi is a largely untapped genre for Koreeda, but films about family, whether biological or found, have long been a tenet of the Koreeda greats, which tees the premise up perfectly for a filmmaker like him. Perhaps Koreeda will collect his second Palme in eight years. – Luke H.

Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (Jane Schoenbrun)

After Jane Schoenbrun’s haunting, astounding second feature I Saw the TV Glow topped our list of the best films of 2024, we’ve been counting down the days for the release of their follow-up. Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, which stars Hannah Einbinder and Gillian Anderson, explores a complex relationship on the set of a slasher franchise. Unlike most Cannes premieres, this one will also arrive before the summer ends, and the enticing teaser has us counting the seconds. – Jordan R.

The Unknown (Arthur Harari)

The movie star might be dead, but the actor-as-auteur is a concept to embrace so long as Léa Seydoux keeps making movies. Three years since The Beast, one of her two leading roles at Cannes this year boasts a similar-sounding conceit: where Bertrand Bonello’s sci-fi film spanned eras, Arthur Harari’s project opts for gender-swapping psychological drama wherein a man (Niels Schneider) awakens one day to find himself in the body of a woman (Seydoux). The Unknown‘s first still already portends another major turn by the defining actress of our moment. Also: Radu Jude is in this? – Nick N.

Honorable Mentions

As always is the case, there’s more to highlight beyond our 20 most-anticipated premieres. Also premiering in competition are new films from Asghar Farhadi, Rodrigo Sorogoyen, Lukas Dhont, Léa Mysius, László Nemes, and Kôji Fukada, while Un Certain Regard features Jordan Firstman’s Club Kid and Everytime, from The Trouble with Being Born director Sandra Wollner.

Elsewhere there is Nicolas Winding Refn’s Her Private Hell, which will open in U.S. theaters this July, and Train to Busan director Yeon Sang-ho’s Colony, which arrives in the U.S. this August. Volker Schlöndorff makes a return with Visitation, and we’ve heard strong early buzz for the Midnight animation Jim Queen. Though already embroiled in controversy due to its A.I. usage, we’re curious to see Steven Soderbergh’s John Lennon: The Last Interview.

At Directors’ Fortnight, we also can’t wait to see Clio Barnard’s latest, I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning, and July Jung’s Dora, amongst what we imagine will be many surprises. Zachary Wigon is also back with the horror feature Victorian Psycho, starring Maika Monroe, Thomasin McKenzie, and Jason Isaacs, premiering in Un Certain Regard.

The Cannes Classics lineup is also full of treasures, among them the long-awaited new restoration of Ken Russell’s The Devils, which will arrive October 16 in U.S. theaters for a one-week run.

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Welcome to The B-Side! Here we talk about movie stars! Not the movies that made them famous or kept them famous, but the ones that they made in between. 

Today we talk about one of the most successful performers of all time: Eddie Murphy! Our B-Sides include: Metro, Holy Man, Life, and I Spy. Our guests today are filmmaker and returning guest Nicholas Gray and incredible actor Alvin Keith. 

We discuss Eddie’s stratospheric rise, the perceived failure of the underrated Harlem Nights, and his underwhelming ‘90s output. In 1987-1988, Eddie’s stand-up special Raw was one of the most financially successful theatrical releases of the calendar year.

There’s the tonal strangeness of Metro, the fact that Eddie is not the lead of Holy Man, the subtle brilliance of Life, and the tired, cynical result that is I Spy. 

We talk about how Eddie only ever auditioned for Saturday Night Live as an actor, as well as his famous moment at the Academy Awards in 1988 in which he called out the lack of Black representation.

There’s this great quote from Carmen Ejogo about working with Eddie on Metro: “He was utterly charming but… did he tell me this? He gets told, “There’s this script, it’s a bit shitty, are you interested?” “No, not really.” “Well, you know, we’re going to give you $30 million to do it.” “Yeah, all right then.” And that’s where he’s at. He’s not doing it to be the next Poitier. It is what it is for him, and that’s what he’s like on set. He’s just showing up and getting paid, whereas I was like, ‘What’s the motivation here?’”

We debate Eddie’s inherent softness (and also his edge) and how it works to his advantage, him turning down Rush Hour in favor of Holy Man, and his music career!

Listen below and subscribe here. Be sure to give us a follow on Bluesky at @tfsbside.bsky.social. Enjoy!

Looking for what to see in theaters? Our feature, updated weekly, highlights our top recommendations for films currently in theaters, from new releases to restorations receiving a proper theatrical run.

While we already provide extensive monthly new-release recommendations and weekly streaming recommendations, as distributors’ roll-outs can vary, this is a one-stop list to share the essential films that may be on a screen near you.

Amrum (Fatih Akin)

There’s a reason behind the odd credit at the start of Amrum: “A Hark Bohm film by Fatih Akin.” While the two collaborated before on the latter’s In the Fade, this project had a different beginning. Bohm wrote the script to direct himself before realizing he wouldn’t have the strength to do so. Raised on the island of Amrum (and a teen during the film’s 1945 setting), it was surely a very personal project that Akin initially refused to take over. – Jared M. (full review)

Blue Film (Elliot Tuttle)

“Provocation” has become watered-down in recent times. All it takes to provoke someone is tossing off a bunch of half-assed offensive statements or aiming your cannon at every divisive mainstream issue on a quest to push people’s buttons. Getting a reaction out of people is easy; actually making them consider things is another matter entirely. Blue Film, by that token, is provocative in the truest sense of the term. Elliott Tuttle’s film seeks to unsettle, question, and, yes, provoke you. But his masterful two-hander wants, more than anything, to extend understanding to both men at the center, asking you to see them as flawed humans with depth and complexity, even if we’d rather not. – Devan S. (full review)

Blue Heron (Sophy Romvari)

Blue Heron, Romvari’s feature debut, once again mines the director’s own history, following a Hungarian family of six as it settles in a nondescript stretch of suburbia outside Vancouver. The opening line, “I struggle now to remember much of my childhood,” belongs to the youngest child, Sasha (Eylul Guven), the film to her older stepbrother Jeremy (Edik Beddoes), a sullen, taciturn adolescent with a history of self-destructive behavior no one has learned how to deal with, much less address. Yet Romvari refuses to write him off as a troubled child. Yes, the kid is most certainly not all right, but he traverses Blue Heron as its most mysterious, elusive character, and that impenetrability is a measure of Romvari’s empathy. Rather than pathologizing his pain––a tendency his own parents succumb to––she invites us to sit with it and bask in his drawn-out silences, in the gaps between the words and imperfect memories that grown-up Sasha (Amy Zimmer), in the film’s second half, will try piecing together. – Leonardo G. (full review)

The Drama (Kristoffer Borgli)

Some critics are going to say The Drama is not about race, or that if it is, this is simply an accident born of colorblind casting. There is a reveal—the reveal the entire premise hinges on—early in the film that would perhaps make more sense to people if it had come from a white person. It’s definitely something that, historically, is more associated with troubled white American men. But this is a film, not real life, and The Drama presents us with a character viewers have never seen on the big screen before. – Jourdain S. (full review)

Faces of Death (Daniel Goldhaber)

Director Daniel Goldhaber and co-writer Isa Mazzei are intimately familiar with the darker side of the Internet. Their 2018 debut, Cam, remains among the quintessential horror films of the Internet age, and with their reboot / remake / reimagining of Faces of Death, they bring the past into startling view of the present. It’s a film that recognizes there’s a little bit of a sicko in all of us, and there may be nothing we can do about it. – Devan S. (full review)

The Last One for the Road (Francesco Sossai)

It doesn’t take long to work out where you are in The Last One for the Road––for the backroads of Veneto, Italy, Francesco Sossai’s delightful new movie has the unmistakable specificity of a life spent there. What you instead start to wonder is the when of it all. The protagonists are a pair of rogues in their 50s––one of whom, Doriano (Pierpaolo Capovilla), wears a shirt the color of a tobacco stain, the other, Carlobianchi (Sergio Romano), a style of bushy mustache I’ve rarely seen onscreen since Bruno Ganz sported a similar one in The American Friend. Only after stumbling into a group of Gen Z students––the most visible dressed in the headgear of an Egyptian goddess––late at night along a Venice canal do we realize that our heroes exist in the here and now. If it wasn’t for their innate knack for catching last orders, regardless of the watering hole, you’d almost call them men out of time. – Rory O. (full review)

Miroirs No. 3 (Christian Petzold)

Christian Petzold’s fifteenth feature Miroirs No. 3 marks his fourth with Paula Beer, the actor-muse he first directed in 2018’s Transit, a film that shares significant themes with his newest––chiefly that of total strangers inexplicably recognizing each other and immediately feeling a deep, soulful bond with nary a word. Needless to say Miroirs No. 3 is, like the others, an enigma. – Luke H. (full review)

Our Land (Nuestria Tierra) (Lucrecia Martel)

Before Our Land (Nuestra Tierra), there is a solemn parade of quiet production logos. This is often the case with films of political and historical importance. The stories that are the most vital are often the most difficult to tell and almost always arrive at a delay. In 2018, a local landowner named Dario Amin and two retired police officers, Luis Gomez and Eduardo Sassi, were finally tried for the murder of Javier Chocobar, an elder member of the indigenous Chuchagasta community in northwest Argentina’s Tucumán Province. The events leading up to the murder, which occurred in October 2009, were caught on video. Yet it took 9 years for the Argentinian government to recognize the Chuchagasta community’s pleas for justice. – Jourdain S. (full review)

Silent Friend (Ildikó Enyedi)

Hungarian director Ildikó Enyedi is best known for her 2017 Golden Bear-winning film On Body and Soul, where an unlikely pair of characters met in a dream and, as deer, fell in love. This remarkably tender Berlinale winner is, in many ways, the precursor to Enyedi’s newest film, notwithstanding the fact that in-between came The Story of My Wife (2021), a period drama of an obsessive love affair starring Léa Seydoux. Not to say the latter is irrelevant: the English-language debut allowed Enyedi to expand the details of her singular worlds beyond language and cement herself as a European auteur to whom actors flock. While Silent Friend stars the indomitable Tony Leung (and also Seydoux in a small role), the real star of this film is a ginkgo tree. If On Body and Soul was fauna, Silent Friend is flora. – Savina P. (full review)

The Stranger (François Ozon)

Nobel laureate Albert Camus is one of the most consequential thinkers and writers in the French language, having created absurdist characters and worlds that reflect a view on human existence which remains hauntingly unique. His debut novel The Stranger has seen two notable cinematic adaptations since its publication in 1942: once by Italian maestro Luchino Visconti (1967), most recently by Turkish director Zeki Demirkubuz (2001, under the title Fate). A fellow Frenchman has finally stepped up to revive Camus’ words for the big screen as they had originally sounded; perhaps not coincidentally, it proves the most faithful, hypnotically evocative version. – Zhuo-Ning Su (full review)

Two Pianos (Arnaud Desplechin)

The past rears its not-so-ugly head in Two Pianos, Arnaud Desplechin’s latest film exploring the ways gorgeous people make an even bigger mess out of the messiness of life. Set amidst the world of classical music in Lyon, this tale of a tortured pianist’s reunion with his also-tortured first love contains the literary and melodramatic elements one normally expects from Desplechin, who––having not received a theatrical release since 2017’s Ismael’s Ghosts––has unfortunately fallen out of favor in the U.S. That’s not the case in his home country, where he’s maintained a prolific output that continues attracting some of France’s top actors. With Two Pianos he’s put together a rich, thoughtful look at how we can shape our lives around our biggest regrets. – C.J. P. (full review)

Two Seasons, Two Strangers (Sho Miyake)

Two Seasons is the third in a wonderful recent run by Miyake, joining Small, Slow But Steady (2022) and All The Long Nights (2024). With each he has shown a remarkable ability for mixing porcelain-like levels of craft and detail with stories of comparatively messy human compassion––a cinematic mix that never fails to delight. Despite racking up some awards for those films, his work plays at the kind of modest register that often keeps filmmakers of his ilk relatively below-the-radar or, at the very least, just shy of name recognition. Winning the Leopard might be the push that elevates him to auteur status and perhaps (with respect to Locarno) the biggest of the big competitions, where I feel he belongs. – Rory O. (full review)

Two Women (Chloé Robichaud)

If, by and large, American cinema has taken a puritanical view on sex, leave it to our neighbors up north to craft a refreshingly frank, hilarious comedy of manners about seeking erotic pleasure when life has hit a dead end. Scripted by Catherine Léger from her own stage play Home Deliveries, itself inspired by Claude Fournier’s 1970 feature Two Women in Gold, Canadian director Chloé Robichaud’s Two Women is playful, raucous, and wholly heartfelt, a film not afraid to explore the dark corners of life when it comes to depression, infidelity, and the dullness that can set in during new motherhood. Its comedy-first approach comes with a comforting sense of tenderness and fleetness, shot on 35mm with a lively warmth by cinematographer Sara Mishara. – Jordan R. (full review)

More Films Now Playing in Theaters

• The Christophers
• Deep Water
• Eagles of the Republic
• Erupcja
• Exit 8
• Fuze
• Hokum
• Mile End Kicks
• The Misconceived
• The Mountain
• Normal
• Omaha
• Project Hail Mary
• Ricky

Read all reviews here. For our NYC-specific repertory round-ups, including many films that will tour the country, bookmark NYC Weekend Watch.

Note: This review was originally published as part of our 2025 Venice coverage. The film opens in theaters on May 8.

Hungarian director Ildikó Enyedi is best known for her 2017 Golden Bear-winning film On Body and Soul, where an unlikely pair of characters met in a dream and, as deer, fell in love. This remarkably tender Berlinale winner is, in many ways, the precursor to Enyedi’s newest film, notwithstanding the fact that in-between came The Story of My Wife (2021), a period drama of an obsessive love affair starring Léa Seydoux. Not to say the latter is irrelevant: the English-language debut allowed Enyedi to expand the details of her singular worlds beyond language and cement herself as a European auteur to whom actors flock. While Silent Friend stars the indomitable Tony Leung (and also Seydoux in a small role), the real star of this film is a ginkgo tree. If On Body and Soul was fauna, Silent Friend is flora.

Professor Tony Wong (Leung) is a neuroscientist researching consciousness in babies; Silent Friend‘s opening shows his experiment as an EEG headset translates brain data into spectral visualizations gracing the whole screen. He’s in Marburg, Germany, presenting his progress to students and colleagues, but soon enough COVID-19 would confine him to the campus grounds with a centuries-old ginkgo biloba tree, the centerpiece of the university’s botanical gardens. At first the narrative seems preoccupied with consciousness and perception––the big question that is as existential as it is scientific––but when the professor says “research is just a series of attempts to find metaphors,” one knows they’re not in for a peer-reviewed article version of a film. There is science and there is fiction in Silent Friend, but per sci-fi, it’s reminiscent of Kogonada’s After Yang in style––unassumingly tender and so very grounded. 

Three parallel timelines run across Silent Friend, with the ginkgo tree as a consistent presence––an object of fascination and a quiet observer of lives private and public. In 1908, a black-and-white 35mm world envelops Grete (Luna Wedler), the first female student at the university, in a tight embrace. Her admission is not without any pushback, but her brilliance perseveres as she devotes more of her time to researching plants outside taxonomy. Further, Grete’s analogue practices (including, at one crucial point, photography) focus on the exterior, aesthetics, shapes, and forms of plants––not for a particular fascination with surfaces, but as an overlooked gesture of appreciation, as science tends to objectify more than admire. Cinematographer Gergely Pálos (who has previously worked with Roy Andersson) doesn’t rely on the 35mm look to shape the mood of the early 20th century; he instead lets us see through Grete’s eyes (and visor) a world of wonder in a single cabbage. When jumping to 1972, Pálos resorts to a vivid, glimmering 16mm aesthetic to convey the possibilities of post-1969 university life, where the shy Hannes (Enzo Brumm) finds himself smitten with a girl and her geranium plant. 

Humans in Silent Friend are humbled when they finally accept the falsity of their reign. If plants observe us just as we observe them, what do they see? While Enyedi doesn’t ask the straightforward question, the film’s tripartite narrative comes back to it again and again. Together with Pálos, the Hungarian director might have just invented a new cinematic grammar which decenters the human face––decisively, the sustained attention to the ginkgo tree (the actual protagonist) needs a new way of looking, unshackled from the camera’s anthropocentric perspective. What’s a close-up of a tree, then? Is it a frame of the trunk up-close, or the bark covering it? A branch? Leaves? Or of one single leaf? Pálos tries all of the above, familiarizing the camera with ginkgo physiognomy so well that even a wide shot of it feels as impactful as a facial close-up. 

Immersing yourself in the daze of Silent Friend is like accepting a joyous gift, even if you don’t ultimately believe that plants can or want to communicate with us. With her exquisite new work, Ildikó Enyedi has achieved the improbable goal of making non-human, humanistic cinema that is inclusive and reverent without falling into idolization (of plants) or condemnation (of humans). Maybe this is what the ecological film of the future should be: a tender romance between species (humans and plants, or cinema and audiences).

Silent Friend premiered at the 2025 Venice Film Festival.

Note: This review was originally published as part of our 2026 IFFR coverage. The film opens in theaters on May 8.

Seven years after collaborating on The Plagiarists, writers James N. Kienitz Wilkins and Robin Schavoir return with The Misconceived—another incisive, inventive movie about the anxieties faced by the never-quite-made-it creative class. Directed by Peter Parlow, that earlier film played with the tropes of found-footage horror to tell a story about untested urban liberalism and the dual tyrannies of artistic authenticity and writer’s block. The Misconceived—described in press notes as an acidic satire and more than lives up to that corrosive billing—is a little harsh on the eyes, but it swims in similarly rich thematic waters and doesn’t skimp on formal experimentations. 

The movie, which focuses on the renovation of a house in upstate New York, is itself a reconstruction of sorts—it was created using Unreal, the graphics engine used to render popular open-world video games like Hogwarts Legacy and the recent Final Fantasy VII remake. If the intention here is to have some fun while also making Kienitz Wilkins and Schavoir’s perennially disappointed characters feel even more like NPCs in their own lives: mission accomplished. 

Indeed, for such unreality, this story’s emotions are all too real. Its protagonist, Tyler (John Magary), is the kind of guy who might describe himself as a writer who also does some work as a handyman—even if you just know, in his heart of hearts, he puts them the other way around. The Misconceived duly plops him into a reliably emasculating situation: only after showing up with his work crew does Tyler realize that his new employer, Tobin (Jesse Wakeman), is a former college roommate—a sculpture artist with a cheerier disposition and an upcoming spot at the Whitney Biennial, to boot. For the most part, The Misconceived doesn’t build towards a conflict or resolution—Tobin is mostly supportive and has plenty hang-ups of his own, including a slightly chilly relationship with his wife. Instead, it simply allows the appearance of a more successful contemporary to fan the flames of Tyler’s feelings of inadequacy. “I’m at the time in my life,” he explains at one point, trying to not look too crestfallen, “where I’ve gotta put survival first.”

This, of course, is fertile ground for Kienitz Wilkins and Schavoir to work with: across The Misconceived‘s 88 minutes, which mostly play out during working hours and takes us some way towards the house’s completion, the filmmakers allow their characters to bounce off each other—sometimes genially, usually not—in a series of dialogue-dense sequences that are either caustically funny or just downright caustic. Whether the video-game-cut-scene vibes outstay their welcome will depend on the viewer’s tastes—I must say that, without a great deal of wide shots, they got a little repetitive after a while, but the film makes enough interesting choices to keep things moving. To wit: while Tobin and Tyler are motion-captured in the usual way, other characters, like a foul-mouthed younger colleague named Mikey [Jess Barbagallo], are rendered to look like cartoons.

The Misconceived premiered in IFFR’s Harbour sidebar, the Dutch festival’s home for more adventurous fare. This felt like the right place for it—even if the LantarenFenster Kino’s usually welcome tendency to crank the volume left me a little wind-blasted by Kienitz Wilkins and Schavoir’s restless screenplay. Soaking up the movie’s look and its winking, cine-literate dialogue (filmmakers mentioned include the Safdies and Sean Baker, and even Richard Brody’s name gets dropped with a nice little Francophile flourish) I was reminded of Richard Linklater’s Waking Life—a similarly verbose if less-pessimistic movie, albeit one from a decidedly less-pessimistic time. Mileage may vary, but there are some similarly cosmic things to take from The Misconceived. Just don’t expect reassurance to be among them. 

The Misconceived premiered at the 2026 International Film Festival Rotterdam.