Alex Vlack’s The Revisionist has all the elements of a great comedy of manners before reverting to something quite obviously foreshadowed in the film’s opening scenes. Perhaps having that context will give some extra gravity upon rewatching, but it’s still a shame the film didn’t stick to what could have been a refreshing satirical character study had it played things more straight. This is a rare case where a risk derails what might have been something brilliant, had it developed in a less-convoluted, more conventional way.

Elise (Alison Brie) stars as a novelist-turned-academic who finds herself coaching her husband Jacob (Tom Sturridge)—an advertising-man-turned-biographer—as he attempts to write about his father David (Dustin Hoffman). David is a legendary raconteur who refuses to share his stories with his son. He is more comfortable, as most are, with John (André Holland), the charming ex-lover of Elise and best friend of Jacob. John arrives so perfectly on cue that it’s shocking his last name isn’t MacGuffin. Having been away from their college town for years on his own adventures, John returns without a job or a plan, yet somehow manages to seduce everyone.

Here is where The Revisionist—premiering in a festival full of documentaries not just authorized by the celebrities they chronicle, but also produced by their camps—could have satirically dug into the concept of the “authorized” biography. Jacob promises his publisher access that David refuses to give. Instead, John agrees to tape-record David’s stories once they start hanging out, turning those recordings over to Jacob until John is presented with an offer from the past that he can’t refuse.

Meanwhile, Elise brings John in to guest-lecture at the college, where he offers words of wisdom to an aspiring class and helps a student develop a story that seems to drag in the middle. John seems to have that effect on everyone he encounters, even encouraging a receptionist at The New Yorker to never give up, despite the fact that he has seemingly ghosted his friends and the literary world for at least 15 years.

While individual scenes—especially those with David and John—outshine the A-story of Jacob and Elise struggling to find their voices, what feels like a fatal flaw in the moment is actually part of the design in Vlack’s script. Making the leap from the world of nonfiction and museum exhibitions into feature filmmaking, Vlack is no stranger to colorful, interesting characters with stories worth telling. There are moments that are smart and insightful about the creative process, even if the plot takes several turns as Elise seeks David’s advice on when to cross ethical lines before eventually seducing the willing John. If John and David’s friendship seems unbelievable and forced… well, that is by design.

The Revisionist is ultimately a film about the control of the creative process filled with individual moments that open fascinating possibilities the film doesn’t quite fulfill. It relies on obvious plot twists that ultimately suggest a rushed first draft—which is, again, by design. This is perhaps the least-interesting part of the creative process: the early drafts that are generally buried on a laptop before they are fully fleshed out.

Had Vlack kept to the initial satirical scenario, it might have worked beautifully. The elements, including a top-notch cast, are all here for a smart comedy of manners about a brilliant man who resents his dull son and would rather have his story told by a charming guy on his wavelength. The creative process is instead put on display in a way that feels more tedious than innovative as Elise engages in her own form of wish-fulfillment while straddling ethical lines. Once I figured out where it was going, I started losing interest. That is a shame, because The Revisionist is strongest when it is observing David’s orbit—a legend who knew everyone, sleeps late, and offers you a Negroni at 11:00 AM. The creatives around him are quite dull, even if they have nearly perfect lives; perhaps the point is that certain academics can lose touch when chasing authenticity in the least-authentic way possible.

The Revisionist premiered at the 2026 Tribeca Festival.

Returning to feature filmmaking five years ago with The Power of the Dog, we’ve been waiting to see when Jane Campion will come back to the big screen. While not a new project, this summer will see the release of a new 4K restoration of her Palme d’Or winner The Piano, starring Holly Hunter, Harvey Keitel, Sam Neill, and Anna Paquin. As revealed at CinemaCon, it’ll arrive in theaters on July 24 and now Sony Pictures Classics has unveiled the new trailer and poster.

Here’s the synopsis: “Ada––mute since birth––her nine year old daughter and her piano arrive to an arranged marriage in the remote bush of nineteenth century New Zealand. Of all her belongings her husband refuses to transport the piano and it is left behind on the beach. Unable to bear its certain destruction, Ada strikes a bargain with an illiterate tattooed neighbour. She may earn her piano back if she allows him to do certain things while she plays ; one black key for every lesson. The arrangement draws all three deeper and deeper into a complex emotional, sexual bond remarkable for its naive passion and frightening disregard for limits.”

Recently shown at American Cinematheque, they note “the new 4K UHD restoration was supervised and approved by Jane Campion and her director of photography, Stuart Dryburgh. This new 4K restoration was made in the United States in Dolby Vision HDR 16-bit 4K from the original 35mm image negative scanned on Arriscan at the Fixafilm lab in Australia. Color grading was supervised and approved by Jane Campion and Stuart Dryburgh, with a 35mm print from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences used as a reference. The original 5.1 audio mix was remastered from the original 24-track digital.”

See the trailer and poster below.

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

Film at Lincoln Center
History, Italian Style begins with Visconti’s Senso and The Leopard, films by the Tavianis, and Florestano Vancini’s Liberty on 35mm.

Museum of Modern Art
The exquisitely programmed Universal Westerns begins with multiple films by John Ford, Anthony Mann, Jacques Tourneur, and more.

BAM
Black Cops, Spies and Overseers begins with 35mm prints of Seven, Django Unchained, Ricochet, and Cleopatra Jones.

Museum of the Moving Image
Real American Tales includes Nothing But a Man on 35mm and Days of Heaven.

Anthology Film Archives
Allen Ginsberg Centennial features films by Robert Frank, Nam June Paik, Jonas Mekas, and more.

Film Forum
A centennial of Marilyn Monroe brings films by Howard Hawks, Billy Wilder, Otto Preminger, George Cukor, and more.

Roxy Cinema
Tony Scott’s Deja Vu and Domino play on 35mm through the weekend; a print of Star 80 shows on Friday night.

IFC Center
4K restorations of Mulholland Dr., Terminator 2, A New Leaf, and Mysterious Skin screen daily, as does Cave of Forgotten Dreams in 3D; True Lies, The Terminator, The Warriors, Purple Rain, and The Blair Witch Project play late.

Nitehawk Prospect Park
A print of Strangers on a Train plays early on Sunday.

Metrograph
School on Fire and Lust for Life play on 35mm; Ringo Lam on Fire and Louis Malle: Portraits of America start while Maybe If You Smile, Hotel Europa, The Dog Dies, Thrust It, and The Lives of the Most Excellent Painters continue.

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 discuss perhaps the most likeable movie star alive: Goldie Hawn! Our B-Sides include: Butterflies Are Free, The Duchess and the Dirtwater Fox, Seems Like Old Times, and Deceived. Our guest today is dear friend Jen Johans, host of the superb Watch With Jen Podcast!

We chat about Goldie’s hot start on Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In and the early Oscar she won for her dynamic, engaging performance in Cactus Flower. It was her first film role and she was still on Laugh-In! Hawn quickly became a commercially-friendly representation of the counterculture movement, as evidenced in Butterflies Are Free.

There’s debate about Goldie on the production of Jonathan Demme’s ultimately troubled Swing Shift (though she did officially meet Kurt Russell on set, so a huge silver lining!) and how much it hurt her reputation. We celebrate the TV Specials, how Goldie Hawn is her given name, and her autobiography. We enjoy the absurdities of Deceived, posit that maybe Protocol was a proto-Ishtar, and admire the shagginess of the stars in 1970s movies. There’s mention of Goldie’s 1972 album! Her charity comes up! How huge of a star Neil Simon was in the ‘70s and ‘80s comes up! There’s a lot to chew on in this episode. Enjoy!

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

Summer is here with Woody and the gang, He-man, DC supers, “jackasses,” Spielberg aliens, and a Cindy and Brenda reunion all arriving to scoop up most of your local theater screens. That doesn’t leave a lot of room for everyone else.

This season always carries a bit of a wild west atmosphere as a result. Enough that you wouldn’t blame smaller studios for wanting to avoid such crazy competition altogether.

Enter the counter-programming angle. When not everyone trusts big IP to be worth the price of admission anymore, it might just prove the perfect time to release that foreign action flick or festival darling after all. The posters below go a long way towards providing an audience’s evolving attention the alternative road they crave.

Sharp objects

It’s one thing to talk about a poster like Akiko Stehrenberger’s Maddie’s Secret (limited, June 19) and another to learn about its intent and influences from the artist herself. Because you can see the obvious earmarks to King Kong with John Early serving as the damsel and the fork standing in as the monster. This is a film about a food influencer dealing with bulimia, so the themes shine through perfectly. Yes, the utensil is causing her strife as a villain, but things are always more complicated.

What you might not see, however, are the design influences. The color choices and contrasts with “shimmering” legs à la Showgirls and an Interview Magazine cover. It’s easy to miss how important angle and execution become to both pay homage and build something wholly new and unique. Because who is Maddie really scared of in this image? It’s not the fork. This surreal, dream-like imagery is telling us the fork holding her in its grip doesn’t reveal it as a threat as much as it is a tool revealing her true horror.

The sharp object on P+A’s The Death of Robin Hood (June 19) is also a tool alluding to unseen danger as Hugh Jackman carries his arrows into what we assume is battle—the darkening sky, the flaming embers. There’s a weight to the drama that’s inherent in the color palette as well as the specific cropping choice of the composition. We don’t get to see his eyes—only the stern profile of his mouth paired with the determination of his gait. We don’t get to see the object of his attention—only the almost monochrome atmosphere alluding to its danger.

The tagline is great too: “He was no hero.” It speaks to this rendition of the myth not adhering to the usual tropes of Robin Hood being a man of the people who fights tyranny and gets the girl—it speaks to a darker truth of sacrifice, futility, and guilt. There’s a reason those words are at the center and just as large as the title on this teaser. We’re supposed to read them first. We’re supposed to understand the world this poster provides a window into and erase the Disney version from our minds.

I find it a lot more effective than the alternative version: Jackman’s face superimposed with the same elements. You still get the blue hue and flying embers, but the title is now twice the size of the tag and all we can see is his face. Thus we don’t recognize a motive, an intent of action, as much as enter the character’s haunted mind. Maybe there’s no target at all. Maybe he’s just been left to battle the ghost of himself.

Drew Wills and BOND’s poster for The Furious (June 12) doesn’t have cutlery or weapons—just fists, boots, and a fantastic use of sharply measured perspective to put us into the action unfolding on both sides of this concrete corner. One kick pushes us in from the left to follow the “The” around the bend so “Furious” can slingshot us around to the carnage on the ground. And there at the center are stars Zie Miao and Joe Taslim dropping more bodies to join the wreckage.

Its kinetic image sets the mood and energy via an almost 45-degree tilt that keeps us off-balance while the actors hold firm. There are also three visual triangles dictating our focus within it. Two are formed by the perspective moving to the left and right of that central corner; the third enters from the top via the shortening lines of laurels and text. The latter leads our eyes downward as the former pushes us out to the edges. Our eyes never stop moving.

Khang Giate’s bloody illustration achieves a similar feel as the red splatters create a spiral of motion from the hammer to its victim while the triangular backdrop makes me think I’m inside EPCOT’s Spaceship Earth. Their other international sheets prove more generic with actor collages. Despite preferring those first two for their off-kilter compositions breathing life into the action, I can’t fault the studio for wanting a couple portraits too. Placing them side by side, however, hopefully shows the powers that style isn’t always about adding more to an image. Most times you just need a slight shift in perspective to turn heads.

Chunks

I have BLT Communications, LLC’s The Invite (limited, June 26) here because of the windows separating its cast list into two chunks that enhance the y-axis symmetry, but the more glaring feature is its Woody Allen font. The aesthetic is so unmistakable that you know it was intentional. After all, Variety did describe it as “like Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? redone as vintage Woody Allen.”

Regardless of that nod, however, I just like the clean design. A colorful couple number one meets a colorful couple number two beneath the tagline “It’ll be fun.” The cast list and title seem to be the same size to express the importance of the former while the claustrophobic leading of the names helps them fade into the colorful setting behind their glass panes to ensure the latter pops a bit brighter for extra attention.

The full sheet brings in a photo of the quartet and thus ruins some of the mystery behind that original tag. Whereas we could presume “fun” was more for us than the characters, this image shows the opposite. It’s just two couples enjoying each other’s time. It shifts the potential of fireworks into a promise of quiet wit. Is that what the film actually gives us? You’ll need to watch to find out. As the new tag states: everything is on the table.

The chunks of content making up the Bouchra (limited, June 26) poster aren’t naturally found like that bisected window. These segmentations are made by the artist to create a sort of triptych via two parts. The top two-thirds show an outdoor scene of a cliff looking out to water wherein the giant red title fills half the space. The bottom third is a black field housing an Arabic translation of that title with an illustration of the lead wolf.

There in the middle is a character jumping into the water to help our eyes move from the strobe-like color effect that occurs from the red-on-blue down to the calmer black to read “What’s on your heart?” and wonder what it is this film has in store for us. Anthropomorphic animals. Multiple languages. Animation. Heavy philosophical questions. It’s the sort of intriguing tease of possibilities that can sway a ticket buyer’s impulse to try something new.

That leads us to Beth Morris’s Promised Sky (limited, June 12) and its own gorgeously constructed triptych. While also composed of two disparate images, it too separates into three distinct fields. This time, however, they aren’t equal. Here, the bottom quarter holds the top of three faces (from the nose bridge up) on a white field while an expanse of water fills the top three-quarters. Then it’s the horizon line’s demarcation between blue ocean and blue sky that lets the top quarter stand alone as a backdrop for a bold-white title.

It’s an expert use of white space in the middle, whereas most designs would bring that title down so the white space breathes off the top of the page. It thus becomes less of an escape for our eyes than a carefully built window to draw us in for contemplation. That space becomes our focal point—confining us to look deeper and understand the gap between that “promise” and a reality that presumably doesn’t quite match. The characters take a backseat to their thoughts and emotions as signified by that Rothko-like field of blue.

Hand-made

Fresh off their collaboration on Bogancloch (which was in my Top Ten Posters of 2025), director Ben Rivers and designer Sam Ashby reunite on the poster for Mare’s Nest (limited, June 24). While the story about a young girl roaming an adult-less world is based on a Don DeLillo play, it seems there’s also a “film within the film” aspect wherein the children onscreen make their own a short (Rivers’ The Minotaur).

The poster’s handmade quality therefore appears thematic in nature—especially with the multiple cross-outs of “featuring.” We can assume the idea is that this was created by lead character Moon in-world, since the figure on the page has horns like that mythical beast. The circles become as much about reflection as duplication, inferring upon the layers of artifice in play in front of and behind the camera.

It’s also just a captivating image. The scrawled circle housing the title and credits in a child-like penmanship. The crescent moon alluding to the character’s name. The mysterious well of water being peered into as the sole landmark on an otherwise empty page. You cannot help but crave an answer to how it all fits in concert with the movie.

From hand-drawn to hand-sewn we go courtesy of a needlework Drunken Noodles (limited, June 26). Whether just inspired by the “thread painting” of Sal Salandra (as is the film) or taken from an actual piece of his (although this is much less homoerotic than the examples I found online), the choice to use that aesthetic for the poster is an inspired one.

It’s an avalanche of trees and buildings and faces (four men alongside a fifth figure that looks like Pan playing a flute) popping out between them that slides down the left side of the page. The stark white background forces us to go to the image first before riding its slope down to the title below. Simple, unique, fun.

The French counterpart gets a bit more risqué with naked men engaged in sex acts added to the woodland scene. It’s also a little more congested with the image blown up to fill half the page (bisected at a 45-degree angle from top left to bottom right) while the text is all moved to the opposite corner, but I won’t deny that the fabric background texture and embroidered title add a lot to the whole. It’s a case where both iterations prove successful in their own way.

And that leaves Flag Day (limited, June 12) to anchor this month’s feature and let it end exactly as it began: with artwork by Akiko Stehrenberger. Her painting is a perfect encapsulation of the tagline “One flag. Many voices.” as its stars and stripes morph into faces with mouths open wide in song—presumably with the words of Francis Scott Key or Katharine Lee Bates on their lips.

The paint is laid on thick, brushstrokes still intact to give the whole that handcrafted, American-made feel with the title’s text given a similar treatment in a lighter, more watercolor-like base. It all comes together to provide the patriotic symbol refracted through a humanist lens of absolute equality that our country desperately needs.

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.

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)

Where to Stream: VOD

Chronicles of a Wandering Saint (Tomás Gómez Bustillo)

Tomás Gómez Bustillo’s charming, intelligent Chronicles of a Wandering Saint is a natural follow-up to the two short films for which he is known: Soy Buenos Aires (a strange, picaresque rags-to-riches tale) and Museum of Fleeting Wonders (a collection of dramatized paranormal happenings). In Chronicles, as in the two short films, he is primarily concerned with spiritual, ethical, and religious contrasts; scenarios in which miracles are mixed with coincidences, faith with rationality, and boredom with inspiration. But that is where the comparisons end; for Chronicles is in every way a more serious, controlled, and moving work of art, which stands with the very best of contemporary Argentine cinema. – Oliver W. (full review)

Where to Stream: Metrograph at Home

Debut (Julian Castronovo)

In his aptly titled Debut, Julian Castronovo stars as a fictionalized version of himself who becomes involved in an international art world conspiracy. Made for a humble $900 with iPhones, computers, and forged documents, Castronovo’s thrilling techno-noir is both stylish and ingenious. Few films in recent years have announced the arrival of a new independent talent with such flair.

Where to Stream: Le Cinéma Club

Erupcja (Pete Ohs)

It’s no coincidence that Bethany (Charli xcx) and Rob (Will Madden) find themselves in Warsaw. While an obvious fact—she recommended the Polish city as an alternative destination when he suggested Paris—it’s also a familiar escape hatch now that things have grown serious. Because Bethany senses a proposal on the horizon. She’s lived with Rob for a year in London and he’s started hinting about a surprise for his “love.” It’s time to pull the ripcord. – Jared M. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

Hokum (Damian McCarthy)

Anyone familiar with Irish filmmaker Damian McCarthy’s work already knows he’s one of the most exciting new names in horror. His underseen debut Caveat was a moody ghost story that showed off his ability to create unnerving imagery and unbearably tense sequences, but it was his terrifying sophomore feature Oddity that put him on the map for genre fans. After making one of the scariest films in years, it comes as no surprise that McCarthy got the attention of a company like NEON, which hopped aboard for his latest feature Hokum. It’s McCarthy’s biggest production to date and further boosted by Adam Scott taking on the lead role, all of which suggests Hokum would give its director plenty room to conjure up more unforgettable scares. Instead the film is more like a remix of McCarthy’s prior features, retreading ground with a heavier hand and constituting an underwhelming experience. – C.J. P. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

In the Grey (Guy Ritchie)

In the Grey, written and directed by Guy Ritchie, is a nifty bit of entertainment. Ninety minutes long before credits and starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Henry Cavill, and Eiza González, the action thriller concerns a small group of “extraction specialists” whose job it is to get very powerful people to pay their debts. They often work in the service of other very powerful people. In this case, they are tasked to recover a one-billion-dollar debt from bad guy Manny Salazar (Carlos Bardem) for a nefarious, New York City law firm of which the shady Bobby (Rosamund Pike) is an employee. – Dan M. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

Is God Is (Aleshea Harris)

“Complicated” doesn’t begin to describe the family history that twin sisters Racine (Kara Young) and Anaia (Mallori Johnson) are facing in Is God Is, Aleshea Harris’ film adaptation of her acclaimed play. A directorial debut brimming with storytelling ingenuity and stylistic verve, the revenge tale follows the sisters on their path toward justice after their father left them and their mother for dead. While sometimes the theatrics at play can take away from the desired emotional connection, it’s quite an impressive first outing in the directorial chair for Harris, hopefully leading to more opportunities. – Jordan R.

Where to Stream: VOD

Omaha (Cole Webley)

Early one morning, a single father and widower (John Magaro)––credited as Dad––wakes up his perceptive nine-year-old Ella (Molly Belle Wright) and mischievous six-year-old Charlie (Wyatt Solis) and asks them to pack a suitcase as quickly as they can. Everyone is a bit groggy, but they load the car (including their golden retriever Rex) just as a police officer comes to staple an eviction notice on the front door. With a running push in neutral (a familiar routine), Dad and Ella get his clunker revved and started, and soon they’re on their way. Where are they going? The kids––and we––are left to figure that out. – Jake K-S (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

Pillion (Harry Lighton)

Dogs Don’t Wear Pants finally has a companion piece. Harry Lighton tackles the duality of sexual attraction head-on in a gay sub-dom debut that shocks, tickles, delights, and devastates in equal measure (but not without pulling viewers out of the emotional quicksand it creates). In his edgiest career turn, Harry Melling plays Colin, a hushed, soft-smiling, barbershop-quartet-singing submissive who’s yet to find a man that really gets him—a bad biker clad in tight black leather that holds him by the thick chain around his neck and gives the dog the open couch seat while making him sit on the floor. Enter: Ray (Alexander Skarsgård), the tall-walking, rarely talking epitome of sizzling-hot dominance. The desired degradation opens Colin’s world as wide and willfully as his mouth, offering a deeply romantic enlightenment angle on the BDSM lifestyle that few films have deigned to take. – Luke H.

Where to Stream: HBO Max

Ricky (Rashad Frett)

Ricky (Stephen James) has only been out of prison a few weeks, but the real world has already become too much for him. His parole officer Joanne (Sheryl Lee Ralph) keeps showing up at his house to berate him. His mother Winsome (Simbi Kali) treats him like he’s already a lost cause. He just lost a job that was supposed to be guaranteed by childhood friend Terrence (Sean Nelson). Fifteen years ago he convinced Ricky to do a robbery with him; when the heat came down on them, Terrence split and Ricky was left with the consequences. And having spent so much of his life in prison, he doesn’t know how to be around people anymore. He struggles to speak and look others in the eye. He’s a strong guy with muscles and an imposing stature, but inside it’s like he’s still that scared teenager who was arrested all those years ago. He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it, but Ricky has one thing going for him––he knows how to cut hair. With dreams of opening a barbershop one day, Ricky attempts to build a life for himself. – Jourdain S. (full review)

Where to Stream: VOD

Weeknights (Alfred Giancarli)

Following a trio of graveyard shift workers at a desolate college campus, Weeknights is a formally fascinating experiment in capturing the mundane. With a precise visual eye and a strong sense of settling the viewer into each location through a limited number of shots, Alfred Giancarli creates a tranquil debut feature that would make Tsai Ming-liang proud. – Jordan R.

Where to Stream: Means.tv

Also New to Streaming

The Criterion Channel

200 Cigarettes
After Hours
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
The Darjeeling Limited
Dr. No
From Russia with Love
Full Moon in Paris
The Game
Goldfinger
A Good Marriage
The Harder They Come
Marie Antoinette
Melancholia
Motel Destino
Muriel’s Wedding
Nomad
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Objectified
Pacific Heights
Pauline at the Beach
The People vs. Larry Flynt
Rachel Getting Married
Repo Man
The Searchers
The Straight Story
Straight to Hell
Sullivan’s Travels
Touki bouki
Typhoon Club
Walker
A Wedding
Wild at Heart

Disney+

Hoppers

Hulu

Keeper
Jimpa

Kino Film Collection

Aimée & Jaguar
Drifter

Metrograph at Home

Days
Edward II
Hahaha
Hill of Freedom
Keep the Lights On
The Living End
Oasis
Peppermint Candy
Stranger by the Lake
Totally F***ed Up
A Vanishing Fog
Will-o’-the-Wisp

MUBI

4 Days in France
BPM
Bull Durhman
End of the Century
Solo
Thelma

Shudder

The Ice Tower

VOD
I Swear

Note: This review was originally published as part of our 2025 TIFF coverage. The film opens in theaters on June 5.

How do you tell when you stop being good people pretending to be bad and realize you’re just bad people who can’t even trick themselves into thinking they’re anything but? Caroline (Samara Weaving) asks this aloud earlier than you might expect, considering the crime escapade she and new boyfriend Oliver (Kyle Gallner) enjoy commenced at her behest. She didn’t just take his advice and wonder why she’d never left the one place she’s ever known. She didn’t just reject the notion of staying because it’s safe. No, Caroline chose to meet those realities with the decision to become a full-blown outlaw because it made her feel truly alive.

Written by Tom Dean and directed by Adam Carter Rehmeier, Carolina Caroline plays on-screen as a love story first and foremost. It’s that sensibility which drew Rehmeier to the material, he and Dean working to turn a posher Oliver into the country western vagabond we see. We’re talking a love-at-first-sight romance, too––Caroline silently watches him scam her boss at the register while Oliver keeps looking over at her to make sure she’s paying attention. He likes her boldness to come out and demand the money he stole back. She likes that he complies with a smile before inexplicably dropping her name to stoke her intrigue further.

It’s all over after that. Even if we trick ourselves into thinking he’s conning her to get in her pants or wield the sort of control he admittedly loves, her ability to earnestly gives him a fright reveals he was always too far gone. Caroline had his heart; Oliver had her loyal tutelage. And she wanted to learn everything to prove to herself that she also had the capacity to wield that control. They might have gotten away with it if they were willing to stick to the script and live only for each other. But she can’t let her father’s (Jon Gries) love or her mother’s (Kyra Sedgwick) abandonment go. And he can’t refuse to give her what she needs.

Thus the only possible end is tragedy, and the filmmakers don’t try to hide it. They begin Carolina with Caroline stealing a man’s pickup at gunpoint alone before rewinding ten months to see a completely different young woman stocking shelves at a gas station when Oliver walks through the door. Cue the road-trip crash course in grifting and the electric chemistry of their tandem running amok with such expert precision that their crimes might somehow exude more sex appeal than their sex scenes. They feel invincible because they’re equals at the top of their game with nothing to lose… except each other. And there’s the rub.

We know what must happen for them to stay together. They do, too, if not for being their own personal blind spots. Oliver says it himself: When you know what it is a person lies to themselves about, you can make them do practically anything. We hear it in his voice every time he asks her, “Is that what you want?” He could stop it. He could manipulate her in order to save her and yet he follows her lead instead. It’s why destined heartbreak always seems inevitable in a good love story: what’s more romantic than relinquishing the wheel to your partner, even though you know it will probably be your own demise?

The same can be said the other way around––things get heavy well before they become insane. What begins as fun mistakes (the first bank robbery attempt carries an unforgettable punchline) eventually escalates into necessary shows of force. Is the anger and violence Oliver unleashes truly an act of survival like he says? Or is that what’s always been hiding beneath the charm, wholly imperceptible to Caroline’s love-struck eyes? We’re not surprised as things grow darker, but we feel hers like a punch to the gut every time. It’s a testament to the direction, editing, and performance. We want to believe in the dream.

Carolina Caroline is also very funny. Much of the humor disappears as things get dangerous (besides the final frame leaving us with a smile), but it’s very prevalent during the honeymoon period of their relationship. That’s when Gallner and Weaving’s chemistry is at its best. Because they aren’t making the audience laugh. We’re laughing with their effortless ability to tickle each other. It’s not surprising that the shift happens after Caroline finally confronts her estranged mother; in a powerful scene contrasting the undying love we’ve experienced, Sedgwick becomes the only one laughing (onscreen and off).

More Dinner in America than Snack Shack, but it’s not quite that either. Rehmeier has found a way to traverse different genres while maintaining an authentic, honest mix of comedy and drama. He’s unafraid to go for the big laugh, regardless of subject matter, yet knows when to hit the emotion hard. Because we need that balance to be genuinely entertained while still feeling like something of substance occurred. If his characters’ actions may look flippant on the surface, that’s only because they never quite know what they don’t know until there’s no avoiding it. Gallner is great at lifting that veil. Weaving devastates by having no other choice but to look.

Carolina Caroline premiered at TIFF 2025.

Maybe it’s harder than it looks to present the end of the world calmly, especially in only 93 minutes. That’s one of the major achievements of the new, relatively lo-fi anime film Jinsei. Over a hundred years—all through the prism of pop music and Japanese identity—one quickly learns how much millennial- and zoomer-doom mindset is just as present in the land of the rising sun. 

An instant thing to set this film apart is that it’s not so much a studio production, but the result of a single auteur. Jinsei can boast in its promotional materials that it was all hand-drawn by anime wunderkind Ryuya Suzuki. What he’s concocted is somewhat austere at times, as if not a frenetic amount of visual information was allowed by the crowdfunded budget. Yet one would never call it imprecise, if just for the fact that the action is always happening at the center of a square frame—admittedly bringing a bit of a twee, Wes Anderson-like touch to proceedings. 

In the story itself, à la Tenet, the protagonist is simply named Protagonist (voiced by rapper ACE COOL). From an early age, he seems both set on and destined to become a pop star; Jinsei pivots on the motif of the protagonist enraptured by a dancing, Michael Jackson-esque pop icon on a cracked television screen. Chasing after a vague notion of what he wants to do, the foolproof fame game of pop will eventually lead to prestigious film roles and whatnot—an artistic satisfaction as the final reward. But there’s always something a little hollow at the center, both for his dreams and the character itself. Jinsei is very cool to the touch, very much at a distance; this isn’t a triumphant, then tragic rise-and-fall narrative. 

His tragedy is never quite being happy enough and he’s never totally in control of his destiny, as made apparent by being put into a soulless boy band by the powers that be. The septic world of pop music, mostly dictated by old men in sleek but disquieting corporate boardrooms, doesn’t help matters and spells out what’ll be the rest of his life. As the narrative ventures into the far future and the protagonist attains what he wants both in music and film, his ascension to elite circles only makes him dispirited. He’s merely a figure witnessing champagne toasts as a futuristic war with Master Chief-like soldiers rages outside. 

The downfall of society is occurring in the ellipsis, but it’s not hard for us to fill in the gaps. It’s certainly an easy kind of cynicism that doesn’t ask for much from the audience, but luckily, Suzuki doesn’t rest on this. Becoming increasingly cosmic towards its end, the visual imagination is amped up while more questions are raised. Perhaps this articulates why Jinsei is highly intriguing, if not entirely dramatically satisfying. Suzuki’s film does more to suggest a promise of great things to come. But the vision is still there to impress, even when one feels certain pieces are missing. 

Jinsei enters a limited release on Friday, June 5.

Note: This review was originally published as part of our 2025 Tribeca coverage. The film opens in theaters on June 5.

As humanity continues mining Earth’s resources with wanton abandon, the concerns of those with the most influence have been towards the skies––the space dreams of inhabiting another planet once we’ve depleted all this one has to offer. But what could exploring Earth’s subterranean wonders tell us about the origins and future of our species? Robert Macfarlane’s evocatively transportive, poetically imaginative 2019 book Underland investigated such questions through the perspectives of those seeking the void. In adapting the text to the screen, Rob Petit takes a compelling (if more straightforward) excavation into the depths of our planet.

Weaving the separate travels of three intrepid explorers, the Darren Aronofsky-produced Underland follows Fátima Tec Pool, an archaeologist in Mexico who travels through the otherworldly wonders that are cenotes––natural sinkholes mainly found in the Yucatán Peninsula across which her Mayan ancestors also traveled hundreds of years ago. Bradley Garrett is a California-based geographer who explores man-made underworlds, many of which are long-abandoned or home to the less-fortunate, in hopes of bringing these otherwise unseen experiences to light. Finally, Mariangela Lisanti is a Princeton University physicist who travels a few kilometers underground, where the radioactivity of the Earth can’t interfere with her tireless pursuit of dark matter and how it may unlock the mysteries of the universe.

These are all fascinating stories in their own right, so much so that cross-cutting between them robs each of a certain transportive power. While viewing Underland I was often reminded of Michelangelo Frammartino’s recent Il buco, which recreated a journey of speleologists who descended into one of the planet’s deepest caves in southern Italy. Mostly absent of dialogue, it made one feel every moment of sheer claustrophobia and wonder as they burrowed deeper and deeper. With Petit creating a tapestry of these stories, there are moments of such awe––such as a single, extensive first-person shot plunging into the abyss, or another of Fátima Tec Pool and her crew contorting their bodies to fit through the tightest of passageways. Seeing the massive underwater device Lisanti uses for her research is truly awe-inspiring, as if plucked from a sci-fi epic by James Cameron or Denis Villeneuve. Yet each time we start feeling invested in the journey, Petit jumps to another thread, creating a dissatisfying, scattershot approach.

With a constantly probing narration from both our subjects and Sandra Hüller about the unknown secrets of the subterranean, Underland is far more interested in questions than the answers humanity doesn’t possess. As Garrett notes, we have more history underground than the tallest skyscrapers one could ever build, and at a certain point, when they’ve crumbled and humanity is dead and gone, the stories of the underground may be all that remains. These are fascinating concepts and, more than a journey through these spaces, Underland is chilling for its reminder of just how infinitesimal our lives are in the scope of a world whose time is measured in eons and epochs.

While Petit thankfully never resorts to conventional talking heads, certain sections of narration suggest such an approach. One wonders what an adaptation of Macfarlane’s book might look like if he let the images speak more for themselves. With an ending that aims to conventionally convey a shared feeling of connection between every living thing on the planet, there’s the sense Underland has juggled a lot of ideas without ever landing on the precise form to convey them. As noted near the finale, science thrives on the all-consuming urge to open endless doors until there’s none left. Underland opens a number of fascinating doors, and if the experience impels one to pick up Macfarlane’s book: all the better.

Underland premiered at the 2025 Tribeca Festival.

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.

Backrooms (Kane Parsons)

The opening five minutes serve as an ideal primer for anybody unfamiliar with Parsons’ Backrooms web series, and who maybe need a little extra convincing that a 20-year-old YouTuber has some juice: a found-footage recording of a researcher lost in the endless liminal space who gets chased by some unseen force of evil. Even when seen in the extremely low resolution of period-appropriate early-1990s camcorders, there’s something immediately disquieting about the uncanny production design (courtesy of Perkins’ regular collaborator Danny Vermette), where signs appear as their mirror image, various objects of furniture have melted into the floor, and the only living souls are seagulls. It’s an uncomfortable space to be in before the echoes of footsteps begin gathering speed behind our cameraman, and as this tape ends in offscreen devastation, we flash forward approximately ten days to meet Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a failed architect and owner of the fabulously named furniture store Cap’n Clark’s Ottoman Empire. – Alistair R. (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)

Carolina Caroline (Adam Carter Rehmeier)

How do you tell when you stop being good people pretending to be bad and realize you’re just bad people who can’t even trick themselves into thinking they’re anything but? Caroline (Samara Weaving) asks this aloud earlier than you might expect, considering the crime escapade she and new boyfriend Oliver (Kyle Gallner) enjoy commenced at her behest. She didn’t just take his advice and wonder why she’d never left the one place she’s ever known. She didn’t just reject the notion of staying because it’s safe. No, Caroline chose to meet those realities with the decision to become a full-blown outlaw because it made her feel truly alive. – Jared M. (full review)

The Currents (Milagros Mumenthaler)

A selection at TIFF, NYFF, San Sebastian, and more, Milagros Mumenthaler’s acclaimed, mysterious character study The Currents is now in theaters. Jourdain Searles said in her NYFF review, “Writer-director Milagros Mumenthaler paints an intimate portrait of a woman trying to reckon with her fractured identity, trying not to fall into the grip of madness. Mumenthaler understands that motherhood requires an element of performance that reminds the mother that her life is no longer hers alone. Though the love for her daughter is still there inside, she cowers from it, preoccupied with inspecting the current shape of her life. In therapy, Lina expresses a fear of water’s power and the strength of a current that could wash her away. It’s as if she now knows the fragility of her existence, and that the confidence that once governed her was washed away when she jumped off the bridge. Despite the eccentricity of her fears, the emotions behind them are painfully relatable to any woman who feels that the inertia of her life has taken over.”

Forastera (Lucía Aleñar Iglesias)

It starts as a gag. Pepa (Núria Prims) rings to apologize to her mother and believes it is she who picks up the phone. Her teenage daughter Cata (Zoe Stein) plays along, pretending to answer as she assumes her grandmother would, until her mother finally catches on and says her name. When it happens again, however, Catalina (Marta Angelat) has died. But instead of telling the hairdresser this news, Cata once again pretends to be her grandmother to cancel the appointment and assure the woman that she’ll ring soon for a touch-up. – Jared M. (full review)

The Little Sister (Hafsia Herzi)

In her mosque’s perfect world, Fatima (Nadia Melliti) is on the right path. A good family. A tight-knit group of protective and loyal friends. A boyfriend ready to propose. A devout faith in Islam. In many ways, this teen is doing better on the wife checklist than her older sisters (besides kitchen skills). And maybe she would have followed that path in Algeria or Egypt. But this is France. The opportunity to live her true self is here if she wants it. – Jared M. (full review)

I Love Boosters (Boots Riley)

A parody of dialectical materialism (you’ll understand what this means when you see the film), superficial economies, and the cult of fast fashion, I Love Boosters—the second feature from rapper, activist, and filmmaker Boots Riley—proves a spirited and hilarious comedy in its first two acts before falling back on action-comedy tropes in its finale. Perhaps there’s no way to fully sustain the gonzo energy delivered in its set-up, which initially offers a sharp critique of capitalism as biting as Riley’s debut feature Sorry to Bother You. – John F. (full review)

Jinsei (Ryuya Suzuki)

Maybe it’s harder than it looks to present the end of the world calmly, especially in only 93 minutes. That’s one of the major achievements of the new, relatively lo-fi anime film Jinsei. Over a hundred years—all through the prism of pop music and Japanese identity—one quickly learns how much millennial- and zoomer-doom mindset is just as present in the land of the rising sun. – Ethan V. (full review)

Obsession (Curry Barker)

Even if he hadn’t recently landed the new Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake, you’ve likely heard the name Curry Barker. He’s the latest in the recent spate of former sketch comedians/YouTubers turning to horror-directing with an online feature under his belt. Obsession—his theatrical debut—fully lives up to both his promise and the title. For whatever familiarity lies within it, there’s a strong seed just begging to flourish into something great. – Devan S. (full review)

Pressure (Anthony Maras)

Can you make an engaging film about predicting the weather? Pressure, directed by Anthony Maras, answers this question in the affirmative. Set mere days before D-Day is set to commence, General Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) needs an accurate forecast to ensure the operation will go as planned. The film’s stark opening minutes portray the vicious aftermath of Operation Tiger, a D-Day training exercise gone horribly wrong only months earlier. Hundreds of American soldiers were killed by friendly fire after some deadly miscommunication. We find Eisenhower steadfast but shaken, surrounded by British generals who believe they can do a better job leading the Allied Expeditionary Force (AEF) to victory. Damian Lewis represents this feeling in his outsized portrayal of Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery, commander of all D-Day land forces. – Dan M. (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)

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)

With Hasan in Gaza (Kamal Aljafari)

While there are no documentaries in the world that can give true justice to the pain experienced by the Palestinian people, Kamal Aljafari’s With Hasan in Gaza is one of the most poetic and profound to arrive thus far. Rory O’Connor said in his review, “The new documentary With Hasan in Gaza––a poignant, meditative portrait of a city now fighting for its life––works as both a travelogue and time machine. In 2001, the filmmaker Kamal Aljafari journeyed to Palestine in the hopes of finding Adder Rahim, a friend he made while serving seven months in the juvenile section of Israel’s Naqab Desert prison when he was 17 years old. During filming, Aljafari met Hasan, a guide who agreed to drive him the length of the country, down its coastal strip, during which time the director documented what he saw: children playing, rows of cars and buildings, bustling city streets.”

More Films Now Playing in Theaters

• Magic Hour
• Power Ballad
• Renoir
• Tuner
• Underland

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

New York is hardly lacking for decent programming of Japanese cinema. Even by such standards, the city’s preeminent destination is without question. Now in its 19th edition, Japan Society’s Japan Cuts has announced a 2026 lineup characteristically blending national totems with upstart filmmakers, a few restorations of known and lesser-known repertory titles creating a vivid image of a national cinema. The former is represented by opening and closing nights, respectively featuring Tokyo Taxi by Yoji Yamada (94 years of age and 91 films deep) and Hirokazu Kore-eda’s Sheep in a Box.

On the latter front, their Next Generation programming boasts four titles, including festival favorites Leave the Cat Alone and White Flowers and Fruits, while the New Directions in Japanese Cinema series “provides new and emerging directors in Japan with nonprofit funding to create short films.” For animation, the main slate offers the stop-motion Junk World; Odd Taxi director Baku Kinoshita’s The Last Blossom; and Cocoon, a project from Sasayuri, a studio founded by Ghibli alum. Hitomi Tateno. But I suspect their sleeper hit will be SAI: Disaster, a feature-length edit of the already-cult horror series by the directing duo Gogatsu.

Japan Cuts’ Classics section is oriented around Kadokawa Pictures’ 50th anniversary. Likely the biggest item is Kore-eda’s Our Little Sister, introduced by lead actress Suzu Hirose, who will also present the main slate’s centerpiece picture A Pale View of Hills. But my eye immediately travels to the vastly underseen W’s Tragedy, which is one well-timed domestic release from becoming certified canon, and two early shorts by Gakuryu Ishii, The Master of Shiatsu and Shuffle. Meanwhile, the cult children’s film Rex: A Dinosaur’s Story also plays.

See the full lineup and get tickets for Japan Cuts here.

Following its world premiere at the Austin Film Festival last fall, Lauren Caster’s debut feature Rhythm Is a Dancer will now be arriving in theaters beginning July 10 from the Utopia imprint Circle Collective. Directed, written, produced, and starring Caster, the drama draws on her real-life story of being the daughter of a lesbian mom and sperm-donor dad. Ahead of the release, we’re pleased to exclusively debut the trailer and poster.

Lauren Caster, along with co-star Tate Donovan, will also appear in person for select screenings, including July 8 at LA’s Laemmle Royal, July 9 at LA’s Laemmle Monica Film Center, and July 16 and 17 at NYC’s Roxy Cinema.

Here’s the synopsis: “Ro (filmmaker Lauren Caster), a young woman with a dwindling dance career, returns home after many years to meet her biological father (Tate Donovan, Damages, The OC) for the first time. Born to Susan (Amy Aquino, Working Girl, Moonstruck), a lesbian who opted for insemination, Ro grapples with the complexities of her unconventional family dynamic and soon forms a bond at her new job with three lively 80-year-olds, who help her reconnect with her family, her roots, and herself.”

“Rhythm Is a Dancer comes from a personal chapter of my life––discovering my biological father in my late 20s, an anonymous sperm donor used by my butch lesbian mom,” said Lauren Caster. “It was a moment that cracked open everything I thought I knew about myself. I’d spent years imagining what his absence meant, how it defined me, and finding him didn’t close that gap, it made it messier, more confusing. This film is a reflection of that mess––and exploration of identity and connection at a time when I thought I was supposed to have already had all the answers.”

See the exclusive trailer and poster below: