The Cinema Touch
Crisp Criticism by Julien Faddoul // Follow on Twitter @JulienFaddoul
Thursday, March 21, 2024
My Top Ten of 2023
The Films of 2023
Sunday, March 12, 2023
The Films of 2022
216 Films
****
***
After Yang
All the Beauty and the Bloodshed
Benediction
The Cathedral
Compartment No. 6
Decision to Leave
Happening
In Front of Your Face
Paris, 13th District
Saint Omer
**
Aftersun
All That Breathes
Babylon
The Banshees of Inisherin
Barbarian
Bones and All
Bros
Confess, Fletch
EO
Everything Everwhere All at Once
Glass Onion
Good Luck to You, Leo Grande
Hit the Road
Kimi
Marcel the Shell with Shoes On
Nope
The Sea Beast
Stars at Noon
TÁR
Triangle of Sadness
Turning Red
Women Talking
*
Ahed's Knee
Ali & Ava
All Quiet on the Western Front
Amsterdam
Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood
Armageddon Time
Athena
Avatar: The Way of Water
BARDO
The Batman
Bodies Bodies Bodies
Broker
Call Jane
Causeway
Cow
Crimes of the Future
Descendant
Don't Worry Darling
Dual
The Duke
Elvis
The Fabelmans
Fire Island
God's Creatures
The Inspection
Inu-Oh
I Want You Back
Lightyear
Living
The Lost City
A Love Song
Mack & Rita
The Menu
Mrs Harris Goes to Paris
Nitram
The Northman
Official Competition
On the Count of Three
The Outfit
Playground
Pleasure
Prey
Puss in Boots: The Last Wish
The Quiet Girl
Roald Dahl's Matilda the Musical
Resurrection
RRR
Salvatore: Shoemaker of Dreams
Saturday Fiction
See How They Run
7 Days
She Said
Smile
Strange World
The Tale of King Crab
Thirteen Lives
Three Minutes - A Lengthening
Three Thousand Years of Longing
Till
To Leslie
The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent
Violent Night
Wendell & Wild
We're All Going to the World's Fair
White Noise
Windfall
The Woman King
The Wonder
NO STARS
The Adam Project
Against the Ice
Alice
Aline
All the Old Knives
Ambulance
The American Dream and Other Fairy Tales
Bigbug
Blacklight
Black Adam
Black Panther: Wakanda Forever
The Black Phone
Blonde
The Bob's Burgers Movie
Breaking
Brian and Charles
The Bubble
Bullet Train
Cha Cha Real Smooth
Chip n Dale: Rescue Rangers
Choose or Die
Christmas Bloody Christmas
A Christmas Story Christmas
The Cursed
DC League of Super-Pets
Death on the Nile
Deep Water
Devotion
Disenchanted
Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness
Dog
Downton Abbey: A New Era
Emancipation
Empire of Light
The Estate
Falling for Christmas
Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore
Father of the Bride
Firestarter
Fistful of Vengeance
Fresh
Futura
God's Country
The Good House
The Good Nurse
The Gray Man
The Greatest Beer Run Ever
Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio
Halloween Ends
Happy Happy Joy Joy
Hellraiser
Hocus Pocus 2
Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul.
Hotel Transylvania 4: Transformania
Hunt
Hustle
Infinite Storm
Jackass Forever
Jerry & Marge Go Large
Jurassic World Dominion
The King’s Daughter
Lady Chatterley's Lover
Lou
Luck
Lyle, Lyle Crocodile
A Man Called Otto
Maneater
The Man from Toronto
Marry Me
Master
Meet Cute
Memory
Men
Moonage Daydream
Moonfall
Morbius
Mothering Sunday
Mr Harrigan’s Phone
Mr Malcolm’s List
My Best Friend’s Exorcism
My Policeman
Out of the Blue
The Pale Blue Eye
The People We Hate at the Wedding
Persuasion
Pinocchio
Poker Face
Prey for the Devil
The Princess
Redeeming Love
The School for Good and Evil
Scream
Scrooge: A Christmas Carol
See of Me
Slumberland
The Son
Spiderhead
Spirited
Spoiler Alert
Sr.
Studio 666
Summering
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
They/Them
Thor: Love and Thunder
Ticket to Paradise
Top Gun: Maverick
Topside
The 355
Uncharted
The Whale
Where the Crawdads Sing
Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance With Somebody
Weird: The Al Yankovic Story
You Are Not My Mother
My Top Ten Films of 2022
by
Julien Faddoul
10. After Yang (Kogonada, USA)
Pacified, tender science-fiction drama about a family of four: Father Jake (Colin Farrell), mother Kyra (Jodie Turner-Smith), their Chinese adopted daughter Mika (Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja) and their android Yang (Justin H. Min), who was purchased as a means to educate Mika on her Chinese heritage. This is accomplished film video-essayist Kogonada’s second feature and like his first, Columbus (2017), it explores the fragility of human interactions in an architected environment. Some viewers may have a hard time being stirred beyond polite attentiveness, for the film is deliberate and tranquil, but Kogonada’s Ozuian configuration on the underlying mood sets him apart from less visual directors.
9. Saint Omer (Alice Diop, France)
This is documentarian Alice Diop’s first narrative film, and she employs a rhythm and editorial structure that derives unconditionally from that of the investigative observer. The majority of the film’s dramatic power essentially comes from the audience knowing we are observing someone who is observing someone else. Critically, the film’s reception seems to have fallen into two camps, those who find this method riveting and those who have found it stultifying. I see both sides. But my placement of the film on this list obviously affirms where I ended up emotionally (and this is despite the last 10 minutes or so, which regrettably fall hard into flagrant sentimentality). A pregnant French novelist (Kayije Kagame) attends the trial of a Senegalese woman (Guslagie Malanda) accused of murdering her 15-month-old child by leaving her on a beach to be swept away by the tide. The plot itself is based on the French court case of Fabienne Kabou, who was convicted of the same crime (she received 20 years in prison), a trial which Diop attended in 2016. Diop presents the scenes of the trial more or less as they would play in real life, and it ultimately matters less whether we can comprehend the defendant’s actions, and more that such events occur in the first place with such alarming commonality.
8. In Front of Your Face (Hong Sang-soo, South Korea)
Describing the films of Hong Sang-soo is a task that many critics find difficult to those who are wholly unfamiliar with him. He is often compared to French master Eric Rohmer and sometimes to Woody Allen, but the comparison I often glom onto first is Steven Soderbergh in low-budget autoschediastic mode (movies like Bubble (2006) or The Girlfriend Experience (2009)). He writes, directs, produces, photographs, edits and even composes the music for his movies. Characters are usually seen simply walking around a city, drinking soju, and sleeping with one another. The main characters in his films are often movie directors or actors, and scenes typically consist of a single shot with spontaneous zoom-ins and zoom-outs, with often unscripted dialogue. This time, a former actress with a secret returns to Seoul from the United States to visit her sister and meet with a director to discuss her possibly returning to acting. I began this by broadcasting on the filmmaker’s creative personality because I feel that In Front of Your Face is probably the best place for first timers to start, not only because it evades slightly from some of his regular tropes (it’s certainly evident that there is less improvisation this time) but because it is one of his most emotionally naked. Make of it what you will.
7. The Cathedral (Ricky D’Ambrose, USA)
The year’s biggest surprise for me. 35-year-old director Ricky D’Ambrose’s semi-autobiographical account of growing up in a rather tense and bitter Long Island family received a mixed reception when it had its North American premiere at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival (it had had its official premiere a few months prior in Venice, something D’Ambrose was obligated to do due to receiving a grant for the film from the Venice Biennale College Workshop). The film is 87 minutes long and covers a little over 2 decades. Jesse, played by a series of young actors at different ages, deals with his parents’ divorce (Brian D’Arcy James and Monica Barbaro, both excellent) as well as trying to interpret cryptic secrets from the histories of both sides of his family. The film unfolds sequence by sequence through a juxtaposition of precisely framed shots, often focusing on random household items or aspects of interior decoration that show the world as a collage of childhood memory. The film also uses extensive narration and period-specific archival footage. Some have compared these rhythms to those of the great Chantal Akerman. The period detail is impressively distinct (and correct), as are the sad emotions on display. Although this is his second film (I somehow missed his first, Notes on an Appearance (2018)), this is a major new voice in contemporary cinema, and I can’t wait to see what he does next.
6. Paris, 13th District (Jacques Audiard, France)
The year’s most underrated film, Jacques Audaird’s sex drama about four inhabitants in their 30s of the Parisian arrondissement of the title (Les Olympiades, in French) was unfairly dismissed when it played at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival as a mere trifle entry amongst the celebrated director’s more robust and substantial serious works. Émilie (Lucie Zhang, in one of the year’s best performances) meets Camille (Makita Samba) who is attracted to Nora (Noémie Merlant), who crosses paths with Amber (Jehnny Beth). Audiard wrote the film in collaboration with Céline Sciamma and Léa Mysius, both celebrated directors in their own right, based on three graphic novels by American cartoonist Adrian Tomine. The conversations are frank, the sex scenes are graphic and the situations and personality-types we encounter prove witty and enchanting.
5. Benediction (Terence Davies, United Kingdom)
If you were to ask me to name my favourite living filmmakers, Terence Davies would be one of the first names I would offer up. Openly gay and imposingly well-educated, he is now in his late 70s, and famous mostly for his autobiographical works (Distant Voices, Still Lives (1988) and The Long Day Closes (1992)) and his literary adaptations (The House of Mirth (2000) and Sunset Song (2015)). His last two films however have been biopics, 2017’s A Quiet Passion (which made my list that year) starred Cynthia Nixon as American poet Emily Dickinson and this film, a biographical romantic drama on the harrowing life of British war poet Siegfried Sassoon. Unlike Dickinson, I must admit I was not that familiar with Sassoon’s writing, let alone his unconventional life. Jack Lowden plays the young Sassoon in what would be my choice as the year’s best performance. Sassoon survived the horrors of World War I and was even decorated, before being sent to a psychiatric facility for his anti-war stance. He had love affairs with several men during the 1920s, married, had a son, and converted to Catholicism. Peter Capaldi plays the older Sassoon. Like all of Davies’ films, everything is meticulously composed, with exacting tracking shots and remarkable bits of technique, laid over some brilliant Wildeian rejoinders (this movie is very bitchy) and, again, Lowden’s phenomenal, heartbreaking performance.
4. Happening (Audrey Diwan, France)
France, 1963. Abortion is illegal, under penalty of prison. Anne (Anamaria Vartolomei) is a university student at Angoulême, with dreams of being a writer but is quietly badgered by the other girls for her often promiscuous behaviour with local boys. After not feeling particularly well, she visits her local doctor (Fabrizio Rongione) who informs her she is pregnant. At this point in the film, as Anne lies on the examination table hearing this unwelcome news, we might expect our main character in what has so far been a quiet, observant drama to begin contemplating a change in life goals or even to begin crying in a wallow of worry and distress. Instead, she sits straights up, turns to the doctor and sharply whispers “Do something.”
I must say this moment knocked me sideways unlike any other in a movie this year. From that point on, Audrey Diwan’s often terrifying film (which was the surprise winner of the Golden Lion at the 2021 Venice Film Festival) captivates one and never lets go. There’s no need for this critic to initiate more discourse on this long analysed socio-political debate. Suffice it to say that Diwan’s perspective concurs with the rhetoric that much of the anti-abortion legislation attempts that have been perpetuated over the last 7 decades CLEARLY derive from sects of power and sects of fundamentalism in the pursuit to convince women everywhere that their desires in life are negligible and that they are somehow horrible miscreants for wanting any kind of life that doesn’t…okay, I should probably shut up now before I alienate anyone. But agreeing with a filmmaker would mean nothing to me were her formative technique not as enthralling as it is here and were her central performer not as exceptional as she is here. Happening is a great movie about what many young women around the world go through, a topic that many filmmakers are unfortunately too timid to tackle.
3. Decision to Leave (Park Chan-wook, South Korea)
Just exemplary filmmaking, through and through. In some measure, this is Korean director Park Chan-wook’s most conventional film – he is mostly known for highly violent melodramas like Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance (2002), Oldboy (2003) and Thirst (2009) – but his formal dynamism is utterly exceptional. What begins as a simple cat-and-mouse mystery becomes something akin to an East Asian Vertigo (1958). Hae-Joon (Park Hae-il), a seasoned detective, investigates the suspicious death of a man on a mountaintop. Soon, he begins to suspect Seo-rae (the glorious Tang Wei), the deceased’s wife, while being unsettled by his attraction to her. Park’s compositions and editing style are so invigorating here, doing away with what one might call connective-tissue shots and letting the staging bleed with emotion. One never knows quite where they are or what to think or who is ahead of whom. It’s the most fun I had at the movies in 2022.
2. All the Beauty and the Bloodshed (Laura Poitras, USA)
Were I to excavate a central theme within the 2022 year in film, it would be that the super-rich are destroying any and all attempts at upholding a civilized society. The Menu, Glass Onion, Triangle of Sadness, Bodies Bodies Bodies, Confess, Fletch, even The Batman all explore this motif, sometimes with humour and sometimes with an ominous admonitory. All the Beauty and the Bloodshed does neither because documentarian Laura Poitras doesn’t really need to. None of the actual declarations, affirmations or events that are depicted in this cinematic piece of non-fiction should be news to anyone who has been following the journalism of the last 5 years that focused on the United States Opioid Epidemic.
The film is two documentaries combined into one. The first is an activism chronicle that follows the advocacy organization PAIN (Prescription Addiction Intervention Now) and their participation in the fall of the Sackler Family – the founders and owners of the pharmaceutical company Purdue Pharma, accountable as the architects of the opioid epidemic and the press-dubbed “most evil family in America.” The second is a rather different film that concentrates on PAIN’s founder Nan Goldin, one the greatest and most innovative American photographers of the last 40 years, who developed an addiction to Oxycontin, and had a near fatal overdose of Fentanyl.
The film is structured in seven chapters, each of which begins with a photographic sequence or archival footage of a period of Goldin's life. No other film this year is likely to make you angrier. But what makes Poitras’ construction here so commendable is that it might also be this year’s most moving film too. We are privileged with a generous helping of Goldin’s slideshows, that still have the ability to stir wildly different reactions within us as they did when she first premiered them, maybe even more so. The two thematic throughlines of the movie comment on one another so beautifully that one feels they are witnessing something momentous.
1. Compartment No. 6 (Juho Kuosmanen, Finland/Russia)
To quote a great animated series about an anthropomorphic horse: All we have in this terrifying world are the connections we make.* Finnish director Juho Kuosmanen’s second feature takes that sentiment and cloaks it inside a somewhat old fashioned romantic-comedy scenario. The theme is a familiar one: A young Finnish woman (Seidi Haarla), living in Moscow as a student and having a rather cooled love affair with her professor, takes a train trip to the arctic port of Murmansk to see some of the rare hieroglyphics she’s been studying. Forced to share the long ride in a tiny sleeping compartment with a gruff and churlish Russian miner (Yuriy Borisov), the unexpected encounter leads the two occupants of Number 6 to discover who they really are and what kind of love connection they are truly seeking.
That’s the basic plotline of Compartment No. 6, and strictly speaking Kuosmanen’s film rarely attempts anything ambitious in its execution. It’s shot almost entirely in handheld, with much of the film confined to the title train compartment, which creates a cramped sense of placement that never leaves the viewer’s mind. Those of you who have ever taken a long train trip over several days will agree that Kuosmanen gets the mood exactly right. But the emotional throughline of the film is something different entirely, and if you could predict where this eloquent little gem was going dramatically, then dear reader you’re a less jaded man than I am. Based on the prize winning book Hytti nro 6 by Rosa Liksom, the film itself was also a prize winner at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival, where it was honoured with the Grand Jury Prize, before receiving it’s US release at the beginning of this year.
So why place the film at the top of this list? Funnily enough its conventional elements are an incendiary for its greatness. The romcom is a film genre that the world adores, and yet Hollywood production companies and distributors have kicked it slowly to its near-death with both hackneyed writing and a general disinterest in its wide exhibition potential. Compartment No. 6, and movies like it, should serve as a nullifier. Both cultural and societal traditions have instilled in us the kind of human relationships we expect to be given in our stories. The couple at the centre of this film (Haarla and Borisov are both magnificent, incidentally) share a form of love that is piercingly tender and strangely profound and I could not stop thinking about it. All that matters in this world are our connections and our experiences, and Compartment No. 6 was an experience I greatly treasured.
*And yes, if you have not seen the Netflix series Bojack Horseman, which played originally for 6 seasons from 2014 to 2020, please do. You will not regret it.
Saturday, April 16, 2022
My Top Ten of 2021
by
Julien Faddoul
10. The Card Counter (Paul Schrader, USA)
Messy, downbeat parable with Schrader’s typical allusions to Bressonain themes, though not the form. William Tell (Oscar Isaac) is a casino card counter who lives a spartan existence. This is shattered when he is approached by Cirk (Tyler Sheridan), a vulnerable and angry young man seeking help to execute his plan for revenge on a military colonel (Willem Dafoe). Like all of Scharder’s films, there’s the constant fear of it going over the top, but the characters here remain endlessly fascinating.
9. The Worst Person in the World (Joachim Trier, Norway)
Joachim Trier completes a trilogy of sorts about the rambling thoughts, feelings, and general goings-on of young adults in Oslo, Norway. Chronicling four years in the life of Julie (Renate Reinsve), a young woman who navigates the troubled waters of her love life and struggles to find her career path, the film is told to us in 12 chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. As drama it’s often beguiling, beautifully played and elegantly constructed.
8. Days (Tsai Ming-liang, Taiwan)
Tsai, at his best, is more transportive than any other filmmaker currently living. Apparently, this entry was somewhat made-up as he went along. The first half consists mostly of shots of Tsai regular/muse Lee Kang-sheng receiving acupuncture for a neck pain and the younger Laotian newcomer Anong Houngheuangsy praying and washing vegetables. The second half brings these two together in a series of prosaic moments that prove incredibly moving. 127 minutes comprising of only 42 shots, Tsai’s singular cinema is always resplendent to behold.
7. Parallel Mothers (Pedro Almodovar, Spain)
Almodovar’s most overtly political film sees him mixing melodrama with argumentation. As a result, he focuses less here on mise-en-scène than he ever has before, and more on performance. Two single women give birth in the same maternity ward on the same day. One (Milena Smit) a teenage mother pregnant from a sexual assault, the other a middle-aged fashion photographer (Penélope Cruz, magnificent here) having an unplanned but much-wanted first child. Afterwards, their lives intertwine. Almodovar lets us fill in most of the drama for ourselves and although some of his excavations are better than others, every year that boasts a new film from him is richer for it.
6. Flee (Jonas Poher Rasmussen, Denmark/France/Norway/Sweden)
An engrossing, highly affecting animated documentary on the real life story of “Amin Nawabi's” (a pseudonym used to protect his true identity), who arrived in Denmark as an unaccompanied minor in the mid 1990s after escaping the Mujahideen in Kabul and spending a childhood in shipping containers, an Estonian prison cell, and a claustrophobic hideout in Moscow. For the first time he is sharing his story with his close friend (director Rasmussen) as he plans to marry his long-time boyfriend and embark on the next phase of his successful Academic career. Both the conceptual use of animation as a stylistic agent for a non-fiction, interview documentary and the particulars of “Amin’s” story are nothing decidedly fresh, but there’s something about the incarnated, overwhelming humanity here that feels unquestionably significant.
5. Red Rocket (Sean Baker, USA)
The greatness of Sean Baker as a storyteller lies in the fact that he depicts intense belligerence in a hopeless milieu, and yet always pulls it off without an ounce of condescension. On the contrary, his films are often hilarious, but never supercilious. He truly loves these characters and that’s a palpable representation. Finding himself down and out in Los Angeles, an ex porn star (Simon Rex) decides to crawl back to his hometown of Texas City, Texas, where his estranged wife and mother-in-law are living. Just as this dysfunctional family seems to be making things work, he falls for a teenage girl working at a local doughnut shop. This film belongs in a very fashionable category of film nowadays that entertainingly depicts the relentless seediness of an idiot hustler. This one trumps most of them not only because of Baker’s aforementioned humility but because of Rex’s astonishing performance, which is a staggering illustration of an inner intensive force. If posed with the question of what was the best performance of 2021 for me, his is my definitive answer.
4. Pig (Michael Sarnoski, USA)
Delivered to us by a first-time feature filmmaker, a truffle hunter (Nicolas Cage) who lives alone in the Oregonian wilderness must return to his past in Portland in search of his beloved foraging pig after she is kidnapped. An unpredictable and invigorating journey through a world that is both reverently familiar and completely made-up, with truly one of the greatest actors of our time as our tour guide. Most modern movies are saturated in an ocean of automatic pilot. This one's not only consistently emotionally surprising but is able to make all its points in 92 minutes. Rare.
3. Memoria (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Thailand/Columbia/UK)
The most transcendent sensory experience I had in a cinema all year. Tilda Swinton (excellent) plays a Scottish expatriate living in Bogotá, Colombia who finds herself bothered by increasingly loud bangs which prevent her from getting any sleep – colloquially known as Exploding Head Syndrome. Her attempts to treat this ailment lead her deep into the Columbian countryside. When often asked to name my favourite directors working today, Apichatpong Weerasethakul is always one of the first names I bring up (and not just because I love pronouncing his name). He is of the Asian slow cinema but his experimental narrative and Buddhist-like rhythms make him unique even in that group. I will admit that Memoria feels somewhat lighter to me than his earlier works on reincarnation – this is a film about diegetic sound and its efficacy in cinema, in relation to real life. But he remains the prime sensual filmmaker for the senses.
2. The Power of the Dog (Jane Campion, New Zealand/UK/USA)
The favourite film of most critics this past year, Jane Campion’s long awaited eighth feature seems to exist from a different era of cinema – despite the fact that most people probably experienced this film on Netflix. A charismatic rancher, Phil Burbank (Benedict Cumberbatch), inspires fear and awe in those around him. When his brother (Jesse Plemons) brings home a new wife and her son (Kirsten Dunst and Kodi Smit-McPhee), Phil torments them until he finds himself exposed to the possibility of love. The brilliance of the film is in its deceptive superfluousness; it unfolds less like a dream and more like a dream of a dream. But an ultra-precise one. The final moments crystalize all that has come before, not just narratively but emotionally. Superb.
1. Licorice Pizza (Paul Thomas Anderson, USA)
One of the bewildering potentialities of art is its power to transport you and even make you wistful for a time, place and emotional climate that you weren’t even alive for. This is why the popular practice of looking back and soaking in one’s own autobiographic path is unnecessary, despite its inherent comfort. Culturally, in the era we live in now, the outgrowth of this has been bastardizing. Nostalgia is bigger now than in any time in history. But the key to this problem percolates less in the macro sense and more the micro, which is that people are nostalgic for the unsophisticated garbage they associate with their childhood innocence. People long not for the important times of their development but the comfortable times. I don’t feel there has ever been a film that encapsulates this better than Licorice Pizza.
Paul Thomas Anderson’s sprawling, episodic, masterfully realized paean to the San Fernando Valley in the 1970s is told to us in kaleidoscopic fashion, taking place over 3 years, with an ever-expanding cast of characters whose imperfections Anderson embraces. A romantically tinged if essentially chaste friendship between a 15-year-old boy (Cooper Hoffman, son of the late Philip Seymour) and a 25-year-old girl (musician Alana Haim, exceptional here) is the centre of this panorama, and one which has proved controversial among audiences this year. But even though the film is essentially a coming-of-age romp, it never shies away from the queasiness of its period either. Everything here is just so evocative and specific; shot in plump 35mm and written and filmed during the pandemic, every avenue taken within this polygon repays gratifying dividends and proves utterly irresistible.
Honourable Mentions:
Drive My Car
Luca
The Tragedy of Macbeth
The Films of 2021
205 Films
****
Licorice Pizza
***
The Card Counter
Days
Drive My Car
Flee
Luca
Memoria
Parallel Mothers
Pig
The Power of the Dog
Red Rocket
The Tragedy of Macbeth
The Worst Person in the World
**
Annette
Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn
Bad Trip
Being the Ricardos
Bergman Island
C'mon C'mon
The Disciple
Dune
Encanto
The French Dispatch
The Harder They Fall
A Hero
The Inheritance
Nobody
No Sudden Move
Petite Maman
Raya and the Last Dragon
Summer of Soul
Titane
Undine
Zola
*
Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar
Belfast
Benedetta
Best Sellers
Blue Bayou
Boiling Point
CODA
Copshop
Cry Macho
Dream Horse
The Eyes of Tammy Faye
The Feast
Finch
A Glitch in the Matrix
The Green Knight
The Hand of God
House of Gucci
The Humans
I'm Your Man
In the Heights
The Killing of Two Lovers
King Richard
Language Lessons
The Last Duel
The Lost Daughter
Luzzu
Malignant
Mama Weed
The Map of Tiny Perfect Things
The Matrix Resurrections
The Mitchells vs the Machines
Nightmare Alley
No Time to Die
Passing
A Quiet Place Part II
Spencer
The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run
Stillwater
Stowaway
Supernova
Swan Song
The Tender Bar
Tick, Tick... Boom!
Together Together
Val
Wild Indian
The World to Come
NO STARS
The Addams Family 2
Alpha Rift
The Alpinist
American Skin
Antlers
Army of the Dead
Army of Thieves
Awake
Black Widow
Bliss
Blithe Spirit
Boogie
Boss Level
Breaking News in Yuba County
Bruised
Candyman
Chaos Walking
Cherry
Cinderella
Clifford the Big Red Dog
Come True
Coming Home in the Dark
Coming 2 America
The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It
The Courier
Crisis
Cruella
Dear Evan Hansen
Demonic
The Dig
Don't Breathe 2
Don't Look Up
Edge of the World
Escape Room: Tournament of Champions
Eternals
Falling
Falling for Figaro
Fatherhood
Flag Day
F9
The Forever Purge
Ghostbusters: Afterlife
Godzilla vs Kong
The Guilty
Gunpowder Milkshake
Halloween Kills
Hard Luck Love Song
Held
Hell's All That
Here Today
Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard
Hive
Honeydew
Hotel Transylvania: Transformania
The Ice Road
Infinite
Joe Bell
John and the Hole
Jolt
Jungle Cruise
Kate
Knocking
Lamb
Land
Last Call
Last Night in Soho
Long Weekend
Love Hard
Mainstream
Malcolm & Marie
The Marksman
Mayday
Me You Madness
The Misfits
Mortal Kombat
A Mouthful of Air
My Zoe
Naked Singularity
Needle in a Timestack
Nightbooks
Old
Old Henry
Outside the Wire
Paranormal Activity: Next of Kin
Peter Rabbit 2: The Runaway
Pixie
Port Authority
The Protégé
Queenpins
Rams
Red Notice
Reminiscence
Respect
Schumacher
Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings
7 Prisoners
Silk Road
Snake Eyes: GI Joe Origins
Son
Son of Monarchs
Space Jam: A New Legacy
Spiral: From the Book of Saw
Spirit Untamed
The Starling
The Suicide Squad
Survive the Game
Sweet Girl
Things Heard & Seen
Thunder Force
To All the Boys: Always & Forever
Tom & Jerry
Tom Clancy's Without Remorse
Trigger Point
12 Mighty Orphans
The Unforgivable
The Unholy
Vacation Friends
Vanquish
Venom: Let There Be Carnage
The Vigil
Voyagers
The Water Man
We Broke Up
Willy’s Wonderland
The Woman in the Window
Wrath of Man
Yes Day