Loyalties flicker with slippery inconsistency in the grimy urban decay of Caught Stealing, as Darren Aronofsky drags one New York bartender into the city’s violent underbelly, and masks familiar genre tropes beneath a tone that is equal parts sardonic, kinetic, and unapologetically chaotic.
What initially begins as a portrait of masculine rivalry in Eddington gradually reveals a study in reactionary control, capturing a microcosm of America’s tumultuous political landscape in one rural town, and cynically submitting to Ari Aster’s combustible, existential chaos.
When the patriarch of one affluent family is lost in Brothers and Sisters of the Toda Family, there is little left to hold its fragmented remains together, and Yasujirō Ozu exacts a cutting critique of those intimate bonds weakened by class privilege.
While Alex Garland brings procedural precision to Warfare’s depiction of an ill-fated military operation, Ray Mendoza draws on his own firsthand experience to imbue it with an immersive, tactile realism, mounting tension through the real-time evolution of its descent into chaos.
Woman of Tokyo does not deliver the formal impact of Yasujirō Ozu’s later masterpieces, yet there is a melodramatic tension in its exposure of one young woman’s scandalous double life, glimpsing the quiet devastation that lies beneath domestic stability.
James Gunn’s blend of emotional sincerity and stylish flair in Superman offers a workable blueprint for the DC Universe, rejuvenating the alien hero with a radical, countercultural kindness, and nudging the genre towards stories that prioritise character over spectacle – without entirely sacrificing either.
Joseph Kosinski swaps jets for race cars in F1’s thrilling sports drama, stylishly redressing familiar tropes with sleek technical mastery, and turning its predictable rivalry into an electrifying, finely choreographed dance of collaboration.
The subdued melodrama of Tokyo Chorus stands as a delicate testament to those teachers who not only educate us, but sagely guide us through our lowest moments, as Yasujirō Ozu cultivates his craftsmanship through the tender-hearted tale of an unemployed family man.
What Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning lacks in deftness it makes up for in raw impact, unleashing a heart-pounding conclusion to the nuclear threat posed by a rogue AI parasite, and standing as an overstuffed, operatic monument to what practical filmmaking can still achieve when pushed to its edge.
When a man serving on a jury recognises his own unexpected culpability in Juror #2, moral turmoil begins to stir his conscience, offering a rich subject for Clint Eastwood’s study of stifled, agonising guilt.
