Those 1960s greasers who live fast and die young may be immortalised in The Bikeriders, yet theirs is also a subculture visibly seeping away, as Jeff Nichols examines the inner workings of one Chicago motorcycle club with equal parts sensitivity, scepticism, and swagger.
Dweeby college professor Gary relishes the challenge of posing as fake assassins for police sting operations in Hit Man, though beneath the darkly comic romance he strikes up with a client, Richard Linklater applies a macabre, psychoanalytic lens to false constructs of self-image and identity.
Michael Sarnoski’s reframing of A Quiet Place’s extra-terrestrial threat is conducted with impressive deftness in this prequel, developing an allegory for terminal illness that savours the joys of being alive, even as the series’ formulaic set pieces begin to grow thin.
Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World’s may focus on a single day for one overworked personal assistant, and yet the bleak urban landscape that Radu Jude stitches together from media fragments and dreary routines reveals the creeping onset of a global apocalypse, mechanically grinding modern civilisation into a never-ending traffic jam.
David Leitch’s satirical tribute to Hollywood’s most undervalued profession is clearly a labour of love for the former stuntman, as The Fall Guy leads one such daredevil into a conspiracy laden with fights, chases, and pyrotechnics, and celebrates that especially resilient breed of performer with a wry tinge of self-awareness.
The marriage between flighty romantic Wanda and the overly practical Ivan was never going to be an easy one, though at least the wild romp across Rome that emerges from their odd mismatch brings both newlyweds down to earth, as Federico Fellini offers divine redemption in The White Sheik to those who seek it out in the right places.
Federico Fellini’s love of theatre would take on great symbolic meaning in his later films, but it emerges quite directly here as the setting of his directorial debut Variety Lights, fuelling the drama between the flighty members of a travelling troupe dreaming of fame, money, and love.
By subverting the archaic legends that pass down prejudices from one generation to the next, Nimona recognises the freedom that lies in open-minded acceptance, uniting a fugitive knight and a chaotic shapeshifter against a conspiracy that threatens to destabilise their futuristic, medieval kingdom.
Lee Cronin brings a refreshing creativity to Sam Raimi’s demonic horror in Evil Dead Rise, as he allegorically twists the image of a loving family into that of dysfunctional household, and lays into the terror of seeing one’s mother transform into a hideous, abusive creature.
It is a cruel twist of irony that sees writer Monk Ellison’s parody of exploitative Black novels exalted as a serious piece of literature in American Fiction, and one which Cord Jefferson wields impressive self-awareness over, sharply satirising the liberal elite’s attempts to assuage their white guilt by gleefully consuming African American trauma in media.
