The psychological horror of I Saw the TV Glow turns a discerning eye towards the false identities and duplicitous illusions thrust upon queer communities, as Jane Schoenbrun casts a surreal, Lynchian filter over the journey of two nostalgic outcasts searching for truth in their favourite childhood show.
The sad state of the modern Italian film industry does little to dampen the spirits of its artists in Intervista, as Federico Fellini whimsically blurs the lines between life and his own film production, and celebrates the timeless relationships formed behind the scenes.
Trap’s premise of a pop concert being one enormous setup to catch a serial killer is inherently absurd, but M. Night Shyamalan is nothing if not bold with his high-concept thriller, drawing an intriguing divide down the middle of one man’s dual identities as an affable father and a sadistic murderer.
Ti West adeptly puts his own spin on the pulp, glamour, and splatter of 80s slasher movies in MaXXXine, satirically examining the cutthroat violence that underlies America’s celebrity culture, and ending his trilogic interrogation of the horror genre’s history with intoxicating, gaudy sensationalism.
Evil may take the form of a Satanic serial killer in Longlegs, but as Osgood Perkins leads us down an investigation of occult symbols, ciphers, and ritualistic murders, we must also confront the threat it poses to the sacred boundaries we draw around our own homes.
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.
