- TIFF 2026: River, Stuffed, The Housewife (September 12, 2026)
Sometimes themes emerge at festivals. Sometimes dispatches like this are merely about what played on the same day, location, or, in this case, both. While Sian Heder’s “Being Heumann” took the coveted spot of Opening Night at the Princess of Wales Theatre, three remarkably different films unfolded across the evening, just down the street at the Royal Alexandra. A horror film, morbid musical, and period drama filled the theatre for three movies in a row, and yours truly was there to report back. Sadly, only one truly made the impact it intended.
What if Leatherface could swim? This was the thought that possibly inspired Joshua Giuliano’s grisly debut, “River,” an IFC effort that should find a blood-loving audience outside of the fest circuit. Two modern-day scream queens in Jane Levy (“Evil Dead”) and Jessica Rothe (“Happy Death Day”) give their fearless, physical all, but the real star here is the sound design and remarkable POV choices that announce newcomer Giuliano as a major genre talent to watch. A lot of the buzz on the ground at TIFF this year has been the question of what could be this fest’s “Obsession”—the Curry Barker film premiered here almost exactly a year ago. “River” is too brutal to make that kinda bank, but it’s the kind of movie that horror fans will truly jump for, something they’ll tell their friends they need to see to believe.
“River” opens with one of its most remarkable scenes. As the camera slowly pans over an empty car with an open trunk, we hear the action that took place before the images on the screen. A couple talks, flirts, listens to music, and then notices someone watching them from the woods. Giuliano and his excellent cinematographer pan across the car from different angles as the sounds of violence fill the soundtrack, sometimes ending on something disturbing like a bloody dent in the car or a human leg. It’s a neat trick, but it’s also an overture to a film that will play with sound and POV in ways that horror often never considers.
The real action of “River” starts with the introduction of tough Lucy (Levy), gentle brother Drew (Max Mattern), and their virtually estranged sister Carla (Rothe). She’s come home after the death of their father, but don’t worry, this isn’t overtly “grief horror,” even if the different relationships these three had with dad feel like they influence their choices as they try to survive the worst night of their lives.
The trio heads out early with dad’s ashes to spread them on his favorite spot on the local river, just past a rickety bridge. After the ceremony, they discover their gas line has ruptured and they’re stuck. Carla swims to shore, but they spot a bloody, shirtless, masked figure before she gets there. From that point on, “River” is relentless, a slasher movie that somehow turns the open space of a river into someplace claustrophobic. You have no gas in your boat, and the shore contains its version of Michael Myers. What the F do you do? It’s the starting point for an insanely brutal journey, one that puts Levy through the wringer nearly as much as “Evil Dead,” and reminds viewers how remarkably physical she can be as a performer.
Levy and Rothe are fantastic, but it’s Giuliano’s use of space and sound that truly elevate “River” above your standard slasher flick. One game he loves to rewardingly play is to have his characters see something before we do—we watch their terrified expression, taking a beat in our own minds to imagine what they could possibly be seeing, before the camera reveals it. It’s remarkably effective, and it’s joined by some of the best genre sound design in years. This movie crunches and breaks in a manner that’s reminiscent of the IFC hit “In a Violent Nature.” With only a few tweaks it could actually have been a sequel to that movie in how it also presents an unkillable force of unimaginable violence through sound design and brutality.
“River” won’t be for everyone—it’s insanely violent—but those who like a slasher pic that isn’t afraid to slash will find so much to admire in a film that doesn’t just play like homage to the ‘70s and ‘80s era when slashers ruled but updates the aesthetics and structure of those films for a new era. The synopsis at TIFF references John Carpenter, which often feels like the kind of standard that does a midnight movie no favors because so few can live up to it. The best compliment I can pay this one is that I think John will dig it.
Theo Rhys’ “Stuffed” should be like shooting roadkill in a barrel for this fan of not just musical theater but morbid humor. Clearly inspired by dark musicals like Sweeney Todd and even Little Shop of Horrors, “Stuffed” is a unique love story with a slowing pulse, a movie about how we all long to be remembered, to do something extraordinary with our ordinary lives. Sadly, despite its captivating concept and influences, along with two committed leads, it’s a misfire, a movie that feels incredibly long at nearly two hours, and one that wastes its performances on characters on a story that never gets under your skin.
Harry Melling continues to impress as Bernie, an ordinary guy who works at the local sandwich factory and cares for a dementia-addled mother. He has absolutely nothing going for him, and he’ll have even less when mom dies. The aesthetic of Bernie’s life reminded me of several Tim Burton characters: oddballs who do their little best to rebel against a world of conformity. What can Bernie possibly do to find his purpose?
When he answers an ad in the paper via a website, he crosses paths with Araminta (Jodie Comer), an equally quirky soul with a morbid hobby. Araminta is a taxidermist, someone who brings home roadkill, skins it, and adds it to her house of silent, unmoving animal friends. She’s waiting on the ultimate prize: A human being. She convinces Bernie that the most extraordinary thing he could do is to live forever in her stuffed menagerie. As they both plan his death, doing things like fake his suicide, they get closer, leading to the question of if, through planning the goodbye for something with nothing, they’ve given him something to live for: Love.
All of this is set to original songs, most of them of the Les Mis sung-dialogue type. Rhys stays close on his talented performers, which allows them to emote through song, but leads to a shockingly flat film visually. There are two numbers with significant choreography—one in the factory with Bernie and another alongside his burning car—and they are easily the standout sequences in the film. I kept wanting the camera to pull back on these performers, to give them a chance to act with their bodies as much as their faces and voices. It leads to a movie that’s remarkably repetitive visually, while also spinning its wheels narratively for way too long. “Stuffed” needed another twist, character, or arc to justify its length. As is, it just feels too hollow.
Finally, there’s the disappointing “The Housewife,” a film that sadly fails a test of a fictional take on a true story in that a documentary about this subject would almost certainly be significantly more interesting. The biggest problem is that director Ben Shirinian never finds a visual language for this period drama, shooting it like a TV movie instead of a theatrical feature. Naomi Watts does her absolute best, but she gets lost in a character that screenwriter Alyssa Hill never quite figured out. On the one hand, Hermine Braunsteiner would be difficult for anyone to unpack, but Shirinian is too content to keep her as a mystery for the first half of the film and an unspeakable villain for the second. The result is a movie that has no real identity, not in character, visual, or theme.
Watts plays Hermine Ryan, a New York woman in Queens in the ‘60s. She’s the pillar of her community, admired by her neighbors and loved by her husband Russell (Luke Evans). When the New York Times gets a tip from Elie Wiesenthal that the Ryan house is hiding a Nazi right in a New York City borough, writer Joseph Lelyveld (Tye Sheridan) goes to the house to talk to Russell, falling for Hermine’s warmth and excellent oatmeal raisin cookies. Of course, it’s barely a spoiler to reveal that it’s not Russell that the Times, and eventually the U.S. Government (personified here by an immigration officer played by Michael Imperioli), should worry about: It’s “The Mare,” a female guard at Majdanek given that name because of how much she liked to kick prisoners. She was the first Nazi extradited from the United States, accused of collaborating in the murders of over 1,000 people.
Watts is most interesting in scenes in which she allows The Mare to sneak through the façade that she has created as a perfect immigrant wife. At first, she totally denies the charges, but Watts allows us to peek at the evil barely concealed underneath. Despite how the screenplay forces her to play aspects of Hermine that feel tailored to the movie more than real, Watts makes choices that shine through.
There’s not much to praise about the rest. It’s one of those historical dramas that means well, one that thinks the power of the true story will do the heavy lifting, but questions like what this narrative means in 2026 or how to make it visually engaging were never asked. The idea that a child-murdering Nazi could become a beloved Queens housewife is a fascinating one. But a movie needs to be more than just an idea.
- Venice 2026: The Basics of Philosophy, Diane in the Loop, Look Back (September 11, 2026)
“The Basics of Philosophy” might be the worst film of Paul Schrader’s career. Jack Huston stars as John Jorrinson, a philosophy professor at a small Midwestern college who is erudite, multitalented (he plays piano well enough to teach it), and troubled in ways he can’t or won’t recognize. He’s dating a psychology prof named Rebecca (Sofia Boutella) but has a secret life picking up men at Sidekicks Saloon (where John gets his kicks on the side). The place has a rainbow motif outside, and a rainbow lighting scheme inside, but both are overpowered by hellish red lighting. Because John is sinning, you see.
John also has a disturbing secret in his past, hinted at when a younger man who looks oddly familiar shows up at the funeral of John’s beloved dad, Melvyn (Bill Pullman), a businessman and pillar of the local community, and locks eyes with John. Through flashbacks and present-tense scenes, we learn this man is a former student, Miguel Vasque (Daniel Zovatto), the son of a Mexican-American man who once worked on Melvyn Jorrinson’s estate. The lad was John’s piano student until John groomed and then molested him.
The movie doesn’t treat this as a spoiler, tipping its hand early, then watching fate close around John’s neck. Schrader’s upfront way of handling the pedo material is only slightly more sophisticated than its depiction of Jack’s identity as a gay man, which is strangely retrograde in its details and suffused in a fog of shame that doesn’t seem entirely a function of the story. At one point, Jack asks his former student if being molested by a man turned him gay and is relieved when Miguel says no.
The psychosexual aspects of the story are soon eclipsed by a thriller scenario. This is unsurprising, given that John’s private life is such a moral as well as professional disaster that it’s a wonder he wasn’t blackmailed earlier. Zovatto’s character gets pulled into a criminal plot against John, teetering between vengeful feelings and humanistic objections in ways that seem tied to whatever the plot requires at any given moment. The pressure causes John to fake a sudden desire to marry his girlfriend, in whom he had little interest before.
“American Gigolo” star Richard Gere has a scene as the university president, who knew John’s father, is determined to bring John into the local establishment, and warns him, “You may be gay, but you’re gonna maintain the illusion of propriety.” It’s an effective cameo that doubles as a callback to Schrader’s early years. The hero of “American Gigolo,” Julian Kay, is a social striver who prefers to sleep with rich women and refuses to accept same-sex trysts or any other assignment he considers kinky because they remind him of the period before he became respectable (in his own mind, anyway).
“The Basics of Philosophy” is the latest installment in what Schrader has labeled his “Man in a Room” series, with some written and directed by Schrader and others written only (such as “Taxi Driver”). All follow loners who struggle to make meaningful connections with others and record their struggles in journals. From “Taxi Driver” and “Light Sleeper” through a more recent triptych consisting of “First Reformed,” “The Card Counter,” and “Master Gardener.”
He literally wrote the book on such films: his canonical 1972 film theory book, Transcendental Style in Film: Ozu, Bresson, Dreyer, identified most of the characteristics of a Paul Schrader film before he’d actually made one. The last filmmaker in the book’s title, Robert Bresson, directed some of Schrader’s all-time favorites, including “Diary of a Country Priest” and “Pickpocket,” both of which are invoked here. Never let it be said that the former film critic doesn’t honor his artistic inspirations.
Unfortunately, although this one feels as personal as everything else Schrader does, it’s far from a classic on the order of “Mishima” or “First Reformed,” or even a fitfully strong movie in the vein of “The Comfort of Strangers” or “The Light of Day.” The writing tends toward stilted and declamatory. Some of its big conceptual swings just don’t connect.
The biggest misfire is the fantasy sequence in which John encounters one of his inspirations, Baruch Spinoza (Karl Glausman of “The Neon Demon”), in a park and discusses whether individuals are truly capable of change. Spinoza wears a “period” outfit that looks like it was FedExed from the Spirit Halloween Store in Amsterdam. Mel Brooks would have known what to do here.
Technically, “The Basics of Philosophy” is barely professional. Both the present-day color scenes and the black-and-white flashbacks have a harsh, sometimes blown-out, very video look. Huston struggles valiantly to find a person inside a role that’s mainly a pack mule for Schrader’s baggage. Huston’s solution, while not wholly successful, is nevertheless ingenious: he plays most of his scenes smiling, seeming as if he’s about to smile, or holding back a smile, a time-honored tactic of deceivers trying to seem honest and sincere.
Pullman nails his role as a charming patriarch who treats money as a velvet hammer. “Light Sleeper” costar Dana Delaney as the hero’s sister Gloria, Shiloh Fernandez as a gun shop owner that John picks up at Sidekicks, and especially Boutella as Rebecca, do their best to make lemonade from lemons. But this movie is a sour misfire.
With its jump cuts, plain close-ups, matter-of-fact use of real-life locations, and handheld shots taken from just behind people’s shoulders as they move through space, “Diane in the Loop” superficially suggests a missing film by one of the greatest directors of modern neorealist dramas: the Dardenne brothers. As it turns out, the Belgian siblings only produced this movie. But writer-directors Anne Sirot and Raphaël Balboni not only honor the masters but also infuse the tale with dry humor and a playful air of mystery that is uncharacteristic of them, which makes the movie bearable when it goes dark.
If you walked into “Diane” without knowing any plot details, you might mistake it for a quirky family comedy with a wistful, slightly sad undertone. The heroine, 28-year-old Diane (Ninon Borsei), initially presents as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl type, wandering the countryside, encountering fellow eccentrics, and letting us know her. She’s a loner by choice, is frustrated by many things (including her inability to finish her graduate thesis), and admits she has difficulty sustaining relationships. By osmosis, seemingly, she has absorbed some of the damage inflicted on her mother (Sandrine Black), who was raped as a young woman but kept it a secret from Diane until a conversation that occurs early in the film. Diane demands to know the perpetrator’s name. Her mother won’t disclose it. She would rather leave the past in the past and keep moving forward with her life.
Many movies explore revenge and/or justice, and how the two concepts risk becoming interchangeable. A lot of these movies revolve around sexual assault, its aftermath, and the general indifference of society when it comes to legally dealing with the crime. This one is free of the usual clichés. The film discusses the crime but doesn’t show it.
The big question here (thankfully never summarized by the characters in dialogue) is whether a victim has the sole right to determine how others should view a crime committed against them, and can exercise veto power over those who disagree. Intergenerational trauma caused by rape is embedded into the story in a way that makes it feel like part of the fabric of life rather than a prompt for online discourse. The horrible ordinariness of the outrage makes it more disturbing, as does the way it must constantly take a backseat to the tedious demands of daily life.
The story turns into a kind of buddy movie with romantic potential when a cyclist (Lucas Meister) enters Diane’s orbit. After a prickly first encounter, they meet each other again, and it’s apparent that they click as classic movie couples should. But this is not one of those movies that establishes the heroine’s negative attitude towards men as a setup to present her with an exception who will win her heart (which would have been pretty gross, anyway, given the main storyline). What the movie does with this relationship is so right in every way that it’s best if you experience it yourself.
“Diane in the Loop” lives up to its title, which alludes to the self-defeating cycles of behavior that keep people from evolving. It also does justice to many perspectives on how to handle an unpunished crime. It’s hard to think of another film on this subject that’s as life-affirming.
“Look Back” is the third telling of a story of the friendship and creative partnership between two young girls who are obsessed with manga, break into the business through pure talent and determination, and forge a partnership that seems ordained by the universe until tragedy strikes. The first telling was the source material for the adaptations: the one-shot 2021 web manga of the same name. The second was a 2024 animated feature co-written and directed by Kiyotaka Oshiyama. The third pass is a live-action movie, radiantly shot by cinematographer Senzo Ueno on 35mm film, and written, edited, and directed by one of Japan’s greatest living auteurs, Hirokazu Kore-eda (“Like Father, Like Son,” “Still Walking”).
It’s a testament to the story’s innate power that it can not only support more than one adaptation in a short timespan, but also inspire storytellers to explore the potential of different media (respectively, animation and live-action cinema) with the same focus and inventiveness the fictional duo brought to their beloved manga. The Kore-eda version is a highlight of the moviegoing year, so affecting that it proved impossible to find anyone who saw it at Venice who got through the whole thing without ugly-crying at least once.
The artistic duo consists of a popular go-getter named Fujino (played by Furi Nanase as a girl and Natsuki Deguchi as a young adult) and her friend Kyomoto (Rokka Okada and Aju Makita). They meet when Fujino’s teacher asks her to hand-deliver a diploma to Kyomoto, who was constantly absent and didn’t show up at all toward the end of the spring semester. It turns out that Kiyomoto suffers from agoraphobia so severe that she can barely stand to leave her room, let alone walk to school and spend the day there.
After initial tension, they become friends based on their mutual love of manga, always meeting at Kyomoto’s house and spending many long hours in her room working out original material. With Fujino serving as project taskmaster and drawing the characters while Kyomoto executes breathtakingly detailed backgrounds, the two complete a 42-page story that wins a student art contest, catapulting them into the professional world and earning acclaim for the work’s quality and the artists’ youth.
“Look Back” is mainly an experiential film, investing most of its energy in showing you what it feels like to be in a place and do a thing. We get to know every square centimeter of Kyomoto’s room, become familiar with the girls’ different body language and taste in clothes, shoes and makeup, and spend lots of time watching their art as they plan and create it. Agoraphobic viewers will appreciate the treatment of the condition, as serious but not uncommon, and fully deserving of sympathy.
The scratch-scratching of pen nibs on paper and the squeak of fat-tipped markers are central elements in the soundtrack, along with the roar of storms, the din of city noise, and the seawave hiss of wind moving through grasslands and treetops. Just as you find yourself wondering whether this director is paying tribute to another Japanese legend, Hayao Miyazaki, the movie answers by briefly showing the girls admiring art books from the director’s movies.
The boldest aspect of “Look Back” is the way it deploys live-action filmmaking technology in a way that reminds us of the sweetest and most viscerally involving techniques perfected by Miyazaki, especially the master’s willingness to sideline or suspend the plot and let us bask in a moment, such as the girls running home through the countryside after school or the physical process of penciling and inking pages of artwork and applying screens to get the gradations of shadow just right.
The movie takes a sharp turn into heartbreak midway through, with a twist that’s as shocking as it is believable, but “Look Back” doesn’t cheapen the event’s power by wallowing in it, instead using it as a means to explore how artists use the worst events in their lives as fuel for artistic expression and personal growth.
When was the last time you saw a movie that ended with an affirmation of art’s ability to alchemize suffering into a statement that touches all who encounter it? This is a movie you’ll remember fondly. It might even make you want to buy pens and paper and make comics.
- “Marvel’s Wolverine” is a Bloody Good Time, Bub (September 10, 2026)
Superheroes really are back in 2026. As if they ever left. The record-breaking success of “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” segues nicely into next week’s long-awaited release of Insomniac’s “Marvel’s Wolverine,” a game with structural echoes of the company’s beloved “Spider-Man” games, with significantly less kid-friendly violence and more linear, intense storytelling. After a prologue/tutorial that feels a bit rocky in storytelling and gameplay, “Wolverine” settles in spectacularly, strapping players into a rollercoaster narrative and telling them not to panic. With remarkably fluid combat, gorgeous graphics, strong voice work, and compelling storytelling, this is one of the best games of 2026, which has already been a remarkably great year for gaming before roughly a dozen more intriguing titles come out before Thanksgiving. The Sony disc drama aside, it’s a good time to be a gamer.
“Marvel’s Wolverine” also owes a wonderful amount to the movies most readers have probably seen about the man with Adamantium bones. At first, it feels like it’s intentionally echoing the excellent “Logan,” the best film about this beloved character, in its sketch of a slightly older Wolverine forced into a protective role for more vulnerable mutants when the evil Bolivar Trask starts kidnapping them. The plan to eradicate mutantkind sends Logan back to his allies at Team X, including founder Nathaniel Essex and familiar faces like Sabretooth, Mystique, and Jean Grey, sketched very differently here than the Sadie Sink version from “BND.” More on that later.
After Team X rescues a group of mutants from Trask’s captivity, including Callisto, “Marvel’s Wolverine” pivots again to incorporate other comic book and film source material. It’s the kind of story that never directly mimics something you’ve seen before, but one can definitely feel the influence of Bryan Singer’s films on Logan’s search for identity and even Jean Grey’s ultimate arc (don’t worry, comic fans—I didn’t just spoil that it goes full Dark Phoenix à la the horrendous “The Last Stand”). As the story moves to Japan, it also brings in some of that country’s influence on this character, as seen cinematically in James Mangold’s underrated “The Wolverine.” You’ll even get to slice and dice your way through hundreds of members of The Hand, also seen in the best action sequence in “Brand New Day.”
And I do mean slice and dice. Parents should be warned that this game is far more violent than they may expect from the developers of “Miles Morales.” The developers don’t dull Logan’s blades in the slightest, allowing you to use them to stab, mutilate, and decapitate on a regular basis. The combat gameplay is familiar in its mix of strike, parry, dodge, and special powers, but it’s as fluid as any game like this that’s ever been released. As techniques, unlike new skills that recharge over time and one improves at the base mechanics, Wolverine becomes almost a Tasmanian Devil of a killing machine, taking enemies out at a rate befitting one of comicdom’s most beloved heroes. It gets to the point where one sees a dozen enemies and doesn’t question how to get through them but wonders why there aren’t more. By the time I got into my New Game Plus playthrough, I had fully mastered the combat of “Wolverine” as much as any game in years, and the adrenaline rush of a perfectly executed move simply never abates. I’ll honestly miss it.
Of course, a game can’t just be about decapitating fools who underestimated a man with claws. As for the rest of the experience, the set pieces are so spectacular that you can forgive the lackluster exploration. As for the latter, Logan often has to find something in a room to push the story forward, which basically just amounts to looking for the white dot that cues you to hit triangle. It’s not exactly thrilling. On the other hand, there are a couple of motorcycle set pieces that are so spectacular that you’ll wish there were more of them, and the big action sequences are as impressive as any MCU movie. The truth is that “Marvel’s Wolverine” gets the big and basic things right; so the minor connective tissue like running around the Team X facility to find the triangle that will push the story forward isn’t really a drag as much as a little break from the intensity before it becomes numbing.
Something else that elevates “Marvel’s Wolverine” over many games of this generation is its attention to environment. As you can imagine, when Logan turns into a blade whirlwind, nothing is safe, and the designers brilliantly allow you to leave a mark, whether it’s just a blade scratch on metal or something more intense. For example, you get into a fight in an arcade in Japan, and no claw machine is safe. Most combat sequences end in the kind of environmental destruction rarely seen in games where you can still take cover behind a wooden box, and it’s the kind of detail that really elevates the overall experience. It should also be noted that this game makes use of the PS5 controller in expansive ways, whether it’s a radio signal or just the hum and buzz of action. And the load times are insanely fast. You can go from startup to combat in actual seconds.
Finally, while “Marvel’s Wolverine” is incredibly fun, it’s also narratively richer than many superhero games. Without spoiling, Logan and Jean Grey become allies not just in stopping the big bad of this game but in figuring out the details of Logan’s lost past. Like in the Singer movies and some of the comic arcs, Logan is a killing machine who doesn’t really know how he got that way, and the script here lands in a place that’s both satisfying and poignant. It’s as rich as the great Uncanny X-Men arcs that this comic book fan grew up loving, and a reminder of how both superhero fiction and gaming can be so much more satisfying when it’s developed with true love, care, and mutilations.
Sony provided a review copy of this game. It is available on September 15, exclusively on PlayStation.
- Telluride Film Festival 2026: Table of Contents (September 9, 2026)
The 53rd annual Telluride Film Festival runs from September 4th-7th in Telluride, Colorado. Every year, the RogerEbert.com team returns to the fest to cover some of the festival’s most notable releases, as well as some under-the-radar curiosities we feel deserve to be discussed.
Below is our compiled writing from the fest, courtesy of Associate Editor Robert Daniels and contributors Cortlyn Kelly and Tomris Laffly. Keep checking this space as our coverage continues.
Reviews
You Can See Everything (Tomris Laffly)
Gentle Monster (Cortlyn Kelly)
The Only Living Pickpocket in New York (Robert Daniels)
Tenzing (CK)
Fatherland (RD)
Dispatches
Telluride 2026: Illusion of an Everlasting Summer, Burgundy, Rehearsals for a Revolution (CK)
Telluride 2026: Alpha Gang, The Liberation, The Idiots (RD)
- Telluride 2026: Illusion of an Everlasting Summer, Burgundy, Rehearsals for a Revolution (September 9, 2026)
In its 53rd edition, the Telluride Film Festival remains an industry leader in showcasing strong, technically excellent stories. While its documentary slate drew significant attention for the world premiere of the secret A24 documentary, “You Can See Everything,” several other titles are worth watching. Compared to previous years, the 2026 festival’s documentary curation is quite diverse in both subject matter and style.
“Illusion of an Everlasting Summer” sounds like an idyllic, beachy CD one’s parents would play in the car with the windows down. This nod to nostalgia is exactly the lens director Alessandra Sanguinetti wants us to look through to see her new documentary. Better known for her photography, Sanguinetti expands and personalizes her practice in piecing together footage captured across 25 years.
Beginning in the late 1990s, “Illusion of an Everlasting Summer” introduces its two main subjects, Guillermina and Belinda, cousins and soulmates. The camcorder quality also contributes to the film’s desire for the past. The grainy home-video texture adds innocence to the young girls’ curiosity in play. Their life in rural Argentina is filled with each other’s company, and although they’re aware they’re being recorded, it doesn’t seem to inhibit their actions.
The girls do not age significantly until past the movie’s halfway mark; thereafter, the time jumps grow increasingly quick. In a way, this choppy imbalance symbolizes how time moves faster and faster as we grow up, but it lands as unintentional. As the years go by, Guillermina and Belinda drift apart; the movie is the only thing keeping them in regular contact. Watching their warm, tender bond harden and wither stings worse than a romantic breakup. Guillermina rightly and poignantly chops it up as part of life. Sanguinetti’s stationary camera keeps rolling, and we see her smile soften and fade.
In reflecting further on the poetic title, “Illusion of an Everlasting Summer,” it is metaphorically and intricately woven into the documentary’s key themes. While the most compelling anecdotes are concentrated at the end, this is a contemplative, casual coming-of-age documentary.
“Where pleasure is treated like a religion” was the motto that drew directors Michael Dweck and Gregory Kershaw to beautifully document one of the most illustrious wine regions in France. The duo, known for visually rich representations of niche industries (“The Truffle Hunters”), bring their aesthetic excellence to their new film, “Burgundy.” Introducing each subject as if they were a character in a narrative feature, the film maintains cinematic energy that matches the region’s rich culture and history.
Enzo, monikered “The Boy,” is an aspirational 20-year-old with an old soul. The main plot of “Burgundy” centers on his professional and personal growth, including a budding relationship with Celeste, “The Girl.” There are several other storylines, like a wine critic (Guillaume) and a sommelier (Eric), that weave together to reveal the connectivity of Burgundy’s wine-and-dine ecosystem, but none of them are spotlighted like Enzo. His dedication to the land and vineyard translates into a natural presence in front of the camera. Rather than traditional sit-down interviews with its subjects, the documentary positions itself as a fly on the wall, watching each person work from afar. In keeping the frame stationary for most shots, we’re fixated and able to catch every detail of the subjects’ craft.
Most of the dialogue comes from conversations between people. This choice also shapes the movie’s narrative, as if some moments are scripted or staged. Although we hear each person’s thoughts and feelings as they express them to another, each moment still feels intimate. To truly achieve the dreamlike state that they sought to create, Dweck and Kershaw pepper the film with Super 8 footage. A childlike segment of Enzo and Celeste reenacting “Bonnie and Clyde” adds levity, but feels like an extra effort that detracts from the authenticity of its key characters.
“Burgundy” ties up every thread it pulls with a pretty bow. Most resonant is the way the characters come together to expose how age, for the people and the wine, is a complex concept for the region.
“Rehearsals for a Revolution” is a personal letter to Iran and its people from director, writer, and producer Pegah Ahangarani. She reflects on her purpose for making the film: “Is this how I make up for not being there?” In posing this, the audience ponders alongside her, but is gutted to hear the sadness in her voice as she wishes things could be different.
Chronologically pieced together in 5 episodes, Ahangarani organizes each story around a key person. Beginning with her father, Ahangarani traces the origins of her lineage’s role in Iran’s revolutionary history. By introducing her mother, a lifelong filmmaker, the film also reveals Ahangarani’s cinematic roots. She makes it evident that “Rehearsals for a Revolution” would not be possible without this combined inheritance.
Collaged from archival photos, footage, audio, and media pieces, the film’s multimedia approach highlights common threads across each episode and through Iran’s revolutionary history from the 1980s to the 2020s. Ahangarani narrates every moment, and her steady, almost stoic, voice demonstrates the resilience at the heart of the story. Even when it’s hard, damning, or life-threatening, it’s crucial to keep going. Speaking directly to the audience creates a connection between the filmmaker and the viewer, further personalizing “Rehearsals for a Revolution.” The layered sound design of papers rustling and wind blowing immerses us in the archives.
Once Ahangarani grows up and begins carrying around a camera of her own, the state-sanctioned violence is increasingly insidious. After each episode, the film provides an informational card that recaps the current cultural relevance; this also strengthens the connectivity between each portrait. The weight of “Rehearsals for a Revolution” is not borne alone; it’s an affirmation that collectivism and activism can, and must, prevail.
- Meghann Fahy & Rose Byrne are Sisters in 'The Good Daughter' Teaser (September 11, 2026)
"Why the hell are they here?" "Because you're here." Peacock has revealed the chilling first teaser trailer for the upcoming series The Good Daughter, arriving for streaming in November this fall. Created & written by Karin Slaughter, based on her novel of the same name – which was originally described as "A Chilling Psychological Horror Novel of Family Bonds and Haunting Memories." Sisters Charlotte & Samantha Quinn have spent the last 20 years trying to piece together the lives that were fractured by one night of violence. When another attack splinters the small town of Pikeville, Charlotte – now a lawyer like her father – is the first witness on the scene. As the case unfolds and twists through painful memories and buried secrets, what emerges is not just a story of survival, but of enduring ties and complex bonds. Starring Rose Byrne and Meghann Fahy as sisters Samantha & Charlotte, along with Brendan Gleeson, Harper Steele, Paula Malcomson, Jake McDorman, Olivia Williams, and Michael Dorman. This is a properly unsettling teaser setting up the premise involving these masked men taking these women when they were young. Now they're back decades later and ready to reconcile. And perhaps get revenge? You'll have to watch to find out. // Continue Reading ›
- First Trailer for Herbert Nordrum's 'Growth of the Soil' Set in Norway (September 11, 2026)
"What if we actually succeeded?" Beta Cinema has debuted the first trailer for Growth of the Soil, a love story set in Norway from filmmaker Hans Petter Moland. He's back again this year with a new film which is premiering at the 2026 Toronto Film Festival this month. It's playing at both TIFF and San Sebastian, and was already selected by Norway as their Oscar submission film this year. Based on the Nobel Prize winning novel by Knut Hamsun, this epic story is set against the harsh yet spectacular backdrop of the Norwegian mountains and directed by one of Norway's best directors, Hans Petter Moland (In Order of Disappearance, Out Stealing Horses). Two humans against nature, breaking new ground on the outskirts somewhere in northern Norway. Guided by the elementary needs of life, where abilities are put to the test as the challenges loom. But can their love last? Starring Herbert Nordrum (from The Worst Person in the World), Asta Kamma August, Gard B. Eidsvold, Anders Baasmo, Oddgeir Thune, and Sjur Vatne Brean. TIFF adds: "Moland and his superb cast ensure that Hamsun’s story of how this couple’s hard-won home cannot protect them from history’s wider forces — or from more human sorts of frailties and failings — comes to the screen with all the grace & gravity it deserves." Reminds me of Godland - the reality of living from the land. // Continue Reading ›
- Tut Nyuot Stars in Excellent Prison Drama 'Animol' Official UK Trailer (September 11, 2026)
"Can anyone tell me what shame feels like?" Sky TV has revealed an official UK trailer for acclaimed prison drama titled Animol, an indie film that's the feature directional debut of actor Ashley Walters. It premiered at Berlinale earlier this year and has been playing at festivals around the world the rest of the year. Behind the walls of a juvenile detention center, young inmates navigate friendship, identity, and personal growth while confronting harsh realities following their own paths to redemption. Troy is sent into the brutal world of British prisons, but his bond with a fellow inmate offers some solace. Similar to the film Great Freedom, and also similar to the other UK prison film Wasteman last year. This introduces rising talents, Tut Nyuot (in The Long Walk) and Vladyslav Baliuk as two teenagers embroiled in the prison's harsh environment. Stephen Graham also co-stars as the Welfare Officer tasked with supporting the young offenders during their incarceration and Sharon Duncan-Brewster plays Troy's mother, too. I've just seen this one only a few months ago and it's good, really good, with an exceptional performance by Tut Nyuot. Get a look below. // Continue Reading ›
- Full Trailer for 'November 1963' JFK Conspiracy Film w/ John Travolta (September 11, 2026)
"Do you vouch for him? What if he misses?" Ketchup Entertainment has unveiled the official trailer for the film November 1963, a conspiracy thriller revisiting JFK's assassination in 1963. From Oscar-nominated filmmaker Roland Joffé (of The Killing Fields, The Mission, Fat Man & Little Boy, City of Joy, The Scarlet Letter), who I thought was retired, but apparently not. November 1963 unfolds over a tense, 48-hour period surrounding one of the most shocking events in American history: the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. This film focuses on the other theory: that maybe the mob killed him. Starring John Travolta, Robert Carlyle, Dermot Mulroney, Mandy Patinkin, and Jefferson White, the film draws on first-hand accounts and insights from the family of Chicago crime boss Sam Giancana, and explores the alleged deal between Joe Kennedy and the Chicago Outfit that helped put JFK in the White House and the deadly betrayal that followed. "With a secret plan, a second shooter waiting in the shadows, and a 'patsy' positioned to take the fall, November 1963 reveals a side of the JFK assassination rarely seen before." Well, this looks like a weird film. Why tell this story now & shift the focus from the CIA? Why is Travolta so into this? Huh. // Continue Reading ›
- Wacky Fun Teaser for 'Flapjax' Gooey Gross Sci-Fi Horror Comedy Film (September 11, 2026)
"We promise – they're just like mother used to make." Who wants a helping of alien pancakes for breakfast? Bad Taste Video has launched the first trailer for Flapjax, a fun new gross out, extra gooey horror comedy made by filmmaker Rocko Zevenbergen. A wacky fun sci-fi comedy creation from the same people behind Bad Taste Video podcast – this is premiering at Fantastic Fest this fall. "Blending the cinematic influences of Ozu and Cronenberg, Flapjax is a wild, unsettling, and heartfelt." This teaser is plenty to make me hungry for more! An over-eager fast-food manager unknowingly executes plans of an alien race by serving a deadly new item on the menu: FLAPJAX. 🥞 He soon becomes ensnared by the company's true intentions and his deeply rooted mommy issues. The film stars Gabriel Cagan, Georgia Kate Haege, Madeline Barbush, Estevan Muñoz, Kaoru Koide, Takumi Mitobe, & Daniel Berkey. "So consume this feast you must! Flapjax is sure to go into the darkest corners of your stomach and sure to be a blast with a Fantastic Fest audience." Always amused by weird low budget indie creations - packed with so much cinematic creativity. // Continue Reading ›
