- Cannes 2026 Video #9: Critics Roundtable (May 23, 2026)
The 2026 Cannes Film Festival starts Tuesday, May 12th, running through May 24th. The Ebert team returns this year with coverage of all of the major films in review and video form. In this video dispatch, Managing Editor Brian Tallerico and our correspondents talk about the highs and lows of this year’s fest.
- Cannes 2026: Table of Contents (May 23, 2026)
The 2026 Cannes Film Festival starts Tuesday, May 12th, running through May 24th. The Ebert team returns this year with coverage of all of the major films in review and video form.
Below is a running index of our reviews, dispatches, and video reports from the festival.
Full Reviews
Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma review: Slasher fans get the homage they deserve by Brian Tallerico
Propeller One-Way Night Coach review: Travolta’s directorial debut never takes flight by Brian Tallerico
Hope review: Bonkers Korean monster movie destroys the hero narrative by Robert Daniels
Her Private Hell review: Refn is back with shallow trip to the underworld by Brian Tallerico
Fjord review: Thorny moral quandary in this icy drama by Brian Tallerico
The Samurai and the Prisoner review: Riveting 16th century epic plays like Samurai Columbo by Brian Tallerico
Victorian Psycho: More frustrating than fun horror-comedy can’t find a tone by Brian Tallerico
Video Reports
Cannes 2026 Video #1: The 79th Cannes Film Festival Begins!
Cannes 2026 Video #2: A Look Back at Day One of the Fest
Cannes 2026 Video #3: Nagi Notes, Camp Miasma, Werner Herzog
Cannes 2026 Video #4: Festival Dispatch with Zachary Lee
Cannes 2026 Video #5: Festival Dispatch with Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026 Video #6: Club Kid, Paper Tiger, Clarissa
Cannes 2026 Video #7: Festival Dispatch with Jason Gorber
Cannes 2026 Video #8: Dua, I’ll Be Gone in June, La Gravida
Cannes 2026 Video #9: Critics Roundtable
Festival Dispatches
Cannes 2026: The Electric Kiss by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Fatherland, Parallel Tales by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: Nagi Notes, Ashes by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Ken Russell’s The Devils, Pan’s Labyrinth, Moonlighting by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: All of a Sudden, Think Good by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Clarissa, Atonement, Butterfly Jam by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: The Beloved, A Woman’s Life, Gentle Monster by Robert Daniels
Cannes 2026: Paper Tiger, Sheep in the Box by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: John Lennon: The Last Interview, La Libertad Doble by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: The Meltdown, La Frappe, I’ll Be Gone in June by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: Avedon, Visitation by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Club Kid, Marie Madeleine by Robert Daniels
Cannes 2026: The Unknown, Another Day by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Iron Boy, Tangles, Lucy Lost by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: Minotaur, Red Rocks by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: The Man I Love, Orange-Flavoured Wedding by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Dua, Made of Flesh and Fuel, Six Months in a Pink and Blue Building by Robert Daniels
Cannes 2026: The Black Ball, Bitter Christmas by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: A Man of His Time, Moulin, Coward by Robert Daniels
Cannes 2026: I Saw Buildings Fall Like Lightning, Diary of a Chambermaid, La Perra by Robert Daniels
Cannes 2026: Maverick: The Epic Adventures of David Lean, Dernsie: The Amazing Life of Bruce Dern by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: The Birthday Party, When the Night Falls by Brian Tallerico
Cannes 2026: The Dreamed Adventure, Too Many Beasts, Women on Trial, Che Guevara: The Last Companions by Ben Kenigsberg
Cannes 2026: Everytime, Ben’Imana, Titanic Ocean by Robert Daniels
Cannes 2026: Colony, The End of It, Roma Elastica by Brian Tallerico
- Cannes 2026: Colony, The End of It, Roma Elastica (May 23, 2026)
Midnights have become an unusual program at Cannes, especially as genre titles have broken free from the containment of the late-night program and popped in places like Un Certain Regard (“Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma”), Cannes Premieres (“Victorian Psycho”), Out of Competition (“Her Private Hell“), and even Competition (“Hope”). What’s left for the actual Midnight Screenings program? The answer is not much. While Jane Schoenbrun and Na Hong-Jin’s films earned their buzz on the Croisette, there wasn’t much chatter about the actual midnight films, in part because many were seen as disappointing. Zachary Lee will hit three of them here soon, but I have two to anchor this dispatch, and I can’t recommend either.
Yeon Sang-ho’s “Train to Busan” was a bolt of lightning to the genre, a fantastically conceived and executed zombie movie that hummed with the promise of a bold career to follow. The sequel, “Peninsula,” was a bit of a letdown, but featured some great set pieces and reasonably strong ambition. What is there to say really about his 2026 offering, “Colony,” which is already setting the box office on fire in South Korea but only infuriated this genre fan with its aggressively derivative approach and frustrating geography? “Colony” should have been a bloody escape from a Cannes dominated by long chamber pieces, but it was honestly one of the hardest movies to get through this year once I realized it was never going to come together.
Kwon Se-jeong (Jun Ji-hyun) is a biotechnology professor without a job after a controversial exit. She’s invited to a conference by her ex-husband in the hope it could lead to new employment, but something much more terrifying than a job interview happens. A disgraced scientist named Seo Young-cheol (Koo Kyo-hwan) shows up with a syringe full of deadly stuff, stabbing the head of the biotech company leading the event.
Before you know it, the exec looks like a “Bone Temple” reject, and he starts biting/turning the people around him. It turns out that Young-cheol is not only immune, he can communicate with the hive mind of creatures about to wreak havoc. Sang-ho’s one interesting idea is a zombie hive mind wherein the villains of the piece can communicate and learn from one another, although “The Last of Us” kinda did that first.
There’s a whole ton of “kinda did that first” in “Colony,” including nods to George A. Romero and the entire “Resident Evil” franchise. Not every zombie movie needs to rewrite the manual, but if you’re not going to be original than you need to be well-executed, and Sang-ho can’t keep a consistent choreography to a film set largely in a Korean skyscraper. On the macro level, it’s never clear enough where our survivors are and where they’re going; on a micro level, the action values chaos over coherency. Maybe Sang-ho needed the confined space of a train to really hit his mark. Let’s get him back on board one soon.
Maria Martinez Bayona’s “The End of It” could have been in Midnights, but it’s actually in Cannes Premiere instead, probably because it’s intended more of a conversation starter about aging and mortality than a straightforward sci-fi/horror piece. It’s a film with so many good ideas that go almost nowhere, becoming an increasingly dispiriting exercise in lack of follow-through. This “Black Mirror”-esque riff starts with so much potential, and its undefeated leading lady sustains that promise for longer than lesser performers could have, but just doesn’t ultimately have much to say. A decent performance, strong production design, and sharp ending can’t stop the feeling that this is an idea in search of a movie.
Rebecca Hall plays Clare, who is about to celebrate her 250th birthday in this vision of the future that looks a lot like our own. When she breaks a rib, it’s replaced, and she’s informed that it was her last original bone. The impending birthday, general malaise, and the sense that she’s not really there any more lead Clare to a controversial decision: She’s going to end it. Husband Diego (Gael Garcia Bernal) doesn’t understand and cyborg assistant Sarah (Beanie Feldstein) seems equally confused. 180-year-old daughter Martha (Noomi Rapace) returns to say goodbye, bringing potential android babies for practice given she now hopes that her offspring could take Clare’s spot in the eternal roster—it’s a one out, one in kinda thing. It does lead to the movie’s funniest beat: When Claire throws a synthetic baby that’s annoying her out a window.
Bayona takes a cool, cynical approach to everything that happens in “The End of It,” an aesthetic enhanced by sparse production design. It’s a clinical way to tell this story that puts a window around it that keeps any sort of emotional engagement at bay. What does it mean to die after 250 years? What would it mean for a world of perfect synthetic people to live that long? Does Clare’s decision have an impact on others who have fought mortality?
“The End of It” meanders to an admittedly startling ending, but it steadfastly refuses to truly engage with so many of its ideas. It’s a script that feels like so many beginnings, but too little approaching an end.
Finally, there’s the abrasive, repulsive “Roma Elastica,” director Bertrand Mandico’s hollow provocation about the relative worthlessness of the film industry. Early in the film, Marion Cotillard’s aging actress Eddie hears a story from her assistant Valentina (Noémie Merlant) about a time that she was at a fancy party and took such a massive shit that she couldn’t flush it, forcing her to walk around with it in her purse. While telling this story, Valentina is biting into a chocolate ice cream bar, often in close-up. That’s about as deep as “Roma Elastica” gets, another shock-fest with so little to say that it becomes a chore just to endure.
Eddie has a new job on a cheap sci-fi film in Rome, but she’s distracted by the cancer diagnosis just received at home. “Roma Elastica” rarely aims at emotion or realism. For example, the turd-in-a-purse story is told on a plane in which half the seats are occupied by marble statues. Why? You got me. And when Eddie and Valentina get to Rome, Mandico gets to unleash his inner Fellini, playing with satire that verges into early John Waters gross-out territory, although that makes it sound more fun than it actually is.
Franco Nero pops in for an admittedly great cameo, saying things about how aging stars can only stay young by making movies, and maybe that’s the point of it all? Mandico just wants to be silly, and he convinced two multi-talented actresses to play with him on a deliberately ridiculous project.
“Roma Elastica” is more a series of short films tied loosely together by the film production narrative. In one, Eddie guest stars on a talk show with cardboard cutouts in the audience and a man in ape mask who spouts vulgarities. In another, a face comes out of the back of her head as “Me and My Shadow” plays on the soundtrack.
Taken individually, these shorts might have been inspired standalone experiences. Assembled into a feature, they’re a chore.
- Cannes 2026: The Dreamed Adventure, Too Many Beasts, Women on Trial, Che Guevara: The Last Companions (May 23, 2026)
Valeska Grisebach’s “Western,” shown in Un Certain Regard in 2017, was one of the standouts of that year’s Cannes: an unconventional drama that revolved around the disconnect between German workers building a power plant in rural Bulgaria and the locals. The film put its own spin on the frontier genre—the German and Bulgarian characters don’t speak the same language, so clear communication isn’t a given—while also reflecting on the politics of the European Union.
It’s been nine long years, but Grisebach has been deservedly elevated to competition with “The Dreamed Adventure,” an extreme slow burn (167 minutes) that is also set in Bulgaria, in a border region. At first, the story seems to concern Said (Syuleyman Letifov), who at the outset is shown driving across the border into Turkey. He appears to be playing both sides of a local turf war between gangsters in the drug- and fuel-smuggling business.
Said has a chance run-in with Veska (Yana Radeva), an archeologist he’s worked with before. She’s digging at a site in the border village of Matochina, Bulgaria (one character suggests that archeologists are bigger thieves than the gangsters). Grisebach’s focus shifts to her, especially once Said ominously vanishes. Veska grew up in nearby Svilengrad, Bulgaria, and has a past with Iliya (Stoicho Kostadinov), the reigning gangland kingpin, who is under threat from a newcomer called the Raven.
Exactly where Veska’s allegiances lie becomes an open question for Iliya and for the town. It’s not a question that “The Dreamed Adventure” chooses to answer in a conventional dramatic arc. Rather, the film unfolds as a complex, ever-shifting reflection on memory, regional history, and trust in a lawless context. Veska is kind to Iliya’s young daughter and grows close with a former thief (Velko Frandev).
The seemingly aimless first hour does crucial work in terms of establishing the setting, which the protagonist is at various points forced to traverse on foot instead of by car. (Partly as a goodwill gesture, Iliya orders the potholes by Veska’s excavation site repaired.) “The Dreamed Adventure” is clearly one of the most unusual and considered works in competition, worthy of a second viewing with foreknowledge of where it ends up.
The festival is coming to a close, which means it’s time to write up a few titles that I didn’t fit in anywhere else.
The French filmmaker Bruno Dumont had one of the highlights of Directors’ Fortnight with “Red Rocks,” and Sarah Arnold’s first feature, “Too Many Beasts,” in the same program, feels like a companion piece; its dark but wacky humor bears a similarity to Dumont’s recent, tongue-in-cheek output. The plot concerns a possible serial killer of wild boars and a missing murderer, who may or may not be the same person. The crimes are investigated by a protocol-averse detective (Alexis Manenti) and his workplace therapist (Ella Rumpf, from “Raw”). It’s the sort of comedy that seemed to have French speakers laughing a bit more loudly than everyone else, so it’s possible that some of the humor was lost in translation.
Cannes always presents a handful of films aimed squarely at a French audience, and “Women on Trial” (in Special Screenings) plays very much like the Gallic equivalent of something like the Ruth Bader Ginsburg biopic “On the Basis of Sex.” Charlotte Gainsbourg stars as Gisèle Halimi, a Tunis-born French lawyer who in 1972 defended a 16-year-old rape victim’s right to have had an abortion, a procedure that was not legalized in France until 1975. The movie, directed by Lauriane Escaffre and Yvo Muller, does a polished, solid-enough job dramatizing a multi-pronged strategy for winning the case, which included attention to optics and the press.
The documentary “Che Guevara: The Last Companions” (in Special Screenings), directed by Christophe Dimitri Réveille, features interviews with associates of Guevara who continued fighting for his cause in Bolivia after he was executed in 1967. The former guerrillas share details from their physically demanding journey through wild areas of the country. One describes escaping soldiers who were tracking them, only to risk returning to retrieve a dog that had been tagging along with the group.
In general, the film comes across as more of a blotter-style account of events than a broader reflection informed by the distance of the years. We learn at the end that at least one of the men interviewed, Benigno (the nom de guerre of Dariel Alarcón Ramírez), became anti-Castro later on. (He also died in 2016—this documentary has been in the works for a long time.) “The Last Companions” is narrated by Vincent Lindon, the festival jury president in 2022, and his participation more than anything else may explain why this dry if historically interesting compendium of talking heads and animated sequences turned up in Cannes.
- Cannes 2026: Everytime, Ben’Imana, Titanic Ocean (May 23, 2026)
I have admittedly taken far more time writing this dispatch, my final out of Cannes, than I have with the others. Mostly because these three works from Un Certain Regard are so complex in their interest in grief, history, and dreams, that it took more consideration on my part to figure out a way to pierce their unique features and approaches without overly simplifying why and how they succeed. These films might be bolder than any picture that played in competition, and more indelible than many films that’ll play at other festivals this year.
Vivid, haunting, and poignant, Sandra Wollner’s experimental, psychologically adept film “Everytime” is a commitment to images of the indescribable hollowness that loss can instill in the living. The winner of the top prize in Un Certain Regard opens as a seemingly standard family drama. A teenage Jessie (Carla Hüttermann) walks with her mother Ella (Birgit Minichmayr) and young precocious sister Melli (Lotte Shirin Keiling) from their graffiti-stained train station toward their cozy but cramped home. The Austrian family experience expected ups and downs: Melli complains to her mother that Jessie is being mean to her; Jessie attempts to study with her boyfriend Lux (Tristán López) without her attention-seeking younger sister spoiling the mood. Eventually, Jessie and Lux attend a rave whose unbridled alcohol and copious drugs accompany them on their listless stroll through the woods, back into the city, and atop a rooftop to watch the day break.
If you’re game to see “Everytime” spoiler-free, then you should probably stop reading here—though what I’m about to write is written in the programme note for Cannes. While on this roof, a blissed out Jessie observes how the world looks uncommonly quiet. No one is bustling through the streets down below or coming to their windows. It appears the city is deserted. One can feel tragedy is about to strike when Wollner switches to a POV shot from Jessie’s perspective. Suddenly, we catch sight of a falling girl whose identity takes a beat for one to discern. It’s Jessie, plunging to her death.
Wollner will pull off this bending of perception and perspective several times throughout “Everytime,” using her curiosity to consider the wide range of weights grief can have on people. Because fast-forward one year and Lux is nearing his high school graduation. His return from vacation with a new girlfriend comes while Ella and Melli are still in deep mourning. For that reason, a guilt-ridden Lux decides to accompany Ella and Melli on vacation to Tenerife for a kind of send off to their shared sorrow.
Fascinatingly, Wollner and her cinematographer Gregory Oke don’t opt for intimacy with a touchy subject like suicide. Often, in fact, they’re capturing these characters in negative space from far away, like when one is swimming in a large body of water, to intimate how alone they feel. Her and Hannes Bruun’s cold editing also knowingly zaps the film of any potential warmth, as does Wollner’s terse dialogue. Minichmayr as Ella, in particular, delivers cutting barbs with the precision of a dagger piercing the heart. That dance between tone and aesthetic shows how grief sticks with you like the heavy foam atop a rushing wave.
Not content with solely giving a filmic voice to that feeling, in the last third of “Everytime” Wollner opts for a psychedelic vision composed from a kid’s point of view. The possibility of reincarnation and even the action of stopping the heavens are broached. Little of the inspired imagery, an ambiguous stream of childlike adventures, matches the grounded mood of the film that came before it. And yet, the lyrical mode Wollner activates is as haunting as any regret and as tangible as the dream that puts your unconscious fears in their logical place. And like a dream, “Everytime” is as unspeakable of a movie as they come.
How do you grant forgiveness when the crime is unsolved and the injury still hurts? That question looms over Marie Clémentine Dusabejambo’s morally and spiritually complex interrogation of the Rwandan genocide, “Ben’Imana,” the first film to play Cannes hailing from said country.
To be clear: “Ben’Imana” isn’t set in 1994 during the turmoil and bloodshed of the human rights tragedy that saw militant Hutus kill Tutsis and moderate Hutus and Twas. The film occurs in 2012. A community-based truth and reconciliation is taking place, whereby half the spectators are Hutu women and the other half are Tutsi. At the center are the judges and the two people: Karangwa (Aime Valens Tuyisenge) and Vénéranda (Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi). The former stands accused of murdering much of Vénéranda’s extended family and committing an unnamed crime against her. While Vénéranda says she’s willing to forgive, causing significant consternation from her sister Suzanne (Isabelle Kabano), whose children’s bodies still haven’t been recovered—it’s immediately clear that Vénéranda hasn’t totally processed her mental and emotional traumas.
When Vénéranda discovers her teenage daughter Tina (Kesia Kelly Nishimwe) is pregnant with a Hutu’s man’s daughter, the hurts she thought she buried rise back to the surface. She, ironically, finds her daughter’s “betrayal” to be unforgivable.
Dusabejambo and Delphine Agut’s intelligent script takes this potential inter-generational dynamic between mother and daughter, and Vénéranda’s potential grandchild, and heightens it by including Vénéranda’s own mute mother. Among these women characters, the film wonders aloud about the future of Rwanda. Can the people who lived through such atrocities truly guide the country forward or will it take new blood unburdened by the past’s baggage to lead the way?
Those historical complications are set in artistic relief against cinematographer Mostafa El Kashef’s evocative lighting, which leans on blue hues to grant Vénéranda’s anxieties a cool melancholy. Nyirinkindi’s internal performance as Vénéranda also pushes the film’s light poeticism forward, allowing for moving confrontations between mother and daughter, who each argue for emotional support, to flourish. There’s even a magical realism element to the film whose depictions of ghosts further demonstrates how close these past crimes are to the people still living now.
“Ben’Imana” makes a plea for its characters, and its country for that matter, to continue to reckon with its unspeakable yesteryears. How can a country forgive and heal when those accused of wrongdoing see such olive branches as transactional, at best? Dusabejambo can’t totally give us the answer to that question because she believes it’s up to future generations to provide the proverbial road map, but she does give us art capable of making sense of the storm that came before.
Akame is a silent teenager attending a Japanese boarding school for mermaid training where she tries in vain to hold back her crush for her diligent coach, Kotaro (Masahiro Higashide). At this academy, Akame undergoes mental and physical training to learn how to hold her breath underwater for extended periods of time, singing hypnotic songs, and swimming gracefully with an artificial fin. She performs these exercises for a chance to compete at the The Official Mermaid Championships, a real event, which, if she wins, will place her in the top aquarium in the world.
If this all sounds a bit silly, then writer/director Konstantina Kotzamani doesn’t take the bait. Her feature directorial debut, “Titanic Ocean” is a ruminative fantasy whose gentle rhythms can sometimes conceal its rich themes. See, Akame’s competitive school requires significant sacrifice. For one, the students must dispense with their given name for a mermaid moniker. Akame’s is Deep Sea; her best friend is Yokohama Blue (Kotone Hanase) and her primary rival is Eternal Sunset (Haruna Matsui). They must also dye their hair; Akame wears purple while other girls span the rainbow. Through Akame, Kotzamani asks a reflective question: If every component of you is changed to fit inside a gilded shell then what hope is there for you to find your voice?
“Titanic Ocean” moves at a glacial pace to find that answer. The potential response somewhat takes the form of Akame’s amorous feelings for Kotaro. Her desires also enliven the film’s magical elements, making one wonder if being a mermaid in this film is strictly a performance requiring constant training or a true state of being these characters must achieve? Kotzamani plays with that question, imbuing Akame with bewitching qualities that defies one’s beliefs.
Indeed, Kotzamani understands that a film doesn’t have to make logical sense, but it should make emotional sense. When Akame communicates with Hotaro telepathically, we don’t doubt it. When she dives deep into the bowels of the ocean, we don’t dismiss it as folly. We are enveloped under its mythical spell. The only arc that often breaks this swirling feeling of escapist desires and unrequitant love is a new deeply competitive student who arrives to be the best. Her role doesn’t work as well in the constellation of these characters mostly because her overt demands diverge heavily from Akame’s plaintive narration.
Like the hypnotic effect Akame’s supernatural singing has on Kotarko, “Titanic Ocean” similarly lulls one into a heady high. Its delirious imagination, therefore, makes the film difficult to love, and equally hard to shake.
- Cannes 2026: 'Fatherland' is a Mirror to Our Own Morally Bankrupt Era (May 22, 2026)
After a 7-year hiatus, Paweł Pawlikowski — one of the most prominent Polish filmmakers working today — returns to the Cannes Film Festival with a concise drama that elegantly caps off his unofficial black-and-white trilogy. He began this thematic journey with Ida (2013), a haunting exploration of a young Polish nun unearthing her family's Holocaust tragedy; then continued with Cold War (2018 - also at the Cannes Film Festival), charting a doomed romance across the fractured landscape of post-war Poland. Now, Pawlikowski steps back into the ashes of mid-century Europe with Fatherland, concluding a study of historical trauma with a wonderfully restrained, politically charged narrative. Set in 1949 against the backdrop of the newly partitioned Germany, the film follows Nobel laureate Thomas Mann (played by Hanns Zischler) as he is invited to receive the Goethe Prize: first in American-occupied Frankfurt, then in Soviet-controlled Weimar. Accompanying him as his personal assistant is his daughter, Erika (Sandra Hüller). Having fled the Nazi regime for the US in 1933, the trip marks the author's long-awaited return to his homeland after 16 years. // Continue Reading ›
- Scott Eastwood in WWII Battle of the Bulge 'Lucky Strike' Movie Trailer (May 22, 2026)
"80 years from now, everyone will know what happened in that battle. But will they understand it?" "I hope they do." Saban Films + Roadside have unveiled the official trailer for a WWII survival thriller action movie called Lucky Strike, arriving in theaters to watch in June this summer. The latest film by director Rod Lurie, of The Last Castle, Resurrecting the Champ, Straw Dogs, The Outpost, The Senior. An injured American soldier is trapped behind German lines during what will eventually be known as "The Battle of the Bulge" during WWII. The story centers on the soldier's attempts to evade an advancing Nazi Panzer army using his wits and a Motorola SCR-300 – a backpack-mounted radio that represented new technology at the end of the war. The film reunites director Rod Lurie, producer Marc Frydman, star Scott Eastwood following their acclaimed film The Outpost. Starring Eastwood, Colin Hanks, Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, and Taylor John Smith. Seems like a solid action thriller based on a true story from WWII. Have a look. // Continue Reading ›
- Official Trailer for Questlove's 'Earth, Wind & Fire' Music History Doc (May 22, 2026)
"They've embraced that music could have a higher purpose." HBO Max has unveiled the official trailer for the music history doc titled Earth, Wind & Fire, the next electrical creation from music doc mastermind Questlove. The full title is the much more cosmic Earth, Wind & Fire: To Be Celestial vs. That's the Weight of the World and this will be out to watch on HBO Max streaming in June in the summer. Get ready to get groovy. Acclaimed producer / director / musician Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson tells the story of the legendary nine-time Grammy Award-winning band Earth, Wind & Fire, tracing their genesis through late founding member Maurice White, chronicling their evolution, highs and lows, and relevance from the 1970s into the present day while exploring the deep philosophical and spiritual meaning behind their message and music. A loving celebration of a complex artist, the enduring legacy of an iconic sound that spans decades, and a joyful tribute to the band’s far-reaching cultural impact. Featuring band members Philip Bailey, Verdine White, and Ralph Johnson are joined by musicians, managers, authors, former band members, and family members, as well as notables the band has influenced, including President Barack Obama, Stevie Wonder, Lionel Richie, H.E.R., and Flea. This looks super trippy & extra fun - worth a watch. // Continue Reading ›
- First Look Teaser for 'La Bola Negra' - The Spanish Sensation of Cannes (May 22, 2026)
Get a look at one of the most talked about films of the festival this year. Movistar has revealed the first look teaser trailer for La Bola Negra, one of the biggest surprise hits from the 2026 Cannes Film Festival. The title La Bola Negra means The Black Ball in English, a reference to an actual event and story that the film is inspired by (and tells within the story in the film as well). The plot is set in 1932, 1937, and 2017, exploring the inter-connected lives of three gay men throughout Spanish history. It also explores what it means to be gay throughout different eras, focusing on "three existences" that are connected with themes of sexuality, desire, pain, and inheritance. Starring Guitarricadelafuente as Sebastián, Carlos González as Alberto, Miguel Bernardeau as Rafael, Milo Quifes, Lola Dueñas, plus appearances by Penélope Cruz and Glenn Close (who are both fabulous in the film). This just premiered yesterday at Cannes at the very end of the festival this year and became an instant favorite among many critics. Many are proclaiming it's an instant classic masterpiece. I also saw it and I was also swept away and dazzled by how epic and sensational and emotionally vibrant it is. A sweeping story spanning generations, going back into Spain's troubled past. // Continue Reading ›
- Cannes 2026: Maika Monroe's 'Victorian Psycho' is Wicked Horror Fun (May 22, 2026)
"I'm the most sane person I know." Well, time to find out if that's true! Because even though she may indeed be insane, pretty much everyone else is even more insane than she is. There's a new horror film premiering at the Cannes Film Festival this year and it's an underrated little genre creation from the UK (produced by Anton based in the UK). Victorian Psycho is a dark comedy ensemble feature written by Spanish writer Virginia Feito, based on her own novel of the same name, inspired by 19th-century mysteries and gothic literature. This Victorian Era dark horror comedy is kind of a historic twist on the classic serial killer thriller American Psycho, hence the title being the similar Victorian Psycho. Maika Monroe plays a governess who shows up at a manor to start working a new job but suddenly people start turning up dead – and she might have something to do with it. The twisted film is a very creative, clever horror feature that wraps up within a brisk 90 minutes as it takes us on a whimsical, bloody romp through the depraved corridors of Ensor House. // Continue Reading ›
