A Man Called Otto really wants you to cry. And somehow, even with my tender heart, I stayed dry eyed. Tom Hanks delivers, but Mariana Treviño is the true standout. The themes are meaningful, but the story plays out exactly as expected.

Stationed at Home is a quiet, poetic Christmas Eve story that trades holiday cheer for something more honest and human.

Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest isn’t top-tier Spike, but it’s thoughtful, entertaining and packed with questions about legacy, culture and staying relevant.

Memories of Murder blends noir, social critique and dark humor in a way that continues to ripple through modern cinema.

There are movies that ask for your attention. Eddington grabs it—and doesn’t let go.

The Ballad of Wallis Island quietly transforms into a moving story about memory, music and the complicated kindness of strangers.

Good Will Hunting is not my favorite ‘90s movie, but a time capsule from an era when a character drama could still become a cultural moment.

Materialists isn’t here to sweep you off your feet. It wants to sit with you, make eye contact and ask if love is a feeling—or just smart financial planning.

I’ll always be biased when it comes to Forrest Gump. It’s more than just a movie to me—it’s comfort, nostalgia and a masterclass in American storytelling.

This isn’t Succession 2.0, and that’s a good thing. Armstrong may be finding his footing in the film world, but Mountainhead proves he's willing to take risks.

Oklahoma-made and emotionally raw, Close Enough to Burn hits all the right notes.

There’s no denying The Brutalist is a big swing. Clocking in at nearly four hours, it’s a film that practically dares you to look away—but I couldn’t.

500 Fireflies tells one of my favorite kinds of stories—the kind that’s quiet on the surface but packed with rich character work and emotional resonance.

If I had caught The Nickel Boys in 2024, it would’ve topped my best-of-the-year list. Watching it now, it’s clear this is the film more people need to be talking about.

Jason Reitman’s Saturday Night isn’t just a nostalgia trip; it’s a chaotic, behind-the-scenes sprint through the hours leading up to that very first live show that changed comedy—and late-night TV—forever.

If Harold and Maude wandered into a contemporary synagogue and bumped into a Jewish grief-comedy, you’d land somewhere near Between the Temples.

Anora is a film that thrives not so much on its plot but on its ability to sidestep clichés. The "sex worker with a heart of gold" trope has been explored before, but it's been a while since a newcomer like Mikey Madison has brought so much life to a role with such an unapologetic and authentic performance.

Emilia Pérez has an undeniably intriguing premise but manages to fumble nearly everything that could have made it great.

Conclave is my kind of movie: performance-driven, steeped in dialogue and cloaked in political and spiritual intrigue.

It Ends with Us was exactly what I thought it would be—but just a little better. Think: elevated melodrama with a glossy sheen