Ride: Live at Brixton Academy 

The film does not add anything to its own conversation or genre, and falls flat once it’s about to end and must declare some sort of conclusion.

What seems like such a simple story of survival is so much more than that—it’s a story of family, and of war, and of destruction. It’s painful to watch, but not in a bad way. It makes its audience reflect on their own actions, and in how they are complicit in the sufferings of others as the adults in this film are. Grave of the Fireflies does not hold back from being heartbreaking, and it shouldn’t. It tells a message that needs to be heard decades after the war, and a story that cannot be forgotten by history.

“Nobody 2” is the kind of sequel you expect to roll your eyes at—and then end up grinning through the whole thing. Bob Odenkirk proves once again that an ordinary-looking guy can be the most entertaining action hero alive, battling cartels with harpoons, deep fryers, and pure chaos. Toss in Sharon Stone as a delightfully over-the-top villain, and you’ve got 89 minutes of wild, joyful mayhem that reminds you why going to the movies is just plain fun.

The shattering of what we strive to maintain as reality. It is certainly truthful to state that most, if not all, of us have experienced moments of genuine mental stress. Regardless of what might be the cause, the sheer unsettledness, the pressure that weighs upon us is a tangible force that CAN seem insurmountable. However, more often than not, this is only a temporary , one we can come through and simply move on from.

A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night, though its feminism may be unintentional, cannot exist without its focus on women reclaiming power. The movie is feminist by definition, even if Amirpour didn’t write it with that in mind. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night is mesmerizing, poetic, and stunning, both for its portrayal of feminist ideas and its powerful story that is both horrific and subtly romantic at once.

Disguised as a cosmic highway horror, Alexander Ullom’s It Ends is a beautiful, albeit terrifying, metaphor for learning that if you want to survive adulthood and become your own person, you have to learn to let people go.