Suffering Man's Charity (2007)

When they’re young, they’re America’s darlings but, when they become teens and adolescents, they’re instantly perceived as harbingers of immorality. They’re Lindsay Lohan, Macaulay Culkin, Justin Bieber, and Britney Spears. But, despite what many media outlets, politicians, and the general public may think, they are human beings above anything else. The new Billie Eilish documentary, Billie Eilish: The World’s A Little Blurry, proves this — showing the trials, tribulations, and humanity when growing up with all the world’s eyes on you.

Hoppers is a fun ride with a deep message underneath. In true Pixar fashion, Hoppers explores the complexity of emotions and learning to be still in a world that demands fast progress. Through the main character Mabel, we are reminded what it is like to let ourselves feel big emotions. But also how not to be controlled by them. 

Darren Aronofsky’s Caught Stealing is a gritty, darkly funny thrill ride through 1998 New York, with Austin Butler delivering a raw, magnetic turn as Hank Thompson—a washed-up ex-ballplayer turned bartender whose life implodes after cat-sitting for his punk neighbor drags him into a violent underworld of gangsters, crooked cops, and chaos. Brutal yet unexpectedly hilarious, the film blends noir grit with midnight-movie absurdity, proving Aronofsky can reinvent himself while Butler cements his status as a true movie star.

'The Worst Person In The World' follows a part of life I don't see often portrayed on-screen: extended adolescence.

The gentle, emotional nuances of Evan’s coming-of-age story would have been so beneficial to have incorporated into the life of a POC character. Showing a Black, Asian or Latino young man that is afforded the space to be vulnerable, flawed and sensitive while driving a compelling and widely-loved narrative would have been a game changer.

Naked Gun: The New Police Squad Team delivers exactly what fans want: relentless, expertly crafted chaos that honors the original while cranking everything up to eleven. The gags fire at machine-gun pace—sight jokes layered with wordplay and physical comedy so outrageous it borders on art. It's gleefully self-aware without being cynical, silly without being stupid, and maintains that perfect ZAZ-style balance of treating absolute absurdity with complete seriousness. The film knows exactly what it is: a comedy missile designed for maximum laughs, and it hits its target with surgical precision. Pure, unhinged entertainment that proves spoof comedy still has plenty of life left in it.