Wake Up, Dead Man (Everyone's Included Until Somebody Gets Stabbed)
When a powerful church leader is found dead, Benoit Blanc enters a tight-knit community where everyone has secrets, but not everyone is fully developed.

In a small town in Italy, Jack has found he can freeze time to escape from the world, but he can't freeze her.
When a powerful church leader is found dead, Benoit Blanc enters a tight-knit community where everyone has secrets, but not everyone is fully developed.
Strangers in a crowd, exchanging glances, looking away, continually managing to run into each other then part ways, end up at the same diner, find they've rented the exact same vehicles, and are then made to travel together to learn once more whether they can both find genuine adoration and companionship again. This really does, in so many words, sum up the foundational gist of of this new feature film from writer Seth Reiss ("The Menu") and director Kogonada ("The Acolyte", "After Yang"). Yet, it's all only the set-up for the REAL wonder of everything that happens before, during, and in the aftermath of a magical, meaningful journey.
A young woman finds herself trapped in a crossfire of awkwardness during a nightmarish dinner party with her boyfriend's dysfunctional family.
The Slumber Party Massacre wonderfully combines the suspense of its horror with its commentary on gender, creating a memorable slasher classic that began a horror trilogy entirely written and directed by women.
The Night Doctor achieves telling an original story in which the pace accelerates progressively while supported by dark aesthetics.
Him is visually stunning—all concrete cathedrals and bone-rattling impact shots that look like a nightmare highlight reel. Marlon Wayans is magnetic as this legendary quarterback who's basically selling salvation with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. But the story keeps running in circles: more tests, more cryptic pep talks, more ritualistic drills. The sports-as-religion metaphor beats you over the head when subtlety would've been more effective. The middle drags, and that finale chooses spectacle over substance. It's undeniably stylish, but left me cold. Also worth noting: despite the Monkeypaw connection, this isn't actually a Jordan Peele film—he didn't write or direct.