Directors: Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillett Writers: Guy Busick, R. Christopher Murphy, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin Stars: Samara Weaving, Kathryn Newton, Elijah Wood
Synopsis: After surviving one deadly game, Grace and her sister Faith must now outrun four rival families competing for a powerful throne – winner takes all.
It is baffling why Ready or Not 2: Here I Come took almost seven years to find its way into theaters. The original was an oh-so-bloody, completely refreshing, often hilarious, and brutal instant horror classic. It is one of the most ruthlessly entertaining thrillers in years and sparked a horror-comedy revival over the past decade. The movie slaps, slays, or downright f*cks, or whatever the kids are saying nowadays, in a clear nod to a younger demographic.
While watching Ready or Not 2: Here I Come, the blood-splatter fest is still there, the demonic supporting characters, empowered by seemingly unlimited power, still reign supreme, and the returning star doubles down on scream-queen, hilariously macabre goodness. Yet, you begin to realize the film is not as clever, the characters, even the lead, are still paper-thin, and the script takes the easy way out rather than fighting its way out of the corner it places itself in.
In other words, the highly anticipated follow-up is just okay, or a “six-seven,” being the proper youth movement translation.
The sequel continues to follow Grace (Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri’s Samara Weaving), the last survivor of the wedding-day massacre. The police find her sitting on the stairs of the Le Domas manor, smoking a cigarette, wearing her once-pristine wedding dress, soaked in her own and her family members’ blood. She later wakes up in the hospital, being interrogated by a detective who blames her for the deaths.
Mrs. Le Domas then gets a surprise visit from her estranged sister, Faith (Freaky’s Kathryn Newton), whom Grace has not seen in years and who was obviously not invited to the wedding. They argue, with Faith showing no concern for Grace’s injuries or mental health, allowing an endless amount of exposition to be vomited into a tiny scene. Don’t worry, though, if you miss it, it happens again and again, even during and between psychopaths chasing them.
Faith is Grace’s emergency contact, which leaves me wondering why her fiancé from the day before was not. Either way, as she walks with her sister down the hospital hallways in handcuffs, a cocaine-fueled adult entertainment producer (The Naked Gun’s Kevin Durand) throws a Bowie knife from about fifty yards into a cop’s neck. One might ask, if he can do that from that distance, why not just throw it into Grace’s heart, Bon Jovi style, but I digress.
That brings us to a nice supporting cast, as Elijah Wood (The Lord of the Rings) appears, who plays the evil force Le Bail’s “Lawyer,” who saves the girls for them to play their little game. Since Grace survived her wedding night, the head seat at the table, which controls everything around the world, is up for grabs between the wealthiest families on earth. Whoever kills Grace by dawn will find themselves with unlimited power. If they don’t, they lose everything.
Oh, and Faith is handcuffed to Grace for good measure. This is where the film feels forced and odd, falling into clichés the original would never touch. While Newton’s character is used as a storytelling tool to suggest that Grace would never give up after such a nightmarish ordeal, the film becomes uneven. Literally, in between murderous kills, chasing them with machetes and sniper rifles, they find time to calmly talk about their history in endless exposition.
None of this warrants the time. Even the chase scenes lack verve, as the film shifts from the original’s house of horrors to a lush, open-field golf course, sacrificing suspense and tone. Everyone suddenly becomes a bad shot after earlier miraculous ones. I began to howl, not in a good way, as Sarah Michelle Gellar and Shawn Hatosy, playing demented twins chasing the sisters on a golf cart, can hit a drone from a mile away with a revolutionary handheld musket, but then, in striking distance, fire a straight shot that hits a tree hundreds of yards to the right.
All of this is surprising, since the film is once again helmed by the original directors, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, and written by the original scribes, Guy Busick and R. Christopher Murphy. The film has an incredibly hard time maintaining suspense and tension because it simply does not know how to sustain escalation. The creative team never goes beyond the original premise, instead delivering a watered-down version.
You can never call Ready or Not 2: Here I Come boring, as the actors can be deliciously entertaining in an over-the-top way. In particular, The Pitt’s Hatosy, truly nasty here, if not somewhat comically evil. The third act does make up some initial ground the first hour lost by filling half the time with Wood’s character, essentially, Exposition, Esquire, walking briefcase of redundant comprehension.
Only then will you truly begin to see a rich history and backstory of the organization.
However, by then it is too late, and you can only hope a third chapter will bring back a glimpse of the original’s brilliance. See it if you love the original, but go in with low expectations. Unfortunately, the sequel is a forgettable extension of the original, which is hardly worth your time or money.
You can watch Ready or Not 2: Here I Come only in theaters starting March 20th!
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan is joined by Christina Jeurling Birro to discuss the 98th Academy Awards and everything that this year’s Oscars had to offer! It was quite an extraordinary awards season that was capped off with a pretty good ceremony (despite a few bumps) and some great winners.
Check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
Ready or Not 2: Here I Come offers even more blood and a spiraling cast. Is the Samara Weaving thriller a welcome return or an unnecessary retread? Shadan Larki reviews one of SXSW 2026’s marquee titles, in theaters Friday, March 20.
Directors:Daniel Roher, Charlie Tyrell Stars: Daniel Roher, Sam Altman, Daniela Amodei, Dario Amodeil
Synopsis:Hoping to figure out what’s happening with artificial intelligence, a father-to-be embarks on an eye-opening journey to learn more about the most powerful technology humanity has ever created — and what’s at stake if we get it wrong.
The AI Doc: Or How I Became an Apocaloptimist begins in a relatable mood. And the mood is an overwhelming sense of anxiety. There are too many uncertainties about the future. What will become of global warming? What is the future of politics? Is the movie industry dying? For filmmaker Daniel Roher, it’s the unforeseeable future of AI. Most of us would probably vent our fears on social media or TikTok. Instead, the filmmaker who brought us Navalny channels his dread into a 103-minute breakdown of the pros and cons of the fast-evolving technology. The documentary could be the most balanced discussion of the state of Artificial Intelligence; however, if one is already familiar with AI, it may feel like a rehash of familiar information.
The documentary, directed by Daniel Roher and Charlie Tyrell, centers on Roher, who is expecting a child with his wife, Caroline, soon. With a child on the way, he is concerned about the dangers of AI and how it will impact his kid’s life. Taking action, Roher decides to sit down and interview both sides of the conversation: the doomsdayers and the optimists. The pessimistic side feeds his anxiety in an unhealthy way. Roher wants to find a beacon of hope, but most of the conversation revolves around statements such as “children being born may not make it to high school.” The interviews consist of individuals such as Tristan Harris, an activist for technological ethics, and Karen Hao of The Atlantic. The cynics’ discussions range from the environmental impact of AI to the looming fear of an AGI breakthrough that would throw the human race into the same category as ants.
On the optimist side of the spectrum, the interviews explore the potential of a better world enabled by AI. For example, there are mentions of predicting weather, cancer cells, and other common issues. There is a brief mention of AI’s technical potential to address cognitive disabilities by bridging cerebral gaps. The optimists also suggest that the future of education improves if every child has an affordable tutor on standby.
The third section of Roher’s interviews is the most direct in confrontation. He invites the actual CEOs of the AI companies to clear the air. Unsurprisingly, Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk are noticeably absent. However, what is surprising is that OpenAI’s CEO, Sam Altman, makes the effort to address AI panic. As a conversationalist, Altman is the most robotic in his response. Altman pauses bizarrely after every question, as if he were a language model considering how to respond to a prompt. As with the pros and cons portion of the documentary, unless one has little awareness of the CEOs, there is not much new in the discussions. Altman speaks in broad stakeholder terms and never ventures into authentic thought about his business model. The only genuine response comes after Roher asks for a guarantee that nothing terrible will happen, to which Altman acknowledges he cannot provide one.
For a documentary with loads of bleak implications, the aesthetic of The AI Doc: Or How I Became An Apocaloptimist is quirky, upbeat, and artsy. In between sections, the documentary uses stop-motion animation to depict conversations between Roher and his wife, Caroline. The animation features facial drawings of the couple as they discuss the latest developments in the documentary. The choice highlights Roher’s artistic background. For instance, in one section of the documentary, he offers a portrait of the interviewee.
The one detail no one will argue is the scope of the interviews. The Canadian filmmakers invite every possible angle to share their perspective. Roher and Tyrell even present a centrist view of AI, discussing how, in some respects, the existence of AI is good for humanity yet potentially dangerous. The only flaw in their documentary is the same flaw in every current documentary about AI. There’s not enough information to form a satisfying conclusion. The AI Doc needed a few more years to allow the technology to reveal itself more. Right now, we are in a similar phase as the mid ’60s were with cigarettes. We can sense that something might be wrong here, but there’s not enough data to draw a conclusion. The documentary itself seems aware of this problem because there’s nothing more to say at this point. Roher’s wife even challenges him to find a better ending than the one initially planned.
Still, The AI Doc: Or How I Became An Apocaloptimist is the most well-rounded breakdown of the status quo of AI. It’s the type of documentary vital for someone who needs a streamlined explainer of the concerns and hopes around artificial intelligence. In the theater, there were genuine gasps during discussions of stories that made headlines. One example is the Anthropic study that gave an AI a workplace simulation, leading the model to attempt blackmail against fake employees. The AI was made to believe two details: that it was facing termination and that two employees were having an affair. The theater reacted with genuine shock when it was revealed that the AI had blackmailed a fake user to avoid deletion. In that respect, the documentary could serve a valuable purpose by informing the public who are not paying attention.
Director:Finn Taylor Writer:Finn Taylor Stars: Stephen Lang, Elsie Fisher, Luke David Blumm
Synopsis:A Holocaust survivor harboring a 60-year secret forms a transformative friendship with a troubled teen. Their connection helps both find healing as Herbert finally shares his past with Abby.
Did you watch Marty Supreme or If I Had Legs I’d Kick You but you wanted an infusion of plot mechanisms from The Pitt? Well, you’re in luck with Petra Volpe’s Late Shift. Featuring nerve-wracking energy and a dynamite lead performance from Leonie Benesch, this film is the latest in the long history of uncomfortable film watches.
There is something to be said for that buzz of energy from anxious film watches. You never feel comfortable, too much is happening at once, and you just know things aren’t going to work out in the end. It’s like watching a motorcycle do dangerous tricks on the highway. You want to see the tricks, but you also don’t want to see the crash. And after the inevitable crash, you can’t imagine what the consequences will be. It’s a very effective direction for film.
Plot-wise, it’s exactly what it looks like. A dedicated nurse, Floria (Benesch), arrives for her late shift at a Swiss hospital. The floor is understaffed and overstuffed. Doctors are too busy to talk with patients, and nurses are too busy to properly spend the amount of time necessary to do their work. Floria must deal with the hectic pace, an elderly man awaiting test results, patients and families facing sobering realities, and a private insurance patient who wants to take up too much time and resources.
Volpe employs this really cool trick where the audience is specifically on the lookout for mistakes. Floria is obviously competent and experienced, but there is also zero chance she can get through this shift scot-free. Each time she goes to a medicine lockup, mixes a syringe, or performs the duties she has performed dozens of times, you are on the edge of your seat just waiting for the screw-up. What are the consequences? How will she get out of it? This is all going through your head before things go wrong. There’s a masterful unspoken tension just from the pace and the relentlessness of the night.
It helps that the filmmakers don’t try to overdo things. The pressures put in Floria’s way are the expected, normal pressures of working in an understaffed medical field. She is not dealing with some crazy medical outbreak or unexpected emergency. She has to feed a dementia patient, administer pain meds, track down a surgeon, appease worried family members, and find time to make a peppermint tea. This has nothing to do with herself. As much as the film goes to great lengths to show Floria’s activities, the stress that puts on her is deeply felt, though she never lets it show too much.
Benesch manages to combine her characterization into moments of monumental competence, and a breath short of complete and utter breakdown. That manifests itself into exasperation and sorrow, but never surrender. Even in a moment of impulse, she nearly immediately snaps back to reality and attempts to fix her lapse. You are begging Floria to physically assault some of the people she deals with, but she also recognizes this is just one day of many. Benesch wears the experience, competence, and resolve like a perfect set of scrubs. It’s a towering performance without much flash.
Volpe includes a few touches of magical realism, but it can be explained away as exhaustion or imagination. You could point to some convenient plot resolutions, but sometimes a crazy situation can be tidied up that quickly. The film does have an overarching message: nurses are overworked. And this is not just an American problem, as this is obviously a film made outside of the States. The end credits feature some sobering statistics about nursing shortage and burnout rates. It might be a bit on the nose, but it doesn’t make it any less potent.
Late Shift may be an uncomfortable watch, but Leonie Benesch’s immense performance is worth the experience. Sit back, take in the scenery, and thank God you aren’t a nurse. If you are a nurse, may God bless you.
On this episode, On this episode, Brendan gives us his thoughts on the 2026 Oscars and we discuss the first trailer for Dune: Part 2! And after teasing it for some time on the Main Show, we decided now was a great time to do a full retrospective on Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End!
Okay…hear me out. I feel like this ComMANNdment is overly related to a biblical reference and Jesus turning water into wine. That was not my intention at the outset, but when the term ComMANNdment came to me, I couldn’t resist putting this in.
Water is a powerful element that can by symbolized in many ways. Water can be seen as serene or peaceful – something to look at while you ponder all of life’s great questions. Water can be cleansing – both in a removal of grime but also as a mental way of shedding the day. But water can also be destructive when too much is introduced, and if you have seen enough movies then you know that when it starts to rain something bad is about happen. Remember: when it rains, it pours.
Even in a film like Thief, significant moments of the film revolve around water. The movie even STARTS in rain! (And what a wonderful top to bottom pan shot we get of the rain falling in the alleyway, prominently putting nighttime Chicago on display.) This rain, this version of water foreshadows the turbulent nature of Frank’s life and everything that will happen going forward. But Mann flips it on us: instead, our next glimpse of water comes after the heist has successfully been completed and Frank shares a Danish with a fisherman as the two look out over the glory of Lake Michigan.
Thief alone quickly shows the extremities of the use of water in relation to the character of Barry. After the successful completion of the burn job in L.A., Frank’s newly formed family spends some relaxation time with Barry and his girlfriend in San Diego. Barry seems to be the only one swimming the water and enjoying the full benefits of the beach. It is only minutes of screen time later that Barry is gunned down in Frank’s car lot and ultimately dumped into a vat of water for his body to be disposed of (water for Barry is literally both a moment of peace and a means of obliterating his physical being).
As The Keep begins to roll credits, we hear the brewing of a thunder storm. The jeeps and tanks of the Russian soldiers are driving through rain – leading us to believe that the events we are about to witness will be tumultuous and everchanging. And outside of falling from the sky, water acts a barrier that needs to be crossed: Glaeken returning to the keep so that he can get Molasar back into his cavernous prison.
Manhunter sparks the third consecutive film of Michael Mann to feature water prominently in its opening moments, but unlike Thief and The Keep which utilize H20 as rain, Manhunter sets the Graham home on the Miami beach. Here the water takes on multiple meanings. Will, being a former investigator and thoroughly detailed individual, would know that putting your back to water limits where an attack can come from. The water also acts as a means of cleansing and healing as Will attempts to move on from the history with Lecktor. Having the water in the background of the sensually blue marital scene between Will and Molly lets us know that the everchanging tides are going to shift the sands of their familial existence (at least for the time being). The last example I’ll use for Manhunter revolves around Francis and Reba: the night after they have intercourse, Dolarhyde finds Reba outside on the dock (again, water in the background). For these two, their own sands of normalcy are shifting: Reba believes she may be moving towards a real relationship and Francis could be struggling with his changing into the Red Dragon.
Given circumstances of location make water a prevalent and prolific tool of Mann’s in The Last of the Mohicans. Water will not be more prominently used as a path of transportation until Miami Vice and considering the nature of our setting is used the most organically in a Mann film. The waterfall scene alone merits worthy conversation and can be attributed to other ComMANNdments: documentary feel, camera in interesting positions, and location as character. The waterfall itself acts as a shield of sorts, but also in a transitionary way. Rushing water and dark caves make it near impossible to spot our escapees and thus protects them from Magua and the hunting Huron tribe, but the waterfall quickly becomes a portal for our Mohicans to avoid capture. I also think it’s important to point out that in the opening moments of the film (and periodically throughout) that we see mist hanging in the air. Water can be found generally in its three basic forms: solid as ice, liquid as water, and as gas vapors. Mist is a transitional phase between liquid and gas and this period of change for the water is indicative of where our characters are in history: Native people are on the verge of being permanently displaced as colonial settlers break off from England to start a country of their own.
The water ComMANNdment is a bit tricky when it comes to Heat, but bear with me as I give you my examples from this movie. Our first example is an obvious one and something that has been repeated in many Mann films: one of our contemplative male leads looking at the sea. Perhaps it is because so much is unknown about the deep sea or perhaps it is because the waves crashing into the sand erases what was there and allows for something new to be created, but for whatever reason people need moments to look out at the water. Neil has a few of these moments, but prominently early in the movie after the bearer bonds holdup and letting Waingro escape he needs this time to recollect on recent events before moving onto the next job. The next showing of water is really only set to show us where we are located: the camera cranes down on a motel pool as Vincent pulls up to the crime scene with the murdered sex worker (Waingro’s evil on full display here). This water reference may seem like a stretch if not for the next few examples we have because what seeing the pool does is now alert us to something bad that we are about to see. My last three scenes all have water preceding a momentous event or decision. As the bank heist concludes, Cherrito (Tom Sizemore) is running through the courtyard of multiple high rises and trips as he runs through a fountain. His next decision is to grab a little girl and to use her as a shield and/or hostage. This ultimately proves futile as Vincent takes him out with a single shot, but the question of could Cherrito have gotten away if he hadn’t slipped is interesting. My penultimate examples involves Neil and Eady. Neil arrives at Eady’s place as she is watching the news – she is trying to figure out what is going on and who Neil truly is. At one point, Neil utters the phrase, “When it rains, you get wet.,” alluding to water. Eady hears this and immediately tries to take off and get free of Neil. This is also a futile attempt as Neil catches up with her and convinces her to stay. Finally, and most overtly, the last moment of water is the most painful to watch: Lauren’s suicide attempt. Water on the hotel room carpet alerts Vincent to the issue, and obviously Lauren is unconscious in the overflowing bathtub. Overall, water’s relationship to death in Heat is hard to be ignored once you have noticed the signs.
During The Insider, water shows up during key moments of Wigand’s decision-making. When Bergman and Wigand connect outside of Jeffrey’s house (after the man in the suit stalks Wigand at the driving range), it is pouring rain outside as the two men argue. Lowell even needs to use a newspaper (a representation of his profession and professionalism) to shield himself from the downpour. After Jeffrey has Lowell get into his car, we see the rain drops drip down the windshield as the two men speak near an abandoned building by the river. This moment feels like it is washing away any animosity these two may have and gives them a clean slate with which to work with. It reinforces the idea that Jeffrey has DECIDED to trust Lowell and move forward with their “60 Minutes” discussion. The other notable sighting of water in this film occurs right before Wigand says “Fuck it – let’s go to court.” Prior to this, the movie almost comes to a standstill as Lowell, police, attorneys, and even us as the audience waits for Jeffrey to ponder how he navigates forward with his deposition in Mississippi. The long, contemplative looks at the vast gulf waters could represent a myriad of thoughts all converging at once in his head that ultimately lead him to question his integrity. The last impactful moment of water arrives during Jeffrey’s hotel hallucination with his kids as Lowell calls from a vacation home. The cell service compels Lowell to walk into the water so that he can complete his conversation with Jeffrey – and this is also where another decision gets made, but not overtly. The implications of Jeffrey committing suicide are hard to ignore at this moment. The fact that Lowell goes into the water, a moment of humility and vulnerability, to make sure that he can talk Jeffrey off the metaphorical ledge shows a commitment that Jeffrey did not think he still had. The cleansing and healing nature of water is almost transferred through the phone from Lowell to Jeffrey and the decision to stay alive and keep on maintaining the integrity of the situation leads us to Jeffrey’s ultimate vindication.
Water’s cleansing power is on full display (and prominently so) at the conclusion of Ali. The film itself is bookmarked by these key fights that from Ali’s life: starting with Clay’s first championship against Joe Lewis and ending with the Rumble in the Jungle victory over George Foreman. The journey of the film shows us the highs and lows of Ali’s career, but we understand that Ali is a complicated man in need of new direction and focus. While the film cannot fully delve into every facet of Ali’s life, the story presented shows us that Ali is in need of a fresh start. At the conclusion of the Foreman/Ali fight, Ali climbs the turnbuckle and celebrates in front of the crowd that was supporting him while in Kinshasa. And then, as if a higher power was personally invested in the outcome of this fight, thunder booms and lightning illuminates the sky. A downpour of biblical proportions rains down and is symbolic of a (hopefully) brighter and cleaner future for Muhammad Ali. Any past sins, indiscretions, or moments of pride can be forgiven. Obviously, Ali is a real person and would face further complications, but the storytelling device of a man’s sins being washed clean is very apparent at the finish of Ali.
As far as I could tell, water only predominantly shows up once throughout the entirety of Collateral, but its presence leads us down a rabbit hole of interesting “what-ifs.” The pivotal moment occurs after Vincent completes his first hit and the body slams into Max’s cab. In a futile effort to remove evidence, Max uses a bottle of water to clean off the shattered hood of his car. Right away this reminds us of the cleansing nature of water, but unlike in Ali when a character is spiritually cleansed Max can only physically clean so much. This moment leads to an incredible image we see later when Fanning comes around looking for his CI: we get a top down POV shot of the ground beneath the apartment. In this shot we see glass that we cannot separate from the apartment window or the windshield, but we also see that the ground is noticeably wet in certain places and bone dry in others. This leads Fanning to the conclusion that something nefarious is going on. This is an interesting and visually compelling storytelling device because with just the broken glass Fanning could have more easily dismissed the event (granted it still would look weird to have all this broken glass and no body). The addition of water remnants being a missing puzzle piece in Fanning’s case is what starts the whole investigation of what happened to his CI and ultimately brings him to Max and Vincent, with only a terrible conclusion in Fanning’s future.
This far into writing I have yet to mention the term “director’s cut.” Maybe Michael Mann isn’t as notorious for futzing with finished products like a Ridley Scott or Francis Ford Coppola, but he nonetheless does have alternate versions of his films – Miami Vice being one of them. In the theatrical release, the film opens in a club as Sonny, Rico, and crew are in the middle of a sting operation. The director’s cut shows an extended speedboat sequence that both sets up the scene at the club and how well our two leads can navigate the water – and this leads into our 6th ComMANNdment. Water is all around as we are primarily set on islands or beaches. We cannot go to a new location with seeing how much water surrounds our characters. Notably, Colin Farrell and Gong Li have to navigate the sea for their courtship to begin (and it is also on the water that their relationship comes to an end). Water here signifies both its power of growth and destruction: water can create life and water can take it away. As an added bonus, the weather on the day the courtship begins is sunny with a promise of heat and connection – when they part, it is cloudy and we know that doom is the inevitable conclusion. Quite frankly, you cannot ignore the water in Miami Vice – it is everywhere and used literally and metaphorically.
While not as monumentally important here as it was in Miami Vice, water does still make its way into Public Enemies during a few moments that lead to big, life altering choices. Before launching into these three scenes, I want to briefly acknowledge the Otis Taylor song “Ten Million Slaves” that plays throughout portions of the movie. While the song itself may not have any literal place in the world of Public Enemies, the bluegrass sound puts us firmly in the milieu of the Midwest and mentions water in its first (and repeated) lines “Rain and fire crossed the ocean.” Onto the scenes, the first of which has water used in a method of rejuvenation – the way water may spring a dying plant back to life. When Dillinger is arrested in Phoenix and sent back to Indiana, he arrives by plane and lands into a sea of reporters and flashbulbs. Rain is pouring down: at first, we could see this as water being used as a symbol for washing all of Dillinger’s hope and dreams away, but as he is driven to the prison, he sees adoring fans yelling for him. This energy leads into the next scene where he smiles and charms his way into the hearts of the reporters on hand. The second key scene with water involves Dillinger as he reunites with Billie. They seemingly have pulled off the road and have taken respite on a sandy beach near one of the Great Lakes. We learn that it is around 4 a.m. and our two lovebirds are making plans for their future. We can (maybe) hear the distant sound of waves, but we cannot see the water. Our lack of perception regarding water here is just like the lack of perception Dillinger and Billie are showing in this moment: we cannot see the water like they cannot see their future; both are dark and unknown. And of course, the last scene connected with water is when Anna is selling out Dillinger to Purvis: the automobile is parked by the waterfront. In this last moment of water’s significance in Public Enemies, it represents a path forward…just not for Dillinger and Billie.
Water’s power is put on full display in a plot pivotal moment in Blackhat. Simply put, a nuclear plant explodes when its cooling system is upended by Sadak. During the moment of crisis, we see the turbines speed up, breakdown, and water temperatures rise – leading to carnage. What was once in place to help keep the site safe was utilized in its downfall. In the aftermath, Hathaway and crew arrive on site and see the devastation that has ensued. During this visit, we get a moment of Jessup (Holt McCallany) witnessing the horror firsthand – it is this moment that he refers to later as to why he lets Hathaway hack into the NSA. Furthermore, Hathaway eventually puts it all together when he and Lien arrive in Malaysia and realize that water’s power would be used again: this time, flooding the riverbed to drive up tin futures. When you add all these pivotal moments together and include all the coastal cities & countries visited in the film, you get what may very well be the most powerful and significant use of water in a Mann film to date.
Rain’s significance comes back into play here as it pertains to Ferrari in two different scenes. The first I’ll mention is not monumental, but creates an interesting “butterfly effect” worth exploring. At the start of the Mille Miglia, rain is coming down and is clearly having an impact on the driver’s vision. It is noticeable that De Portago is driving slower than normal. With all of the water on the road and the aggressiveness of De Portago’s driving that ultimately runs Behra into the grass, could this have led to his tires being more worn down and thus more susceptible to tearing? We can only speculate. However, let’s turn to a key scene that happens earlier in the film – also during a rain storm. King Hussein of Saudi Arabia has arrived at the Ferrari plant for his custom car, but over the course of the next few minutes we learn some key pieces of information. Most importantly, we learn that the company is going broke (“You spend more than you make.”) It is suggested to Enzo that Ferrari take on a partner – an idea that he absolutely despises as he boldly declares “I must have total control.” As a result of this conversation, it becomes clear that the key objective is to win the Mille Miglia and boost interest in Ferrari so more consumer cars will be produced and sold. It is also in this scene that De Portago is officially hired by Enzo – a decision that, again, ultimately leads to De Portago untimely and accidental death.
Director: Adam Sherman Writer:Adam Sherman Stars: Mena Suvari, Dichen Lachman, Sarah Dumont
Synopsis: A coven of vampires is hunting on dating apps where they meet vampire hunters and schedule dates. The nights that unfold are action-packed modern horror madness.
What makes vampire films engaging is that each director who is up to the task of bringing a new undead story into the world has their own take. From the style of fangs, their immortal powers, and their in-universe rules. Over the last several years, there’s been a rise in movies about vampires, from 2025’s Nosferatu and even this year’s Dracula: A Love Tale, but none are as outrageously unique as Vampires of the Velvet Lounge. And for better or worse, the low-budget horror film is entertaining, no matter how cringeworthy it can be —Just think of it as if Van Helsing and Sin City had a love child.
Vampires of the Velvet Lounge brings Elizabeth Báthory to life, famously known for bathing in the blood of her victims in the late 1500s to early 1600s. Yes, she was a real person, one who died in imprisonment, but writer and director Adam Sherman rewrites her history, placing her in the modern day as a sultry vampire who, at this point, is hundreds of years old. She simply goes by Elizabeth (Mena Suvari). She spends her nights partying in her vampire lair that doubles as a bar open to the public, while she and Joan (India Eisley), her fellow vampire, lure both men and women into their grasp through online dating.
Elizabeth opens the film meeting up with Eric (Timothy V. Murphy), an older man she had been flirting with online. He is belly up to the bar drinking absinthe. Unbeknownst to him, it also makes him more susceptible to vampire illusions and lowers his senses, making those who consume it see vampires as green fairies. When Eric begins to get frustrated that Elizabeth is standing him up, he leaves. Stumbling down the street outside of the bar, Eric sees a green fairy before him who sinks their fangs into him, drinking deeply from his neck. Even with some shoddy VFX work showing how fast this film’s vampires are, and the green haze that Elizabeth appears as to Eric, it’s enough to keep you wondering what happens next.
It’s not long before Elizabeth and her handful of other centuries-old vampires get on the radar of hunters: detective Cora (Dichen Lachman) and her team of fellow vampire slayers. Cora narrates her inner thoughts to us during her scenes like a homage to film noir, but it’s rather distracting because Lachman doubles down on the vocal fry compared to her spoken dialogue with other characters. But it adds to the silliness of it all, and that’s where most of Vampires of the Velvet Lounge comes from—not taking the film seriously. Elizabeth and Cora cross paths on a dating site, Cora trying her best to attract the historic serial killer.
Cora is stubborn and often comes across as depressed, but she’s good at her job. So when she’s told that backup won’t arrive on time to help take down this nest of vampires, she has to do it herself. When Vampires of the Velvet Lounge focuses on this sapphic story, it’s at its best, even when the acting is distracting. But Sherman diverts from this plotline often, choosing to invite more characters into this story. In particular, we are introduced to Ramsey (Stephen Dorff), an attorney who hitches a weekend trip with his client, who is in a blooming online fling with Joan. She invites him to the masquerade at Elizabeth’s bar, but this side story is rather pointless and seemingly exists to put Dorff in fangs again. Their inclusion is forced, serving solely as vessels to explain how sexual desires don’t exist in the same way for Sherman’s vampires. It’s a problem the script falls into more than a few times—telling rather than showing.
For those willing to match the film’s energy, it’s a fun watch with plenty of blood-soaked scenes. From mangled bodies stuck under the metal workings of a car to bathtubs filled with the blood gushing from freshly decapitated bodies. It’s excessive, but for a vampire film, it totally rules. Paired with the unique powers that Sherman chose, his vampires feel perfectly supernatural, with their large outstretched wings as they prey on humans and their ability to shatter glass with their voice. The most unique is how he portrays their ability to use persuasion: with a simple pointed command to their victim, vampires can make seemingly anyone do anything they want, even with simple gestures like blowing a kiss to a packed dance floor.
What really holds Vampires of the Velvet Lounge back is how poorly some of these characters are portrayed. It would be easy enough to get over the lack of budget and early 2000s–esque clunky VFX if there was a clear understanding of whether this film intends to come across as spoofy as it does. Some moments between Joan and her internet lover are heartfelt, leaning toward a genuine interest in being a romance. But these more serious points are usually followed up with something outlandish, like Elizabeth running over a happy couple, with their bodies literally exploding like their stomachs were full of dynamite.
Fortunately, the film has a saving grace with Suvari, who matches the campiness required to make Sherman’s vampire flick worth sinking your teeth into. She’s having a blast playing a version of such an iconic female serial killer, clad in skin-tight leather and long red hair, teetering between a thirst for blood and having to be the responsible leader of her group of undead. Making it hard to sit through scenes where she’s not involved. Surprisingly, the soundtrack keeps the film’s momentum going alongside Suvari’s seductive aura. It drives home the film’s noir aspects and helps create the film’s distinct grindhouse atmosphere.
For those looking for a silver bullet of hyper-sexual, low-budget vampire fun, Vampires of the Velvet Lounge will have your name all over it, bringing out the most supernatural and alluring aspects of vampirism and a killer lead performance. But when it drifts from a tense sapphic attraction between predator and prey, it becomes far less interesting.
Director:Finn Taylor Writer:Finn Taylor Stars: Stephen Lang, Elsie Fisher, Luke David Blumm
Synopsis:A Holocaust survivor harboring a 60-year secret forms a transformative friendship with a troubled teen. Their connection helps both find healing as Herbert finally shares his past with Abby.
Survivor’s guilt takes a powerful psychological toll on a human. It can lay dormant and then strike at a passing thought or an unexpected stimulus. It can take many forms both physical and mental. The idea that we lived while someone else didn’t is overwhelming and can consume us and come to define us. It can be years before a person even acknowledges this kind of burden that has plagued them. That’s where we find the two protagonists of The Optimist.
The film builds its narrative through dual storytelling. As Herbert (Stephen Lang) tells his story of survival during the Holocaust, Abby (Elsie Fisher) works her way toward coming to terms with what happened to her and her friend, Sabrina (Ursula Parker). The interweaving of the two narratives, structured around an interview with Herbert about his experiences, mixes the grand tragedies of human history with very personal tragedies in an intriguing way. It’s clear that Herbert sees something in Abby from the beginning and he seems to be the only person who can actually get Abby to really speak about her troubles. He tells her his story not to shock her, but to try and impart some semblance of hope into her life.
Even as powerful as Herbert’s story is, the constant interruption to the flow of it hampers the storytelling of the film. The need to return to the film’s present slows down the importance of Herbert’s narrative. It would work if the story were broken up by small scenes of interjection, questions, and hedging, but there are long periods of Abby’s story, which is very weak in comparison. Herbert’s recollections are so vivid and detailed, it’s jarring to get the disjointed memories of Abby’s guilt. Abby’s story is important, but the nearness of her past mixed with the distance of Herbert’s past is jarring.
The Optimist, though, is far more of an acting showcase than a structural piece. Both Stephen Lang and Elsie Fisher are terrific, but it’s Luke David Blumm as young Herbert who keeps our attention. This is also why the structure fails the film. The strongest part of this narrative is watching as Herbert has to experience one of the worst atrocities of human history. Blumm takes Herbert from innocent and easygoing to vacant and hopeless with a grounded believability. His thousand yard stare by the end of his time in the camp is truly haunting. Blumm is magnetic when he’s on screen and makes you wish the whole film was focused on him.
It’s easy to feel like we’ve seen this type of narrative before. We have many films that tell stories of Holocaust survivors. The most unique aspect of The Optimist, though, is that it doesn’t exploit the brutality inherent in its story. Director Finn Taylor uses imagery and sound to convey the monstrousness of the Holocaust, but doesn’t give us violence and gore. In one of the best examples of this, an officer addresses the lines of men, staring ahead. He’s telling them that escape is futile and that he wishes he didn’t have to constantly make examples of those who try. As he sits on a step we realize it’s a gallows and as the chair behind him is kicked we see the legs of a man as the man dies by hanging. This scene is far more powerful with the nonplussed officer in the foreground than if it had shown the face or death throes of the man being hanged. The evil of it is conveyed without being exploitative. This is why the film would have been better off staying in the past.
It would be different if the film were more dynamic. The scenes in the past are harrowing and heartbreaking. When not focused on the past, The Optimist functions more like a stage play. It’s mostly two people in a room talking. It feels stagnant at times when one or the other don’t want to move forward with either story. The fact that it moves and flows at all is thanks to editors Rick LeCompte and Kaufmanova Olina. The two of them build the structure of the film so that we see just enough. Through their expert cuts the story is revealed just as it needs to be. There are scenes that sing because of the way LeCompte and Olina cut.
The Optimist is a film worth seeing. It has some very good ideas and a good relationship between its two leads. It just feels as if it can’t get out of its own narrative device enough to really tell its story well. It’s hindered by this contrivance, which nearly ruins the whole film. Yet, see it if only for the performances, the story at its heart, and how these two characters come to understand and move forward from their grief.
Synopsis: A woman is abandoned by her boyfriend in the forest and befriends a pair of notorious fugitives, becoming dangerously entangled in their relationship.
There’s something special about independent cinema when it really locks into its rhythm. Free from the weight of massive budgets or big-name stars, these films feel freer, more daring, and more willing to follow strange emotional currents wherever they lead. A Safe Distance thrives in that space. It’s a lean, seductive thriller that builds tension slowly, letting atmosphere and character dynamics do most of the work. The result is the kind of film that pulls you in quietly before tightening its grip.
The opening is immediately striking. Two women stand in the woods, blood splattered across their faces, silently washing themselves in a river after what appears to be a violent encounter. The moment is both eerie and calm at the same time, leaving more questions than answers. Who are they? What happened? And whose blood is it? Rather than explaining itself right away, the film pulls back in time, revealing the story piece-by-piece as the tension begins to build.
At the center of it all is Alex (Bethany Brown), who arrives in the woods expecting nothing more dramatic than a romantic camping trip with her boyfriend, Joey (Chris McNally). They’re celebrating eight years together, and the trip should be a moment of connection. Instead, it becomes something much more uncomfortable. When Joey decides the perfect moment for a proposal is during a hike, Alex’s reaction is anything but romantic. The hesitation is written all over her face, and the proposal exposes the quiet dissatisfaction that’s been lurking in their relationship. The moment spirals quickly, and before long Joey storms off, leaving Alex alone in the forest.
That’s when she encounters Kianna (Tandia Mercedes) and Matt (Cody Kearsley), a couple camping nearby who seem to exist on a completely different wavelength. They’re confident, spontaneous, and full of the kind of reckless energy that Alex’s own life seems to be missing. From the beginning, their presence feels intoxicating. There’s an ease to the way they move through the world, as though they’ve simply stepped outside the expectations that trap everyone else.
It doesn’t take long for Alex to discover that their lifestyle isn’t just unconventional. Kianna and Matt are hiding out after a string of bank robberies, waiting for the chaos they’ve left behind to cool off. Instead of recoiling from the danger, Alex finds herself drawn in even further. After the awkward collapse of her relationship and the sudden uncertainty about where her life is headed, the freedom these two represent becomes strangely appealing. Their world is unpredictable and dangerous, but it also feels alive in a way her old life never did.
As Alex spends more time with them, the emotional center of the story begins to shift. While Matt initially appears charismatic and thrilling, it’s the connection between Alex and Kianna that slowly becomes the film’s most compelling element. Their sapphic chemistry builds in subtle ways; through quiet conversations, stolen glances, and moments that linger just a little longer than expected. Bethany Brown and Tandia Mercedes share a natural spark that gives these scenes a sense of electricity without needing to push too hard.
The film leans into that tension, allowing the attraction between them to grow naturally while the dynamic within the trio becomes increasingly unstable. Matt’s presence starts to feel less charming and more volatile, especially as the bond between the two women deepens. That imbalance creates a constant undercurrent of unease, the sense that something is slowly tightening beneath the surface.
What makes A Safe Distance particularly effective is its commitment to intimacy. The film doesn’t rely on elaborate action sequences or sweeping locations. Much of the story unfolds in the quiet isolation of the forest, with only a handful of characters carrying the narrative. Instead of feeling limited, the simplicity gives the film a focused intensity. Every glance, every conversation, and every shift in tone feels amplified within that small world.
As the story moves closer to the violent moment hinted at in the opening, the sense of dread becomes impossible to ignore. Relationships begin to fracture, jealousy creeps into the spaces where excitement once lived, and the fragile balance holding the trio together starts to unravel. The film allows that tension to simmer rather than explode all at once, creating a steady climb toward the inevitable breaking point.
By the time everything circles back to the haunting image that opened the story, the emotional stakes feel fully realized. The choices these characters have made, driven by desire, curiosity, and the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries of ordinary life, carry consequences that can no longer be avoided.
Gloria Mercer’s debut shows a filmmaker with a clear sense of tone and control. The film moves with confidence, trusting its performances and its slow-burning tension to guide the audience through a story where attraction, danger, and ambition intertwine. The performances from Bethany Brown, Tandia Mercedes, and Cody Kearsley anchor the film’s shifting dynamics, giving each moment a sense of unpredictability that keeps the story moving forward.
A Safe Distance stands as a sharp example of what independent thrillers can achieve when they lean into character, atmosphere, and emotional complexity rather than spectacle. It’s stylish, intimate, and quietly unsettling, allowing desire and danger—especially the sapphic bond at its heart—to blur together until the two become impossible to separate.
On this episode, Brendan and Megan break down the A24 horror film Undertone! There’s been a lot of talk about the film’s terrifying sound design, and how it gets under your skin in a unique and effective way. But also, there’s equally been some fascination conversation over its themes and bizarre twists.
Review:Undertone
Director: Ian Tuason Writers: Ian Tuason Stars: Nina Kiri, Adam DiMarco
I don’t even know where to begin with this one. Very few films have imprinted themselves onto me like Midnight Special. It’s hard to believe it’s been ten years, but I think about Jeff Nichols’ masterpiece every day. It has profoundly impacted my life and how I approach my relationship with my two boys. “I’ll always worry about you, that’s the deal” is a line of dialogue that penetrated my soul and carried me into a new stratosphere of humanity that I didn’t know existed.
For context, ten years ago when Midnight Special hit theaters for the first time, I was a brand new father. And when I say brand new, my oldest boy (Sam) was just five months old. If you know me at all, you already know that I’m an emotional person, generally. So imagine how vulnerable I was at that time with a baby boy in the house and learning to understand the various depths of fatherhood. Nothing can really prepare you. However, I can tell you that I was very excited to be a dad.
Jeff Nichols was already becoming one of “My Guys” prior to March of 2016. Shotgun Stories was excellent. Take Shelter took the cinematic world by storm as one of the very best movies of 2011 with powerhouse performances by Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain. Mud was also incredible, serving as one of the great mechanisms for the McConaissance. As far as I was concerned, Nichols was batting 1.000 with one big homerun already. When we did our Most Anticipated Movies of 2016, Midnight Special was #2 on my list. To say I was ready for it would be an understatement.
But as the old joke goes – “narrator: he wasn’t ready.”
I was quite intrigued by the film’s initial premise. Alton (Jaeden Martell) has magical powers that are never really explained. The government is after him. Some sort of cult is equally desperate to find him. Where exactly does Alton need to go? And why? The mystery that Nichols creates from a plotting perspective is riveting. This is especially effective when coupled with Nichols’ direction and the atmosphere he creates. It’s just cryptic enough to hook you into the story while inviting you to be an observer and ascribe your own meaning as the film unfolds. While Nichols doesn’t give us all of the answers by the end, there are more than enough clues to cue us into what’s happening with Alton and why Roy (Michael Shannon) is desperate to get him to a specified location. The dramatic urgency at the core of Midnight Special pulsates with gripping tension and an arresting ambiguity. Simply from a surface level filmmaking perspective, there is plenty to appreciate as a mystery, sci-fi thriller.
However; the great sleight of hand with the film is that Alton’s destination is just a red herring. It’s a mechanism that allows Roy to show us his true colors. A pathway for a mother to denote her vulnerability. Because the heart of Midnight Special is all about love and sacrifice. It’s clear that Roy doesn’t fully understand Alton’s abilities, except that they are unique and can have harrowing consequences if you’re not careful. What is cogent, though, is Roy’s love for his boy. At every turn, Roy is 100% committed to Alton, his safety and ensuring that he is brought to the coordinates he’s been designated. “I don’t really believe in anything, except my son. And I’ll do anything for him,” Roy tenderly expresses at one point in the film. Perhaps his adoration for Alton is expected, but the sacrifices he chooses to make ring loudly. They say a lot about him.
And not just because the government is after Alton, leaving Roy in presumably a ton of legal trouble. Especially given an incident with a police officer early on in the film. Or the fact that Roy took Alton from Pastor Calvin Meyer’s (Sam Shepherd) ranch where Alton was being exploited for the cult’s own religious purposes, provoking Meyer to send a couple of thugs after Roy. These actions come with their own consequences and it certainly heightens Roy’s desperation. But that’s not really it, is it?
Maybe we are moved by Roy’s motives and apathy for what may be coming to him when this is all over. Maybe he goes to jail. Maybe the ranch gets to have their way with him. Roy doesn’t care about any of that as long as Alton safely gets to his destination. That dedication is admirable and it’s something we all aim for as parents. But that’s not what makes Midnight Special so profoundly stirring. The real reason it rips my heart out: Roy knows that deep down he may never see Alton again. He’s willing to sacrifice his life and freedom to get Alton to where he needs to be, all while knowing that he has to say goodbye.
In what might be the most moving sequence I’ve ever seen, and trust me, I understand the gravity of the statement, Roy finally gets Alton to the drop off point. The government is on their tail. They don’t have much time. The thugs are on their scent as well. Alton and his mother, Sarah (Kirsten Dunst), get out of the vehicle and begin to walk away. Nichols cuts back to Roy, and you can see his mind racing with panic, love and hope. He couldn’t let the moment escape him, so he calls out to Alton by saying his name. “Alton!” Alton then turns around. The look in his eyes as the camera cuts back to Roy…I’ll never forget it.
Michael Shannon deserved an Oscar for that specific moment alone. The mere thought of it brings me to tears (#JDTears™), let alone seeing the image once again. But of course, that’s not the end of it. The camera then cuts back to Alton, who nods at his father in gratitude and love, seemingly also aware of what this goodbye means. The camera cuts back to Roy one more time, with that same bittersweet look in his eyes, he gives a quite little smile as he looks back at his one last time.
There comes a point for every parent where we have to learn to let go of their children so they can go on to do great things and become who they are meant to be. To grow on their own and live the life they deserve. As we see in the final moments of Midnight Special, Alton had a bigger purpose. He was destined for otherworldly magnificence. The film’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind inspired final sequence makes for an unforgettable conclusion from a dramatic and aesthetic perspective, but it’s also an immaculate summation for the film thematically. The good news is that while we send our kids off to live their lives, we still get to be a part of it in some small way, if we’re lucky. The idea, however, still resonates deeply because once they leave the nest it’s never the same. It’s in those ideas, coupled with Shannon’s fervently moving performance, where I found myself profoundly moved. To say that it obliterated me is not doing it justice.
Another facet I find equally moving revolves around expectation. It’s one thing to say goodbye, it’s another given the fact that this was never what Roy would have envisioned when Alton was born. Like all parents, he would have dreamt about Alton following his footsteps or hoping to have an identity similar to his. But that was never in the cards. And I think that’s subtly quite vital to the film’s thematic underbelly because it suggests that our sacrifices should come without strings. Roy had to forgo any expectations he had for Alton so he could become what he was meant to be. Without that lesson, his goodbye doesn’t carry as much weight. But for Roy it was never about what he wanted, it was always about his son. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening. Roy was going to get him to that location at all costs.
I’ve mostly been talking about Roy here (one of the best movie dads in all of cinema), but we need to shout out Sarah as well. Her role in the film is smaller, but equally powerful in her goodbye at the end of the film. Sarah needed to escape the cult when Alton was little, and while that may cause some complications between her and Roy, it’s understandable given what we learn about the cult. Her scenes reuniting with Alton are just as powerful though, when they do come. She’s equally as desperate and eager as Roy once she enters the picture. And because Roy ends up creating a distraction so Alton can transcend, it’s Sarah who gets to witness him leaving for another world. And like Roy, her eyes tell the story.
The performances by Shannon and Dunst in this film are beyond incredible. The ravishing introspection they convey here is truly extraordinary. They quintessentially demonstrate that oftentimes, the best acting comes from denoting emotion through subtlety. They don’t have to say anything (and they really don’t) to exhibit heartbreak, uncertainty, love, hope and everything in between. In short, they’re both phenomenal.
I would be remiss to not mention the Great Protector that is Lucas, played wonderfully by Joel Edgerton. A friend of Roy’s and someone who joins the mission without any questions. Perhaps uncertain at first, Lucas is a fascinating character as we slowly see him become a believer in Alton, as his trust and curiosity in him grows. Eventually, like Roy, he puts everything on the line despite having no emotional connection to Alton. It’s a compelling metaphor for faith that captivatingly juxtaposes what we see with the Religious Ranch and their disingenuous views.
The same can be said for Paul (Adam Driver), who works for the U.S. government, but instead of hunting Alton for security or exploitative scientific purposes, his interest is pure. His curiosity is that of a child eager to learn about the expansiveness of our galaxy. Something that Driver taps into with opulent precision.
Let’s talk about that final sequence. As I mentioned the ending to Midnight Special is very to Close Encounters of the Third Kind, especially in its visual framing regarding its transcendent, alien-like structures that are birthed out of the ground. It’s beautiful and surreal. The bright, yellow hues emphasize the film’s symbolism of Alton leaving the dark (early on in the film, we learn that Alton could only go out at night due to his condition) and entering his new phase of promise. The thematic nucleus is all about letting go of our children so they can go on to do great things, and grow into the person they were meant to be, and this visual embodiment impeccably complements those notions. Understandably, it may not be for everyone, but as someone finely tuned into the film’s emotion, to see Alton dissolve into this magical realm as not only a mechanism for identity, but for his own safety and well-being, I transformed into a puddle. And I love that it’s never explained. Nichols completely leaves it open to interpretation, a choice that I find calculative and deft.
Jeff Nichols pulls off a magic trick with Midnight Special. There are a lot of moving parts here narratively. The government clearly sees Alton as some sort of weapon they can utlize if they get their hands on him. The Ranch wants to exploit him for their own religious purposes. Paul becomes engulfed in his own curiosities. Roy and Sarah are desperate parents who want to protect their boy at all costs, along with Lucas as the audience surrogate of sorts. Each of these threads serve a purpose that I find captivating. Could Calvin have had more screen time? Was Paul underutilized? Maybe. I can listen to those arguments. But overall I find the balance of all these angles impressively sublime. Nichols fills in those potential missing gaps through attention to detail. There are little quirks, nibbles of dialogue, or visuals that clue us into the motives of these characters. And it allows for Midnight Special to be about the main thing. There may be a lot going on in terms of dramatic pursuit, but underneath it all is a focused examination of parenthood and love.
A special movie that I will soon not forget. Happy Anniversary to an all-time favorite of mine.
Director:Nicholas Roeg Writers:Paul Mayersberg, Walter Tevis Stars: David Bowie, Rip Torn, Candy Clark
Synopsis:An alien must pose as a human to save his dying planet, but a woman and the greed of other men create complications.
There are some films you watch. And then some films watch you back. Revisiting The Man Who Fell to Earth for its anniversary, I was struck not just by how strange it still feels, but by how eerily modern it remains.
Directed by Nicolas Roeg and released in 1976, the film casts David Bowie as Thomas Jerome Newton, an alien who arrives on Earth in search of water for his dying planet. Disguised in human form, pale, refined, unsettlingly composed, Newton uses advanced technology from his home world to amass immense wealth through a series of patents and inventions. His plan is simple: build a spacecraft, return home, and save his family. Of course, nothing on Earth is ever that simple.
What unfolds isn’t a conventional science fiction narrative. There are no grand laser battles or intense alien invasions. Instead, Roeg crafts something far more disorienting: a fragmented meditation on capitalism, addiction, loneliness, and the corrosive pull of power. Watching it now, I found myself less focused on the “alien” premise and more on the profound sense of isolation.
It’s almost impossible to separate the performance from the persona. By 1976, Bowie had already created and shed Ziggy Stardust, flirted with soul and plastic funk, and cultivated an image that felt extraterrestrial even without prosthetics. Casting him as an alien was either the most obvious choice imaginable or the most inspired. Likely both.
Bowie himself would later speak about the period as one of excess and fragmentation. Knowing that adds a haunting layer to Newton’s isolation and disintegration. It’s hard not to see the performance as both a character study and an unintentional self-portrait.
For an alien, Newton is quiet, observant, and often passive. His otherness doesn’t come from grand gestures but from stillness. Bowie’s angular frame and mismatched eyes (accentuated on screen) make him seem perpetually out of sync with the world around him. He looks like he’s listening to a frequency no one else can hear. And in this, his performance is mesmerizing – as a viewer, you’re trying to figure him out, and he does well in giving you everything and nothing at the same time.
The film’s structure mirrors Newton’s unraveling. Roeg abandons linear storytelling in favor of fractured editing and overlapping imagery. Television screens flicker constantly in the background, a barrage of information that feels strangely prophetic in our hyper-connected age. Watching it today, it feels less like 1970s surrealism and more like a preview of digital overload.
Candy Clark’s Mary-Lou, who forms a relationship with Newton, brings warmth and vulnerability to the film. Their connection is tender but doomed. His descent into alcohol dependency, vodka becoming his earthly substitute for survival, feels tragic rather than melodramatic. Addiction here isn’t spectacle; it’s erosion. Something still eerily relevant in 2026.
What fascinates me most about The Man Who Fell to Earth is its refusal to resolve cleanly. It drifts, much like Newton himself. By the end, I didn’t feel like I’d watched a story conclude. I felt like I’d witnessed a being slowly swallowed by systems he underestimated: corporate greed, government surveillance, human weakness. The alien doesn’t conquer Earth. Earth absorbs and neutralizes him.
Visually, the film remains stunning. It’s science fiction rooted in atmosphere rather than machinery. Even decades later, it doesn’t look dated; it looks deliberate. Rewatching The Man Who Fell to Earth, I didn’t just see a cult classic. I saw a film about displacement, about being brilliant and lost at the same time. It’s a sci-fi film that barely cares about science, a character study that feels cosmic in scale, and a Bowie performance that remains as magnetic and mysterious as ever. Some films age. This one simply hovers; strange, beautiful, and forever slightly out of reach.
Director: Ian Tuason Writer:Ian Tuason Stars: Nina Kiri, Adam DiMarco, Michèle Duquet
Synopsis: The host of a popular paranormal podcast becomes haunted by terrifying recordings mysteriously sent her way.
Feeling goosebumps after hearing a weird noise in your house is a normal thing. It can be a small “eeeeek” from the floor or even the noise that the air conditioner makes when it turns on. If you’re hearing talking inside your house and you don’t have a tv, music, or a podcast on then I suggest that you make a few calls and go stay at a family member’s house for a little bit. The sounds in the new indie horror undertone has given audiences the willies and it damn sure will give older audience members the jitters. Focusing on the sounds in the film adds a new level of terror that a lot of horror movies don’t take advantage of. Director Ian Tuason has built a home that doesn’t have a fleshed out foundation but the amenities are worth sticking around for to enjoy.
The story follows Evy (Nina Kiri) as a young horror/true crime podcast host. Aside from having a very successful podcast she’s the only person in her immediate family that can take care of her dying mother. This responsibility is taking a toll on her even though she won’t admit it to her co-host/friend, Justin (Adam DiMarco), and boyfriend, Darren. Evy has a routine that she follows as she takes care of her mom and it’s consistent until her and Justin start covering a cryptic story on their show. The audio that they receive via email is weird, but not weird enough to keep them from doing their job. The sounds that come from the audio are downright painstaking. As the movie continues, the duo listens to each audio tape. We’re given a bonkers look into Evy, a character that clearly sees that evil is afoot but she’s disregarding it and acting like things aren’t what they appear to be or sound like.
One of the bright spots for me in this movie was the sound design. Filmmakers don’t usually discuss a lot about the sounds in their movies unless it’s a major part of it. Tuason and his crew went into this movie thinking that the sounds would be a thing to reel in audiences and ultimately it is. As a podcaster I can say that recording audio can be a difficult thing if your internet connection has a lag, mics can pick up stuff that alters the sound, and more. Seeing our lead actress react to the sounds in the headphones and even the sounds without headphones is something that I am all too familiar with. There’s a camera technique that they create which shows the camera angles slanted to look like it was turning in the manner of a clock. The shots of the clock in Evy’s living room are so entrancing and the sounds of it are impressive.
There’s a religious subplot with Evy’s dying mother that manages to hold on towards the end of the movie. It involves children and nursery rhymes that we’ve all heard during childhood. There’s an added layer to this subplot that has to do with children dying and/or being sacrificed. That’s a very common thing to be featured in movies with demons and the thing that turned me off was that I’ve seen it in a lot of other things. The lack of characters in the movie is another thing that I didn’t like either. undertone’s editing, sound design and the camera work are really the crown jewel of this film. On a small budget, Tuason assembled a great crew and they all worked together to really make this something that has a lot of value. If he’s already making films like this then I think that he should be a director to really pay attention to in the coming years.
Director:Silvio Soldini Writers:Doriana Leondeff, Silvio Soldini, Cristina Comencini, Giulia Calenda, Ilaria Macchia, Lucio Ricca Stars: Elisa Schlott, Max Reimelt, Alma Hasun
Synopsis:Seven women are forced to taste Hitler’s food to check for poison. As they spend time together, their relationships evolve between loyalty and betrayal.
The breadth of World War II is such that there will always be new stories to tell. Whether fact or fiction based on fact, this time in world history affected a broad swath of humanity like no other. Every story that crops up is a very human story about survival in harsh circumstances. Not every story is about soldiers or resistance, either. Many people who were affected directly by the war just wanted to try and carve out some sort of life for themselves amid the horror and violence. The Tasters is a story of civilians and very small acts of resistance.
Paranoid rulers have had food tasters for centuries of human history. Even before the true story was told and turned into a novel, which serves as the basis for this film, it stands to reason that Hitler would have employed someone to make sure that his food was safe. This story and the women in it seem as real and complex as women in this situation may have been in life. Director Silvio Soldini and all of his co-writers give us a plausible account of what could have happened in this situation.
Where the story lacks is in the slog of it. It feels like not a lot is happening. Since the well documented attempts on Hitler’s life during his time in power never included a poisoning at this period, there isn’t a lot of true drama. The film feels like it just goes through the motions of having the worst job in the world where the worst case scenario isn’t coming to fruition. The first meal is incredibly tense. The meal in which several women get sick is also harrowing, but for the most part it is a film that marks time. As we see the different title cards that tell us of the month and year, we can feel the inevitability that this unenviable task will come to an end soon, but it feels like so much of the middle sags with inaction.
There are many subplots within the film that add some different levels of tension. There is a need for an abortion, there are secret liaisons with an officer, there’s a husband MIA on the front lines, and, of course, one of the tasters is Jewish and in hiding who arrived at that point under an assumed identity. Each of these subplots could have been its own film. The Tasters pulls us in many different directions, but it serves to show us just how complicated life could be for ordinary people trying to live through the war. It just makes you wish that the tension could have been heightened by one of these subplots superseding the main plot much faster than it does.
It’s a benefit to the film to have a focal character like Rosa (Elisa Schlott). She’s an outsider to this place and living with her in-laws after being left homeless by the bombing in Berlin. She has street smarts that come in handy and a strong will that puts her in a more confident position among her peers. Her story is one of an ordinary citizen not caught up in the politics of Nazism, but just wants the war to be over. She just wants her husband to come home. In that way she puts up a resistance that’s less about force of arms and more about force of will. She will not be broken.
The strength of Rosa’s story is bolstered by Elisa Schlott’s performance. She has to run the gamut of emotions and a strong physical performance as Rosa has to scrap a few times. She’s able to convey complexity with a flick of her eyes or the movement of her brows. Schlott brings a great sense of believability and grounding to an extraordinary situation. The Tasters is often tense and pulse-pounding even if those moments are few and far between. The film strives to tell a civilian story of war and how the people suffer by their own fascist government, no matter their allegiance. It’s a film that will appeal to World War II buffs and people who have a taste for historical drama, but that may be it.
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, JD is joined by Joey Gentile to discuss the 98th Academy Awards! The ceremony itself was really great, there were a few surprises and overall lots to celebrate with Sinners and One Battle After Another combining for 10 Oscars on the night!
– 98th Academy Awards (6:15) This week’s show is all about the Oscars. After some opening banter, we jump right in talking about the ceremony overall, Conan as a host and overall how much better of a production it was compared to the last few years. It wasn’t perfect, there were a few bumps, but on the whole a great Oscars and it featured some incredible winners.
– 2026 Oscars (58:13) While there were some locked categories, there were quite a few that were up in the air, including Best Picture, which made the evening more tense than usual. Things turned even more exciting with surprises in Best Casting and Best Cinematography. It was a great year for movies and refreshing to see the winners deeply representative of that. Which is why the discourse that followed all the more baffling. We have to stop the sportsification of art. Yes, the Oscars is technically a competition, but it’s not sports. The manufacturing of rivalries is obtuse, and of course, we had to talk about that as well. That said, what did you think of the 2026 Oscars?
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
Director:Brandon Christensen Writers:Brandon Christensen and Ryan Christensen Stars: Jaime M. Callica, Sean Rogerson, Catherine Lough Haggquist
Synopsis:Two police officers investigate a domestic dispute and there is an accidental shooting. Not wanting to be crucified by the public, the officers attempt to cover it up – only to uncover that the cameras aren’t the only things watching them.
Each year, Shudder releases a new V/H/S anthology series, giving emerging filmmakers a chance to showcase their talents in the found footage genre. Like most anthology projects, some segments are stronger than others. However, as a horror franchise, the V/H/S films have hardly influenced other titles in the genre. At least not in the same way as films like Hereditary or The Conjuring. The new Shudder release, Bodycam, is one of the first horror movies that feels heavily inspired by V/H/S. The tonal similarities are so strong that if it were shorter, one could easily see Bodycam as a V/H/S segment.
Directed by Brandon Christensen, the film centers on two cops called to investigate a domestic dispute. The two men, Officer Jackson (Jaime M. Callica) and Officer Bryce (Sean Rogerson), enter the home and are immediately met with an air of strangeness. The entire home is dark and eerily quiet, and a baby crib has a dying animal lying inside it. They finally encounter the home’s husband and wife. The wife is bloody and erratic. The husband holds a newborn while standing next to a hole in the basement. Above the hole is the word “Rise” written in red letters. The welfare check ends violently as one of the parents is killed by Officer Bryce. The screenplay by Brandon and Ryan Christensen then confronts police corruption. Bryce wants to cover it up because of how the situation appears optically. Jackson, on the other hand, pushes back on the idea and insists on doing the right thing.
Once they depart, the real horror begins to unfold. Homeless individuals and locals repeat a common threat to Bryce, saying, “You take something from us, we take something from you.” For as many things as the film gets right, the aporophobia aspects feel problematic. The stigma around people experiencing poverty is already hard to overcome. Making them scary in a horror film amid a homeless crisis does not sit well. But the other details, while not entirely original, do offer an energetic horror ride beyond troublesome depictions. Officer Jackson attempts to keep a handle on things while Bryce’s reality shatters. The department is no longer responding to their radio calls, and loved ones begin acting out of character. The pacing in these scenarios is solid. The only drawback is that Christensen sometimes leans on easy horror cliches. For instance, the elongated demon/ghost face has been featured in almost every horror movie in the last decade. One cannot see an elongated mouth without thinking about the trailer for Grave Encounters.
While Bodycam speaks about police corruption, it feels like a missed opportunity to explore the topic of police brutality thematically. The potential was ripe considering recent events. However, one can make a case that Bodycam is an allegory about the broken and oppressed fighting back. For instance, Officer Jackson’s mother, Ally Jackson (Catherine Lough Haggquist), takes in individuals from the street and continually draws a distinction between the neighborhood residents and her son. A few moments later, the locals his mother supports are seen chanting in a circle inside the home.
The greatest strength of Bodycam is its approach to filming. The hardest part to explain in a found footage movie is why the characters keep recording. It’s smart to use the body-cam setup because police are required to keep them on at all times. The approach makes the footage feel more believable. The problem comes with the horror elements. There isn’t much new here in terms of horror ideas or scares. But depending on your perspective, this can be seen as both a strength and a weakness. The scenes have been done before, but Christensen manages them skillfully. Frequent horror enthusiasts will know what to expect. The jump scares are loud; when evil is nearby, the footage glitches; strangers invoke the cliché of demonic voices; and threats emerge from the shadows, cackling. Also, like the current V/H/S style, the film’s final section shifts into absurd territory.
Bodycam plays the correct notes, even if they are familiar. The pacing is better than most low-budget offerings, and there are a few surprisingly effective moments. The film will perfectly serve the audience who loves the V/H/S franchise. It has all the chaotic energy of the V/H/S films, while retaining some of its silliness. However, the final act arguably falls victim to the campy side. It’s not perfect, and at times it feels like a short film that was overextended. Still, for a direct-to-streaming horror film, the 75-minute police ride should satisfy.
Director:Stephanie Laing Writers:Jonathan Keasey, Brant Boivin Stars: Rose Byrne, Octavia Spencer, Simon Rex
Synopsis:The true story of Amanda Ogle (Byrne), a homeless Seattle woman who fought her way out of tow-company hell to reclaim her life and car after receiving a tow bill for $21,634.
David vs. Goliath. Ford vs. Ferrari. Rocky vs. Apollo Creed (or Clubber Lang, or Ivan Drago). Bard vs. Smaug. The story of the little guy (or girl) who stands in the face of great odds and manages to come out on top is indelible in many cultures, including our own in the world of film. There is something inherently relatable about watching this battle, as most of us feel crushed and stomped upon by the Goliath in our own lives. This is especially true when our opponent is the system we all live under, as opposed to a particular person, regardless of size and/or skill.
In Tow, based on a true story, Academy-Award nominee Rose Byrne plays Amanda Ogle, a woman who has been wronged by the system, and possibly by life itself. We are introduced to her during a job interview in which she swears that she has appropriate experience in pet grooming but has had to write it in the margins because of printer issues. The camera focuses on Byrne’s face in an uncomfortably close manner, which seems to be a pattern now, after If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. Byrne is one of the best actors currently working and is well up to the challenge of this level of focus, even when saddled with a vocal choice that a lesser actor would have folded under.
Immediately after this, her car is stolen, dropped off elsewhere, and then towed. Amanda attempts to get her car back, but the company has saddled her with the bill (which eventually escalates into thousands of dollars). Quickly, we find out a number of things about Amanda. She is not only unemployed, but is currently living in her vehicle, a 1991 Toyota Camry. Add on to this, she is struggling with substance abuse and has a contentious relationship with her daughter, Avery (Elsie Fisher), due to her absence.
And herein lies the problem with this, and many other movies about the plight of real people. In trying to do justice to them as complete people, movies can get easily muddled in what they are trying to get across. Is this a movie about recovery? Family? Fighting the capitalist system? The answer, of course, is all of the above. But sadly, most of these ideas never come to fruition in a cohesive or complete way.
The only things that Tow really has going for it is a pretty standard uplifting story and Rose Byrne, herself. Byrne holds court throughout the runtime and remains likeable, while also pulling at the heartstrings, especially during difficult phone conversations with her daughter. She seems to have an innate ability to pull us in, which is sorely needed here. As expected, Amanda makes some poor choices, but there is not a moment where we feel pulled to leave her side.
As she moves through the court system, and is assisted (kind of) by a well-meaning lawyer, Kevin (a sadly underused Dominic Sessa), a mechanic (Simon Rex), and a stern homeless shelter manager, Barb (Octavia Spencer), one cannot help but wonder if a more streamlined version of her story would be more effective. That being said, Byrne manages to keep all of these strands together, aided by a narrative device using her journal, which finally comes together at the climax of the film.
Spencer, in particular, is frustrating because this is a character she can play with one arm tied behind her back. Barb is a role that could have been fleshed out even more and feels like a waste of her many talents. Tow also engages in a bit of stunt casting with its other shelter residents. Denise (Ariana DeBose) and Nova (Demi Lovato) are the two main culprits, and their sole job is to provide distraction and motivation for Amanda when she loses a bit of steam. DeBose continues a troubling trend of uninspired choices after her Academy Award win, though this is nowhere near as embarrassing as Love Hurts. Lovato, on the other hand, shows promise, but you can basically start a countdown until she sings. Is it a good performance? Yes, but like most of the film, deeply predictable.
And frankly, that is all of Tow’s issues boiled down into a succinct sentence. It offers no surprises, even if you were not aware of the real-life story behind the film. Yes, our protagonist has her share of faults, but none of them are deep enough to challenge the audience. The antagonists, especially the lawyer for the tow truck company played with relish by Corbin Bernsen, are so cartoonishly evil that even these scenes are more laughable than enraging, as they should be. So, while it is impossible not to be moved by a woman wronged by the system, especially during a scene in which Byrne reads from her journal in a perfectly halting, emotional speech, one can’t help but think they have seen this all before, and in this exact order.
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan gives us her instant reaction to the 98th Academy Awards! This year’s Oscars featured quite the race and it was exciting to see how it all unfolded. We’ll get into it in much more detail on the podcast this week, but for now, here are some immediate reactions right off the heels of the ceremony and we saw Sunday night.
One Battle After Another — Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent
Sinners — Jacob Mauceri, Zach Youngs, James D Williams, Branyan Towe
Best Director
Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle After Another) — Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, JD Duran, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Ryan Coogler (Sinners)— Zach Youngs, Romey Norton
Best Actor
Michael B. Jordan (Sinners) — Shadan Larki. Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, James D Williams, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Wagner Moura (The Secret Agent) – Zach Youngs
Best Actress
Jessie Buckley (Hamnet) —Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Rose Byrne (If I Had Legs I’d Kick You)— Zach Youngs, James D Williams
Best Supporting Actor
Sean Penn (One Battle After Another) — Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Dave Giannini, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Delroy Lindo (Sinners) — Joshua Mbonu, James D Williams
Benicio del Toro (One Battle After Another) – Jacob Throneberry
Best Supporting Actress
Wunmi Mosaku (Sinners) — Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, James D Williams, JD Duran, Branyan Towe
Teyana Taylor (One Battle After Another) — Erica Richards, Dave Giannini
Amy Madigan (Weapons) —Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Throneberry
Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas (Sentimental Value) – Zach Youngs, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent
Best Original Screenplay
Sinners (Ryan Coogler) — Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
It Was Just An Accident (Jafar Panahi, Nader Saïvar, Shadmehr Rastin, Mehdi Mahmoudian) — Zach Youngs
Best Adapted Screenplay
One Battle After Another (Paul Thomas Anderson) — Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, JD Duran, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
KPop Demon Hunters — Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Zach Youngs, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Best International Feature Film
Sentimental Value (Norway)— Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Branyan Towe
The Secret Agent (Brazil) Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, Maxance Vincent
It Was Just An Accident (France) – Zach Youngs
Best Documentary Feature
The Perfect Neighbor: Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent
Come See Me in the Good Light – Zach Youngs, Dave Giannini, Branyan Towe
Best Casting
Sinners:Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, JD Duran, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
One Battle After Another: Zach Youngs
Marty Supreme: Romey Norton
Best Film Editing
One Battle After Another (Andy Jurgensen):Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
F1 (Stephen Mirrione): Zach Youngs
Best Cinematography
Sinners: Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Train Dreams: Zach Youngs
One Battle After Another: JD Duran, Romey Norton, Joshua Mbonu, Shadan Larki,
Best Production Design
Frankenstein:Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Branyan Towe
Sinners: Zach Youngs, Maxance Vincent
Hament: Romey Norton
Best Costume Design
Frankenstein: Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Branyan Towe
Avatar: Fire and Ash: Zach Youngs
Sinners: Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent
Best Makeup & Hairstyling
Frankenstein: Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
The Ugly Stepsister: Zach Youngs, James D Williams
Best Original Score
Sinners (Ludwig Göransson): Shadan Larki, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Dave Giannini, James D Williams, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
One Battle After Another – Jonny Greenwood – Zach Youngs, Jacob Throneberry
Best Original Song
“Golden” — KPop Demon Hunters: Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Romey Norton, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
“Dear Me” — Diane Warren Relentless – Zach Youngs
Best Sound
F1: The Movie:Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
Sirat: Zach Youngs, Romey Norton
Best Visual Effects
Avatar: Fire and Ash:Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Joshua Mbonu, Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry, Dave Giannini, JD Duran, Maxance Vincent, Branyan Towe
