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There’s a moment early in UP / DOWN that encapsulates its entire thesis—John Karlston (Michael Cooke) finds himself in a fluorescent-filled waiting room that looks more like a medical clinic than the afterlife. The receptionist tells him to sit tight. What’s he waiting for? That’s the question the entire short film dances around with precision and just enough bite to leave an impression long after its 11-minute runtime ends.

There’s a kind of dread that doesn’t arrive with screams, but with silence. THE SPARROW IN THE CHIMNEY is soaked in that specific discomfort — an eerie stillness that hovers over every frame, each interaction brimming with withheld emotions and domestic disquiet. The final chapter in Ramon Zürcher’s loosely connected “animal trilogy” is his most blistering and refined yet — a psychological slow burn that turns a seemingly mundane family gathering into an experience as suffocating as it is hypnotic.

There’s a fine line between recovering the past and being consumed by it. SITE plants itself firmly at the intersection of memory, trauma, and metaphysical unease, unraveling a slow-burn psychological thriller that’s just as much about family and grief as it is about sci-fi horror. While the concept may evoke something familiar, the execution feels personal and ambitious, driven by a lead performance that elevates its darkest moments.

If there’s a modern horror equivalent to “never start a band with your friends,” it’s probably “never start a monetized content house with unstable influencers.” THE QUIET ONES takes that premise and runs with it—sprinting into a fever dream of egos, algorithms, and chaos disguised as camaraderie. Written and directed by Nicholas Winter, this indie LGBTQIA2S+ thriller is sharp, mean, sexy, and laced with a streak of irreverent pitch-black humor. It has more style and substance than you would ever expect, in the best way possible.

There’s no such thing as a simple road trip in Robert Kramer’s world. ROUTE ONE/USA isn’t about sightseeing or making the best time—it’s about the soul of a country through the lens of lives most people drive past without noticing. Originally released in 1989 and newly restored for a 2025 Blu-ray debut by Icarus Films and Vinegar Syndrome, this epic, four-hour-plus documentary stands as one of the most quietly radical explorations of America ever captured on camera.

SHE RIDES SHOTGUN doesn't try to be revolutionary on the surface—it just quietly earns your attention. What starts as a classic on-the-run thriller grows into something far more layered and emotionally intense. This is a story about a father and daughter struggling to reconnect while the world hunts them down, and it’s executed with a level of grit and soul that sneaks up on you. What you don’t necessarily expect is two performances that outshine the experience itself. Even if the film isn’t perfect, the heart and acting at its core deliver.

MONDO KEYHOLE: THE PSYCHOTRONICA COLLECTION #2 is a contradiction in motion—a grimy relic of 60s underground cinema that manages to be both brutally exploitative and strangely artistic. Part of VCI’s ongoing restoration series (although this is #2 in the series, it looks like #1, 3, and 4 will be coming in September), this 2K scan breathes new life into one of the earliest—and most uncomfortable—entries in the “roughie” genre. And while it’s not for everyone, it’s a revealing time capsule of America’s sleaziest cinematic corners.

Set against the tranquil calm of Omro, Wisconsin, THE OMRO HEIST brings high-stakes chaos to a town that probably hasn’t seen this much action in its entire history. Directed by Jamie Bailey and co-written by Simon Phillips, this low-budget crime thriller capitalizes on the simplicity of its premise, resulting in a film that may not reinvent the genre, but certainly delivers on its promise of tension and bloodshed.

There’s an eccentric charm to a movie that knows exactly what it is—bizarre, small-scale, and just the right amount of unhinged. CURDLED, the feature-length expansion of Reb Braddock’s 1991 short film, is one of those rare projects that doesn’t flinch in its identity as a gleefully macabre black comedy. With its 2025 4K re-release from Kino Lorber, a new opportunity arises to revisit this curious slice of ‘90s weirdness—now cleaned up, even if the story itself remains coated in grime and gore.

To be entirely clear and transparent, I’m not part of the worldwide phenomenon known as the BTS Army (Adorable Representative M.C. for Youth). I’ve honestly never listened to their music, and until screening this, I had no clue about the impact their fanbase has had. It would’ve been easy—too easy—for a documentary about BTS to fall into either shallow glorification or an overly analytical dissection of celebrity. What BTS ARMY: FOREVER WE ARE YOUNG manages instead is something that feels grounded and unique in the way it prioritizes the fans over fame. This is neither a concert film nor a tell-all industry exposé. Instead, it functions as a people-first mosaic that explores the lives, emotions, and growth of those who have wrapped their identities in purple light and found purpose in the community.

You could argue that THE OLD DARK HOUSE was too strange, and too early. Released in 1932, sandwiched between the earth-shaking shock of FRANKENSTEIN and THE INVISIBLE MAN, James Whale’s genre-blending haunted house film didn’t quite fit the mold of Universal’s monster-driven horror renaissance. It wasn’t a monster movie, and it wasn’t a straight gothic either—it was something else. Something campy and dry, macabre and absurd. And for years, it was nearly forgotten. Thanks to a meticulous 4K restoration and limited-edition release from Eureka’s Masters of Cinema series, that wrong gets spectacularly righted.

James DeMonaco’s THE HOME might come from the same mind that brought us THE PURGE, but this isn't a dystopian free-for-all. It’s something more contained, more psychological, and, ultimately, more personal. Anchored by an unexpectedly tame performance from Pete Davidson and bolstered by a stellar cast of stage and screen veterans, THE HOME reimagines the haunted house subgenre inside a decaying retirement facility where the dead don’t just haunt the halls—they might still be walking them.

BILLY MADISON shouldn’t work as well as it does. On paper, it’s a loud, abrasive film built around the antics of a man-child with too much money and too little maturity. But somehow, through a combination of perfect comedic timing, endearing absurdity, and an unforgettable supporting cast, it remains one of the most beloved comedies of the 90s—and arguably the film that made Adam Sandler a household name. He may have had a few memorable moments before this, but this was the film that put him front and center, allowing his unique blend of comedy to shine.

FUTRA DAYS is one of those films that’s difficult to dismiss entirely, even if you’re checking your watch by the halfway point. Writer-director Ryan David builds an intriguing premise—a man given the chance to travel through time to preview the outcome of a potential relationship—and then slowly drains it of urgency by focusing less on the sci-fi elements and more on the glacial tension between its characters.

AJ GOES TO THE DOG PARK is the kind of film where you're either in on the joke or you're the punchline. And if you can’t laugh at a man dramatically reacting to the closure of a dog park like it’s a national emergency, this may not be your kind of weird. But for those who can appreciate a proudly clunky, oddball comedy stitched together with more heart than budget, it’s a strangely enjoyable ride through the surreal suburbs of suburban malaise.

Romantic comedies love to ask whether love conquers all, but GHOSTED flips the question: What if the thing standing in the way of love is you? Built on the very real frustrations of dating in the digital era, this indie rom-com makes space for humor, heartbreak, and self-discovery, without losing the charm that defines the genre. While the film embraces some familiar tropes, it balances them with a refreshing honesty and emotional payoff that sticks. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very British, very romcom film, but there’s something to it, there’s a heart beneath it all that’s hard to explain.

MONSTER ISLAND isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel—it’s paying tribute to it. The latest Shudder original leans hard into the legacy of mid-century monster movies, echoing everything from CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON to ISLAND OF TERROR. But beneath its nostalgic overlay lies a modern sheen: slick cinematography, multifaceted performances, and a cultural lens that gives the familiar premise just enough of a twist to keep it interesting.

Kino Lorber’s 4K release of DANGER: DIABOLIK reminds us just how much style can accomplish when story takes a backseat. Originally released in 1968 and now restored with Dolby Vision and HDR from a 4K scan of the original negative, this chaos-fueled caper has only gained more swagger. It's a heady dose of Euro pulp sleaze, campy charm, and swinging ‘60s energy. You’re not here for realism—you're here for lasers, gas, vinyl jumpsuits, and a masked criminal who steals gold because he can.

THE WILD PARROTS OF TELEGRAPH HILL is a gentle but deeply moving story about unexpected connection, purpose, and the wildness we welcome into our lives when we least expect it. Director Judy Irving crafts an intimate portrait of Mark Bittner, a former street musician who, without trying, finds his calling among a flock of wild parrots living in San Francisco’s Telegraph Hill neighborhood.

SHANE is the Western that launched a thousand tropes—but resisted being trapped by any of them. George Stevens’ 1953 epic transcends shootouts and spurs; it's a sweeping, deeply human drama about violence, belonging, and the pain of exile masquerading as heroism. This was one of the films I watched on my journey through the book ‘1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die’ prior to completing the book, I wasn’t much of a fan of westerns, SHANE helped me to see that you can’t judge a genre by your expectations.

Paul Vecchiali’s ROSA LA ROSE, FILLE PUBLIQUE paints a portrait of life on the margins—romantic, theatrical, and unflinchingly real. Set in Paris in the 1980s, the film centers on Rosa, a sex worker who’s beloved in her corner of the city. She’s confident, joyful, and in control—until the fantasy she lives in begins to unravel after locking eyes with a stranger across a dance floor.

You think you know where it's going—until you don't. TRAVEL PLANS is the kind of short film that weaponizes brevity, using its compact runtime not to rush through a narrative but to unearth discomfort. It's about what’s said but what’s never spoken aloud. Marking the directorial debut of Zoey Sidwell, this film is sharp, quiet, and deeply unsettling in all the right ways.

There's a cold, detached rage simmering beneath the surface of THE BEAST TO DIE, a film that doesn't ask for sympathy but dares you to sit with discomfort. With its gritty 80s Tokyo setting, hypnotic anarchy, and a lead performance that lingers with you, this Japanese thriller has been restored for the first time in HD by Radiance Films—and the result is a time capsule of despair that feels alarmingly contemporary.

Kino Cult has built its brand on the bold, the bizarre, and the borderline unclassifiable—and this triple-feature release is exactly the kind of glorious nonsense I admire them for rescuing. While other labels cling to prestige and polish, Kino Cult barrels headfirst into the dregs of forgotten exploitation, unearthing artifacts that are so unapologetically weird they can’t help but earn a special place in the hearts of the curious. With MR. PETERS' PETS, EVERYBODY LOVES IT, and 50,000 B.C. (BEFORE CLOTHING), Kino offers not just a glimpse into a defunct genre but a full-blown showcase of the absurdity that defined a very particular—and very naked—slice of 1960s cinema. This is less about titillation and more about tone-deaf time capsules. And that’s exactly the appeal.

If you think you know where HALFWAY HAUNTED is headed, think again. And then think again after that. Sam Rudykoff’s blisteringly clever short film starts like a satire with ghostly flair—but by the time the credits roll, it’s evolved into something darker, stranger, and a whole lot wilder than you were expecting. This is the rare short that plays like a full-blown feature (although if you’re like me, you’re wanting more immediately once the credits start to roll), twisting the familiar haunted-house formula into something smart and gleefully unpredictable.