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It’s not every day a zombie movie sets its sights on fan culture and manages to both celebrate and roast it at the same time. ZOMBIECON VOL. 1 lands somewhere between chaos and commentary, blending camp, carnage, and cosplay in a world that feels absurdly heightened and yet oddly timely. While it doesn’t always stick the landing, this genre-mashing indie horror comedy charges forward with confidence, buoyed by a cast that’s enjoying themselves and a concept bold enough to stand out in an overcrowded undead landscape.

There’s a unique bravery in silence, particularly in a time when shouting seems to dominate every corner of modern discourse. DIVIA, directed by Dmytro Hreshko, doesn’t whisper so much as it allows the earth itself to breathe. It offers no commentary, no narration, no voice guiding you through its 79-minute meditation. Instead, it trusts the viewer to witness, absorb, and feel the unspoken weight of what war leaves behind—and what may slowly grow in its aftermath.

What does it mean to love across barriers—barriers of religion, orientation, ability, or communication? That question pulses through the heart of A QUIET LOVE, a quietly profound documentary that gives voice—visually, emotionally, and metaphorically—to three Deaf couples whose stories are as personal as they are universally moving. Directed by Garry Keane, the film is not simply a collection of narratives; it's a rich and immersive experience that transforms the screen into a space of shared empathy, offering viewers a perspective rarely depicted with such authenticity and care.

MARLEE MATLIN: NOT ALONE ANYMORE is more than a tribute—it’s a reclamation. Directed by Shoshannah Stern, the film gives Matlin the space and the language to tell her story on her terms, finally. For a woman whose life has often been filtered through interpreters, interviews, and assumptions, this documentary presents something long overdue: full autonomy. This is her story, as she tells it.

In a landscape where extremism and ideology often get boiled down to caricature, SOVEREIGN emerges as the exception—one that refuses to offer easy answers. What initially appeared to be a standard direct-to-streaming thriller, complete with clipped-out characters pointing in different directions for the poster art, and a vague title, instead delivers a harrowing meditation on radicalization, family loyalty, and the tragic consequences of distorted freedom. Anchored by a career-defining performance from Nick Offerman, SOVEREIGN is one of the most emotionally jarring and socially urgent films of the year.

Beata Parkanová’s TINY LIGHTS is a quiet triumph in restrained storytelling, bringing deep emotional resonance without ever raising its voice. Centering the entire film around six-year-old Amálka’s perspective, Parkanová doesn't just direct a narrative—she reconstructs a memory, crafting an experience that feels suspended in time. It's a thoughtful meditation on the moment when innocence begins to fade, not from cruelty, but from the subtle complications of adulthood glimpsed before a child is ready.

A new home. A new beginning. A fresh chance. However, in PUSH, that promise quickly turns into a high-stress scenario built on limitations, psychological dread, and an incredibly vulnerable main character. The concept is strong. The tension is built in. Unfortunately, the film only delivers on part of its premise, serving up a lean, effective horror thriller that never quite realizes its full potential.

Set across six episodes and soaked in sun, SUSPICIOUS MINDS (LADRONES: LA TIARA DE SANTA ÁGUEDA) SEASON 1 is less concerned with reinventing genre formulas than it is with twisting them around two people whose chemistry is as dangerous as any alarm system. It's a series that thrives on contrasts—glamour versus grit, strategy versus chaos, and a love story entwined within a high-stakes con job.

ZOMBIES 4: DAWN OF THE VAMPIRES marks a clear shift for the Disney franchise that began as a peppy tale of zombie–human coexistence and Romeo & Juliet style forbidden love. Four films in, and the message of empathy remains intact—but the approach feels different. Not worse, just… older. And maybe that’s the point. After following Zed (Milo Manheim) and Addison (Meg Donnelly) through high school, werewolf turf wars, and alien arrivals, this fourth entry doesn’t quite reboot the series. Still, it certainly caters to a slightly more mature crowd.

When you’re a lifelong Blink-182 fan, anything with Tom DeLonge’s name attached carries a little extra weight. That might be why MONSTERS OF CALIFORNIA instantly shot to the top of my must-watch list for me. DeLonge has been vocal for years about his belief in UFOs, government cover-ups, and the importance of looking beyond what we’re told. So when he steps behind the camera for his directorial debut, it’s not surprising that the result is part sci-fi thriller, part punk-fueled rally cry, and part teen mischief movie. What is surprising is how sincere and charming it ultimately proves to be, despite having rough edges.

There’s something unexpectedly moving about watching a band that once ruled alternative radio airwaves pull back the curtain after thirty years. GIVE ME A WORD: THE COLLECTIVE SOUL STORY may be modest in ambition, but its honesty and genuine affection for the music—and the men behind it—elevate it far above the standard rock documentary fare. In director Joseph Rubinstein’s hands, the story of Ed and Dean Roland and their bandmates is presented with care, compassion, and just enough raw honesty to make it stick.

Sometimes a documentary doesn’t need to break dive into spectacle to make an impact—it just needs to be honest and fearless. That’s exactly where BANNED TOGETHER goes, and then it takes one step further. With a confidence that never veers into melodrama, it puts a spotlight on a growing crisis in public education. It lets the camera roll while teenagers try to clean up the mess left behind by adults who are either too afraid or too complicit to act. The result is a story that’s as current as it's personal, and one that never forgets how important it is to speak up when others are trying to rewrite the rules in silence.

Just when you thought dessert couldn’t be deadly, THE STUFF oozed into your nightmares—and your fridge. Larry Cohen’s bonkers consumerism satire disguised as a mutant dessert thriller is exactly the cult insanity that thrives under 4K restoration. Equal parts horror, comedy, conspiracy thriller, and low-calorie fever dream, this 1985 oddity serves up more goopy weirdness than anyone asked for, and that’s kind of the point.

MIA opens with a missing person and unspoken grief, but it quickly signals that what’s missing might go far beyond just one girl. Luis Ferrer’s psychological thriller walks a tightrope between trust and paranoia, grounding its tension in a family teetering on collapse. Rather than succumbing to genre spectacle or cheap thrills, the film turns inward, lingering in dark rooms, whispered conversations, and silent glances that speak louder than any chase scene ever could. Normally, I dislike movies shot with minimal lighting, but it works to the film's benefit in nearly every way.