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There’s giant dramatic fallout or grand romantic gesture in WAVERLY—just two people trying to hold on to each other as the world quietly pushes them apart. Clocking in at just 17 minutes, this short drama lands a surprisingly potent emotional punch, grounded in subtle performances and a setting that feels lived-in rather than staged. Co-directed by Marie-Pier Diamond and Gilles Plouffe, it’s the kind of story that doesn’t ask for your attention—it earns it. It’s rare to see a short that doesn’t try to extend beyond its framing. This is exactly what it sets out to be and knows that from the first frame.

TOUCH ME doesn’t care if you’re ready for the journey ahead. It just grabs hold and drags you into a neon-soaked spiral of grief, desire, and seduction, where logic is fluid and feelings are uncomfortable, and dare I say, sticky—often literally. For writer-director Addison Heimann, last seen at Fantasia with his 2022 breakout HYPOCHONDRIAC, this is a full-blown eruption of genre chaos that somehow still circles back to something deeply personal.

What happens when rebellion melts into horror and rage gets mixed into something unnervingly sweet? SUGAR ROT explodes onto the screen with all the subtlety of a Molotov cocktail in a candy store. This is body horror with purpose, satire soaked in syrup and spiked with venom — a film that dares to look obscene, feel grotesque, and shout back at every force trying to control the female body.

THE SCHOOL DUEL demands your attention, shakes it, and leaves it wrecked. Set in a twisted, secessionist Florida where gun control is outlawed and school shootings have metastasized into a normalized part of adolescence (okay, so maybe not too far from reality), Todd Wiseman Jr.’s debut feature isn’t science fiction so much as it is prophecy. It takes the notion of "what if things keep going this way" and strips it of metaphor, replacing it with state-sponsored bloodsport—and still, somehow, it doesn’t feel that far-fetched.

There’s something potent about watching a person prepare to say goodbye—not to someone, but to something that has shaped their identity for decades. In BARBIE BOOMER, that "something" is a collection of dolls. But Marc Joly-Corcoran’s documentary makes it clear early on: these aren’t just toys. They’re time capsules, symbols of imagination, and witnesses to an entire life. Through the lens of his cousin, Sylvie Longpré, Joly-Corcoran captures a deeply personal and surprisingly universal story about memory, loss, and the unspoken emotions that connect us with the things we love.

In MESSY LEGENDS, the party never quite ends—it just changes, spirals, and explodes into something far more unhinged. Expanding on their acclaimed 2023 short, co-directors Kelly Kay Hurcomb and James Watts deliver a full-length, chaotic deep dive into Montreal’s nightlife, slacker culture, and the millennial generation’s lingering malaise. What begins as a loose, vibrant love letter to the Plateau’s underground scene turns into something messier, more introspective, and at times unexpectedly vulnerable.

It works, even though it shouldn’t, it really shouldn’t! Simon Glassman’s BUFFET INFINITY doesn’t just bend the rules—it microwaves them on high until they bubble and explode. What begins as a satire of small-town local television quickly spirals into a hallucinatory, absurdist descent into the mind of a community being devoured by its own identity. This is weird cinema at its best: committed, chaotic, and unnervingly hypnotic.

SHRIMP FRIED RICE weaponizes weird into a full-blown, puppet-powered battle royale between crustacean and rodent. In just twelve minutes, Dylan Pun’s wild short manages to cram in more laughs, ingenuity, and full-blown madness than many feature-length comedies even attempt. It’s a culinary chaos warzone where egos boil over, loyalties flip like flapjacks, and the rice isn’t the only thing being fried.

A GRAND MOCKERY is the kind of film that crawls under your skin and refuses to leave quietly. Directed and co-written by Adam C. Briggs and Sam Dixon, this surreal Australian feature explodes with gritty sincerity, hallucinatory dread, and a uniquely regional sense of decay. Shot entirely on Super 8mm, it’s as if the film stock itself is rotting before your eyes—perfectly mirroring the mental deterioration of its central character, Josie.

HAUNTED MOUNTAINS: THE YELLOW TABOO doesn’t rush to frighten you—it drifts, floats, and occasionally vanishes into its own shadow. It's a film as stubbornly ethereal as the legends it draws from, positioning itself somewhere between experimental cinema, mythological meditation, and slow-burning horror. Rain Wu’s film is not trying to fit a conventional mold, and that’s both its strength and its Achilles’ heel.

There’s a fine line between daring and disorganized, and ANYTHING THAT MOVES spends much of its runtime trying to balance on it. Shot on Super 16mm and drenched in both neon light and bodily fluids, the latest offering from Alex Phillips aims to be provocative, but often ends up tangled in its stylized excess. From the first frame, this is a film that’s designed to challenge your expectations, your comfort zone, and occasionally your patience.

HELLCAT wastes no time pulling you into its world of uncertainty. A woman wakes up in a moving trailer with no idea where she is, how she got there, or why she has a wound on her side. That’s the setup, and the clock starts ticking almost immediately. What follows is a lean, paranoia-fueled thriller that gradually shifts into something more emotionally grounded—and ultimately more unsettling. It’s a strong debut feature from writer-director Brock Bodell, and a showcase for Dakota Gorman, whose performance helps anchor the film as it veers from grittiness to psychological horror.

MOTHER OF FLIES is a return—and a reckoning. With this latest experience, the Adams family doesn't just go back to their roots; they dig them up, twist them, and expose every worm underneath, burying it with rocks. John Adams, Zelda Adams, and Toby Poser once again write, direct, and star, continuing the familiar filmmaking style that’s defined their work: the family that slays together, stays together. It’s never clearer than now how much that bond shines through on screen. But this time, the stakes feel more personal, the horror more real, and the artistry more purposeful.

Some horror films scream; this one snarls. THE SERPENT’S SKIN might clock in at just over 80 minutes, but it packs in enough fury, vulnerability, and rebellion to fill an entire franchise. Alice Maio Mackay’s sixth feature is her most assured and emotionally volatile work yet (and that’s saying something because she has one hell of a filmography)—a supernatural queer horror tale that wields witchcraft, body horror, and heartbreak with equal urgency. It’s brutal, funny, and unmistakably punk in spirit, refusing to flatten its characters into metaphors or reduce their trauma to exposition.

The pressures of assimilation, especially for immigrant teens, are rarely presented with a story this powerful. FOREIGNER captures a time when low-rise jeans and sitcom reruns ruled pop culture, but reimagines that familiar coming-of-age formula through a supernatural horror lens. Ava Maria Safai’s directorial debut dares to blend pastel-filtered aesthetics with the creeping dread of cultural erasure, delivering a film that’s equal parts satire and psychological nightmare. It does all of this with very little “traditional horror” and with a focus on fear, anger, and judgment.

THE BEARDED GIRL may sound like the setup for something whimsical, but what it delivers instead is a stripped-down, emotionally honest coming-of-age story about the weight of legacy, the longing for normalcy, and the cost of pretending to be something you’re not—even if that something was working just fine for everyone else.

There’s a kind of horror that’s born not from monsters or ghosts, but from the absurdity of our obsessions. HEADCASE doesn’t just see that—it dives into it face first and comes back smiling. In just a handful of minutes, director Spencer Zimmerman delivers a viciously smart short that takes on influencer culture with the kind of unflinching creativity you don’t often see in projects about the world of false idols. It’s funny, unsettling, and bizarre in all the right ways—and the final act transforms the experience into something far bigger than its runtime suggests.

With its six-minute runtime and nonstop unapologetic chaos, LE TOUR DE CANADA doesn't just wink at stereotypes—it barrels straight through them on two wheels. This proudly weird and artistically stylized short from director John Hollands careens across Canada in a frenzy of rear projection, archival oddities, animated mayhem, bravado, and fish decapitation. And yes, it is every bit as strange—and strangely endearing—as that sounds.

Homeownership might not come with a survival manual, but it should. This chaotic genre blend, where everyone's suburban dreams are immediately ambushed by fine print and a very hands-on homeowners association. With a tight runtime and an unapologetically bizarre tone, this indie horror-comedy spins a smart, blood-soaked tale out of one of the most mundane rites of passage—moving into your first house.

This film offers up a fully loaded gut punch to conventional storytelling. Set in the mid-'90s and soaked in grunge-era angst, it blends creative burnout, dream logic, and experimental visuals into one heady mix. It’s loud, it’s unfiltered, and whether or not you’re on board, it never stops trying to shake something loose.

Trigger warning, this film deals with some dark themes, especially in terms of what does and doesn’t constitute rape. It’s essential to make sure you’ve prepared yourself accordingly. I had no clue what I was getting myself into here, and that’s how I like it. ME AND MY VICTIM dives into the turbulent and textured world of “Maurane” and Billy Pedlow’s unique relationship, painting a vivid portrait of urban love set against the backdrop of city life in Montreal and New York. These locations are dynamic characters in their own right, each adding a layer of complexity to the narrative. You can only have experiences in places like this. Described as an experimental film, I think this is almost a biographical interview documentary hybrid.

This film WILL make you uncomfortable, make you mad, and challenge you to think outside the box! (if it doesn’t, you may want to consider therapy) BLACK EYED SUSAN is a cinematic excursion into the shadowy crossroads of advanced AI and human emotion, effortlessly blending gritty realism with a speculative narrative. Director Scooter McCrae returns after a two-decade hiatus to probe the ethical labyrinth surrounding a humanoid robot designed to experience human-like emotions, shot through the lens of Super 16 film that gives the tale a haunting, timeless quality.

The true sign of success for a short film is a short that doesn’t feel like it. This film, clocking in at just 14 minutes, feels like an entire feature when looking back at it and thinking about the story. At a seemingly innocent fraternity gathering, Judy’s (Cailyn Rice) night transforms into an uncanny ordeal in FACES. In this film, director Blake Simon masterfully intertwines the perceived innocence of everyday life with supernatural elements. The film stands out for its deep dive into the psyche of its characters, magnified through their encounters with a menacing entity that not only threatens their existence but reflects their identity crises. Simon’s approach elevates horror, melding psychological intrigue with classic motifs to explore the themes of self and fear in compelling new ways.

In the heart of the film DIRTY BAD WRONG, we find a vivid portrayal of human resilience shadowed by the stark realities of a mother striving to provide the ultimate birthday bash against a backdrop of personal and economic struggle. This narrative explores the complex interplay between societal expectations and personal sacrifice. What extremes would you be willing to go to for the ones you love?