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MADE IN NEW JERSEY: FILMS FROM FORT LEE isn’t just a collection—it’s a resurrection of sorts. Across two Blu-ray discs, Milestone Films/Kino Lorber curates 14 early short films and two documentaries that collectively remind viewers that the story of American cinema didn’t start in Hollywood—it began in the backlots of Fort Lee, New Jersey. Spanning over a century of history, the set provides a fascinating archival deep dive and a wildly entertaining survey of the earliest moving pictures.

THE PRESIDENT’S WIFE takes real events, real people, and a lot of satirical seasoning and whips up a political comedy that never pretends to be definitive. Directed by Léa Domenach in her feature debut, the film positions itself between affectionate character study and pointed send-up. Catherine Deneuve (one of my all-time favorite actors) anchors the experience as the titular Madame Chirac. The result is stylish and sharp, but it often feels more interested in one-liners than in unpacking the deeper ironies of power, gender, and public life.

In HANDSOME HARRY, a man’s life is interrupted by an unexpected request, and from that moment, the truth—long buried and conveniently distorted—begins to unravel. Directed by Bette Gordon, this deeply personal drama follows a Vietnam veteran reckoning with his past, not in pursuit of forgiveness, but to understand the cost of denying who you are and what you’ve done.

Sometimes the most terrifying threats aren’t lurking in the shadows—they’re waiting in plain sight, hidden in the wind, tremors in rock, and the psychological tension of a place no human was meant to be. That’s the gamble this horror thriller takes, placing the viewer high above the earth on a deadly climb and asking: what happens when the unknown joins you on the ascent?

A stillness to WOLF AND DOG speaks louder than most films with three times the dialogue. With its dreamlike textures and grounded sense of place, Cláudia Varejão’s narrative debut crafts an atmosphere where emotions boil beneath the surface until they shift the entire landscape. Set on the isolated island of São Miguel in the Azores, this queer coming-of-age drama is both tender and raw, full of contradictions that mirror the very forces shaping its characters’ lives.

Sometimes the scariest stories aren’t dystopian futures or imagined horrors—they’re pulled straight from our everyday reality. That’s the unsettling energy this film channels as it builds its world, brick by brick, out of a distinctly American story. It’s a movie that feels like it could have been overheard at a gas station or shared in the depths of an internet forum, yet it never leans too heavily into caricature. It walks a delicate line, dramatizing radicalization without outright condemning or glorifying it—and that’s where it gets its power and its controversy.

What starts as a promising exposé of a globally entrenched economic ideology stumbles not because it lacks substance, but because it struggles with how that substance is delivered. THE INVISIBLE DOCTRINE: THE SECRET HISTORY OF NEOLIBERALISM outlines how a complex political and economic belief system took over a century and continues shaping everything from public policy to personal identity. At its core, the film raises critical questions about power, perception, and collective agency. But it’s hard to ignore the nagging contradiction at the heart of its visual presentation—a contradiction that ultimately undercuts its strongest arguments.

It doesn’t take long for GATE OF FLESH to make you feel like you’ve wandered into a world already lost to time, not just postwar Tokyo, but a fever dream where survival is dictated by how much you’re willing to give away. Hideo Gosha’s 1988 adaptation of Taijirō Tamura’s novel doesn’t just revisit the source material—it rips it open, covers it with 1980s grit, and dares you to look away. Forget the glamour of period accuracy. This version trades it for something messier, meaner, and emotionally unfiltered.

Reality television has always flirted with chaos, but this film doesn’t flirt—it leans into it and holds a mirror to our most voyeuristic impulses. What starts as a behind-the-scenes look at the workings of unscripted drama transforms into a character study about what happens when personal boundaries collapse under the pressure of public exposure. It's a film about blurred lines: between entertainment and exploitation, between performance and truth, and between who we think we are and who we become under the spotlight.

There’s a fine line between justice and vengeance, and LAW ABIDING CITIZEN ensures you feel every inch of it. More than a decade after its theatrical debut, this hard-hitting thriller still manages to stir debate—and thanks to Lionsgate’s new 4K Ultra HD Steelbook release, it looks and sounds sharper than ever.

What begins with clinical paperwork and a knock on the door becomes a story about resilience, control, and the strength buried in those who’ve been overlooked. This thriller isn’t about the flash—it’s about the fight that unfolds when the rules are used against the vulnerable, and how that fight doesn’t always come dressed in action tropes or speeches.

There’s something oddly satisfying about a film that knows it’s a little off the rails but moves forward anyway. That’s the curious energy pulsing through STEALING PULP FICTION—a scrappy heist comedy where ambition overshadows logic, and enthusiasm trumps expertise. It’s a knowingly disorganized story about people who adore cinema just enough to make the worst decisions possible. While not every aspect lands, there’s something enjoyable in watching it try.

There are cult films… and then there are the kind of movies that feel like they escaped from a fever dream at a VHS rental store in an alternate timeline. TERMINUS belongs to the latter. Directed by cinematographer-turned-madman Pierre-William Glenn, this 1987 French-American hybrid is getting a high-def debut courtesy of the MVD Rewind Collection, and somehow—somehow—it’s kind of delightful in its B-movie bonkers way.

Faith, trauma, and the shadows we can’t shake—this film drifts through all three with a deliberate unease. It doesn’t race toward revelation or hide behind itself; instead, it moves like its central character: cautiously, searchingly, and often in silence. With its slow-burn structure and emotionally haunted protagonist, this story sidesteps catharsis to examine what’s left behind when belief collapses. Identity needs to be rebuilt from the ground up.

If Rube Goldberg had directed HOME ALONE and cast a rodent as the mastermind, you’d land somewhere in the neighborhood of MOUSE HUNT. Gleefully over-the-top and bursting at the seams with slapstick lunacy, this 1997 comedy from first-time director Gore Verbinski doesn’t just flirt with chaos—it buys it dinner, marries it, and moves into a house booby-trapped by fate and a single unstoppable mouse.