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Some films follow the rules. Others rewrite them. AMERICAN TRASH, written, directed, and led by Robert LaSardo, falls into the latter category—an unapologetically personal, emotionally charged meditation that blends abstract storytelling with real-world scars. It’s not here to entertain in a conventional sense. It’s here to speak—quietly, painfully, and often beautifully—to the people willing to listen.

Even in a decade fueled by macho swagger and explosive vengeance, COBRA stood out like a clenched fist in a leather glove. Helmed by director George P. Cosmatos and fronted by a no-nonsense Sylvester Stallone, the film encapsulates the 1980s action spectacle where bullets fly, bad guys growl, and the hero says more with his sunglasses than his dialogue. It’s ridiculous, excessive, grimy, and at times self-parodic—but in the way that could only be born from an era that celebrated brute force as cinematic gospel.

SPLINTER offers a grounded, emotionally complex drama wrapped in the façade of a psychological mystery. Though it may flirt with being a thriller at times, its power lies not in suspense or spectacle, but in emotional confrontation—and the ways unresolved trauma seeps into the cracks of adulthood. As Rio Contrada’s directorial debut, this is a film with ambition, sincerity, and more than a few surprising turns, making it a rewarding experience for audiences who are willing to sit with its discomfort.

Ella M. Hayes doesn’t shy away from the messier parts of life. In WITCH'S BREW, she gives us a heroine who isn’t perfect, polished, or particularly patient—but she’s magnetic, independent, and human in all the best and worst ways. Set in upstate New York, the story leans into its witchy aesthetic while grounding its magic in real emotion: power, validation, escape, connection.

An artifact of early 1970s martial arts cinema, THE TATTOOED DRAGON has been brushed off and polished up for a new audience, thanks to Eureka’s restoration. And while the Blu-ray looks great and offers a healthy serving of extras for kung fu collectors, the film is a curious mix of nostalgic charm and inconsistency. It’s easy to appreciate what this movie represents—a bridge between eras, between studios, and between martial arts legends—but a little harder to overlook its shifts between goofy comedy and bloody justice.

Jonathan Berman’s COMMUNE isn’t here to romanticize the 1960s dream. It’s a grounded, occasionally chaotic, often funny, and ultimately reflective look at what happens when idealism meets real-life logistics—and how the people involved in that collision try to make sense of it all. Returning in a 20th anniversary restoration, the film offers a compelling, if uneven, meditation on the intersection of politics, personal freedom, and communal responsibility, framed through Black Bear Ranch's experiment.

With MUSIC FOR MICRODOSING, Steven Halpern delivers a sonic journey designed not for performance or background listening but for immersion, intention, and awareness. True to the spirit of its title, this album is deeply rooted in the wellness space, building a bridge between sound and state of mind. Whether or not you engage in literal microdosing, Halpern’s latest effort aims to elevate your experience of consciousness itself.

With SLEEP SOUNDLY VOL. 3, Steven Halpern returns to one of his most vital missions: guiding listeners into deep, restorative rest. In a world that never seems to power down, this album functions less as a musical statement and more as a subversive tool—one that actively supports sleep, recovery, and the emotional relief that so many of us struggle to achieve. It’s functional music in the best possible sense: designed with care, executed with precision, and gently insistent in its purpose.

In EEPHUS, director Carson Lund doesn’t just recreate a time and place—he lets us linger in it. Set in a 90s Massachusetts that’s seen better days but still has stories to tell, this feature thrives in its patience, awkward silences, and the timeless ritual of community gathering under the guise of sport. It’s a film that doesn’t push you toward emotion; instead, it lobs it like a slow, curving pitch—seemingly easy to read, but surprisingly hard to forget once it lands.

VIDEOHEAVEN doesn’t just honor the video rental era, it resurrects it. Alex Ross Perry’s ambitious documentary does not follow the typical nostalgia-doc blueprint. There are no teary-eyed talking heads or fuzzy recreations of childhood memories. Instead, this is a cinematic thesis—structured, argued, and illustrated with methodical intensity, yet pulsing with deeply felt personal conviction. Ironically, the film feels like one of those educational documentaries you would have watched in school, but in the absolute best way possible.

Alicia Silverstone has never been one to back down from a defining role, and in PRETTY THING, she reclaims center stage with all the force and sharpness of a woman who knows exactly what she’s doing. What starts as an intoxicating affair between a powerful executive and her younger lover spirals into something far darker—a game neither can control. Director Justin Kelly channels the erotic thrillers of the '80s and '90s but updates the formula with a more self-aware, power-conscious lens.

STOMACH IT certainly doesn’t lack conviction. In just 13 minutes, writer-director Peter Klausner attempts to unpack grief, trauma, and emotional detachment through the lens of psychological and body horror. While the shorts’ atmosphere and concept are commendable, the result doesn’t always hit with the force or clarity it aims for. That said, there’s enough style and sincerity behind the camera to keep it engaging, even when it doesn’t quite land (for me).

If your home could talk, what would it say? In NEUROVENGE, director Mina Soliman's debut feature, the house does more than talk—it listens, manipulates, and eventually…. This sci-fi thriller imagines an AI-powered home system not as a convenience but as a calculated and increasingly sinister presence in the life of a grieving teenager and her fractured family. If you’ve seen 2022’s TRADER and enjoyed it, you’ll likely enjoy the ride here. The film was co-written by the writer/director of that film, and though entirely different, you can feel a similarity there!

There’s something satisfying about watching a show that knows exactly what it wants to be. SERIES 4 of MY LIFE IS MURDER doesn’t try to reinvent itself—it doesn’t need to. Instead, it doubles down on its strongest assets: intelligent mysteries, warm characters, and the irresistible presence of Lucy Lawless as Alexa Crowe. But this time, it also finds something a little deeper. Beneath the humor and procedural structure, there’s a personal reckoning building in the background, and it gives the season just enough weight to elevate the experience without weighing it down.

There’s nothing shy about VANILLA. It doesn’t ease into its premise or whisper sweet nothings to the audience. This short comedy is loud, crass, proudly inappropriate, and knows exactly what it’s doing. It's the kind of film that looks you straight in the eye while getting undressed and dares you to look away. Self-awareness isn’t a side effect here—it’s baked into the entire experience. VANILLA thrives on confronting the audience with its blend of uncomfortable humor, kink-friendly roleplay, and relentless genre subversion. It’s not just a sex comedy—it’s a meta-kink carnival where the punchline is how far it's willing to go.