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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.

DETONATION! VIOLENT RIDERS is a film that thrives on swagger more than structure. Released in 1975 and now making its way to Blu-ray thanks to 88 Films, this Japanese biker drama offers an energetic snapshot of subcultural rebellion, dressed in leather and powered by attitude. It features high-speed rides, volatile romance, and clashes between freedom and control.

Sometimes a movie forces you to question everything you thought you knew about sharks, hot springs, and the fragile human psyche. That movie is HOTSPRING SHARKATTACK (ONSEN SHÂKU). This gloriously unhinged Japanese monster flick answers the question nobody asked: what if a prehistoric killing machine terrorized a sleepy bathhouse town like it owed the water a personal vendetta?

There’s no shortage of post-apocalyptic stories on screen, but what sets FALLOUT: SEASON ONE apart is how confidently it charges through the wreckage, blowing the dust off its video game roots to build something truly cinematic, dark, hilarious, and emotionally grounded. It’s not just an adaptation—it’s an evolution.

ALL ALONE TOGETHER is the kind of film that makes you take a second look at the credits—not just because of the narrative or the performances, but because you won’t believe college students pulled it off on a budget that could barely cover catering on a studio project. It's an unrefined gem: not flawless, undeniably compelling, and rich with risk.

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.