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From the outside, Chelsea still looks pristine—clean streets, and old money—but in Season 3 of THE CHELSEA DETECTIVE, the cracks in its polished veneer only deepen. This new run of episodes leans further into its identity as a methodical, character-driven procedural, stripping back any gimmicks in favor of solid police work, grounded personalities, and morally tangled cases. The formula hasn't changed drastically, but the tone has grown more confident, more deliberate. If you’ve been watching from the beginning, this season feels like a reward: a detective series hitting its stride.

It’s been over two decades since SWORDFISH detonated its way into theaters, and thanks to Arrow Video’s new 4K release, there’s never been a better time to reexamine the wild, stylish thrill-ride that once asked: what if hackers looked like supermodels and blew up banks in broad daylight? Directed by Dominic Sena and starring Hugh Jackman, John Travolta, Halle Berry, and Don Cheadle, SWORDFISH might not pass any cybersecurity tests, but it still delivers the glossy, high-octane fun that made it a cult favorite of the early 2000s. If you can check your realism at the door, there’s so much to enjoy here.

CRASHBOX caught me completely off guard—in the best possible way. I wasn’t familiar with Monkey House before this, but after just one spin, I wondered how I’d gone this long without hearing them. This isn’t just background music for jazz-pop enthusiasts—it’s a fully realized, finely crafted record that blends brains, groove, and heart into something genuinely exciting. If this is your first impression of the band, like it was for me, you’re in for a treat.

When an American backpacker lands in Buenos Aires, expecting adventure and perhaps a bit of romanticized self-discovery, the last thing he anticipates is becoming an unwitting performer in a politically charged underground theater group. Yet that’s exactly where he ends up in UNDERGROUND ORANGE. This flirts with satire, activism, and surreal comedy while poking at global power structures and the hypocrisy of national identity. It’s an offbeat, sometimes erratic but undeniably thought-provoking ride.

What happens when a horror story chooses tradition over thrills and contemplation over chaos? You get a film that aims to honor its real-life source material but occasionally forgets to draw the audience in. THE RITUAL is anchored in one of American history's most documented exorcism cases, opting for a grounded tone over genre theatrics. Rather than chasing supernatural spectacle, it leans heavily on restraint and solemn storytelling. That direction is deliberate, but it often lands between bold and muted, offering a take that struggles to maintain energy.

If you’re going to watch any documentary, make it this one, but be prepared for the emotional ride ahead! There’s a rare immediacy in storytelling when the subject is so compelling that the film around them only needs to observe. That’s the case here, where the focus isn’t on the world but on something far more meaningful—an honest, grounded portrayal of a young athlete whose presence is magnetic, not because of what she might achieve, but because of what she already has. JESSZILLA doesn’t rely on forced drama. It draws you in by simply allowing a real person to exist in front of the lens, and in doing so, it crafts one of the most emotionally rewarding documentaries of the year.

When an action-comedy leans too far in both directions, it risks collapsing under its ambitions. That’s the case here, where the premise has a lot going for it—government secrets, hired killers, and a mysterious protector—but the execution rarely sticks the landing. The film tries to juggle satire, suspense, and slapstick, but never fully commits to them. Instead, what could have been a punchy, stylized thriller becomes a muddled blend of concepts and erratic delivery.

What looks like a straightforward story about teenage girls growing up in the '90s gradually cracks open into something far more raw and personal. Director Jessica Rae delivers a debut that plays with expectation—what seems like a throwback drama at first becomes an intimate account of survival, self-discovery, and quiet rebellion. There’s no exaggeration here, just layered storytelling with a point of view that’s confident and grounded in real life.

What happens when a movie uses its setting not as an escape but as a cage, and reimagines the shark genre without relying on the shark as the villain? That question powers DANGEROUS ANIMALS, a genre blend that swims past surface-level thrills and aims for something more introspective. This story isn’t built around blood-in-the-water suspense but anchored in the deeper tensions of control, obsession, and the illusion of safety.

When a short film makes you laugh, smirk, and nod in recognition—all within a few minutes—you know it’s working with something special. A specific tone here feels unmistakably familiar, blending structured absurdity with the dry humor that only works when the creators fully commit. THE JUNGLE OF ACCOUNTING doesn’t aim to overwhelm its audience with punchlines or antics. Instead, it walks a careful line, crafting its comedy through nuanced character work, design choices that feel lovingly retro, and a narrative style that captures how we often mythologize our professional pasts.

When a story trusts its audience to observe rather than consume, it can be surprisingly intimate. That’s the strength in the middle of LIVE HEALTH, a short film that doesn’t rely on exposition to convey its message. Instead, it embraces the quiet discomfort of emotional, physical, and technological disconnection. What begins as a simple premise becomes a layered, perceptive exploration of the cost of compassion, especially for those tasked with offering it professionally.

Not every short film goes big, but when one does and remains on its feet, it's a project worth mentioning. With a sharp eye for irony and an otherwise off-the-beaten-path concept, this six-minute film doesn't just set out to elicit giggles—it raises real questions about control, emotional intimacy, and the hollow quest for the romantic ideal. What starts as a ridiculous setup turns into something stranger and wittier than expected without overstaying its welcome.

This film is trying for something more personal from the start. Clocking in at 43 minutes, IN THE FLESH is the kind of psychological thriller where the ambition is front and center, even if the execution occasionally stumbles. It doesn’t pretend to be perfect, but it does ask its audience to engage with it beyond surface value. From its small-scale production to its emotionally loaded premise, the film feels like an experiment with heart, rough around the edges, but grounded in a desire to explore something real.

Here’s a comedy that doesn’t just bend the rules of teen movies—it acts like it’s never heard of them. The script feels like it was scribbled during detention, passed between friends with a smirk, and somehow made it to the screen without being finished. That’s not an insult—it’s a compliment. In a genre that often feels formulaic, this one throws the formula out the window, replaces it with barely-there motivations, and dares you to find meaning in the mayhem.

Documentaries seldom feel like a reflection and a new beginning all in one, but that’s exactly the tone captured in ARCADES & LOVE SONGS: THE BALLAD OF WALTER DAY. This isn’t a walk down memory lane padded with nostalgia or a high-score victory lap. Instead, it’s a story that looks at its subject from a different angle, allowing viewers to see him outside his once-restrained frame. Known for his role in shaping competitive gaming, Walter Day returns not to defend his legacy but to chase a dream he left unfinished decades ago.