Jason Blum’s renowned horror production company branches out with Welcome to the Blumhouse, a series of four films on Amazon Prime that straddle the line between genres. Gathering a diverse smattering of talent and storytelling, the collection runs the gamut of terror with domestic drama, tech parables, and traditional frights, but in the end, Welcome to the Blumhouse - with a single exception - tastes more like stale leftovers than a fresh meal. Minor spoilers ahead…

Because of COVID-19 pandemic this year, it was impossible for me to write full-length reviews for everything I saw at NYFF. So, here’s a special edition of Strange Harbors Capsule Reviews, covering an epic philosophical debate, the premiere of director Steve McQueen’s Small Axe anthology, and new films from Jia Zhangke and Sofia Coppola.

Azazel Jacobs directs a memorably salty Michelle Pfeiffer in his adaptation of Patrick deWitt’s acclaimed novel, French Exit. The story of a wealthy heiress who moves to Paris with her son in the wake of financial insolvency, the film hews closely to its source material, but has difficulty accessing the text’s spirit. Even with Pfeiffer’s wickedly funny performance, an eclectic supporting cast, and deWitt’s own screenplay, French Exit wobbles in a scattered capriciousness that’s difficult to shake.

Acclaimed Spanish filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar makes his English-language debut with The Human Voice. A raw and emotional one-hander starring Tilda Swinton, the short film expertly combines an exquisitely staged production with a fiery element, breathing cinematic life into Jean Cocteau’s stage play. A mesmerizing cross section of Almodóvar’s directorial style, Swinton’s artful performance, and Cocteau’s monodrama, The Human Voice is a tour de force on multiple levels.

Welcome to my coverage of 2020’s New York Film Festival! Very much like TIFF before it, NYFF is a major predictor of Academy Awards success, screening some of the best films the world has to offer. This year’s festival sees a variety of special film events, such as a 4K restoration of Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love, the premiere of Steve McQueen’s Small Axe anthology, and Pedro Almodóvar’s English language debut. This year marks my first year as accredited press, and I’m so excited to be able to review a selection of films from the festival. You can find my entire coverage here. All reviews in viewing order…

A psychedelic cocktail of gruesome violence and cerebral sci-fi, Brandon Cronenberg’s Possessor pushes the boundaries of the body horror genre pioneered by his father. For his sophomore feature, Cronenberg crafts a tech-fueled nightmare sprung from his perverse vision, utilizing the dueling talents of Andrea Riseborough and Christopher Abbot to deliver a twisted, body-swapping experience unlike any other. Minor spoilers ahead…

A vérité mix of fiction and documentary, Chloé Zhao’s enthralling Nomadland captures a lost sliver of American life. Frances McDormand is astounding as the understated Fern, bringing a quiet dignity to one of the most soulful performances of the year. Adapted from Jessica Bruder’s book, Nomadland jettisons melodrama and traditional narrative tensions, choosing instead to explore life on the road with lightly-fictionalized versions of real-life nomads. A graceful elegy and a hopeful portrait, Nomadland - like Zhao’s The Rider before it - is a new standard for the American western.

With its nonsensical story, unlikeable characters, and tawdry effects, Shadow in the Cloud is a flight better off grounded. Chloë Grace Moretz does her best to anchor this installment of TIFF’s Midnight Madness, but it’s mostly a weightless and messy endeavor that squanders its potential. Minor spoilers ahead…

One of only three titles in TIFF’s Midnight Madness slate this year, Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli’s Violation is a haunting and disturbing deconstruction of the rape-revenge genre. Exacting to watch and remarkably complex, the film eschews formula and withholds catharsis to chilling effect, delivering a horror experience that is as harrowing as it is challenging. Minor spoilers ahead…

Vanessa Kirby shines in Kornél Mundruczó’s and Kata Wéber’s Pieces of a Woman, a devastating drama that details the act of living in the wake of unimaginable tragedy. The film finds considerable buoyancy in its awards-worthy performances, but struggles to escape the shadow of its searing single-take opening scene. Unable to commit to its most powerful thread, Pieces of a Woman flounders in its scattered and callow narratives. Minor spoilers below…

My TIFF 2020 coverage starts here! Regina King, in her first full-length feature, crafts a dialogue-driven triumph grounded by evocative performances, powerful debate, and a gripping timeliness. Following four Black icons of the 20th Century as they navigate the winds of change in a semi-fictional meeting of the minds, One Night in Miami hews close to its stage play roots, translating Kemp Powers’ theater into rousing, intimate cinema. Minor spoilers ahead…

My coverage of 2020’s Toronto International Film Festival begins here! One of the most prestigious film festivals, TIFF is a major predictor of Academy Awards success, screening some of the best films the world has to offer. From documentaries to dramas to its horror-leaning Midnight Madness slate, TIFF is a cinematic experience unlike any other. This year marks my first year as accredited press, and I’m so excited to be able to review a selection of films from the festival. You can find my entire coverage here. All reviews in viewing order…

Bryan Bertino’s new possession horror film, The Dark and the Wicked, is a merciless gauntlet of grief, trauma, and violence. Centered around a nerve-fraying performance by Marin Ireland, the film is rife with effective scares and blistering violence that become increasingly heavy. The Dark and the Wicked is birds of a feather with the director’s cult debut, The Strangers, and while the film takes the home invasion concept to a new place, it struggles to rekindle its predecessor’s razor-sharp tautness. Minor spoilers ahead…

Mulan, which saw its unprecedented streaming release on September 4th in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, rises above the recent spate of facile live-action Disney remakes by trying something a little different, but the bar is so low that it barely feels like a victory. And while there’s something undoubtedly stirring about seeing an all-Asian cast in such a high-profile tentpole film, Mulan’s representation only extends to the actors in front of the camera, resulting in an end product that is woefully dispirited and underwritten. In the end, by glossing over rich historical detail and ignoring an era of atypically empowered women, the film’s all-white producers and writers are never more apparent, especially when tackling what could have been the story’s most fascinating addition: Gong Li’s sorceress villain, Xian Lang. Minor spoilers ahead…

A cleverly affecting mix of environmental and cosmic horror, The McManus brothers’ The Block Island Sound is one of the best surprises of Fantasia Festival this year. With its standout performances and adroit pacing, the film ratchets up a creeping atmosphere of dread and paranoia, all in service of a powerful allegory for mental illness, inherited ailments, and the deteriorating state of our world.

Deeper and more pensive than your average video game adaptation, John Hsu’s Detention aims to shine a revealing light on a violent and oft-ignored time period in Taiwanese history. A love story, a horror movie, and a political thriller all wrapped up in a single package, the film delivers a stirring history lesson and an incisive commentary on the evils of authoritarianism, but its fractured and ride-the-rails ghost story does it no favors. Minor spoilers ahead…

One of a handful of documentary features in this year’s Fantasia Festival lineup, Feels Good Man chronicles the evolution (or devolution) of an innocuous cartoon character into an uncontrollable symbol of racism, misogyny, and the alt-right. As told by documentarian Arthur Jones, the film paints a tragic portrait of meme culture and of artist Matt Furie as he grapples with his corrupted creation. Despite some odd pacing and a tonally inconsistent focus on Furie himself, Feels Good Man is a timely and gripping examination of the dark side of the web. Minor spoilers ahead…

The only anthology in Fantasia Festival’s 2020 lineup, director Ryan Spindell’s The Mortuary Collection is a haunting love letter to vintage horror and the pulp comics that inspire it. With Clancy Brown chewing up the scenery just like the horror hosts of yore, the film delightfully reaches back to recall the frightful morality plays of Tales from the Crypt and Creepshow. Expertly crafted and gorgeous to boot, The Mortuary Collection is the most fun I’ve had at Fantasia so far, and a film that will likely be a Halloween mainstay for years to come. Minor spoilers ahead…