The Most Underrated Movies Of 2023

Sometimes, it's staggering to consider how some quality movies slipped through the cracks of the general public. Other times, it's a lot more understandable why certain motion pictures never had a chance at securing widespread notoriety. Take the 2023 horror movie "Sick," which debuted not in theaters but on the streaming service Peacock. No wonder most people weren't able to watch and appreciate this movie considering its streaming home. While the release plan of "Sick" left something to be desired, the feature itself was a rock-solid piece of scary cinema. Written by Katelyn Crabb and "Scream" veteran Kevin Williamson and directed by John Hyams, "Sick" follows a pair of friends who head out to a lavish cabin during the COVID-19 pandemic only to end up stalked by a masked killer.

While other titles like "Locked Down" have crumbled under the weight of trying to make an appealing genre movie about the COVID-19 pandemic, "Sick" manages to demonstrate real creativity in these confines. Its most inspired touch is leaning into an innately stripped-down cast to really dig into the characters and the extended scary set pieces. A restrained scope just benefits "Sick" rather than taking it down. Plus, Hyams excels as a visualist here, with his lively camerawork adding tons to the tense atmosphere of this movie. Though it was buried away on Peacock, "Sick" deserved way more attention for its accomplishments. 

Despite being a part of a franchise that previously made nearly $300 million worldwide across just two movies, "Magic Mike's Last Dance" came and went without leaving much of a pop culture impact in its theatrical release at the start of 2023. That's not hugely surprising given that the feature isn't quite as much of an extraordinary bolt out of the blue as "Magic Mike XXL" and its first two acts desperately needed an extra jolt of energy. But sometimes, a good finish is all that's necessary to make an evening memorable. In the case of "Magic Mike's Last Dance," its climax depicting a variety of lavish strip routines is plenty to boost the quality of the entire feature up a couple of notches.

Between the imaginative costumes, richly detailed choreography, and a dance routine that sees leading man Channing Tatum parading around with a lady in an interior rainstorm, "Magic Mike's Last Dance" caps this franchise off with a mighty bang. Plus, even before this unforgettable crescendo, "Last Dance" has its fair share of commendable attributes, including the film's willingness not just to retread the same kind of storylines explored in its predecessors. It doesn't hurt that Salma Hayek remains as magnetic of a performer as ever and a more than welcome addition to this franchise's cast. "Magic Mike's Last Dance" won't be everyone's cup of tea, but that final half-hour certainly works hard for the money and then some. 

It's always remarkable to see a feature-length directorial debut just bursting with personality and skill. From the get-go, these artists demonstrate a commendable grasp of their artform and signal an exciting and promising future. Such is the case with A.V. Rockwell, who transitioned from short films to feature-length motion pictures with "A Thousand and One." Set over more than a decade in Harlem, the feature follows Inez de la Paz (Teyana Taylor) snatching her son, Terry (played by a trio of different actors at different points in time), from his foster home surroundings and trying to make a life for the two of them.

There are many great flourishes in Rockwell's directing here, including the way she frames every nook and cranny of Harlem with such affection and detail. But it's also impressive how she juggles such an expansive narrative without making "A Thousand and One" feel cramped or its characters come off as half-formed. Comprehensiveness doesn't mean trading out intimate details within the confines of this particular movie. Under her direction, unforgettable performances blossom like roses, with Teyana Taylor astonishing in her deeply complicated and compelling work as Inez while Josiah Cross' work as 17-year-old Terry produces some of the most devastating line deliveries of the entire feature. "A Thousand and One" is an incredibly rich depiction of a mother/child dynamic that would register as impressive under any circumstances. As Rockwell's feature-length directorial debut, though, it's especially outstanding.

Cinema can be a powerful tool to reinforce the rhetoric of fascist oppressors, as seen by the works of D.W. Griffith or countless filmmakers behind Nazi propaganda films like Leni Riefenstahl. But it can also be a method for the marginalized to be shown as just everyday human beings, with the nonchalant depictions of humanity doing so much to undercut the sensationalist demonization of the oppressed. 

So it is with "Dry Ground Burning," a new motion picture from filmmakers Joana Pimenta and Adirley Queirós set in Brazil that follows half-siblings Léa (Léa Alves Silva) and Chitara (Joana Darc Furtado) as they lead an all-ladies group determined to enact political revolution and secretly sell gasoline to motorcyclists. This is a movie that puts lesbian ex-convicts at the forefront of its narrative and backs up that bold narrative choice with equally audacious filmmaking.

While "Dry Ground Burning" has numerous references to former Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro, its most striking qualities are ageless. Some of these are terrifyingly timeless, such as a chilling depiction of a group of cops preparing to hurt citizens by engaging in a nationalistic salute that looks an awful lot like a Nazi salute. Other times, the enduring qualities are much more pleasant and richly human, such as quiet scenes of Léa and Chitara just talking. By focusing so much on the latter qualities, "Dry Ground Burning" cements its impressive craftsmanship and reaffirms cinema's capabilities of lending dimensions to the downtrodden.

Whether they realize it or not, the individual characters of "Joyland," a directorial effort from Saim Sadiq, are all trapped. Protagonist Haider (Ali Junejo) is pressured to get a job to provide for his family so that his wife, Mumtaz (Rasti Farooq), isn't the primary breadwinner of the family. Mumtaz, meanwhile, is yearning to maintain her financial independence and her current job in the face of perceptions of what women are "supposed" to do. The rare person to at least transcend some of the bonds of societal expectations is Biba (Alina Khan), a dancer whose both a trans woman and Haider's new employer. 

In brief glimpses into Biba's personal life, including a scene where she walks through a location bustling with other trans ladies, we see the kind of joy that's possible when one is allowed to put their own identity first before "traditional" ideas of how people of certain genders are "supposed" to behave. The screenplay by Sadiq and Maggie Briggs deftly makes Biba represent this concept without turning her into an object or just a source of symbolism. She's still a richly-defined person, just like everyone else in the compelling cast of "Joyland." 

These nuanced characters are told through captivating cinematography by Joe Saade, which frames everybody in a tight 1.33:1 aspect ratio. Through this visual detail, "Joyland" constantly reinforces the idea that these characters are trapped by societal expectations that often crush so many souls. Everyday confinement is at least beautifully realized in the hands of "Joyland."

The BlackBerry phone was always going to be a temporary success. Not only is all technology prone to becoming tomorrow's outdated hardware, but when new co-CEO Jim Balsillie (Glenn Howerton) first walks into the ramshackle offices of the company behind this phone, the outfit's already millions of dollars in debt. The real-life exploits of BlackBerry creator Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel) and his associates start out in the land of extreme farce, and things rarely get better for these people from there.

"BlackBerry's" upfront depiction of the innate problems that plagued this phone and especially the company that created it all make for a captivating yarn about good intentions gone awry. Writer/director Matt Johnson does superb work making the snowballing chaos of this company incredibly compelling, particularly when it comes to the moral decay of Lazaridis.

All this entertaining mayhem is told alongside a memorable score by Jay McCarrol, which features intense electronic influences that lend a sense of urgency to everything unfolding on-screen. This story is also lent extra heft by being executed in the hands of a strong cast, with Baruchel especially excelling in portraying the various ups and downs of Lazaridis, while Howerton is a force to be reckoned with as a CEO who'll bite your head off if given half the chance. All that rage couldn't make the BlackBerry phone stick around in the technology landscape ... but it does help accentuate all the entertainment packed into the movie "BlackBerry."

The summer of 2023 was packed with blockbusters that put the entire fate of the planet in jeopardy, but the Nicole Holofcener feature "You Hurt My Feelings" wrung gripping tension and terrific entertainment out of something as minuscule as communication difficulties between couples. Specifically, "You Hurt My Feelings" focuses on the strife that emerges when novelist Beth (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) overhears her husband, therapist Don (Tobias Menzies), revealing that he doesn't like Beth's most recent book. Considering that Don previously told Beth he loved this piece of writing, this revelation shakes Beth to her core.

From there, Holofcener finds glib humor in the imperfect dynamic between Beth and Don, the former of whom is content to stew in resentment over her husband's deception. While we're experiencing them, the smallest trials can feel Earth-shattering in how they impact us, and the comedy of "You Hurt My Feelings" nicely captures that. It's a premise that's also well-handled by a stellar cast, including a winning lead performance from Louis-Dreyfus and an incredibly memorable supporting turn from Michaela Watkins. If bloated summer 2023 blockbusters have got you feeling jaded, then there's no better time to experience the low-key charms of "You Hurt My Feelings."

In 1988, Jean (Rosy McEwen) is a P.E. teacher in Newcastle just going through the motions on a day-to-day basis. Jean is a closeted lesbian who keeps her identity deeply under her wraps unless she's hanging out with her fellow lesbians at a local gay bar. However, her personal and professional lives collide when a new student at Jean's school, Lois (Lucy Halliday), begins to go to the gay bar Jean frequents. Writer/director Georgia Oakley's "Blue Jean" subsequently becomes a cinematic representation of how systemically normalized bigotry can help turn members of marginalized groups on one another. Jean views quiet, stifled survival as a way forward and sees the presence of Lois, rather than the homophobic society itself, as the problem.

It's a compelling narrative and one that affords a queer woman protagonist the kind of morally complicated quandaries that such characters don't normally get to navigate in cinema. Oakley's quietly assured filmmaking vividly realizes the tension of the world Jean navigates daily while McEwen effortlessly communicates internal conflict within Jean just through a haunted facial expression. Meanwhile, the smart writing finds very creative and hideously authentic quiet ways that intolerance creeps into Jean's world, like a homophobic poster she drives by every day on her way to work. "Blue Jean" is an unflinching work and character study, but it's all the better for its willingness to keep the camera rolling on complicated lives navigating omnipresent prejudice.

Many types of movies get the short end of the stick when it comes to getting dropped on Netflix, but one type of cinema is truly ill-served by this streamer: animated family movies. Whereas theatrical animated features like "Puss in Boots: The Last Wish" or "Elemental" can have underwhelming debuts but leg it out over multiple months, new animated Netflix movies seem to vanish the moment they hit the platform. That's a tragedy under any circumstances, but it's especially a pain when it comes to "Nimona," a feature film adaptation of N.D. Stevenson's graphic novel of the same name.

The story of a shapeshifter named Nimona (Chloe Grace Moretz) who teams up with Ballister, a knight framed for murder (Riz Ahmed), "Nimona" has energy to spare both in its wonderfully frantic animation and live-wire gags. However, it really excels in terms of pathos. The film's depiction of what it means to live life as a societal outsider resonates as truly authentic, despite all the fantastical story elements at play. Plus, the voice work is terrific from top to bottom, with Ahmed and Moretz both turning in exceptional work in the lead roles. A movie as good as "Nimona" really deserves the big-screen treatment so that everyone can discover it, but hey — at least a film this unique and delightful exists at all.

Who is Amanda (Benedetta Porcaroli)? The titular star of writer-director Carolina Cavalli's feature "Amanda" belongs to an incredibly rich family and struggles to think beyond herself. Even her impromptu quest to become the best friend of shut-in Rebecca (Galatéa Bellugi) is laced with self-serving attributes. She's a messy figure, but her flaws are also emblematic of the sense of loss many of us feel in our 20s. Even when it seems like your life has been handed to you on a silver platter, deep internal torment can make you feel adrift and resentful of everyone around you.

Cavalli's portrayal of Amanda is wonderfully intricate, while Cavalli's filmmaking style encompasses a variety of tones. "Amanda" begins with anarchic camerawork, particularly with the film's intentionally tardy title card. Later, though, as Amanda and Rebecca actually begin to bond, a degree of warmth begins to seep in (sprinkled with chaos, as seen through the duo's use of fireworks). Life takes you on all kinds of wild ups and downs. "Amanda," both in its visuals and themes, captures these unpredictable qualities of existence with aplomb.

Antoine (Denis Ménochet), lead character of "The Beasts," doesn't want trouble. He and his wife Olga (Marina Foïs) are French natives who live on a farm in Galicia, Spain, and try their best to take care of the environment. However, their refusal to have their countryside sold to a wealthy wind energy outfit puts them at odds with local townsfolk. Most notably, next-door neighbors Xan (Luis Zahera) and Lorenzo (Diego Anido) are enraged at losing out on selling their farmland. What results is a gripping thriller, in which Antoine must navigate daily existence and the increasingly malicious behavior of his neighbors.

To say "The Beasts" is a captivating work of cinema isn't enough. Writer-director Rodrigo Sorogoyen places the viewer inside a societal outsider viewed as "the enemy" by fellow working-class people, rather than the actually dangerous wealthy members of society. This misplaced anger on Xan and Lorenzo's part also adds a sense of tragedy to their characters — but this doesn't make their increasing hostility towards Antoine and Olga any less terrifying. The movie's measured camerawork captures several harrowing situations with incredible mastery, while the script isn't afraid to get dark depicting the struggles immigrants face in securing justice. Far from an easy watch, "The Beasts" is an essential piece of 2023 cinema.

Coal. A single rock can hold so much power, especially over territories where one can dig for it. Director Elaine McMillion Sheldon returns to her home of Central Appalachia to explore the power coal and corporate greed have over working-class life with the documentary "King Coal." There's a dark urgency underpinning the proceedings given how much reliance on the coal industry and corporate interference has ravaged the communities sitting atop hordes of coal. However, the dominant aesthetic of the piece is much more languid, which helps to demonstrate how the adverse side effects of coal dependency have slowly but surely taken their toll on small towns and people.

At times, "King Coal" is a therapeutic cinematic exercise, as individuals who've often had their voices erased entirely (chiefly Black residents of Central Appalachia) finally get to have their perspectives captured on film. However, the entire feature carries a deeply nuanced quality that renders its on-camera subjects as actual human beings, a sharp contrast to the way corporations (which only want to exploit the area's coal, safety be darned) treat these individuals. For some, "King Coal" may be too slow-paced to be worth getting invested in. However, patient and observant viewers will be richly rewarded with a documentary that takes a stark gaze onto the present coal-centric communities and attempts to imagine a brighter future for these areas.

"Before, Now & Then" protagonist Nana (Happy Salma) cannot stop living in the past. Her time in the present is marked by vivid memories of her husband's murder during an uprising in the past. However, eventually, Nana must awaken and navigate her life in Indonesia in the late 1960s. This new existence includes striking up a dynamic with Ino (Laura Basuki), the lady Nana's husband was sleeping with. Other movies might have Nana and Ino immediately at each other's throats over a man. Instead, the duo find tender comfort in the other's arms as they finally have somebody to talk to, to listen to, and to be free around. A moment where the pair jump off a small cliff and into a pool of water is downright exhilarating, the freedom they share is palpable.

Writer/director Kamila Andini handles this central relationship well, and her strong visual sensibilities capture the quiet aching torment of Nana's everyday life, especially whenever she's dealing with intrusive visions of the past. Just as restrained and effective is the lead performance of Happy Salma — she's mesmerizing in the lead role even when her dialogue is minimal. Salma's subdued physicality conveys a lot about the torment Nana is burying deep inside her body, and the way she subtly communicates Nana being more relaxed around Ino is truly impressive. "Before, Now & Then" is a striking yarn about the ways our past and present are always intertwined.

"Shortcomings," the feature-length directorial debut of comedic actor Randall Park, is a reminder that movies with very noticeable flaws can also be deeply worthy of praise. There's no denying "Shortcomings" often has a very unimaginative visual palette while its final five minutes wrap things up in too tidy of a fashion. However, there's far more we can laud here, including Adrian Tomine's screenplay (adapted from his graphic novel of the same name) delivering a thoroughly and intentionally unlikeable protagonist named Ben (Justin H. Min). 

In a delightful 360-degree turnaround from his work in "After Yang," Min is downright repellant at times as Ben, and that's a testament to his great work in the role. Within Min's acting, viewers witness the sort of flawed lead character Asian-American actors aren't often allowed to play. Adam Driver and Robert Pattinson can play monsters and score award-season accolades, but those kinds of roles aren't often afforded to actors who look like Justin H. Min.

The larger metatextual importance of Min's authentic rendering of a toxic guy oblivious to how his behavior impacts others makes Ben a fascinating character rather than one who makes you want to walk out of the theater. Plus, Ben spends much of the movie paired up with Alice, a hysterical supporting character played with transfixing assuredness by Sherry Cola. Even when "Shortcomings" barrels through a rushed predictable ending, performances like Cola's and the better aspects of the script make the movie a pleasing enterprise.

You may have seen the memes of Russell Crowe's "The Pope's Exorcist" protagonist Gabriele Amorth riding around on his Vespa scooter. However, nothing can prepare viewers for the hysterical early shot of Crowe cruising around on this vehicle while "We Care A Lot" by Faith No More blares on the soundtrack. It's an unabashedly silly moment that establishes the kind of movie director Julius Avery is aiming to deliver with "The Pope's Exorcist" (as if that trashy title wasn't enough of a hint). This is a deeply preposterous feature and one that proves a perfect fit for Crowe, who's just the kind of A-list star you want mucking around in B-movie trash.

Crowe lends plenty of commitment to Amorth's absurd personality, which veers from being a world-weary veteran of supernatural encounters to a goofy uncle. The erratically defined nature of this character becomes downright charming in the hands of Crowe, who relishes the chance to put 110% conviction into whatever antics Amorth is getting up to at a moment's notice. Meanwhile, Avery and cinematographer Khalid Mohtaseb engage in slightly livelier camerawork than you'd expect, though the drab visuals and generic attempts at exorcism-themed scares are what hold back "The Pope's Exorcist" from reaching its fullest potential. Still, there's plenty of fleeting ridiculous fun to be had in "The Pope's Exorcist," right down to its hysterical final burst of on-screen text referring to books written by the actual Gabriele Amorth.

Something that defines many great movies is paradoxes. Outstanding pieces of art tend to function in conceptually contradictory terms that feel organic and natural when you're experiencing them. So it is with the outstanding documentary "Kokomo City," which features a gloriously stylized monochromatic color palette. Documentary footage of the film's central subjects (a quartet of Black trans women sex workers named Daniella Carter, Dominque Silver, Koko Da Doll, and Liyah Mitchell) is entirely rendered in black-and-white, which lends a striking look to the proceedings reminiscent of classic film noir. Real life doesn't necessarily look like the black-and-white color scheme of "Kokomo City," yet director D. Smith uses this visual flourish to create images that tap into tangible emotional reality.

That's just one of the many incredible filmmaking feats "Kokomo City" pulls off with remarkable ease. Some of its greatest accomplishments, though, are also its simplest pleasures, like delivering so many lively and fascinating anecdotes from on-camera figures like Liyah Mitchell. It also proves ceaselessly amazing to see a feature that's willing to portray every emotional nook and cranny of trans experiences while reminding viewers that, just as there isn't one way to "look" trans, there also isn't one way to exist as a member of this community. There's a deep sense of humanity bursting through every gorgeously rendered frame of "Kokomo City" that makes it one of the most essential pieces of 2023 cinema.

As "Our Father, the Devil" begins, Marie Cisse (Babetida Sadjo) is living a quiet life, working at a retirement home in France. However, her past suddenly comes back to haunt her in the most horrifying ways imaginable when she hears a familiar voice belonging to a man calling himself Father Patrick (Souleymane Sy Savane). Though he claims to be a quiet man of God, Cisse remembers him as the warlord who held her prisoner and turned her into a child soldier in her home country. Writer-director Ellie Foumbi depicts Cisse kidnapping "Father Patrick" and holding him hostage in a cabin she's just been given ownership of. Here, Cisse plans to have her revenge by exacting upon "Father Patrick" the same kind of brutality she endured at his hands years ago.

It's worth mentioning that "Our Father, the Devil" never explicitly shows flashbacks to Cisse's past. The focus here is on the present — yesteryear is only crystallized through the words of on-screen characters. This restrictive storytelling gaze on the part of Foumbi's screenplay is an ingenious move that instills a sense of uneasy ambiguity into the piece, first over the potential identity of "Father Patrick" and then over the scale of the horrors Cisse witnessed in her past. "Our Father, the Devil" keeps peeling back layers of the past within the horrors of the present to create a movie that's never an easy watch, but is an outright tour de force in terms of filmmaking and acting. 

"Godland" begins with 19th century Danish priest Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) setting out on a mission. He's to lead a group into Iceland and build a church on top of a Danish settlement. Here, his superiors are convinced they can "civilize" the Icelandic natives. Lucas believes he will easily be able to tame the terrain he is entering, which is why he opts to travel through Iceland to his destination, rather than taking a shorter route by sea. Writer-director Hlynur Pálmason frames Lucas within a constantly humbling narrative, as this man of God is relentlessly reminded that he has no control over the domain he seeks to conquer.

"Godland" is a stinging critique of colonialism, but it's also a mesmerizing visual feat making great use of gorgeous Icelandic landscapes. Much like classic John Ford Westerns emphasize vast deserts to reinforce the smallness of cowboys, Pálmason and cinematographer Maria von Hausswolff use expansive natural backdrops to solidify that Lucas is just a grain of sand in the hourglass of existence. Such unforgettable images are captured on 35mm film and a 1.33:1 aspect ratio; this pair of elements make any frame of "Godland" look as evocative as a rare photograph taken during the century this story occupies. An absolutely gorgeous triumph of filmmaking, "Godland" grips your eyes while tantalizing your brain with meditations on how often the world nonchalantly puts humanity in its place.

Alien invasion movies aren't rare, but "No One Will Save You" does stand out from this crowded pack of sci-fi films with some very creative flourishes. Most notably, this project opts to take a very intimate gaze at following seamstress Brynn (Kaitlyn Dever) as she grapples with her home being invaded by otherworldly beasts. More importantly, this is a yarn told almost entirely without dialogue, a bold move that writer-director Brian Duffield proves shockingly committed to realizing without any cheats or distracting shortcuts. Dever proves more than capable of carrying a film without an ensemble cast or dialogue, while the alien thrills are even more chilling told solely through sound effects and visuals.

"No One Will Save You" even manages to deftly balance out its more grounded explorations of coping with trauma and the extremely heightened alien material, particularly in an unforgettable climactic sequence that makes ingenious use of the visual of alien ships "beaming up" people. On top of all that, "No One Will Save You" even remembers that brevity is the soul of the wit with a runtime that doesn't exceed 95 minutes with credits. This allows it to wring all the dramatic potential of its central concept without overstaying its welcome. Any way you look at it, "No One Will Save You" is a welcome surprise and an incredible acting showcase for Dever.

It may not be quite as good as 2023 comedy champion "Bottoms," but "Joy Ride" is another example of how yukfests in 2023 have been a quietly reliable genre (duds like "Strays" notwithstanding). Hailing from director Adele Lim, "Joy Ride" gets much of its entertainment out of something simple: finding four performers who are fun to watch get into shenanigans for 90 minutes. Leading ladies Ashley Park, Sherry Cola, Stephanie Hsu, and Sabrina Wu are all hysterical on their own merits, and while bouncing off one another. Best of all, they each bring discernibly different virtues to the table, with Wu's unabashedly idiosyncratic impulses playing as a great contrast to the amusingly buttoned-up persona Hsu inhabits.

Screenwriters Cherry Chevapravatdumrong and Teresa Hsiao keep conjuring up highly amusing scenarios for these four performers to navigate as their characters make their way across China; a montage of all four characters (save for Wu's Deadeye) engaging in sexual shenanigans is a particular highlight. Lim and cinematographer Paul Yee also make the whole production look well-polished while the briskly-paced proceedings don't get bogged down in obviously improvised sequences like so many other modern comedies. If you want a comedy that'll provide plenty of amusement for 95 straight minutes, "Joy Ride" fits the bill perfectly.

"Mami Wata," a feature hailing from director C. J. Obasi, is rooted in ancient West African folklore, yet it couldn't feel more vibrantly modern. Boldly stylized images filtered through a black-and-white color scheme are scattered throughout "Mami Wata," creating a compellingly dreamlike mood. While this is impressive on its own, Obasi's visuals are even more notable for the way they tell the story of Zinwe (Uzoamaka Aniunoh), a young woman navigating a rebellion against her mother, Mama Efe (Rita Edochie), who previously served as leader of their village. This is a feature about ancient traditions brushing up against modern skepticism, creating a mixture of spiritual and pragmatic reality. The visuals emphasize this by making viewers feel as though they're wandering through a dream, or perhaps distant memories. 

"Mami Wata" is further distinguished by a collection of strong performances, led by Aniunoh's outstanding star turn. The film is also accompanied by a terrific score from composer Tunde Jegede. "Mami Wata" is an incredibly distinctive motion picture that proves endlessly absorbing to the viewer's every sense.

Jobs can be a unique kind of hell on Earth. People get trapped in horrific workspaces because they need to make money to afford the bare essentials of existence. This forces folks — especially those who are marginalized — to endure truly unspeakable circumstances. So it goes in "The Royal Hotel." Protagonists Hanna (Julia Garner) and Liv (Jessica Henwick) find themselves working in the Royal Hotel, an isolated bar in the Australian Outback. Here, misogynistic men are inescapable; Hanna becomes especially disturbed by the suffocating presence of guys who see her as an object.

Writer-director Kitty Green makes "The Royal Hotel" a tremendously gripping thriller, edged with potential violence. We don't need to see buckets of blood to feel uncomfortable — the possibility of nightmarish encounters between Hanna and various men is always lurking in the air. This restrained approach creates mesmerizingly suspenseful sequences, accentuated by Garner's tremendous performance. Much like with Green's 2020 masterpiece "The Assistant," the sound design of "The Royal Hotel" is also incredibly special. This particular feature excels in alternating between overwhelmingly noisy sequences and hauntingly sparse interactions between Hanna and aggressive bar patrons. "The Royal Hotel" is a must-see movie without question, but viewers beware: It'll give you a chill up your spine you won't be able to shake for days afterward. 

Director William Friedkin passed away in August 2023, but he left moviegoers one final gift in the form of "The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial." Chronicling the court proceedings revolving around Lieutenant Maryk's (Jake Lacy) mutiny against Lt. Commander Queeg (Kiefer Sutherland), "The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial" is everything you could want from a courtroom drama. A stern judge (Lance Reddick) warns lawyers that they're on thin ice. A heroic lawyer (Jason Clarke) gets witnesses to accidentally reveal key details. There are unexpected cross-examinations. If you've ever cheered on "Anatomy of a Murder" or "12 Angry Men," you'll be in hog heaven with "The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial."

The stripped-down nature of the proceedings gives a bevy of compelling actors the chance to flex their might, particularly Kiefer Sutherland as a commander who is both intimidating and ominously unstable. The late, great Reddick also offers an incredibly engaging performance, delivering even the most conceptually mundane lines with impressive levels of gravitas. Nobody will ever dub "The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial" anywhere near as good as Friedkin masterpieces like "Sorcerer" and "To Live and Die in L.A.," but it's a treat for courtroom drama fans that also provides movie geeks a solid farewell to an iconic filmmaker.

Wiser folks have already pointed out that Emerald Fennell's latest feature, "Saltburn," shares key narrative elements with titles like "The Talented Mr. Ripley" and "Teorema." Still others have suggested its social commentary on class isn't all it could be. But for those who can get on its wavelength, "Saltburn" mitigates its derivative elements in favor of a story that's just plain nasty fun to watch. "Saltburn" is the ballad of working-class soul Oliver Quick (Barry Keoghan), who comes into the life of rich college boy Felix Catton (Jacob Elordi) and stays at this man's family estate. It's also a devious feature that asks audiences to recoil in horror at passionate displays of romantic longing ... before asking us why we're repulsed by certain on-screen actions and not others.

It's all a lot of warped mayhem that moves at a good pace and is told with tremendous bravura, including an unflinching turn from leading man Barry Keoghan and unforgettably cutting line deliveries from Rosamund Pike. There's also no shortage of gorgeous imagery courtesy of cinematographer Linus Sandgren; just the way beams of light pour into various environments is glorious. "Saltburn" isn't perfect, nor does it break new ground as a piece of social commentary. But it's a hoot to watch, especially with others, and it's hard to resist a freaky little treat told by such talented artists.

In 2019, director Lijo Jose Pellissery put himself on the radar of film geeks across the world with his feature "Jallikattu," which uses a rampaging bull to create a movie that is always evolving and changing. For his latest motion picture, "Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam," Pellissery opts for a quieter mode that's no less impressive. James (Mammootty) is a tour leader taking a bunch of Malayali tourists back home to Kerala. On the way, the group stops at a village that awakens something in the cantankerous James. He suddenly goes from being somebody who can't stand the radio being turned on to being a boisterous soul named Sundaram who vanished from the village years earlier.

This story of mistaken identity is told through remarkably assured camerawork that always keeps some level of distance between the characters and the cameras. Wider shots allow the viewer to see how all these fictional figures from radically different backgrounds are connected in some shape or form, even if some of them want nothing to do with this village. This remarkable cinematography (courtesy of Theni Eswar) is mirrored in overall quality by Mammootty's lead performance; he makes each side of his protagonist feel vividly real and believable. All these elements are in service of a compellingly uncertain atmosphere you can't turn away from. The quality of "Nanpakal Nerathu Mayakkam" should put Liji Jose Pellissery once again in high esteem.

Early on-screen text in "Beyond Utopia" clarifies one key element to viewers: Nothing in this documentary is a staged recreation. This is a movie filled with footage of actual North Korean citizens making a break from the country and escaping into the outside world. Such images are tremendously impactful to watch, and the restrained nature of the filmmaking used in these sequences (shaky cameras, reliance on natural lighting, and fragmented capturing of words are all present) reinforce the material's authenticity. The people behind the camera had as much control over their on-screen subjects as these defectors had over their lives in North Korea.

"Beyond Utopia," which is helmed by Madeleine Gavin, would already be a remarkable cinematic accomplishment with just these escape sequences. However, the footage it captures of former North Korean citizens existing outside of their home country is also outstanding. Particularly moving are recurring segments in which a woman tries to get updates on her son, who may or may not be grappling with his desire to leave North Korea. She's pushing a boulder up a hill, trying to get reliable info out of this country, but she has to keep trying. "Beyond Utopia" is an unflinching cinematic testament to human beings looking out for one another under the most unspeakable of circumstances. Who needs recreations when you've got that kind of material?

One of the greatest things about being a film geek is that there's no shortage of incredibly talented filmmakers from around the world waiting to be discovered. Take Ilker Çatak, for example. This German auteur has been directing shorts and feature films for years, but he's only now exploded onto everyone's radar, thanks to "The Teachers' Lounge." This project concerns teacher Carla Nowak (Leonie Benesch), who tries to hold onto her principles while working at an incredibly flawed school. Once she accuses another teacher of stealing from her, chaos erupts. Nowak finds herself thrust into a newfound world of moral ambiguity. 

There's plenty to praise in "The Teachers' Lounge," but special props should be given to the young actors  tasked with portraying middle schoolers, who navigate extreme drama. Leonard Stettnisch as Oskar Kuhn, the son of the teacher accused of stealing, is especially remarkable, handling weighty material far beyond his years. He takes on a physicality that makes your skin crawl, then exudes a sense of vulnerability and sorrow in the very next scene. It's a wonderfully complicated performance that pairs well with Benesch's outstanding lead work. One of 2023's greatest cinematic achievements, "The Teachers' Lounge" is a gripping thriller that ensures nobody will be forgetting Çatak's name anytime soon.

One of the great things about "Dream Scenario" is simply that it's a reminder of how deeply talented Nicolas Cage is as a comedic actor. Cage always commits 100% to his characters, no matter how outlandish they are, so it's no surprise that he excels in embodying the socially inept professor, Paul Matthews, who ends up at the center of "Dream Scenario." Matthews is a meek guy always stumbling over his sentences who also has a quiet vindictive streak, and Cage humorously renders him as someone who very clearly has no plan for anything, including how to deal with suddenly showing up in the dreams of everyone on the planet. He plays Matthews as someone constantly and obviously improvising, and the tiny details he incorporates into communicating that (especially little tics in the man's vocal patterns) are equal parts impressive and hysterical.

"Dream Scenario" is at its best when it leans into Cage's bracingly imperfect portrayal of a dorky middle-aged man, but even in a third act that gets too big for its own good, this lead actor still proves compelling. Plus, the filmmaking chops of director Kristoffer Borgli are similarly consistently solid, especially in how he can make the visual landscape of "Dream Scenario" go from humorous to chilling on a dime. Best of all, he clearly knows how to utilize the endless talents of Nicolas Cage for comedy, and that counts for a lot!

The power dynamics within "Monster" are never stable. Just when you think you understand who is in the "right" here or who wields the most power, suddenly a new twist comes about that upends the entire way you perceive this fictional universe. Director Hirokazu Kore-eda and writer Yuji Sakamoto concoct an ingenious narrative here (revolving around a troubling incident at a school and revealed in three different segments told from vastly different perspectives) that makes it clear nobody in this tale knows anything really. Everybody is doing the best they can with just fragments of a larger truth that they may never fully comprehend. 

It's a melancholy thesis, but it's also one that rings true to life, where all of us are improvising our responses to anything and everything that crosses our path. It's also a great narrative landscape for Kore-eda to utilize his iconic style of filmmaking that just oozes so much affection for the people on-screen. Scrappy underdogs, societal outcasts, and imperfect folks trying to connect with others are this director's specialty, and that ensures "Monster" is a deeply moving work of cinema. Its narrative structure is also executed with incredible finesse while the actors assembled are all outstanding. These elements all coalesce to make a movie transfixing in its malleability, and you truly never know where "Monster" will go next.

Director J.A. Bayona has a specialty, and it's making emotionally gut-wrenching movies about people enduring unbelievable emotional turmoil. "The Impossible" was unflinching in depicting a family being torn apart and trying to reunite after a tsunami, while 2016's "A Monster Calls" was a classic tearjerker capturing a kid in the throes of complicated emotions stemming from his mom's imminent death. With "Society of the Snow," Bayona turns his gaze to the tragically true story of the 1972 Andes flight disaster, in which a plane carrying a Uruguayan soccer time crashed in the mountains. The surviving passengers were forced to spend months in the relentless cold and grapple with what they would do to survive the unimaginable.

Bayona's emotionally trying works won't be for everyone, but he's got a gift for portraying human anguish without coming off as exploitative. Here, Bayona emphasizes the youthfulness of many of these main characters to heighten the already tragic circumstances of these people getting marooned in an unforgiving locale. Leaning on this quality in these figures makes their underdog status all the more potent and leaves viewers aching to see them return home. When it's time for unforeseen complications to make their situation even worse (like a harrowing avalanche), Bayona executes these woes with proper levels of devastation. It's not Bayona's highest point as a filmmaker, but "Society of the Snow" still shows this director's skill with making your heart race and tear ducts moist.

Author Shere Hite proposed one big idea in her texts — the way men and women navigate sex isn't beneficial to anyone. Her point of view, which emphasized and tried to normalize talking about the sexual pleasure of women, caused tons of controversy, particularly from men who were appalled at her words that challenged the status quo. "The Disappearance of Shere Hite" is a documentary from director Nicole Newnham that charts the career of Hite, how she was eventually forced into exile outside of the United States, and everything in between during her life. A lady who isn't quite a household name in the modern world gets to be the central focus of this particular motion picture.

What's especially lovely about "The Disappearance of Shere Hite" is when it emphasizes footage or anecdotes about Hite as just a person. Wistful stories about parties at her apartment or photos taken later in her life in France give viewers an intimate gaze into the psychology of a woman who was often demonized and talked over in the public discourse. Plus, Newnham subtly reflects the reality that the way Hite is turned into a social pariah simply for challenging gender-related norms is a phenomenon that's been repeated throughout history. Even if Shere Hite "vanished", the ways her voice was silenced and — more happily — her insightful words keep reverberating into the present.