There are movies that catch you off guard—not because of a shocking twist or groundbreaking visuals, but because they deliver an experience you didn’t know you needed. K-Pop Demon Hunters is exactly that kind of film. Going in, I wasn’t a K-pop fan. In fact, I’ve never listened to a full K-pop track (save for BTS’ Dynamite) in my life. But within minutes, I was caught in the dazzling neon vortex of this movie, and by the end, I realized it had done something remarkable: it made me care deeply about three global pop stars who moonlight as defenders of humanity.

From the opening scene—where Neeson inexplicably dons a schoolgirl disguise to thwart a bank robbery—the film sets its frenetic, absurd tone. The jokes land with gleeful abandon: pratfalls, visual gags, meta-references that wink at fans, and a shameless dose of slapstick. The action sequences blur into comedic chaos—electric cars gone haywire, nightclub brawls, and a climactic emergency at a mixed martial arts match coincide with the unveiling of the film’s high-stakes tech villainy. It’s silly, absurd, full of momentum—and it works.

Under the direction of James Gunn and a screenplay he co-wrote, Superman delivers what feels like a new dawn for the DC Universe. David Corenswet plays Clark Kent/Superman with an earnest optimism and boy-scout charm that he infuses with real emotional depth. Rachel Brosnahan brings Lois Lane to life as sharp, driven, and thoroughly modern—and the chemistry between them crackles with real heat. Seriously, these two look and feel like they belong together, making this not just a good superhero movie, but a damn good movie overall—possibly the best of the year so far.

Ballerina maintains a thematic layer in the John Wick franchise—one where violence is not only physical but artistic. It explores how tradition, discipline, and tragedy shape a warrior. Ana de Armas delivers a performance brimming with precision and heart. The film stakes are smaller than a global super-villain showdown, but they feel intimate, lived-in, and compelling.

The film smartly doesn’t try to replicate the cartoon’s zany energy beat-for-beat. This is a more contemplative, grounded take. Some viewers may find the pacing slower, but that slowness gives space for quieter, more meaningful character beats. You feel Nani’s exhaustion. You feel Lilo’s isolation. You feel the weight of trying to hold a family together with duct tape and desperation.

Could it suffer from franchise familiarity? Sure. It borrows structural beats from team‑up films of the past. But this time, the Marvel machine feels intentional, not rote. There’s murder, betrayal, redemption, and even a psychological twist hinting at upcoming Avengers split arcs.

Slick, smart, and fueled by a powerhouse performance, G20 is exactly what you’d want from a modern political action thriller. It’s fast, fun, and anchored by one of the greatest living actors proving once again that there’s no role too large, no challenge too intense, and no genre she can’t conquer. Viola Davis isn’t just the President in G20—she’s the whole damn movie.

Quaid brings his full range to the role, flexing both his comic timing and increasingly impressive dramatic chops. Between Novocaine and his equally strong turn in Companion, he has somehow managed to dominate the first half of 2025 with two wildly different but equally captivating performances. In this film, he gets to be charming, goofy, vulnerable, and convincingly heroic, all without losing the character’s everyman appeal.

Netflix’s new miniseries Zero Day is a gripping and thought-provoking thriller that raises pressing questions about truth, control, and the very fabric of reality in an era dominated by conspiracy and uncertainty. At its core, the series forces viewers to examine whether the crises tearing the world apart are the work of external forces beyond our grasp, or whether we ourselves are complicit in their creation. It’s a timely, relevant, and unsettling watch that refuses to provide easy answers, making it one of the most compelling shows of the year.

Companion is a sleek, unnerving sci-fi thriller that wears its themes on its sleeve while keeping its audience off balance from start to finish. With an ensemble cast led by Yellowjackets breakout Sophie Thatcher and Oscar winner Jack Quaid, the film unfolds like a high-tech morality play dressed as a cabin-in-the-woods mystery.

In its sophomore season, The Recruit finally seems to find its footing, delivering a sharper, more confident narrative that capitalizes on its strengths. After a promising but uneven debut season, the show has refined its tone, balancing action, humor, and suspense in a way that feels more natural. Season 2 is more unpredictable, more polished, and ultimately more engaging, making it a significant step up from its predecessor.

Directed by Lawrence Lamont and written by Syreeta Singleton, One of Them Days is a tightly paced, effortlessly funny buddy comedy that takes a familiar premise—a race against time to come up with rent money—and elevates it with sharp writing, electric performances, and genuine heart.

In Conclave, director Edward Berger crafts a masterful political thriller that unfolds within the Vatican's hallowed walls, blending the grandeur of faith with the suspense of power plays and secrets. Following the death of the Pope, Cardinal Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) is thrust into the center of a high-stakes election to determine the next leader of the Catholic Church. However, as the conclave begins, Lawrence stumbles upon hidden truths about the deceased Pope that could not only derail the election but shake the very foundations of the Church itself.

Gia Coppola’s The Last Showgirl is an intriguing, intimate character study that captures the melancholy and resilience of reinvention. The film, centered on a seasoned showgirl grappling with the abrupt closure of her show’s 30-year run, is more than just a narrative about the end of a career. It’s a reflection on identity, purpose, and the inevitability of change. While the movie occasionally suffers from an unfocused narrative and a meandering pace, these aspects seem almost intentional, mirroring the disorientation of its central character.

Sing Sing is a profoundly moving exploration of resilience, humanity, and the transformative power of art, inspired by a true story. Directed with a commitment to authenticity, the film immerses viewers in the lives of incarcerated men who find purpose and connection through a theater group within the walls of the infamous Sing Sing Correctional Facility. What emerges is not just a story about imprisonment but about liberation—of the mind, spirit, and humanity.

From renowned auteur Jacques Audiard (Rust and Bone, A Prophet) comes Emilia Pérez, a genre-defying cinematic marvel that reimagines the musical as a visceral, emotionally charged odyssey. Set in Mexico, the film blends liberating song and dance, striking visuals, and a poignant exploration of identity, freedom, and authenticity. This audacious tale follows the intersecting lives of four remarkable women, each navigating their own pursuit of happiness. 

Megan Park’s My Old Ass is a fresh, high-concept coming-of-age story that effortlessly balances whimsy, heart, and introspection. The premise alone—a free-spirited 18-year-old Elliott (Maisy Stella) encountering her wisecracking 39-year-old self (Aubrey Plaza) during a mushroom trip—suggests a raucous comedic ride. However, what truly makes this film shine is its surprising restraint, focusing on the everyday challenges and triumphs of Elliott’s life rather than veering too far into the outrageousness the concept might imply. This tonal choice elevates My Old Ass into a deeply human and resonant story, making it one of the year’s standout films.

Jesse Eisenberg’s A Real Pain is a poignant and thoughtful exploration of family, identity, and the weight of inherited trauma. The film follows mismatched cousins David (Eisenberg) and Benji (Kieran Culkin) as they embark on a trip to Poland to honor their late grandmother’s memory. Their journey, however, becomes far more than a simple tribute as old tensions resurface, and the haunting legacy of the Holocaust intertwines with their personal struggles.

Sean Baker’s Anora, which deservedly clinched the Palme d’Or at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, is a poignant, raw, and unforgettable exploration of love, class, and identity. In typical Baker fashion, the film delves into the lives of individuals on society’s margins, presenting their stories with compassion, complexity, and a refreshing lack of judgment.

The Perfect Couple on Netflix taps into the now-familiar blend of drama, mystery, and glamour, focusing on the ultra-wealthy, much like Big Little Lies or The Undoing. Set on the scenic and affluent island of Nantucket, the show centers on Amelia Sacks, played by Eve Hewson, who is on the verge of marrying into the powerful Winbury family. Her future mother-in-law, Greer Garrison Winbury, portrayed by the ever-dominant Nicole Kidman, is a famous novelist with a perfectionist streak. Greer’s lavish plans for the wedding are upended when a body turns up on the beach, setting off a domino effect of secrets, scandals, and revelations.