Men is a visceral descent into madness and a haunting exploration of grief, toxic masculinity, and eerie folk horror, blending beautiful cinematography with unsettling performances to leave you as captivated as you are disturbed.”

The title’s honest—there are certainly “No Hard Feelings” here, because there are hardly any feelings at all.

Leave the World Behind squanders its talented cast and promising premise with heavy-handed social commentary, chaotic visuals, and a disjointed plot that leaves viewers more frustrated than thrilled.

Reasonable Woman is a polished but uneven return for Sia, blending emotional ballads and glittery pop bangers into an ambitious yet scattered album that struggles to find a clear identity.

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves is a chaotic, heart-filled fantasy heist that nails the humor and camaraderie of a true D&D campaign, offering plenty of laughs and action, even if the world-building feels a bit thin.

Cold Visions drowns in its own distorted chaos, delivering 30 tracks of repetitive noise and emotionless autotune that even the most loyal Bladee fans might struggle to endure.

Nobody trades intrigue for relentless violence, offering a dad-bod twist on John Wick that’s entertaining but lacks depth, leaving viewers with a hollow, midlife-crisis-fueled action flick that never quite hits the mark.

The Tortured Poets Department is Taylor Swift at her most raw and self-aware, blending biting wit, emotional wreckage, and sonic experimentation into a darkly addictive album that feels like heartbreak reimagined as performance art.

Raging Bull dives into the self-destructive psyche of Jake LaMotta with unflinching intensity, delivering a bruising, operatic journey through violence, jealousy, and raw human frailty, anchored by De Niro’s unforgettable performance.

We Still Don’t Trust You is an overstuffed, underwhelming slog that leans on recycled ideas and bloated production, proving that even Future and Metro Boomin can run a good formula into the ground.

Ricky Stanicky aims for outrageous buddy comedy but falls short, blending recycled gags with juvenile humor that feels more forced than funny, despite John Cena’s committed performance.

Ramona swings for emotional and theatrical grandeur but ends up feeling overproduced and disjointed, with Grace Cummings’ powerful voice often drowning in a sea of mismatched arrangements and missed opportunities.