Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 reaches for heartfelt closure but lands in heavy-handed territory, transforming a lively space saga into a somber, overextended farewell.

Outer Spaceways Incorporated aims for a cosmic collision of jazz and classical but ends up as an overcooked, chaotic experiment where Kronos Quartet and their collaborators lose themselves in the void, offering more confusion than coherence.

Midsommar is a hauntingly beautiful dive into grief, rebirth, and ritualistic horror—a breakup movie taken to grotesque, daylight-drenched extremes.

If Fine Art by Kneecap is “art,” then it’s the kind you might find scrawled on a bathroom stall after a particularly rowdy night at the pub—amusing at first, but it quickly loses its charm once you realize the punchline is the entire joke.

The French Dispatch is a vibrant love letter to print journalism, brimming with meticulous detail, quirky characters, and Wes Anderson’s signature charm.

Eels Time! is a cozy, introspective ride through Mark Oliver Everett’s signature blend of bittersweet humor and melancholic musings—charming for longtime fans but too safe and slow-burning to leave a lasting impression.

Under the Silver Lake is a surreal, conspiracy-laden trip through LA that’s as baffling as it is mesmerizing.

The Dream of Delphi is a tender, ethereal meditation on motherhood that trades Bat for Lashes’ usual cinematic boldness for intimate, ambient soundscapes—beautifully soothing but occasionally drifting into the overly subdued.

No Country for Old Men is a haunting Coen Brothers masterpiece where fate hunts without mercy, embodied by Javier Bardem’s chilling Anton Chigurh. In a brutal Texas landscape, this tense, scoreless thriller grips viewers with its unyielding pace, stark visuals, and unsettling reminder that control is often just an illusion.

66 sees Paul Weller embracing his age with a reflective charm, delivering a nostalgic, genre-hopping album that feels like a warm toast to time’s passage—comforting for fans, though occasionally lacking the spark of his earlier work.

“A Man Called Otto” mixes Tom Hanks’ signature warmth with dark comedy and tender moments, creating a film that touches on grief and redemption through community, even if it feels like a Hallmark card for grumpy uncles.

Hit Me Hard and Soft is Billie Eilish at her most haunting and raw, balancing eerie intimacy with emotional gut punches in an album that demands you feel every whisper and beat—it’s dark, tender, and utterly unforgettable.