Nikole Beckwith's platonic-romantic comedy Together Together, about a single dad and his surrogate pregnancy, is surprisingly meditative – honing in on social pressures, generational struggles and the inherent loneliness of navigating both.

Quentin Dupieux's Keep An Eye Out is a smart mashing of the worlds of commercial art versus personal art. It's surprisingly straight foward but, in the surreal world of Dupieux, making sense does not always land you where you thought it would.

At a time when giving toxic male personalities a second look may feel almost like a step backwards, Hemingway makes a strong case for trying. Novick and Burns tackle Hemingway's troubled legacy by looking at his life through his wives, working to separate the myth from the decidedly more interesting man.

Finally, a movie that acknowledges how Jewish mysticism can freak people out just as well as any ol’ Christian folk horror. L’chaim!

Matthew Rankin’s The Twentieth Century is like if Guy Madden and Ken Russell discovered a portal to the 1920s while playing playing laser tag against Monty Python’s animations. You know, your run of the mill biopic on a moderate Canadian politician.

Horror sci-fi Synchronic focuses on drug addiction, sudden death, the harsh realities of the past, and unintentional time travel. While you wish it scratched past the surface a bit more than it does, it’s still one of the better sci-fi offerings we’ve had in the last few years.

Finally a college movie for the rest of us! I’m talking about those of us who spent their so-called “best years” mostly talking on the phone with their parents, eating take-out in their rooms and crying in the shower. Perhaps if I had had Shithouse I wouldn’t have felt so alone.

The Cinema of Ettore Scola is an essential addition for the shelves of those who have wondered what contextual nuances they might have been missing out on, or anyone who has wanted to dip their toes into the wonderful world of Italian political satire.

Ruthlessly bloody, indulgent and like watching Lars Von Trier primp in the mirror for two-and-a-half hours, The House That Jack Built is surprisingly watchable. A little insufferable, big time pretentious, but darkly funny and strangely digestible.

Between women still being inundated with toxic ideals and Chelsea Peretti’s trademark style of acting, Spinster becomes a lovely and funny movie about how much better we can be when we stop trying to be better for others.

Tesla de-claws the myth of the angry male genius who is simultaneously punished and celebrated by society as a superior being. Almereyda’s Tesla is instead portrayed as a bundle of neuroses whose naive utopian ideals are as much the key to his downfall as they are to his genius.

The brilliance of She Dies Tomorrow is in how it weaponizes the anxiety of anticipation. The finality of death, in comparison, feels far less terrifying than having to live in fear of its inevitability.

One might imagine the caliber of free movies on YouTube to be dismal to painful, but it turns out that a large portion of what is available without payment is surprisingly… good. Veronica talks vampire ladies, stoner humor and psychic dogs, all free on YouTube right now.

Kino Lorber has just released three beautifully restored queer films from the Weimar era on VOD: Michael (1924), Mädchen in Uniform (1931) and Victor and Victoria (1933)

The experience of seeing Cats, especially at a late-night or rowdy screenings, is like trying to solve a brain-teaser in a karaoke bar on a rollercoaster. Guest contributor PJ Kryfko lays out who, what, and how of Cats, as well as why he will be watching it for the rest of his life.

Gaspar Noé’s Irreversible is known for its unflinchingly brutal rape scene, but what Veronica found more unforgivable was how boring the whole movie was.

Picture yourself on a truck on a lawn, with a general unease and an outer space high. Lucy in the Sky indulges in tired tropes and gimmicks, but its most egregious mistake is focusing on space when the drama’s down here on earth.

Onur Tukel’s The Misogynists tickles an intellectually vouyeristic itch by peering into the minds of people who were actually happy after the 2016 election. There is something cathartic about the film’s fly-on-the-wall approach to analyzing people through their political convictions–though the darts Tukel throws at the left hit much closer to home.

Veronica was impressed by how honest Nick Nolte’s autobiography Rebel is. From being open about his struggles with mental illness and drugs, to his love to acting and unconventional women, there’s more to Nick Nolte than that one mug shot.

Liberté is as much about human nature versus society as it is about tongue versus butt. Albert Serra casts the audience in the role of the vouyer, using the act of observation as a meta commentary on nature, pleasure and freedom.