Where the Hell is Anna? (2026)

“Love makes you do crazy things.”

When you find that special someone in your life, especially a friend, you will do anything for them. Even after years of separation or distance, you may find yourself wondering where they ended up and how they are doing. If you're lucky, you actually reconnect and pick up where you left off. That's exactly the place where Derick (Taylor Dupuis) finds herself, and also the last place she would ever imagine being.

In Where the Hell is Anna?, Derick lets the love for her estranged best friend Anna (Allison Shrum) get caught up in all kinds of unpredictable places. Namely, following Anna to the middle of nowhere after discovering she has joined a "wellness retreat" called Arcana. The plan is to become a member, stay calm, avoid drinking or eating any substances, find proof, don't panic, and come up with an escape plan. The rules are straight-forward enough in black and white, but pulling her and Anna out to safety is more complicated than it seems. Anna is fated to a ceremony of the highest honor that will prepare her for an idyllic higher-dimension ascendance called Summerland. But as Derick becomes more ingratiated with the women and lifestyle around her, all of their demons come back to haunt them.

Both dreamy and petrifying, this horror is a refreshing blend of psychological suspense and light comedy. As her first feature film, Dupuis is a filmmaker to watch out for having directing, written, co-producing and starring in Where The Hell is Anna? She has an uncanny vision of letting the film act with self-awareness of the journey Derick is taking to enter a cinematic familiar territory and hit beats of similar flicks like Midsommar – the drug-induced flashbacks, the mistrust of other characters, and well-placed jump scares. She also never lets the awareness of the genre itself venture overboard to lose sight of how such an isolating environment takes advantage of the characters looking to heal from wounds brought on by the outside world. 

Maybe even more refreshing than the tone between consistent high-stakes and intermittment levity is the script never losing sight of the ensemble, particularly Derick and Anna who have plenty of moments to build the foundation of how their bond became fractured. Even outside of Dupuis as the sharp-witted Derick, and Allison Shrum as her good-natured bestie, is Arcana  family - Meg Barlowe, Jess Kean. Kenzie Wynne, Madison Hunwick, Lauren Whistle and Matthew Crosby, to name a few. A thread of sisterhood weaves throughout the film that intends and succeeds of ensuring the story doesn't sensationalize why people fall for a joining a cult, and focuses more on the reasons why people are drawn together when they are missing something important in their own lives – whether that is to alleviate grief or heartbreak, or find a sense of belonging and purpose. The daily meditations, newly assigned names, and cottage-core aesthetics are only a thin veil to the alluring world of Arcana and the sinister work taking place behind the scenes. And the ensemble does a stellar job providing the warmth and vulnerability to the surreal and eery.

The film also draws on the remarkable collaboration of Dupuis' production team. Once Derick crosses the threshold into the serene, isolated forest bathing under the sun and the trickling streams, it's not long before the beautiful also becomes terrifying. The deeper Derick ventures into Arcana, more of the natural elements are spotlighted from daylight to night, from earth, to water, and eventually fire that complements the shifts in tone with the plot. The cinematography by Tyler Oaks, with editing by Kate Jones, creates a pensive and propulsive isolation by fully taking advantage of the outdoors (all filmed on-site rural Tennessee) and Arcana's nearby cabins. Adding to the suspense is a great soundtrack by John Taylor, whose fully original score adds a haunting resonance.

Dupuis takes full advantage of every scene and doesn't let it go to waste both on-screen and behind the camera. Ultimately, Where the Hell is Anna? is a prime example of what movie-goers can find with independent cinema. In this case, a perfect blend of heart and horror as well as intense hard-work and dedication. With this film as the jumping point for her debut feature, one can only imagine and can't wait to see what she might take on next.

Rating: ★★★★★ 

Note: Where the Hell is Anna? is currently premiering at the Nashville Film Festival. This review is provided with the availability of a screener. All opinions are my own.

Littermates (2026)

Gunfire echo throughout the English countryside as a helpless young man (later given the name Liam, played by Joey Bader) running for his life comes across Chester (Oliver Woolf) in the middle of a forest. He offers his hand and an escape to  safety. It's not exactly what Chester does but what he says - “Let me help you.” - that sets up the rollercoaster ride of Littermates.

If you watch enough dystopian dramas or post-apocalyptic films, these four words could be the exact call a distressed character needs to be rescued, or the threat that will draw them into an even more deadly situation than merely surviving a zombie apocalypse or natural disaster. To be honest and fair, just by the looks of Liam, he could use a lot of help. Out of breath, shell-shocked, and unaware of his surroundings, Liam's also lost his motor functions and he has no memory of who he is. But Chester is there like a guardian angel arriving just in the nick of time; to clothe, bathe, and help his new friend recover his speech and selfhood.

To Liam, and later a second survivor Mel (Kaylee McGregor), what's going on around and to them should set them on edge. Who or what war does Liam and Mel need saving from? How does Chester remain so cool and collected when his cottage rests on the border of endless airstrikes? Has the world truly ended or is it some kind of facade? In the precarious world of Littermates, their newfound home is a relatively perfect safe haven - comfortable enough for the characters to create a make-shift family complete with the younger adults vying for attention and acceptance from Chester. Within their four comfortably furnished walls complete with electricity, Chester doles out nifties, or coins, for good behavior and actions, and can be redeemed for time in the hot tub, music with headphones, dance party, karaoke, or an adventure in the forest. As far as the eye can see, there isn't aid nor further distressed survivors for miles despite the endless airstrikes in the background. If they're safe, what is there to argue or fight against?

Breaking the film into chapters - nifty, mel, tattle, and kin – the tension builds as the story mostly focuses on the dynamics between the characters. With a small cast of three, Bader, McGregor, and Woolf avoid playing into the extended world-building with wide-eyed innocence, teenager-angst, and guarded connection. An appearance of familiarity and routine camouflages the disorientation behind their bond along with Mike Woloson's (who also serves as co-writer) cinematography steadily panning the world around them, and composer Noa Margalits's dreamy score. Equal parts unsettling, wry, and emotionally engaging, the film strikes an unique balance between dystopia and coming of age.

Nothing about Littermates is typically “normal” as the mysteries looms large for most of its running time. Director and writer Scott Tinkham with Woloson and their crew draw on a clever slow-burn to make the surreal feel ordinary, building toward memorable and worthwhile twists. Any dystopian stereotypes Tinkham and Woloson could take advantage of are refreshingly avoided as they hold strong focusing on the characters and tone much like Yorgos Lanthimos' Bugonia and The Lobster. It's one of several films in recent memory where I suggest going into with as little knowledge of the full plot as possible; its inventive and intriguing concept is difficult to shake long after its over when you're left to indulge in the surprises.

Rating: ★★★★★ 

Note: This review is provided with the availability of a screener. All opinions are my own. 

Backrooms (2026)

A picture of an abandoned room plastered in worn pastel yellow wallpaper took the internet by storm on 4chan in 2019. The internet myth went viral as millions of people came across the anonymous user's post on a paranormal board, and were collectively hit with a feeling of familiarity and surreality. Over the years, every other person's thoughts layered and confirmed the suspense what could this place mean? until it was reimagined on youtube with found footage films by director Kane Parsons. Individually, and collectively on reddits like r/creepypasta, the lore expanded further - turning the office walls and rooms into labyrinths filled with endless background noise, sterile florescent lights, and entities or monsters inhabiting the space.

This post contains spoilers.

Project Hail Mary (2026)

 

Everything is figure-outable. And in times like these days where the world is on fire and minute-to-minute news feels like we're past the brink of losing it all, it's refreshing to watch a film jettisoning us to space in the hope of saving humanity and holding into our future. Its star and my forever bae Ryan Gosling spent six years bringing the mammoth novel by Andy Weir to life, and a lot of that love shines on screen from the incredible production design and score, to the essential element of the film - his character's friendship with an alien Rocky, whose own planet is also being slowly eaten away by alien bacteria called Astrophage. 

I wish there was something more worth mentioning here about the astrophage, but contrary to the 500+page novel where every problem to be solved introduces another (and the problems are just biology, astrophysics, relativity, to say the least), the movie deals with the conflict of what Ryland and Rocky are working against a little too subtly. Having read the book last summer in a sprint / binge to return it to the library on time with its million holds waiting behind me, I wondered how was the film going to deliver a crash course in so many convoluted scenes to life. For the most part, the film kinda riddles it down to cliff notes, a few sentences in passing here and there. It almost feels like even if you came across the book before it wasn't essential reading material to understand what was going on here. And for that reason, there's a lot missing out with the script when the plot doesn't pertain to Ryland and Rocky's camaraderie - which is 85%-ish of the movie.

Comparatively to another adaptation of Andy Weir's The Martian, the film doesn't merely assume its audiences has a basic knowledge of Mars and skims over all the nitty-grittiness of Matt Damon's Mark Watney trying to get home to Earth. The script considers how to bring you along on the journey of why life is not hospitable; how he'll grow enough potatoes until NASA can save him; how NASA at home is building shuttles to get to him before anything more dire happens; every detail is defined in a way that is both digestible and essential to the characters mission, and it doesn't feel like one long boring science class -at least to me. 

With Project Hail Mary, the story condenses or moves past a lot of rich details so quickly, I missed it - like how Ryland is able to transfer Rocky's natural voice to a human one is because it's made up of music; the complexity of astrophage is as a species and why it's so impenetrable in its trek from the sun to Venus; how Grace learns that Earth survives and his sacrifice was worth it. I kept waiting to feel the fuller weight of Ryland's mission, and to understand what it is he's trying to figure out - not step by step like I'm five and need to be explained like a child. But more like, going back to the beginning, everything is figureoutable. For that to feel more real, in a sense, it's not that everything is figureoutable simply because it eventually gets solved but with the whys and hows too. No matter how gorgeous, adventurous and heartfelt the "showing" is, sometimes a little more telling goes a long way.

Sometimes a movie comes along that re-awakens us about what we're yearning for. At the height of the COVID pandemic where we were losing our minds and collective souls in lockdown, Chloe Zhao's Oscar winning Nomadland reset our nervous system with its atmospheric, natural setting reminded us of the singular isolation we burdened ourselves with and collective connection to our environment and each other we were sorely missing. The cinematography and production design, and the ability to produce an IMAX sci-fi film to this scale with 99% practical effects will have all of us scratching our heads for years to come, and probably every re-watch, just as much as our hearts will swell watching Ryland and Rocky's friendship. But at the same time, directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller's pacing to be equally parts going through the motions story-wise and visually immersive. 

As Ryan Gosling has said during the promo tour it is more of Hollywood's responsibility to deliver films that helps audiences go to the theaters. Alas, this crew is providing a great escape and giving a much-needed sign of hope that things are not too far gone both in movies, and life at large. That in itself, is AMAZE AMAZE AMAZE.

Rating: ★★★1/2☆☆

Blue Moon (2025)

Set several months before songwriter Lorenz Hart (Ethan Hawke) passes away of complications of pneumonia brought on by alcoholism, he spends a night out at the iconic restaurant Sardi's as his old songwriting partner Richard Rodgers (Andrew Scott) celebrates the premiere of Oklahoma! and goes on to have a legendary creative partnership with Oscar Hammerstein II. 

Director Richard Linklater essentially composes a play to film, centering on a one-set location and tiny ensemble to steer Robert Kaplow's wondrous script. As a dialogue driven drama, there's a His Girl Friday pace to the tone of what is said. Think about anything else than what is being heard on screen, and you might miss the string of fast paced one quips Hawke hits out of the park or the painful ruminations as Hart misunderstands his essential part in theatre and fame's grand scheme.

Simultaneously revered and forgotten by his contemporaries, the old world of Hart's success and congeniality slips away as he slides further into another round and another shot, talking profusely to anyone really within earshot. The evening heavily relies on others in Sardi's to entertain his passionate observations and bruised ego - author E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy), a bartender (Bobby Carnavale), lobby pianist (Jonah Lees) among others. Most, if not all, of the movie revolves around the tempo and majesty of Ethan Hawke commanding the written word, delivering wide-eyed yet cynical monologues about life, love, art, beauty, storytelling, theatre, and music, conveyed by artists and writers Hart thinks are greater than he, all the while ignoring his own spectacular expression for universal truth through words - sung, spoken, and written.

No matter how much the introspection fuels Hawke's dazzling performance, it also at times struggles to support Hart's all-consuming fixation towards his muse Elizabeth, played by Qualley. Though their part of the story is inspired by the real letters the Hart and Elizabeth shared, there isn't a lot conveyed about the latter except how the men around her contend if she's actually beautiful or 'fuckable'. And, even her core motivation to even be in Hart's presence is that he pull through on his promise to introduce her to Rodgers. Most the running time is dedicated to building up Elizabeth who is awkwardly blocked in and out of the physical space, and mythologized by dated ideas and limited intentions. We are eventually meant to see her as Hart does, but Qualley is unfortunately left to deliver an ill-paced monologue that doesn't match the singularity of Hawke on his own or the verbal woes he shares with the respectful and frustrated Rodgers who struggles to move on from his mentor. Even though Hart and Elizabeth's reciprocity of unrequited love means to draw a deeper connection than what meets the eye, there isn't enough chemistry to make them come to life with more nuance.

If this were a 'bigger' movie, I would squabble that the trailer gives the impression of a wry quirky love triangle - the break up of a songwriter and composer duet by a stunning socialite caught in the middle. In a lot of ways, this is that movie, but the film's temperature is harder to gauge and manages to be unexpectedly emotional. Much of the charismatic ease of Blue Moon is turned on its head; it's less like a party and more like a wake, where a vibrant group of established and aspiring artists are moving head and heart first where art is leading them, all the while walking on eggshells around a beloved phantom who swears he has more life in him and yearns for more credit than what he's respectfully given. Almost as much as Hawke's all-encompassing monologues, there are as many quiet moments where an aggrieved expression of self-deprecation or far-off stance outside of the reception doubles down to feeling left out and forgotten, impeded by his own expectations - the mechanics of what transpires on-screen was inspiring but its core left me wilted and devastated. The shorthand trust between Linklater and Hawke is evident from the opening scene - after all they've spent twenty years collaborating together on a variety of projects; ten of which were intermittently spent revisiting Kaplow's mammoth script. Their collective care and magic makes this quite the miracle in our algorithm driven age, where the warm haze of Sardi's welcomes you, like Hart, to stay for a while; soak it in, think, dream a little, laugh, cry, listen to a story or two, wear your heart on your sleeve - there might be something to learn, and even a time gone by to wistfully mourn for.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror Picture Show (2025)

The Rocky Horror Picture Show has been on a strange journey since it debuted fifty years ago. Linus O'Brien, son of musical creator Richard O'Brien, traces back the phenomenal musical to its heyday when his father first started working out the idea of transvestite scientist Frank-N-Furter with his cohorts and their run-in with straight-laced couple Brad and Janet. 

When experiencing in person, or merely observing, the underground yet global reception of Rocky Horror Picture Show today, it's tough to believe that the theatrical production originally began with such humble beginnings - O'Brien putting his own feelings of gender and belonging to the page, assembling a ragtag group cast and crew who eventually hopped the pond over to the Roxy Theatre in L.A., and then becoming cemented as a film classic. And yet, as the LGBTQ+ community faces more and more challenges, the show never goes out of style, kept continually revived by midnight theatrical runs, fan clubs, and shadow casts. 

But what happened that made it go from a theater production without props or stage, to earning a documentary in its own right, is the stuff interviews are made of. Sitting down with his father, and the cast/crew who made the production possible - director Richard Hartley, actors Tim Curry, Barry Bostwick, Patricia Quinn, Susan Surandon costumer Sue Blane, and more - the film provides a heartfelt overview of how the show came to be and continues to live on. As much as Rocky Horror Picture Show defines how much Richard O'Brien gave of themselves to make the musical, it also shows how much the fans give back to it - with an insightful opening from Trixie Mattell, who found their drag identity through a shadow cast production, and a sweet tribute to Sal Piro, one of the first and most influential superfans, who passed away in 2023. 

Linus O'Brien's documentary is a mostly tidy chronological depiction that is a fun introduction to new fans and might make some hardcore fans want it to dig a little deeper. Some questions about how Richard O'Brien created the music or how the musical workshopped its way in theater between kitsch and commentary is left more towards reminiscing than exploring the process. Its heart beats strongest reflecting how its characters and message unlocks a certain kind of freedom within. Much like the musical itself, Strange Journey is a snapshot into a world where acceptance is celebrated and grows more prevalent with each decade.

Rating: ★★★1/2☆☆

The Jurassic Games: Extinction (2025) Review

From The Belko Experiment and Gamer to the cultural phenomenon of The Hunger Games and Squid Games, criminals, tributes, and down-on-their-luck strangers have entered arenas in a fight to the death and earn a victory garnering freedom, wealth, a second chance at life. The types of arenas, violence, and contestants have changed over time, but the spectacle of survival, moral compromises, and engineered chaos reimagines the same question - what would some do to be the last one standing?

Just when one might think the underlying genre had tackled the concept in every imaginable way, director and writer Ryan Bellgardt entered the domain in 2018 with The Jurassic Games, a sci-fi flick where ten death row inmates were thrown into a virtual reality gauntlet against prehistoric beasts in exchange for freedom.

Now, he returns with a sequel, and like all sequels do, rewriting essential elements of the original film, with The Jurassic Games: Extinction – where domestic terrorists branded as “The Cavemen” face off against each other, with only one evading a lethal injection if they survive. Additionally, a lone survivor from the original Tucker (Adam Hampton) re-enters to dismantle it from the inside against his foe Jo LaFort (Katie Burgess) who has seemingly taken control of the games.

It's hard not to see the fun in Bellgardt's ideas – criminals facing off against each other as and against dinosaurs in a virtual reality game as murdertainment for the masses – as well as absurd. But when it comes to both the Jurassic and human elements of the film, they are impressively realized given the production scale. Characters donning Iron-Man esque helmets, the animorphs, and a wide variety of virtual reality landscapes (including volcanoes and a capture the flag maze filled with raptors) offer a familiar feel to carefully orchestrated digital landscapes such as Tron or prisoners on a murder spree such as The Condemned. With his extensive background in special effects, as well as a solid cast that commits to the bit without hesitation, there is plenty here to keep the film as grounded and visually pleasing as possible.

However, as bombastic as the ideas are here, there are simply too many operatives vying for control on-screen. Entering an arena against and turning into dinosaur animorphs screams unpredictability and chaos, and yet the script is following the rules the genre has been defined by. Whether the players strategize or play it safe to survive, the game's operating system (and there are several iterations throughout) is mostly concerned with maintaining the public's approval. This should essentially push more violence to do whatever it takes to meet audiences' fascination, but whichever choices the characters makes, the coding merely adjusts to what will garner the highest rating or social trends.  Outside of few brief shots of viewers cheering or highlights of scenes turning out high and even higher ratings, there's not much at stake as far as the world-building goes. Bellgardt's script, The God (the Game’s Operating Device), the AI systems evolving to take over, or the human tech crews feels stuck in limbo, making victory feel more like a stalemate than a pressurized power keg.

Ultimately, brawls to the death, between gladiators, or criminals, will always have an enduring appeal. And, The Jurassic Games: Extinction, and its predecessor, is a fun ride with plenty of creative flourishes – one that can lead to a fun late night double-feature. For an independent film, the production value here is worth appreciating, especially as film veers further and further away from B-movie blockbusters. Despite its out of the box concept, even the execution of criminal punishment battling virtual dinosaurs can be pretty predictable.

Rating: ★★★☆☆ 

The Jurassic Games: Extinction is available on digital and on demand, and will be available on Blu-Ray and DVD on July 22.