Best movies of 2026

Christopher Nolan’s *The Odyssey*: A cinematic masterpiece—or a bloated vanity project drowning in its own pretensions?

A review of Kristoffer Borgli’s acclaimed A24-produced film. A suffocating, uncomfortable, and brilliant journey into the mental collapse of an engaged couple.

Milla Jovovich returns to what she does best: kicking asses with a poker face. Adrian Grünberg keeps the pace, but the script limps along. Minor work? Absolutely. Necessary? Also.

A psychological horror film that will make you question reality—if you can stomach the stench of its decay.

A scathing, nihilistic takedown of Curry Barker’s *Obsession*—where passion curdles into madness, and the only twist is how predictably it all unravels.

Na Hong-jin trades bureaucratic incompetence for cosmic isolation in a horror exercise as relentless as it is desolating.

Crystal Lake dissects Pam Voorhees' past in a prequel that overly humanizes a myth that worked much better as an inscrutable shadow.

Phil Lord and Christopher Miller turn Andy Weir's interstellar survival into an indulgent crowd-pleaser where Ryan Gosling saves humanity with banter. 💀

A scathing review of the horror flick *Evil Dead Rise*—where family drama burns brighter than the demons.

Anne Hathaway and Ewan McGregor lead this claustrophobic descent where the unknown isn’t a monster—it’s reality itself unraveling at the seams. Mitchell proves once again that the most terrifying horror is the kind that festers in the intimate.

Almodóvar turns holiday grief into an intimate, visually stunning, and emotionally raw drama. Bárbara Lennie shines, but the script stumbles in the third act. 8/10.

Baltasar Kormákur drags the hunt thriller into the realm of the one-take shot and Icelandic Nouvelle Vague. Charlize Theron shines, but the script limps like a wounded stag.

A film that flings wide the door to mystery and terror—if you dare to step through

Juanma Bajo Ulloa returns with a gothic thriller that reeks of scorched celluloid and dried blood. Does *Evil* escape the folklore of domestic terror, or does it drown in its own symbolism?

Natalie Erika James serves up a chilling dish: a gothic nightmare about dysmorphia and ravenous ghosts. Too pretentious or just macabre enough?

*A scathing takedown of the horror series everyone’s raving about—spoiler: it’s not that deep.*

Yeon Sang-ho abandons the rails to trap biotech paranoia in a smart building. Analytical critique from Claqueta Ácida.

Odin Lagbert dissects David Janoff's digital nightmare where Kevin Hart and Kai Cenat monetize a real crime in grueling real-time.

An enthusiastic approach to Don't Leave the Kids Alone, where Emilio Portes deconstructs genre cinema with mastery and bad intentions.

Lance Oppenheim dissects the circus of television morality in Primetime, revealing that the true predator was always the host himself.

Jan Komasa locks a violent young man in the basement of a family determined to “rehabilitate” him. Stephen Graham, Andrea Riseborough and Anson Boon carry a neo-gothic fable as unsettling as it is uneven.

A scathing, pitch-black critique of the horror flick 'Night Passenger'—where cinematic analysis meets the kind of wit that leaves third-degree burns.

Claqueta Ácida’s scathing, sarcastic take on *They Will Kill You*—where Manhattan’s elite throw the goriest housewarming party in cinematic history.

Travis Knight directs an ambitious adaptation of the classic Eternia universe, striving to balance cutting-edge digital effects with the heart and soul of the original franchise.

Dante Sangre dissects V/H/S/Mixtape, an autopsy of the analog format as a cultural trench against contemporary tyrannical digital surveillance.

A sequel that smells rotten from the very first frame. Garland and DaCosta try to revive the genre, but the result is a technical knockout dressed up as a masterpiece.

Gore Verbinski turns an AI apocalypse into a neighborhood vaudeville with Sam Rockwell and Juno Temple. It works—until it drowns in 40 minutes of futuristic sermonizing.

Discover the release of Clayface in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Whalefall in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Beware Boiúna in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Street Fighter in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of The Invite in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of The Magic Faraway Tree in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Other Mommy in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Digger in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Lucky Strike in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Fall 2: Deadpoint in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Forgotten Island in theaters and streaming.

Discover the release of Heart of the Beast in theaters and streaming.

The most scathing, unfiltered roast of *Spider-Man: Brand New Day*, the latest installment in the Wall-Crawler’s saga—now with 100% more existential dread and 0% less corporate cowardice.

Bob Odenkirk and a Derek Kolstad script try to salvage a rural thriller drowning in its own ambition. Wheatley plays Coen wannabe, but ends up directing a Fargo episode with the world’s worst hangover.

Dina Silva gives everything as a Los Angeles singer-songwriter who snaps against the industry that humiliates her for her body. A furious indie slasher with more personality than development.

A scathing critique of *Horror and Love*, the film that blends terror and romance like a drunk chef mixing bleach and tequila—equally toxic, equally unforgettable.

A dark fable by Jang Joon-yeop that dances between the poetic and the pretentious. A choreography of shadows and silences, but it lacks the teeth to bite.

A review of Antoine Fuqua’s ambitious musical biopic about Michael Jackson. A dazzling technical and choreographic spectacle that stumbles when it comes to addressing the real shadows behind the myth.

Roth turns ice cream into a metaphor for adult guilt in this summer slasher that freezes nostalgia in its tracks.

Casper Kelly pushes the cathodic format toward the abyss of labor retention in this orange-unicorn nightmare.

Dhruv Tripathi films a descent into the depths of journalism in Live, where identity dissolves like stolen sand.

Ben Affleck directs a claustrophobic thriller where money cannot buy freedom, only the absolute certainty of failure.

Tim Federle signs a Disney teen fantasy where the magic of New Orleans hides a machinery of social capital and institutional abuse.

A cynical approach to Benjamin Finkel's feature debut, where domestic terror becomes an administrative error from the great beyond.

A scathing critique that dissects Janus Metz's thriller, where the FBI becomes an accomplice to terror.

Explosive action disguised as a thriller, but which actually laments the death of the Navy SEAL myth. Sarcastic, tired, but with flashes of truth.

Paul Greengrass signs a desolating elegy on the 14th-century peasant rebellion that exposes the absolute impotence of the individual against the system.

An acidic analysis of Michael Showalter's Verity. The fantasy of the ghostwriter as a metaphor for the structural violence of the industry.

A mordacious review that dissects the new Insidious installment, caught between worn-out shadows and flashes of genuine terror.

A troupe of ballerinas trapped in a remote inn discovers the real horror isn’t the killers—it’s their own choreography. A critique laced with venom and glitter.

Lee Cronin takes the Universal classic, strips off its golden bandages of nostalgia, and drags it through the muck of visceral body-horror and demonic possession.

A surgical incision into Guy Ritchie's film that leaves more purulent tissue than adrenaline. Sarcasm and necrosis across 97 minutes.

Hugh Jackman dons the tunic one last time—or so the title claims. Redemption or just an autopsy of a myth that’s been rotting on the vine?

Johannes Roberts turns a rabid premise into a tropical nightmare dripping with more sweat than scares. Is it worth it? Yes—but not for the reasons you’d think.

A scathing review of *Whistle: The Deathly Hiss*, the horror flick with a cursed whistle that’s about as fresh as a week-old corpse

An intellectual autopsy of Dead Residents Evil, where Ryan Ebert and The Asylum wield the promise of a cure as the ultimate mechanism of infection.

A podcast host moves in with her ailing mother and uncovers cursed tapes. Spoiler: the real horror is the script.

Maggie Gyllenhaal drags Frankenstein into the 1930s: more makeup than meaning, a romance that burns neither hot nor cold, and an edit that feels like it was sliced with nail scissors. Passed with flying colors… if the colors were all the same shade.

Jane Schoenbrun turns a summer camp into a dumpster fire of hormones and clichés. Art or autopsy of a dying subgenre?

Miguel Ángel Lamata delivers a supernatural thriller with more cobwebs in the script than in the mansion itself. Amaia Salamanca shines, but the rest is déjà vu fit for a post-lunch nap.

A Japanese supernatural drama that reeks of cheap incense and telenovela tears. A masterpiece of intimate terror or a kimono-clad exercise in self-indulgence?

Laura Casabé adapts Mariana Enríquez with more sweat than terror. An Argentine summer that reeks of mosquito repellent and textbook clichés.

Timo Tjahjanto unleashes another hyperviolent bloodbath under the banner of XYZ and Edko Films. Tiger Chen’s return and Yayan Ruhian’s feral mysticism gift us with razor-sharp choreography and a stellar visual package, but the alarming lack of dramatic pacing and a generic script riddled with clichés prevent this fistfest from becoming the instant classic it promised to be. We dissect the film’s physical triumphs and narrative shipwrecks in our latest acidic takedown.

Cindy Campbell and Brenda Meeks are back in another installment of *Scary Movie*, ready to parody A24 and Blumhouse’s latest horror hits—because nothing says "fresh comedy" like recycling jokes from 2003.

Jesse McKeown delivers a tale of geographic isolation disguised as a sea monster that barely manages to stay afloat in Under the Surface.

Diego Velasco delivers in The Whistler an exercise where resource scarcity lays bare the seams of the modern thriller.

Frances Neagley steps into the spotlight on Prime Video in a derivative procedural that swaps bone-crushing physicality for algorithmic inertia. 💀

Ridley Scott adapts Peter Heller's post-apocalyptic elegy with formidable visual muscle, but systematically strips the narrative of any authentic human grief. 💀

A scathing critique of Andrew Patterson's pseudo-epic, where honey turns into poison and bluegrass sounds like a squeak.

Louis Leterrier delivers a claustrophobic thriller with more holes than a Swiss cheese factory. Greta Lee shines, but the script drowns in its own flop sweat. A masterpiece? Not even close.

A review of Jon Favreau’s *Star Wars* film—a feature-length production that feels like a stretched-out TV episode, solely designed to rescue Disney’s merchandising division.

Aaron Sorkin attempts to put Big Tech on trial but ends up reproducing the very same cheap dopamine he purports to denounce in The Price of the Network.

Nicholas Pineda debuts with a found-footage film about an abandoned psychiatric hospital where the body-cam acts as an implacable judge.

Bastian Noir dissects the vertical horror sequel directed by Michael Spierig and Peter Spierig. Is it genuine terror or mere relational claustrophobia?

An analytical dissection of Abhishek Pathak's so‑called conclusion and his inability to deliver any real certainties.

Adam Wingard swaps ontological mystery for a gray and predictable military plot in an action exercise as polished as it is empty.

Sam Raimi tries to resurrect the spirit of *Cast Away* with an unbearable boss and a Rachel McAdams who deserved so much better. The result? A shipwreck of ideas.

Grace is back to reclaim a throne, but the script only offers plastic chairs. Is this bloody déjà vu worth the trip? Claqueta Ácida carves it open with a scalpel.

Adrian Chiarella delivers this 'Australian exorcism' that hovers between gothic pretension and unintentional absurdity. Art or autopsy of a soulless script?

Paco Campano serves us a cocktail of cheap psychedelia and rusted robotics in 'Quantum Rave.' Art or cosmic vomit? Claqueta Ácida decides with boxing gloves on.

Spielberg peddles yet another alien invasion—this time with carnival-grade effects and dialogue straight out of a self-help manual. The truth stings worse than those bargain-bin UFOs.