The Right to Sex addresses an array of social and ethical issues, but what do they reveal about the metaphilosophical stance her writing embodies?

The film—flirting with ideas ranging from power to subjugation, capitalism to expansionism, greatness to desire—is far from a straightforward sports picture.

David Freyne’s Eternity starts with a premise that sounds like a thought experiment invented to criticize Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence.

In its refusal to resolve, After the Hunt feels less like a typical thriller and more like life: incomplete, irreducible, and frighteningly alive.

The audience can’t help but stare and laugh and squirm as Craig grapples with the loneliness threatening to tear his life apart.

Since humankind creates literature, we know that literature is inevitably imbued with human truths and concerns.

Imagine The Social Network’s twin-tech trickery meets Inglourious Basterds with a pinch of Get Out, and you’re somewhere in the ballpark of Sinners.

“It’s all about sex.” It’s a tagline and mantra. Sex sells, dominates, and defines us. The aphorism has been recycled so often it now reeks of tired familiarity.

Warfare has barely any characters to speak of, no arcs, and no anchors. They are silhouettes, pulses, steady gazes, and trembling fingers on triggers.

The bar is charmingly rough around the edges, where the walls feel like they’ve absorbed sweat and spilled drinks over countless unforgettable nights.

The reactionary right does not need to define what “woke” means. The definition shifts, elastic enough to ensnare any movement, any critique, any person who dares to suggest that the status quo is anything less than just.

A Minecraft Movie was perhaps inevitable. The world’s bestselling game, defined by its limitless possibilities, was bound to attract Hollywood’s attention.

In the world of finance, a unicorn is something to be caught, dissected, and monetized. In Death of a Unicorn, Alex Scharfman takes this premise to a grotesquely literal conclusion.

To call Opus a critique of celebrity culture is to reduce it. It does not merely criticize. It embodies, extends, and ultimately deranges the phenomenon.

Misogyny is not an instinct. It is an education. For many, fraternities provide it.

FINNEAS embodies a melancholic observer of love and fame. Can a song about lonely souls survive when sung by thousands?

This is modern conservatism’s cultural posture: not an inheritance, but a choice, a rejection of complexity in favor of ideological comfort.

DIVE leaves one imagining vignettes of summertime love and longing, recalling memories of a misspent youth.