20 YEARS ON | 2006 — 2026
Twenty years on, Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men has lost none of its urgency: a vision of extinction that asks not whether humanity will survive, but what makes human life matter while it exists.
Elevating The Bride’s revenge tale to the stature of myth, Tarantino’s Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair spends four hours on swords, snow and slaughter to arrive at an improbable conviction: that a future beyond the violence is worth choosing.
In a masterpiece of extraordinary tenderness that affords childhood an almost limitless capacity for wonder without retreating from its uncertainties, Miyazaki imbues Totoro with a reverence that allows the smallest moments to become magnificent and finds, in the ordinary business of living, a beauty worthy of cinema’s greatest imaginings.
Stanley Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut invites us across the threshold of a marriage and into a night of masks and trespass, binding the viewer to Bill’s curiosity until the film withdraws its welcome and leaves its final disclosure to the Harfords alone.
Despite a preoccupation with people desperate to be seen, Rotting in the Sun is most compelling when it recognises someone otherwise barely noticed. Sebastián Silva exposes the distance between artistic vanity and unacknowledged care, but his satire becomes increasingly consumed by that which it seeks to ridicule.
Olivia Wilde turns an indecent invitation into a riotously funny bout of domestic warfare, where an evening of sexual possibility does little to disguise the resentments already in the room.
Claire Scanlon’s The Love Hypothesis races through the relationships that ought to give its romance meaning, mistaking familiar genre conventions for substance while leaving its more compelling questions of consent, autonomy and power frustratingly underexplored.
Jane Schoenbrun revels in the blood-soaked absurdities of the slasher, transforming the genre's familiar spectacle of sex and violence into an expression of desire, artistic freedom and the unexpected intimacy of being understood.
David Lowery’s Mother Mary is a seductive, formally audacious examination of celebrity and intimacy, in which an artist and her muse must confront the identities they created together and the sacrifices they made in the process.
After a long road back to Eternia, Masters of the Universe still does not have the power.
Alex Scharfman's Death of a Unicorn takes aim at capital's ability to turn everything, even the miraculous, into commodity, but ultimately fails to pull the trigger.
