“You are a pig!” / “I’m a rural farm boy. It’s part of my charm.”

The quote above really sets the tone of The History of Sound (2025). It is a charming movie, a cinematographically soft motion picture, subtle and intimate in execution. It was directed by Oliver Hermanus and written by Ben Shattuck, premiering at the Cannes Film Festival on May 21, 2025. The movie has since won three awards and been nominated nine times. After watching it, I can see why, and I immediately knew I wanted to write an affectionate review for such an affectionate film. That said, I could write what the movie was about, and I could write what the movie was really about. The nuance in interpretation may sound minute, but worth exploring to understand in depth. The film is a soft gay romance, showing how two men fall in love. It centers around these two men, Lionel (Paul Mescal) and David (Josh O’Connor), although the story is essentially told from Lionel’s point of view. It is set at the brink of World War I in 1917 when David is drafted into the military. Just before being drafted, David and Lionel meet in a bar when Lionel noticed David playing an old folksong from his home in Kentucky. It sparked an instant connection sealed by their shared love of music. They were both gifted in music, with Lionel described as having synesthesia, seeing colors in sound, and David having a photographic memory with sound, being able to play or sing to music he’s only heard once. Upon David’s return from being stationed in Europe, the two instantly reconnect and set upon a field research journey to collect and archive regional folk music, hence the name The History of Sound. In their quest, their love is allowed to blossom, and all is well until David decides to part ways after they finish their quest.

Lurker (2025), written and directed by Alex Russell, presents itself as a subliminal film that examines the toxicity of pop culture through an allegory of parasitism in the emergence of fame. At its core, it leans into themes of parasocial obsession, identity construction, and celebrity as a kind of social system. Rather than relying on spectacle, the film grounds itself in perception and lived experience. This comes through most clearly in its use of diegetic characterization, where elements within the film are not just stylistic choices but extensions of the story itself. One of the more interesting ways it does this is through its soundtrack. The film features a bi-layered original score by Kenny Beats, made up of both non-diegetic music and diegetic tracks performed in-character by Archie Madekwe as the pop star Oliver. At first, the songs can come off a bit corny, but they start to click as the film unfolds. “Sweet Talk” plays into charisma and appeal, “Snakes in the Garden” taps into paranoia within the entourage, “Domicile” reflects in-group dynamics, and “Love and Obsession” leans directly into parasocial tension. By the end, the songs feel less like additions and more like a story running alongside the main narrative, quietly reinforcing what the film is trying to say.

At the center of the film are Matthew (Théodore Pellerin) and Oliver, whose personalities operate in tension rather than opposition. Matthew begins as observant and socially aware, positioning himself as nonchalant when meeting Oliver for the first time. He is performative enough to impress Oliver to invite him to hang out at an upcoming show. As his connection to Oliver grows, that observational stance becomes more coercive and manipulative. He does not simply document the environment but begins to shape it, subtly directing outcomes in ways that secure his position. Oliver, by contrast, embodies a form of charisma that feels effortless yet dependent on those around him. He is magnetic and socially fluent; he is not passive in how he holds power, either. He may come off as effortless, almost whimsical, but there is intention behind who he keeps around and how he lives his life. He chooses his circle, and he is fully capable of exerting control when he wants to. When he decides to distance himself from Matthew, it is deliberate, and it shows just how he controls his life. Consequently, Oliver’s entourage feels less like a group of friends and more like a system where everyone is trying to hold their place. Oliver’s friend, Noah (Daniel Zolghadri), is one of the first places where you can see a shift in dynamics. As Matthew gets closer to Oliver, Noah starts to feel less like a friend and more like something that is being left behind. There is a quiet tension there, not because Matthew initially does anything wrong, but because he begins to see him as a replacement. He immediately views Matthew as a threat and acts with jealousy. That same tension plays out in reverse with his work friend, Jamie (Sunny Suljic), growing closer to Oliver as the movie progresses. Same as with Noah, Matthew views Jamie as a threat and does his best to manipulate their growing connection from happening. Not only were the characterizations rich in the film, but the dynamics between them were constructed in a way that landed the allegory of pop culture as a lived experience perfectly. In this way, you see an engulfment of envy and jealousy as a collective driver for behavior.

It's Planet Of The Apes meets Cujo, and it sure isn't pretty. Part of me actually loves this kind of thing, but it has more to do with when the film is than how good or bad the film happens to be. For a lot of critics, we have just spent the better part of our last year being inundated by awards bait in one form or another. Everyone wants your attention right then. I have to vote in two guilds, and honestly by the time it's over and I've managed to cram 60-70 films or more into my holiday activities, I'm more than a little burned out. So after that little break as the new year begins, I always welcome those first films that asks nothing more of me than to sit there and soak it in. There aren't going to be any Best Picture nominations here. No one is going to be buzzing about Primate when we start talking Best Actors and Cinematography. Johannes Roberts isn't expecting me to remember a dang thing about his work when next year's Best Director choices come up. The screenplay is (thank God) completely forgettable, and all I will remember, if I remember anything at all about Primate when the 2026 awards season rolls around, is that it was mindless, and that's exactly what I needed after weeks of press screenings. I hope you guys had a blast making the film, because you gave me exactly what I was looking for ... absolutely nothing. And you got me in and out in UNDER 90 minutes. I love you guys, but I'll forget I said that in a few months. Is that OK? This is going to be a really short love affair. It's the perfect one night stand of movies. But that doesn't mean that I really didn't love you guys for 89 minutes. Thus ends the sermon. Can I get an Amen?

Hears what I remember from a memory already getting a little fuzzy. Fuzzy? Oh, right. There's a chimpanzee named Ben. Perfect name. When I was a kid there was this rat named Ben, and I think he hung out with a young Michael Jackson. That was likely the beginning of the whole Neverland thing. So Ben is the pet chimp of the film's title. Give the folks some credit here. They used a little bit of puppetry and CGI mixed in with some practical makeup f/x, and Ben actually looks pretty lifelike. But the film is always rather dark. Now that could have been a lens issue at our screening. That has been known to happen, or it might have been Roberts using the shadows to get away with more than he might have in the cold light of day. But for the most part, I'll say that watching this chimp go through a rabies infection was more interesting than watching a dog in Cujo. A chimp was actually a pretty brave choice here and added a few points to the film's interest and entertainment value here.

And as if I needed another reason to feel inferior to Rege-Jean Page, he can sing too! This talent was displayed in an impromptu moment in You, Me, and Tuscany, where he provides a rendition of Mario’s Let Me Love You that came as an utter surprise. Naturally, Mr. Page is not the only singing talent in the film, nor would he be the only one to seize an opportunity to showcase that talent. Paired with the live-action embodiment of Ariel herself, Ms. Halle Baily, the two take an old idea and put a new spin on it. You, Me, & Tuscany is an entertaining and enjoyable film that embraces the romance of its location in every possible way. Filmed in Pienza, a town and commune in the province of Siena, Tuscany, in the historical region of Val d'Orcia situated between the towns of Montepulciano and Montalcino, it is considered the "touchstone of Renaissance urbanism". The location is as vibrant as the story, as I found myself admiring the backdrop as much as the story. I’d never given much thought to the idea of visiting Italy, but if it's even half as peaceful and inclusive as the film suggests, I wouldn’t be opposed to booking a ticket.

Bailey plays Anna, a free-spirited, albeit impulsive and rudderless young cook who following a personal tragedy has fallen into the habit of living other people’s lives rather than her making one of her own. This ultimately leads her to make a brash decision to become a squatter in an abandoned Tuscan villa owned by a man she barely knows. What can go wrong? Upon being discovered in the villa by the man’s family, and through her unfathomable decision to put on a engagement ring she found in the house, she is mistaken for the man’s fiancé. This naturally leads to a whole new world of adventure, lies, and love, especially when she meets Michael (Page), the homeowner's cousin.

"Trauma is such a powerful force. If untreated it can slither into all the facets of your life, corrupting until finally it transforms you into something you never wanted. That negative energy, it's what that entity feeds off of. I know this is hard for you to hear, but you need to accept the fear that lives in a world that's both seen and unseen, and part of the unseen world detests humanity and wants to see it destroyed, both physically and spiritually. This entity is as ancient as it is evil. Whatever you do, don't let it get you alone in the dark." 

That's actually good advice that applies to movies. They certainly can get us alone in the dark, and sometimes it's a great time. Sometimes maybe not so much. That can be doubly so with an entry in the "found footage" sub-genre of horror films. Sometimes it's a scream. Sometimes it makes you want to scream ... and not in a good way. That's my feeling about Dream Eaters. They say that too many cooks spoil the broth, and when it comes to these dream eaters, that's likely the biggest problem the film has. With three writers/directors who also happen to be the stars of the film? Yeah, it'll make you want to scream.