The great Japanese artist Hokusai (36 Views of Mount Fuji) had a daughter who was his apprentice and later his nurse. This recent film shows how she struggled to find her place as a daughter, artist, and woman in The Floating World of Ukiyo-e , 18th century Japan. The Japanese dialogue is wonderfully sparce but rich. Directed by Taku Katô—using lovely, saturated cinematography which gives context to the great acting in this film—Kurara illustrates how love, and art, and family do not go gentle into that good night.

Colorado, 1978. Young Finney is abducted by the “Galesburg Grabber,” a Gacy-esque masked villain. In captivity, the Grabber’s victims call out to Finney (literally) on a disconnected telephone, posthumously sharing their failed survival strategies with him. Make no mistake: this story isn’t about The Grabber. It’s about the importance of male survivors’ voices. Truly, the horror at the heart of The Black Phone is the statistic it circles without disclosing: 1 in 6 men are victims of childhood sexual assault. Beyond the basement, into the audience, some are still awaiting rescue: for them, the phone’s still ringing.

One of the only NYC movies that made me feel like I was heading to my unglamorous, low paying job in Times Square. Director Ramin Bahrani and cinematographer Michael Simmonds use their limited budget to capture the city with an honest, simple, naturalistic style. They depict our sisyphean hero's struggles with just as much honesty and care. Ahmad is a Pakistani ex-rockstar who scrapes by as a breakfast cart vendor. It’s refreshing to watch a movie about the working life that doesn’t romanticize, idealize, or pound our faces in with spoon-fed ideology. Looking for a cinematic hug? Look elsewhere.

A Christmasy Hammer crime movie. That sentence should be enough. Cash on Demand proves that if your story has a strong foundation, you don’t need any frills. You hardly need a budget. Beyond the thrill of the heist is the tale of a bank manager who keeps his emotions locked up in an impenetrable vault (like the money he’s responsible for), and a clever thief who has an earnest interest in his fellow human beings (despite his willingness to torment them for his own gains). A suspenseful little human drama that feels festive without bashing our heads in with it.

You should be the someone watching Lauren Hutton absolutely nail her role in Someone’s Watching Me! She’s endearing as hell in this made-for-TV horror/thriller about a somewhat lonely but upbeat woman named Leigh who is relentlessly harassed by an anonymous stalker. Ya know how sometimes characters feel hollow, like they’re just around to flaunt some writer’s agenda? Ain’t so here thanks to great performances and a balanced screenplay giving us people, not sounding boards. Watch this at night with some popcorn, the lights turned down, and the curtains open wide.

What could have been a humorous buddy flick focusing on the zany antics of two quirky criminals becomes a response to films that idealize just that. It’s a deeper look into the life and times of two low level thugs, one an erratic narcissist and the other a hypersensitive, vengeful, selfish man who is something of a heroic figure in his own mind. But May doesn’t make it easy for us, she humanizes (without romanticizing) them every chance she gets. Some of the best performances I’ve ever seen. It’s a gorgeously lived-in movie, like a quality pair of old jeans.

Five doctors go backpacking in the remote Canadian wilderness. All is (relatively) well until their boots vanish. But vulnerable feet are just the beginning—they’re being hunted. Relationships are strained, past traumas resurface, and tough decisions are made as the pals fight to survive. There's incredible chemistry between the group thanks to convincing performances and witty dialogue. Hal Holbrook shines as on-the-verge-of-burnout idealist, Harry. Despite an uneven finale, you’ll be gasping for breath as you watch these men struggle against things they are underprepared to deal with. Had me ready for my own little therapy session. Also, someone quotes Yeats.

A couple’s self-isolation to avoid modern-day contamination leads to the husband’s existential crisis after he exhausts his interest in music. His wife joins him in derelict Detroit from half a world away to reengage their marriage. They find minimal peace until her sister unexpectedly shows up, and very reluctantly drags them back into the world with deadly consequences. Despite their own social distancing the outing turns deadly. Oh, and they’re vampires. John Hurt portrays their friend, completing an excellent cast to Jim Jarmusch’s 2013 very odd, satisfying film where hard, pointy choices are made.

The Berlin Wall serves as a fitting backdrop for this frenzied psychological drama/horror about a fragmented marriage. Here you’ll find doppelgangers, improperly used electric knives, dead dogs (gods?), crises of faith, and a skeleton in the closet to end all skeletons in the closets. Demoniac performances imbue Possession with a mythic energy—Adjani justifiably gets most of the love, but Neill and Bennent more than hold their own. The whole ordeal is relentlessly fraught with anxiety and impending doom from its distressing opening to its apocalyptic final act. Set aside some recovery time.

Sidney Hayers gave us the best adaptation of Fritz Leiber’s Conjure Wife to date with Night of the Eagle. Written by legends Charles Beaumont and Richard Matheson (with contributions by George Baxt), this 1962 horror centers around a sociology professor who discovers his wife is a witch—and that ain’t all, she’s been protecting him against the evil magic of his jealous colleagues. Will his rigid skepticism destroy them both? Stark lighting and dramatic cinematography draw you into the action. There’s lots to dissect, from gender politics to perception vs reality, but I love this as a relationship story.

Jeff Lieberman capitalizes on the anti-drug propaganda of the ’60s with this wacky little gem. In Blue Sunshine, people are losing their minds . . . and their hair. Jerry Zipkin is falsely accused of murder after his best bud succumbs to this alopeciamania. Now he’s gotta clear his name and act as a (very weird) detective to get to the bottom of it all. Could the answer be linked to a strain of LSD passed around campuses ten years ago? Contains one of the best party scenes that involves pretending to be a monster in all of cinema. Watch with friends.

Q: What happens when you flush an alligator named Ramón down the toilet? A: Ramón will grow impossibly large and ruin a high society wedding. Everyone shows up for this horror thriller, especially Robert Forster who pulls off male pattern baldness like a champ and makes a simple black jacket feel iconic. Constraint and care were taken when showing the alligator itself, creating a believable creature that brings cold malice to a movie that could have been total schlock. Alligator has its fun but works well enough to earn its place in the upper echelon of “serious” animal attack films.

Secrets, guilt, and ghosts. Things start to go downhill when a recently institutionalized woman moves back into the home that she shared with her now-deceased husband. Her son starts acting like a creep, something’s up with the basement, and her new husband thinks she’s having another mental health crisis. Style kept me invested when substance was lacking, or scenes were dragging, or the son was annoying. Great final act and some really effective stuff involving the kid. There's a solid, simple and very memorable jump scare at the end that’ll please any horror fan. Daria Nicolodi goes all out in this one.

During the winter of 1918/’19, two pacifists—one a disillusioned officer during WWI, the other feigning mental illness to avoid service—wrote what would become a gorgeously macabre movie whose influence can still be appreciated today. You can feel the hands that crafted the sets and painted the shadows of this singular, sloping world—it’s a testament to human creativity. With all The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari has to offer (murder, intrigue, suspense, inventive visuals), my favorite scene is when Caligari feeds Cesare. There’s just something oddly sweet about getting a glimpse of the unfortunate duo’s mundane, daily tasks.

Freshly-out-of-prison Yakuza boss Gunji (Kôji Tsuruta) seeks to rebuild his organization in Okinawa, where some opportunity for growth still remains. Will the arrival of an old adversarial family complicate an already difficult situation? You know it will. Everyone’s talking about guts in this thing, and our protagonist has ’em to spare. His unflappable demeanor and cold confidence regardless of the circumstances is both exciting and anxiety inducing. The popping jazzy soundtrack and stylish direction by Kinji Fukasaku presents this dangerous criminal underworld in a hip little package. Loved Tomisaburô Wakayama as Yonabaru, the brutish one-armed gangster. Worth a watch for sure.

Comprised of a series of vignettes weaved together like a book of poetry, Killer of Sheep is anchored by both a place (Watts LA area) and a person (Stan, played by Henry G. Sanders). Stan’s crappy job at a slaughterhouse has killed his spirit. He’s kind, but exhausted and filled with a haunting ennui that threatens his marriage. Music permeates this slice-of-life masterpiece in sudden and surprising ways, lending magic to even the simplest moments (but the quiet ones are also soaked with meaning and beauty). Burnett’s first major work is gorgeous, sad, and raw, but not without hope.