In her article, Hannah Smith analyzes believability and subjectivity in Lance Oppenheim and Nathan Fielder’s You Can See Everything (2026) through a focus on camera work and dialogue. She argues that the questions their documentary asks are not ones of truth, but ones that hinge on belief—or disbelief—in the subject.

We often like to point out other people’s biases, but why don’t we examine our own? In the mercurial You Can See Everything, Nathan Fielder and Lance Oppenheim explore this question through a mind-bending kaleidoscope of perspectives, semantics, and doubt. By the end, the most unsettling subject isn’t Elizabeth Holmes but the documentarian himself, and the audience, who, like Fielder, tend to hear exactly what we need to.

In this piece, Sam Dameron reviews Zach Cregger’s newest film, Resident Evil. A horror-comedy, based on the popular game series of the same name.

In her review of Fiona Obertinca’s “Dandelion” (2025), Assistant Managing Editor Sadie Cho explores how the short film represents finding community as a queer teenager in a historically accurate manner and meaningfully deviates from mainstream queer movies by depicting queer joy.

What does it really mean to adapt a novel, and how can one succeed or fail in doing so? These questions have long tormented authors, filmmakers, and audiences alike. Emerald Fennell’s 2026 “Wuthering Heights” takes a controversial approach to reimagining Emily Brontë’s 1847 novel, simultaneously illuminating the question while complicating it further.

In her mise-en-scène of Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow (2024), Sadie Cho analyzes how a variety of details in Owen’s monologue–his wording, the setting, the music, and the camera angles–exemplify his immaturity, despite the fact that he appears to have a normal adult life. This scene contributes to the film’s larger message that risk-taking is necessary to not just age, but truly mature as a person.

Through an analytical history of the life and times of both of its artistic fathers, Carlos examines the Marquis de Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom–a scroll stuffed into a wall in a Bastille cell that would two centuries later become the most infamous film ever made.

*The Social Reckoning* wants desperately to inherit the moral urgency and aesthetic electricity of *The Social Network*, but the magic is gone. Sorkin replaces complexity with didacticism, interiority with shorthand, and journalistic tension with contrived dynamics. The result is a hollow sequel to a story reality has already made stranger and uglier.

In this piece, Sam Dameron discusses O Brother, Where Art Thou? An adaptation of the Odyssey (which is better than Nolan’s film could ever dream to be) set in the American South. The article explores the theme of redemption and whether or not one can truly be redeemed.

This article is a reflection on Midnight in Paris, the 2011 film directed by Woody Allen. The film serves as a glance into our tendency towards escapism and nostalgia when faced with dissatisfaction in our personal lives. The article also describes my experience with film at a young age.

Double Exposure staff writers share their thoughts on Christopher Nolan's Odyssey

Kirsten Stewart’s biographical film The Chronology of Water (2025), based on Lidia Yuknavitch's work, captures Yuknavitch’s memory as she navigates trauma, sexuality, love, family, and writing. Memory is presented as ocean waves, colliding and roaring. Until Lidia can come to terms with the water of memory, she will be lost. Here, water takes on new and multiple meanings: life and death, breath and drowning, time and memory, filth and cleansing. The story is based on Lidi

In an age where horror films need to continuously compete to meet the growing standards of an actual “scary movie”, the film Primate takes the traditional template of a horror movie whilst adding its own unique spin, with a killer ape named Ben. Nicole Au picks apart the various aspects of this movie in this review, attempting to see how Primate stands on its own and in the bigger scheme of the horror genre.

La La Land is the film for the yearners, with Mia (Emma Stone) and Sebastian (Ryan Gosling) being the epitome for “right person wrong time.” La La Land is captivating in its lively dance scenes and nostalgic usage of technicolor. However, Nicole Au calls into question if this film effectively portrays a deep, painful, love story or if the stunning cinematography is just the shell of meaningless, forgettable plot.

The heartwarming success story of Chris Gardner as portrayed in Gabriele Muccino’s The Pursuit of Happyness (2006) carries an overtly ideological message, promulgating a comforting yet dangerous illusion—a perfect capitalist meritocracy.

This review of the documentary Martha: A Picture Story argues that the film transcends biography, using archival footage, interviews, and cinema verité to present photographer Martha Cooper’s work as an ethical act of “rehumanization.” The review also contends that director Selina Miles crafts a powerful manifesto on the politics of looking, challenging viewers to see dignity and art in marginalized spaces and to question ingrained cultural hierarchies.

In this review, Alicia Bai explores Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo as a study of psychological destabilization through visual form. Focusing on camera techniques, lighting, and colour, she demonstrates how Hitchcock immerses viewers in the protagonist’s obsessive descent into madness. While acknowledging structural weaknesses in the film’s conclusion, Bai ultimately positions Vertigo as a defining work of cinematic art.

A review of Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind, a minimalist, tragicomic twist on the heist genre, following Josh O’Connor as an apathetic family man whose amateur art theft slowly falls apart.

The ivory tower of cuisine comes alive in Brad Bird’s Ratatouille. Remy the rat, under the tutelage of the spirit of the late Chef Gusteau, attempts to find the key, but what will it take for the world to welcome its most unconventional chef?

This article attempts to analyze Wes Anderson’s work through the lens of James C. Scott’s 1998 book Seeing Like A State, using Asteroid City and The Phoenician Scheme to try to understand auteurship as a form of quasibureaucratic control, a form of control that these films, despite their pervasive stylization, subtly yet consistently undermine. Many have accused Anderson of retreating into pure mannerism, but these films can be read as dramatizations of resistance to their ow