At first glance, the gothic and the noir genre may seem quite mutually distinguishable: the former, with its castles, ghosts, and curses, involves a fear of the past; the latter, set in modern urban landscapes, a fear of the future. Yet, a deep sense of fatalism and impending doom permeates both. They also often feature anguished and troubled protagonists who try to navigate through oneiric, manic worlds. Stylistically, both employ expressionistic elements, at times even to t

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.

Over the past decade, Hollywood’s largest studios have become trapped in a cycle of reboots, sequels, and prequels, driven by the mistaken belief that familiar intellectual property guarantees profit. Now, as Hollywood faces the creative consequences of a potential Warner Bros-Paramount Mega Merger, Elijah Segal analyzes what led to this creative stagnation and elucidates steps studios can take to bring Hollywood back to life.

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.

Matthew Colandrea recounts his experience navigating his first heartbreak with the help of movies. He narrates his journey from finding movie theatres as an escape, before turning to movies to help learn about love, all while falling in love with film again.

A way of looking at a Columbia student’s journey through college as told through Whit Stillman’s 1990s comedic trilogy Metropolitan, Barcelona, and The Last Days of Disco.

In a time of intense political tension and a seemingly unresolvable resentment felt across the political spectrum, Bugonia functions as a direct and scathing critique of modern political extremism. Quite simply, through its depictions of delusion and conspiracy, the film exposes the narcissicism, hypocrisy, ignorance, and animalistic aggression of the Greta Thunbergs of the world.

In Sam Witt’s piece she discusses Bill Rebane’s film Blood Harvest and argues that the film serves as a grim model for the horror genre's tendency to sexualize women.

Aiden Ahn discusses how his cultural identity as an ethnic Korean American filmmaker has challenged him to become successful, how he's developed the ability to feel like an “imposter,” and how he's had difficulty with being thought of as a model minority. With inspiration from the work of other filmmakers, including Philip Ahn, he has been able to find inspiration in his life as a member of an immigrant family.

Observational reality shows have become predominant in South Korea’s entertainment industry, demonstrating an extreme shift from a society that once held strict Confucian values of privacy. Due to lack of social interaction and communication, the Korean public is filling up their emotional hollowness with collective voyeurism. This phenomenon ultimately leads to the commercialization of privacy.

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.

Cici Xu explores the emotional and technical journey of directing her debut film, The Recipe. Moving beyond academic theory, she employs diverse techniques to translate her personal experiences with homesickness and cultural heritage into a tactile cinematic reality. Reflecting on the creative process, Xu bridges the gap between memory and the screen, ultimately discovering a deeper sense of belonging and the true purpose behind her filmmaking.

As we wrapped up 2025, Stranger Things released their fifth and final season. Upon the release of the long awaited final season, fans raided social media platforms, enraged by its lack of depth and abundance of plot holes. Why was the build up to season 5 so underwhelming? Why was the dialogue so lacking in depth? This essay addresses the many inconsistencies fans were forced to endure throughout their watch of the final season.

The Oscars, as both an institution and a form of critique, have demonstrated something increasingly difficult to ignore: the power of good campaigning often outweighs the power of good critique. As a result, the average moviegoer, film connoisseur, and those in between have consistently found themselves out of step with the Academy. This year feels no different. Despite Sinners being the top pick among students for Best Picture in a survey of Columbia film lovers I conduct

Why are so many audiences nowadays laughing at scenes that are meant to be uncomfortable? In this piece, Caleb Lee argues that the rise of inappropriate and performative laughter is a reflection of a more disturbing social trend that prevents us from dealing with sincerity in our everyday lives.

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.

Imagine this: you are walking down the street at 9 a.m., barely awake, caffeinated beverage in hand, merely trying to make it through another day when you make eye contact with a stranger. They’re cute. They raise their eyebrows slightly. Are they surprised? Okay be nice. You smile. They don’t smile back. Did you smile too wide? Are they disgusted by you? Wait! Someone else is looking at you weird. You think? Is there something on your face? Oh god. There are more peo

Not having a good time in this world? Try a new one! If you’re looking to stave off the next four weeks of seasonal depression, check out this list of recommendations for films that can improve your mood by a few percentage points through 1) soundtracks that will make you nostalgic for a time you never experienced 2) casts of loveable societal outcasts, and 3) narrative arcs that tie everything into a nice little bow.

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?