Howdy folks, here's a bigger newsletter just in time for Easter!
After a whirlwind of a week at Night Visions Back to Basics 2026, I emerge with eight films that once again showcased the wild and inventive side of the coolest genre event in the country.
I also have interviews with the guest incoming soon, with the first one, a wonderful talk with Caroline Munro, already up on the site. You can check that out in the link below.

For now, here are eight films you should keep on your radar.
$Positions

"Intense and often a little too mean for its own good, $Positions is still a hell of a ride that's worth taking."
If $Positions were an after-school special, it could be called, "You're a dumbass, Charlie Brown."
I say that with equal parts affection and disdain, as $Positions is an incredibly difficult film to like, but intentionally so. It succeeds in every task it sets out to do, even if the results are often hard to watch.
$Positions is set in the Midwest, though it plays out like a Florida fever dream. Mike (a dedicated Michael Kunicki) is a good-for-nothing layabout who steals from his family and wastes his money on short-sighted hustles. His latest obsession is crypto, one of the biggest pyramid schemes in recent memory. The results are a nightmare that gets worse with each passing minute.
It's a tremendous piece of filmmaking, helped along by fantastic performances from Kunicki and a heartbreaking turn from Trevor Dawkins, who plays Mike's cousin, Travis. Dawkins has a monologue towards the end of the film that is as haunting as it is unexpected, and it's one of those little treasures I cherish in films like this.
Check out the full review here:

Alpha

"They have their moments, but the Tron franchise is very much an acquired taste for the cult following only."
Julie Ducournau's Alpha is a fable about AIDS, drug abuse, trauma, and the body horror of growing up. It encapsulates the fear that one day all of this will be gone. It hit close to home more than once. I suspect it will do the same for millions.
In the film, the world weeps blood. People turn to marble from an unknown sickness no one dares to call by its name. Hospitals are empty of staff as doctors are too afraid to treat their patients. Those afflicted or with loved ones withering away before their eyes grieve in isolation. The world has turned away in terror.
Ducournau has matured as an artist. She's even more assertive than before. More trusting of her audience and more daring to go into the lyrical and fantastical than before. In a bravura sequence, Alpha and her uncle escape into a night of pained release to the tune of Nick Cave's The Mercy Seat. The camera swirls around them in a cramped nightclub, and Alpha gazes up at the slow, defiantly macabre dance of a dying patron. It is painful, haunting, beautiful, and soul-crushing all at once.
Read the full review from the link below.

Dog 51

"Dog 51 has a terrifically grounded vision of the future that never quite springs to life in an otherwise dour procedural that's bogged down with clichés."
My favorite thing about Dog 51, the Parisian future-thriller from Cédric Jimenez, is how anti-futuristic it feels. The setting is the year 2045, some twenty years into the future, yet it could be tomorrow for all we know. Apart from some showy technology that still simmers with recognizability, there's little in Jimenez's vision that believes anything will get better in the decades to come.
It's a breath of fresh air in a genre that often leans heavily on tropes of flying cars and hologram UI's that have been "just around the corner" since the 80s. With the way the world is going, it's far more likely we'll have the same crap with worse style, as the enshittification continues to expand.
Apart from that, and one delightfully bizarre part where our heroes take a breather to sing karaoke, Dog 51 is a frustratingly disappointing film that refuses to do anything interesting with the wealth of material at hand. Instead, it goes for an obvious mix of Blade Runner and I, Robot, where the procedural elements feel hackneyed and dated instead of the timelessness it aims for.
Jimenez hits some of the similar notes, yet pulls back just as things start to get interesting. The result is a frustrating mix of disparate styles and tones that never connect in a meaningful way. There's a lot to admire in Dog 51, but not as much to like.
Read the full review here:

Fucktoys

"Acerbic, funny, insightful, sexy, gross, and deeply empathetic, Fucktoys is as messy as its characters, and all the better for it."
Fucktoys is a mesmerizing debut from Annapurna Sriram. It's part John Waters, part Greg Arraki, and with a little helping of Kenneth Anger, yet told in a voice that is entirely hers.
Beautifully shot in 16 mm film by Cory Fraiman-Lott and delicately performed by Sriram and Sadie Scott in the leads, Fucktoys is the kind of wonderfully unique mix of genres and influences that crackles with energy. I can't say I "got" everything, but there's also a lot here that's not meant for me to get. Sriram's vision is unapologetic and razor-focused on an audience rarely catered to in film, especially when it comes to sexuality.
I love how candid it is. I love that it doesn't apologize or explain itself, and that, even at its most delirious, it feels honest on an emotional level. Yes, it teases and deliberately pushes buttons to elicit a reaction, but that's part of the fun. To do so effectively is a skill of its own, and Sriram handles even the most complex mix of titillation and comedy like a seasoned veteran.
Read the full review here:

Grind

"A fantastic heir to Tales from the Crypt, Grind is a modern-day campfire story for everyone who has suffered through gig work in their life."
Grind isn't a subtle film, and it shouldn't be. Nothing about the present is normal, and there's a level of absurdity we have to cross just to hit the insanity we face in our everyday lives. For the most part, Grind rises to that expectation beautifully. At its best, it is as incisive and acerbic as you'd hope. By ramping things up to eleven, it highlights inherent truths about the malicious system built around us.
As a result, Grind is often disturbing, occasionally gross, and always funny.
Directed by Grant, Stardust, and Ed Dougherty, Grind keeps up the momentum surprisingly well. The stories flow naturally into a unified whole, and the film never stutters in transition from one to the next. It avoids the perils of other anthology films thanks to a strong hook, which pays off wonderfully by the end.
Like its inspirations, especially Tales from the Crypt, Grind is a fresh take on classic storytelling. It's just on the right side of creepy and funny that neither overpowers the other. You could easily imagine it as the heightened logical step of friends venting after work about their nightmarish shifts. Like all great satire, it roots itself in relatability, which makes even the most ludicrous moments work.
Check out the full review here:

The Kraken

"They have their moments, but the Tron franchise is very much an acquired taste for the cult following only."
Deftly directed by Pål Øie, Kraken is a deliberately-paced genre chiller that's part monster movie and part eco-thriller with a sprinkling of romance melodrama thrown in. It takes its time in setting up for the big finale, but those willing to engage with Øie's specific vision are rewarded with spectacle unlike anything we're used to in the Nordics.
In one bravura sequence, the titular kraken finally appears in full, and Øie fills the screen with equal parts wonder and terror. There's a big, fit-for-IMAX shot here that is so hauntingly beautiful it stands alongside any major Hollywood production, and it works because Øie has taken the long road to get there first.
Kraken is a different kind of monster movie. It doesn't work if you don't engage with it. You can't treat it as second-screen content. If you immerse yourself in the seemingly mundane routines and down-to-earth storytelling that slowly unravel in the face of nature, Kraken reveals itself as a slow-burning marvel, one that feels like old folk tales come to life.
Read the full review here:

Obex

"They have their moments, but the Tron franchise is very much an acquired taste for the cult following only."
Obex is the kind of singularly odd film you can only get at a specific budget. It is both immensely familiar and oddly touching, but also bizarre enough that a part of it holds the viewer at arm's length. Still, despite these contradictory elements, it has so much heart that, by the end, it's hard not to be charmed by such an inherently sweet story.
At the same time, Obex isn't a preachy Sunday-school special. It doesn't present Conor's obsession with collecting as a hard negative. There's no preaching about the evils of gaming or imagination. Instead, it's a surprisingly thoughtful and empathetic meditation on the ways we cope with trauma, isolation, and loss. It frames our failures as opportunities to grow as people, and our fears as the legendary monsters we've built in our minds that can only be slain with the help of others.
Like other great coming-of-age stories, Obex is as scary as it is comforting. It treats its audience with great care, even when it refuses easy answers.
Read the full review here:

They Will Kill You

"They Will Kill You is light on plot or logic, but delivers one thousand percent on the gory, over-the-top mayhem that its name promises."
They Will Kill You is light on plot or logic, but delivers one thousand percent on the gory, over-the-top mayhem that its name promises. It's a messy and ambitious blend of grindhouse, anime, social satire, and old-school Peter Jackson influences that impresses on sheer hubris alone.
Zazie Beetz is divine as the titular hero, Asia, who arrives at an exclusive co-op building for the ultra-wealthy for her new job as a maid. The whole place feels off from the word go, and writer/director Kirill Kosolov spends less than 15 minutes of his viciously lean film in setup. Asia arrives at her new job, meets some deliciously hammy archetypes, settles in, and they try to kill her. At which point she kills them right back.
Yes, there are other twists and turns, some delightful and others rote. At times, They Will Kill You grinds to a halt to satisfy its episodic structure that harkens back to said anime influences. You can almost see the points where mid-season credits would go.
Yet none of this dampens the excitement even one bit. Kosolov is a stupendously visual filmmaker who understands how action speaks louder than words, and he delivers on the promise of riotous mayhem from the start. The first big fight sequence, where Asia takes on a roomful of thugs in nothing but her jammies, is a jolt of lightning to the system. It establishes the visual and structural rules of everything we're about to see and cements Beetz as a star of genre cinema that burns with the power of a thousand suns.
Check out the full review here:









