110 minutes, 2026, dir. Kane Parsons

Premise: In 1990, the manager of a furniture store in San Jose discovers a network of seemingly uninhabited office space underneath his building.

Where to watch: in U.S. theaters now

Knowing there is much more to be thought and written about this film (as it metabolizes decades of cinema and the entire history of psychoanalysis), I will simply give my cursory impressions and join the chorus sounding the clarion call: go see it, as soon as possible, on the most capacious screen you can find. I don’t want the blog to ever be an advertisement, and I do not think it matters whether you see it with a young, chomping-at-the-bit crowd or not. But if you care about the visceral experience this movie has the potential to offer you, time is of the absolute essence.

This is, at its zenith, a conceptual challenge to the industrial apparatus which funds and exhibits contemporary visual art, a shockingly mimetic tribute to Panos Cosmatos (and the 1980s cinema he himself is synthesizing) which also reveals the psychological possibilities and attractions of such tributes, and, amazingly, a quasi-inverted remake of Amiri Baraka’s Dutchman which restages the deepest fears and thematics of the play (I promise you that I am not joking). But even beyond that, it is a frequently profound, sophisticated, furious, unselfconscious enactment of what we imagine it would be like to reunite with God after a lifetime of estrangement. So, with that, go, and we will talk later.