Looking for something new to click, rent, or politely ghost this weekend? We’ve shuffled eleven fresh titles—from spy games in Savile Row suits to gothic fairy‑tale gore—to keep your queue unpredictable. Whether you crave riot‑grrrl war stories, union‑organising docu‑thrills, or a bubbling pot of tomato sauce, there’s at least one film here you’ll swear was algorithmically designed for you (promise it wasn’t). Scroll, sample the posters and trailers linked throughout, and then choose your pick—or skip—accordingly. Remote at the ready? Let’s dive in.
Black Bag
Steven Soderbergh trades car chases for razor‑sharp banter in Black Bag, a cool‑toned spy marital drama that finds Cate Blanchett and Michael Fassbender playing MI6 lifers who discover there’s no such thing as work‑life balance when your day job is lying for a living. David Koepp’s script crackles with champagne‑dry wit as dinners, debriefs, and whispered safe‑words double as battlefields; every glance is potential treason. This is espionage shot like a designer divorce settlement: brutal, elegant, and weirdly intimate. Soderbergh’s trademark snap keeps exposition breezy while the plot twists into a Möbius strip of betrayals. Add in Rege‑Jean Page as a grinning internal‑affairs bulldog and Naomie Harris as the agency shrink nobody trusts, and you have a talky thriller that’s simultaneously tense, funny, and romantic. Need a taste before committing? Scope the sleek poster and the pulse‑spiking trailer. Where to stream: Peacock.
Santosh
Sandhya Suri’s quietly fierce crime drama Santosh flips the well‑worn cop‑movie badge on its head: widow Santosh Saini inherits her late husband’s post in a dusty North‑Indian backwater and learns that moral compromise comes standard‑issue with the uniform. Shahana Goswami’s slow‑burn performance charts a rookie’s evolution from shell‑shocked quota hire to uneasy participant in a rotten system. Suri shoots blazing midday sun and flickering police‑station fluorescents like two sides of the same furnace, underscoring every small indignity. When a young woman’s body turns up, the case forces Santosh to decide whether justice or survival ranks higher on the daily roster. It’s procedural, political, and personal, all in ninety taut minutes. Preview the film’s understated poster and this arresting trailer before clocking in. Goswami’s simmering vulnerability paired with Suri’s unflinching gaze turns every dusty crossroads into a moral minefield that lingers. Where to stream: VOD.
The Ugly Stepsister
Norwegian filmmaker Emilie Blichfeldt drags the Cinderella myth down a dark, blood‑spattered runway in The Ugly Stepsister, a body‑horror spin that asks what you’d sacrifice for a shot at happily ever after. Lea Myren’s Elvira is our perennially sidelined heroine, trapped under the flawless shadow of stepsister Agnes and a kingdom obsessed with symmetrical faces. When the prince announces a beauty contest disguised as a ball, Elvira’s transformation quest spirals into a Cronenberg‑adjacent maelstrom of mirrors, scalpels, and self‑loathing. Blichfeldt matches the gore with empathy, finding tragedy in every shard of glass slipper. If Disney’s remakes feel beige, this is pitch‑black Fenty—stylish, confronting, and weirdly cathartic. Sample the striking poster and the nightmare‑chic trailer to see if your stomach’s ready. Fair warning: heels shatter, bones crunch, and fairy‑tale justice arrives soaked in crimson, not pumpkin spice. Where to stream: Shudder, VOD.
Bob Trevino Likes It
Tracie Laymon’s feel‑good charmer Bob Trevino Likes It turns a stray Facebook notification into a full‑blown lifeline. Barbie Ferreira plays Lily, fresh off a brutal parental snub and scrolling for validation when she accidentally befriends Bob Trevino (John Leguizamo), a Texas dad with a knack for dad‑jokes and boundless empathy. What begins as glitchy small talk grows into a found‑family dramedy that believes online friendships can be as messy—and meaningful—as IRL. Ferreira modulates humour and heartbreak beautifully, while Leguizamo serves laid‑back wisdom you’ll want to screenshot. Yes, you can guess the narrative beats, but the film’s warmth feels earned, never algorithmic. Feast your eyes on the sunny poster and this meet‑cute trailer before hitting play. Laymon, directing from her own autobiographical brush with isolation, keeps the pacing breezy and the sentiment unfiltered, like a late‑night DM that actually helps. Where to stream: VOD.
One to One: John & Yoko
Kevin Macdonald and Sam Rice‑Edwards crank the IMAX amps to 11 in One to One: John & Yoko, resurrecting Lennon and Ono’s 1972 Madison Square Garden benefit with restored footage so crisp you can practically smell the patchouli. The doc weaves concert highs with Greenwich Village lows, charting the couple’s political battles, creative synergy, and occasional tabloid‑induced migraines. Sean Ono Lennon oversees the remaster and dials every drum hit to stadium‑quake levels, reminding us Lennon’s final live show deserved better than bootleg VHS. Archival interviews, new animation flourishes, and Ono’s delightfully blunt commentary keep the narrative rolling between hits. Get in the mood with the vintage‑style poster and this remastered trailer. Whether you’re a completist Beatle‑bibliophile or just into vintage denim and protest placards, the film makes an airtight case for spontaneous, chaotic artistry as radical self‑care. Where to stream: VOD.
Warfare
Co‑directors Ray Mendoza and Alex Garland fuse boots‑on‑the‑ground authenticity with hallucinatory style in Warfare, a Gulf‑War fever dream where metal riffs and shrapnel shards share the same sound mix. Mendoza, a former Navy SEAL, mines personal memories of Ramadi to craft action that feels uncomfortably tactile, while Garland layers in pop‑culture detritus—yes, the Eric Prydz aerobics video—to show how war and nostalgia feed each other. Will Poulter and Joseph Quinn play squad‑mates bonded by gallows humour and MTV references, charting a descent from swagger to shell‑shock. The result is equal parts kinetic spectacle and anti‑war gut punch. Prime yourself with A24’s slick character posters and the adrenalised trailer before enlisting. Trust your earplugs. Where to stream: VOD.
The Ballad of Wallis Island
If you’ve ever tried to resurrect a long‑dead garage band with only nostalgia and dodgy Wi‑Fi, The Ballad of Wallis Island will feel painfully familiar. Tim Key and Tom Basden star as estranged folk‑rockers coaxed out of hiding by a superfan who thinks a reunion gig could heal their midlife malaise. Director James Griffiths shot the film in 18 whirlwind days, matching its scrappy energy with windswept island vistas and a soundtrack that’s equal parts sea shanty and breakup mixtape. Key and Basden’s chemistry turns every lyrical misfire into comedic gold, while Sian Clifford steals scenes with eyerolls that belong in a sarcasm hall of fame. Peep the wistful poster and the toe‑tapping trailer for a taste of the bittersweet vibes. Bring tissues—or at least a tambourine—for the final chorus that lands harder than any power chord. Where to stream: VOD.
Union
Brett Story and Stephen Maing’s documentary Union captures the Amazon Labor Union’s underdog battle with the kinetic intensity of a heist movie and the humanity of a kitchen‑table chat. Chris Smalls grills burgers between cable‑news hits, organisers pass around leaflets like contraband, and corporate anti‑union videos accidentally become comedy relief. Shot cinéma‑vérité style inside break rooms and Staten Island parking lots, the film exposes the grind of organising as equal parts inspiration and exhaustion. Every small victory sparks another crisis, but the camaraderie is infectious. Preview the galvanising poster and the down‑to‑earth trailer to see whether you’re ready to punch in for solidarity. Story and Maing refuse tidy endings; they understand labour fights don’t fade to black, they loop like shift calendars, and that persistence, not viral soundbites, turns break‑room whispers into genuine bargaining power. Bring your union card. Where to stream: VOD.
Marcella
Food doc Marcella proves you can practically smell simmering tomatoes through a screen. Director Peter Miller profiles legendary cookbook author Marcella Hazan, whose plain‑spoken rules—no garlic with onion, always taste as you go—revolutionised American kitchens. Miller weaves archive footage, spatula‑cam recipe demos, and interviews with awestruck chefs who still call Hazan ‘Maestro.’ Unlike slick Netflix food‑porn, this film feels like Nonna’s notebook: slightly rumpled, splashed with sauce, bursting with flavour. Between biographical beats, we linger on bubbling ragù that stretches your patience and waistband. Check the warm, retro poster and the hunger‑inducing trailer before pre‑heating your dutch oven. BYO crusty bread for immersive carb therapy. Where to stream: VOD.
Henry Johnson
David Mamet adapts his own recent stage play in Henry Johnson, trapping Evan Jonigkeit’s mild‑mannered office drone inside a three‑act moral cage match. Across four near‑real‑time scenes, Henry is pitted against a bullying boss, a philosophising cellmate (Shia LaBeouf in full menace mode), and a guard whose outward calm masks ticking fury. Mamet shoots dialogue like gunfire—short, staccato lines that ricochet around the sparse sets—while minimal camera moves keep you squirming under fluorescent lights. It’s talky, prickly, occasionally politically loaded, and never less than riveting. Scope the stark poster and the terse trailer if you need proof that confrontation can be entertainment. Mind the elbows. Whether you see a free‑speech screed or a cagey character study will depend on your tolerance for Mametian brinkmanship; either way, the silences hit harder than the insults. Where to stream: Official Site.
The Empire
Bruno Dumont’s The Empire crash‑lands an operatic space war onto a sleepy Normandy fishing village, swapping laser fire for existential shrugging. Two rival alien factions, each with palatial motherships that look like Versailles got grafted onto Notre‑Dame, dispatch human avatars to kidnap a messianic toddler whose gurgles may decide the universe’s fate. Dumont jams absurdist slapstick (lightsaber beheadings followed by polite tea service) against philosophical dread, creating a tone that feels like Monty Python riffing on Denis Villeneuve. Bernard Pruvost returns as the perpetually baffled commandant, delivering line readings so deadpan they deserve subtitles of their own. Wrap your eyes around the surreal poster and the cosmic trailer to confirm you’re ready for star‑crossed silliness. If your taste runs toward philosophical pratfalls and barnyard prophecies, consider this intergalactic goose chase your nouvelle‑vague gateway to the far reaches of nonsense. Where to stream: VOD.
