Don Shanahan
In reaching the halfway point of the year, it’s time to look back at the brightest and best that cinema had to offer. The first six months of 2026 brought a boon of fantastic features across several genres, from captivating horror to dynamic science fiction and searing dramas. The writers and editors at Film Obsessive have been front-and-center in our review coverage to document the quality and excitement. Presented in alphabetical order, here are our fine staff’s picks for the Best of 2026 so far. Enjoy!
Backrooms
Backrooms is, arguably, the breakout feature of 2026 thus far. The directorial debut of Kane Parsons—who, at the age of 20, became the youngest filmmaker ever to have a film debut at number one at both the domestic and global box offices—the psychological horror is based on Parsons’ viral YouTube series of the same name. This A24 feature follows Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who discovers a strange doorway in the basement of his furniture showroom and must be followed into the unknown by his therapist, Mary (Renate Reinsve).
Macabre in all the right places, it’s no wonder that Backrooms broke the record for highest-grossing A24 feature of all time, overtaking the likes of Marty Supreme. Brimming with eerie sights, led by incredible performances from Ejiofor and Oscar-nominated Reinsve, and featuring a thrilling chase scene that will leave every audience member at the edge of their seat, Backrooms is a modern horror film like no other that has not only reinvigorated the genre with originality and youth but also may very well be the genre’s champion at next year’s Oscars ceremony. — Natalie D.C.
Blue Heron
Blue Heron is a quiet yet powerful ode to time and memory. The directorial debut of Canadian filmmaker Sophy Romvari, this semi-autobiographical coming-of-age drama follows eight-year-old Sasha (Eylul Guven) during one summer in the late 1990s at her new home on Vancouver Island who witnesses the increasingly destructive behavior of her older half-brother Jeremy (Edik Beddoes) that forever haunts her Hungarian-Canadian family.
Despite the whiplash caused by its second-act timeskip, Blue Heron is a confident character study of a girl-turned-woman who must deal with the decades-long ramifications of mental health struggles and a broken system, all while grappling with the fickleness of her own recollection. With a fractured documentary-like structure, impactful fourth wall breaks, and strong performances from Guven, Beddoes, and Amy Zimmer (who plays an emotionally spent adult Sasha searching for answers in the second half of the film), this is an indie gem that should not be overlooked. — Natalie D.C.
Carolina Caroline
Watching Adam Carter Rehmeier’s Carolina Caroline calls to mind the many layers of appeal possible in the crime-romance subgenre of movies. On one level, there’s the taboo draw of watching the ethical battles of right and wrong. Folks might wish they could break laws, too, or, if not, marvel at the audacity on display. From a heart-quickening standpoint, the craft of shooting and telling a solid crime thriller lends itself to escapist danger, which plays well on the big or small screen.
Look deeper than mere choices and actions to see that the true energy that heats a romantic crime film like Carolina Caroline, starring the mesmerizing pair of Samara Weaving and Kyle Gallner, is, simply and powerfully, passion. For audiences to get swept up enough to ignore the wrongs and root for the “bad guys,” they must be granted and see a level of intensity within the individuals committing the crimes. When that zealousness is amorous, it amplifies everything else. The motives get bolder, and the course of dangers turns more perilous.
The beneficiary of all that escalation is us, the cinematic voyeurs, dazzled, intoxicated, and enthralled by the entire pungent palette. So many of those aforementioned passionate traits radiate in Carolina Caroline like a muscle car’s headlight in front of a roaring engine speeding down a road. While we’ve seen these types of stories since the grand era of film noir eighty-plus years ago, and endlessly since, as the archetypes advance with the times, the appeal has never waned. — Don Shanahan
Dead Man’s Wire
No matter how you look at Gus Van Sant’s Dead Man’s Wire, a breezy crime drama with plenty of humor and a killer funk-and-soul soundtrack, you feel compelled to watch. Bill Skarsgård is terrific as twitchy, inflatable tube-man psycho Tony Kiritsis, but Al Pacino’s mustache-twirling big bad and Dacre Montgomery’s understated turn as the hapless broker caught at gunpoint are just as compelling. We’re led to believe Kiritsis has a legitimate grievance, and much of the film’s satire comes from the casual cruelty of Richard’s father. But Dead Man’s Wire has a cynical streak. Tony is a police-loving vigilante whom all the cops want to kill, someone who insists on honor while threatening murder on live television. Even as his own hostage tries to find common ground, the egregious demand for a personal apology and five million dollars makes it difficult. Plus, you know, the shotgun. Austin Kolodney’s sharp screenplay finds a lot of grey in the chilly Indianapolis setting. The closing montage of real-life network coverage, set to Gil Scott-Heron’s “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” lands with an ironic twist: Tony’s legend lives on, but the system that created him is still stubbornly intact. — Christopher Rhoten
Disclosure Day
Following the deeply personal The Fabelmans, director Steven Spielberg returned to his blockbuster summer roots with Disclosure Day, a heart-racing, beautiful sci-fi thriller about empathy, the truth, and the spectacle of aliens. Working from a script by David Koepp and a story by Spielberg, Disclosure Day finds Josh O’Connor and Emily Blunt, in one of the best performances of her career, as a pair of strangers who are intergalactically connected and must come together and expose a government secret before a covert organization finds them.
Steven Spielberg crafted a film that feels timely for today’s world, yet has the retro Spielberg feel and optimism we saw from him back in the 70s. It’s a non-stop chase movie, filled with mystery, exciting set pieces, and expert filmmaking by Spielberg. Its messaging is timely and earnest, preaching the importance of empathy and unity. The film features a jaw-dropping third act that is audacious and emotionally moving. Disclosure Day is blockbuster filmmaking at its finest from one of the best to ever do it. — Kevin Wozniak
The Drama
Did you know that one of the best movies of the first half of 2026 starred Robert Pattinson and Zendaya? Long before they dominate the multiplexes this summer, fall, and winter in Spider-Man: Brand New Day, The Odyssey, and Dune: Part III, two of Hollywood’s biggest stars acted in a dark dramedy from Kristoffer Borgli titled The Drama. The film follows two lovers the week of their wedding, when a secret gets revealed that changes how they see each other forever. Borgli uses non-linear storytelling to show how their relationship moves from a meet-cute at a coffee shop all the way to a turbulent wedding week of laughs, tears, and passionate violence. The two leads are asked to carry a lot of dramatic conflict as well as some darkly humorous moments and scenarios. Alana Haim and Hailey Gates add strong supporting performances to the acting ensemble along with whiplash editing form to keep audiences guessing from scene to scene. The Drama is an examination of American gun culture as well as modern relationship obstacles to overcome the darkest of revelations of human behavior. If you want to sit down and watch a darkly sinister dramedy in the vein of Ari Aster or the Coen Brothers, then The Drama is the 2026 film for you. — Seth Lamey
Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die
Gore Verbinski’s latest film is a manifesto of the current age. It makes the comment that artificial intelligence is ultimately unbeatable, but rather than continue to fight an unwinnable war or concede and join with safety protocols put in place, Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die suggests we immunize ourselves to its use. Though it’s becoming more and more difficult to stay away from A.I. in an online world, Verbinski says our best option is to try to develop an allergy to technology.
Sam Rockwell leads an excellent ensemble of familiar faces, particularly Haley Lu Richardson, whom I always love to see. Add to the script and cast Verbinski’s pitch-perfect direction, and I’m in a cinema heaven. This is a film that uses a time travel trope as its jumping-off point for a series of wacky (and metaphorical) adventures that climax with an A.I.-generated kaiju made up of kittens terrorizing our heroes and flying cables trying to prevent the upload of safety protocols that will prevent A.I. from being malevolent. Overall, Verbinski recognizes that the world is a mess, but he’s made a film that is, despite its premise, incredibly hopeful. — Michael Suarez
Hekla
With the fear of AI always on the horizon in so many artistic mediums, it’s pleasant and stimulating to see a film like Hekla shed all those trappings and temptations in an effort to show the human side of being a working actress. Emerging actress Elizabeth Stam plays the title character, making her way through a busy Chicago day of four auditions, a headshot photography appointment, a difficult lunch date with her long-time romantic partner, and a liberating Shakespearean bar show to cap the schedule. Shot in a symbolic split between regular life in black-and-white and performance moments in color, the quizzical camera never leaves Stam and her roller coaster between appeasing the demands of each possible job opportunity and staying fiercely true to herself.
What stands above all of that Windy City hustle-and-bustle is an authenticity to the plight of a starving artist shifting her livelihood to the goals she seeks. You’ve probably never seen or heard of filmmaker Michael Glover Smith and his Hekla co-writer and star Elizabeth Stam, but you need to. In every facet of this role, Stam beams with personality that jumps off the page and the screen. Now presenting his fifth feature-length film (with a recent Los Angeles premiere at the Dances With Films Festival), the Chicago-based Smith (Relative, Rendezvous in Chicago) continues to grow as an insightful, casual, and approachable storyteller. This is DIY independent filmmaking at its strongest and finest! — Don Shanahan
I Love Boosters
Boots Riley’s I Love Boosters is as original and audacious as movies have gotten in 2026. This cinematic shot of energy and creativity follows a group of thieves as they exact their revenge on an arrogant fashion designer by robbing all her retail stores. Riley creates a wholly unique and chaotic world of bright colors, heightened settings, and big personality by mixing real actors and real locations with green screens, moving backdrops, miniatures, and stop-motion animation to make his anti-capitalist sci-fi-crime-comedy come to life in a big, bold way.
At the heart of I Love Boosters is one of the year’s best ensembles. The endlessly charming Keke Palmer stars as the leader of the boosters and is joined by Naomi Ackie, Taylour Paige, Poppy Liu, and Eiza Gonzalez. This is a fun, wisecracking team with perfect chemistry that personifies female friendship. Demi Moore is an absolute ball as the high-powered fashion designer whose stores are constantly being robbed, and we get brief but memorable performances by Will Poulter and LaKeith Stanfield. I Love Boosters is a visionary piece of filmmaking from Riley. — Kevin Wozniak
The Invite
Olivia Wilde’s The Invite has a relatively basic premise: Joe (Seth Rogen) and Angela (Wilde, pulling double duty) have invited their new neighbors Hawk (Edward Norton) and Pina (Penelope Cruz) over for the evening. But what transpires throughout the evening is anything but basic. Adapted from the 2024 Czech film Sentimental, The Invite is a crackling, tension-fueled, uproarious film. A quartet of sensational performances from Rogen, Wilde, Cruz, and Norton brings the film to life. The script by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack is one of the best of the year.
The dialogue flows at a rapid pace, filled with constant jokes, surprises, and thought-provoking themes about love, communication, happiness, and modern relationships. The conversations are snappy and unpredictable, keeping us in suspense and allowing the humor to come naturally while simultaneously being uncomfortable and honest. Wilde’s direction is superb, capturing a claustrophobic feel while making the film feel cinematic despite being set in one location. The Invite is not only the best comedy of 2026, but it is one of the best comedies of the decade. — Kevin Wozniak
Josephine
With 2022’s Soft and Quiet, Beth de Araújo established herself as an unflinching director, ready and willing to stare into utterly abyssal aspects of human nature. With her sophomore feature, Josephine, her gaze into the abyss serves something profoundly humanistic. Inspired by a horrific act of violence de Araújo witnessed as a child, Josephine charts out the story of its titular eight-year-old character (Mason Reeves) and the psychological trauma she suffers after she inadvertently witnesses a terrifying act of sexual assault. It’s an impossible film to casually recommend: a furiously scathing, unbearably intense film about rape culture, loss of innocence, and the burden laid on parents after their child is exposed to violence they’re barely equipped to describe or understand.
Josephine is a piece of harrowing psychological interrogation; a disturbing, formally subjective look into how a child’s comprehension of a masculine-dominated world is forever altered into something grotesque and violent. It’s also effectively a horror film for parents, toeing the line between shielding one’s children from being exposed further to a horrifying reality and providing them the means to guard themselves against it. Charged with quietly indignant rage from top to bottom—with phenomenal performances from Reeves, Gemma Chan, and Channing Tatum—Josephine is a distinctly harrowing portrait of familial helplessness and the upward battle towards post-traumatic resilience at an age that should never have to experience it. — James Y. Lee
Leviticus
At the end of this past March, the Supreme Court struck down a law that banned licensed therapists from providing conversion therapy—the abusive practice of altering the sexual orientations and gender identities of queer people—to minors. If horror as a genre has uniquely been equipped to reframe the terror of our times, Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus has a deeply grim way into the consciousness of modern audiences following its premiere at Sundance this past January, by using an It Follows-esque concept to reflect the fear that conversion therapy instills in queer youth.
Naim (Talk to Me’s Joe Bird) and Ryan (Stacy Clausen) are two gay teenagers living in a religiously conservative town, where the discovery of their queerness causes a curse to be laid upon them that sets a malevolently murderous entity hunting them down. The entity is one of the more distinct “metaphors about trauma” in modern horror—taking the form of the person that its prey most desires, and bound by a ruleset that allows it to materialize when either Naim or Ryan are isolated. With resourceful deployments of its concept, Leviticus is an economical and satisfying horror experience on a level most horror movies as of late haven’t reached. It’s also a real achievement for Chiarella’s feature debut, conveying the fear and repression of such a violent homophobic practice while still earnestly believing in the resilience of queer love. — James Y. Lee
Mile End Kicks
It has really been Chandler Levack’s year. She directed Netflix’s comedy hit Roommates, and her Montreal-based coming-of-age film Mile End Kicks, starring Barbie Ferreira, was also released. After absolutely loving her 2022 feature, I Like Movies, I was excited to see what she would do next. Set in 2011, Mile End Kicks is loosely based on events from Levack’s young adult years living in Montreal as an aspiring music journalist and writer. It’s a heartfelt ode to the city and the vibrant 2000s music scene that blossomed there. Ferreira perfectly portrays Levack at this defining stage of her life of self-discovery, while also experiencing falling in and out of love. Levack hits many emotional beats, and the group of talented actors complements each other’s naturalistic performances. — Lilli Keeve
The Moment
Who owns a piece of art? The obvious answer should probably be the artist, but in 2026, we know that isn’t exactly the case. Audiences and labels have taken more ownership over popular media than ever before. Artists have been reduced to puppets of movements that have been taken from them. We saw this play out in 2024 when Charli XCX’s album Brat took over pop culture.
Brat summer started an authentic movement, fueled by a youthful sense of rebelliousness against the industry and the corporations that fuel it. Less than a year later, the term was used everywhere from commercials to political campaigns. The Moment was Charli grappling with this. She made it to the height of pop music. She just didn’t know that it could cost her artistic integrity.
I appreciate The Moment as a quiet rebellion against the industry. Charli is in a position to make a generic concert film, like the parody trailer we see at the end. Instead, she takes the self-referential route, not afraid to skewer herself in the process of regaining ownership of Brat. Any fan of pop culture will likely enjoy The Moment, even if they’ve never heard a Charli XCX song. — Matthew Percefull
My Father’s Shadow
When we’re young, our parents seem all-knowing. There’s an illusion of ultimate safety when you’re in their presence, as if nothing bad could ever happen when they are around. Eventually, we’re hit with the stark reality that our parents are human, which means they are inherently flawed. This can be an earth-shattering revelation for some, while for others, it can actually grow the relationship. Akinola Davies Jr’s feature debut, My Father’s Shadow, is a beautiful representation of both.
My Father’s Shadow is a coming-of-age tale that takes place during the 1993 Nigerian election, a controversial and monumental event in the nation’s history, which lends the film a palpable tension. In this film, Folarin (Sope Dirisu) and his two young sons are thrust into the middle of this as he encounters remnants of his past. The film cleverly leaves this backstory vague, as a child’s understanding would be. Folairn may be the engine of this film; his sons are the windows through which we view the story. Their innocence (and the death of it) sits subtly in the background during the chaotic scenes, but is always there to sneak up on you for an emotional punch. — Matthew Percefull
Night Nurse
In the wake of a growing discursive inability to identify the chief traits of erotic cinema, Georgia Bernstein’s feature debut, Night Nurse, is a profoundly refreshing change of pace. It’s a film that carries clear inspirations from the likes of Atom Egoyan, Catherine Breillat, and Robert Altman—all in service of a story about the bizarre perversions of power behind caretaking. Eleni (Cemre Paksoy) is a recent hire in an affluent suburb’s nursing community, tasked with looking after Douglas, an ambiguously ailing resident with bizarre flirtations—and, as it turns out, a scam-calling scheme involving the other nurses that extorts other elderly residents of their money.
As Eleni gets roped into Douglas’s scheme, a lustful attraction immediately emerges between them. Eventually, it evolves into a full-fledged obsession, as Eleni does everything in her power to ensure that Douglas is getting the care he wants, on his terms. Filmed in the repressed silences of Illinois suburbia, Night Nurse wields a strange, consistent, and enchanting worldview that it gradually sees to its logical extremes. Bernstein has made a film with a distinctly absolutist definition of caretaking, introducing it with a wry sense of humor before escalating silently with increasingly taboo perversities. Driven by Paksoy’s profoundly embodied performance and accompanied by a delightfully sinister Bruce McKenzie, Night Nurse is sure to remain one of the most confident directorial debuts of recent memory. — James Y. Lee
Obsession
Much has been said about Curry Barker’s surprise hit, Obsession. The film has been praised, criticized, and just about everything in between since its May release. There have been fan theories, talk of an anthology series, and long-needed discussions about crew compensation. Before we let the chaos of internet discourse consume Obsession forever, we should take the time to understand why it caught fire in the first place.
Obsession isn’t “scary” in the traditional sense. The film scarcely uses jump scares or gore. The film instead hits at a generational fear of loneliness that’s more visceral than a simple jump or spurt of blood could ever accomplish. Barker’s sketch-comedy background adds another layer to this horror. The jokes don’t relieve the horror; they add to it. The casual evil of the man on the phone, the absurdity of some of ‘wish Nikki’s’ actions, and the nonchalance of the clerks he buys the magical one-wish willow from are all objectively funny moments that feel eerie within the bleak world of the film. The universe of this film doesn’t just torture its characters; it winks at the audience while doing so. — Matthew Percefull
Our Hero, Balthazar
Following its buzzy premiere at last year’s Tribeca Film Festival, Oscar Boyson’s darkly comedic and culturally relevant feature debut, Our Hero, Balthazar, is a rare indie gem. It’s one of the few films I have seen this year that stayed with me for weeks and wouldn’t leave my head. Jaeden Martell and Asa Butterfield are unstoppable forces as they step into divergent roles, demonstrating their range as seasoned and mature actors. Butterfield’s nuanced performance as misunderstood outcast Solomon is easily the best I have seen in a long time. Boyson (and his frequent collaborator, Ricky Camilleri) produced a bitingly witty yet disturbing lens into American youth today and their desensitization to violence. It’s also one of those intelligent movies that warrants deeper discussion of its themes and content, and doesn’t shy away from difficult subject matter. It gets you to ask questions you might not want answers to. — Lilli Keeve
Peaky Blinders: Immortal Man
Tommy Shelby has always been a ghost haunting his own life, and The Immortal Man is the first time the story fully commits to that idea. It would have been easy to go bigger—more guns, more empire, a louder war. Instead, it goes quieter and asks the only question left: what’s there when ambition has eaten everything it was supposed to protect? Cillian Murphy answers it in the smallest movements, carrying decades of grief and exhaustion in a flicker of the jaw, a man so tired of surviving you lean in just to watch him think. It’s one of his finest performances as Tommy Shelby, matched by Barry Keoghan, whose Duke is all hunger where Tommy is all ash—the young man still chasing the power the old one has learned to dread. Their scenes together become the film’s emotional engine: Murphy’s performance built on everything held back, Keoghan’s on everything not yet lost. The series was never about a man who couldn’t be killed. It was about what gets passed down and who’s left holding it. — Camellia Peebles
Pizza Movie
Pizza Movie earns a coveted best of the year so far in 2026 due to sheer creativity. I’ve been watching films my entire life, and I can honestly state that Pizza Movie is the most bonkers, unhinged film that I’ve ever seen. Gaten Matarazzo jumps successfully from Stranger Things, carrying his comedic chops right into his role as Jack. He has perfect chemistry with his co-star, Sean Giambrone, who plays Montgomery. They are joined by Peyton Elizabeth Lee of the Andi Mack series. Together, the trio experiences a crazy trip as they attempt to get hold of pizza so they can survive the night. Not only is the movie creative in all its scenarios, but it also manages to pack in some commentary on relationship positivity and the dangers of toxic masculinity. The movie, overall, doesn’t make much sense, but that’s the biggest thing it’s got going for it. — Aaron Ploof
The Plague
The Plague is an unsettling look at the familiar world of social hierarchy and the anxiety it creates. Everett Plunck plays Ben, a latecomer to a tween water polo camp where he desperately wants to fit in. Despite his better judgment, he falls in with the cool group, led by Jake (Kayo Martin), as they ridicule outcast Eli (Kenny Rasmussen) about a skin condition they call “the plague.” But when his conscience finally catches up with him, Ben finds himself on the receiving end of the group’s bullying.
In his first feature film, writer/director Charlie Polinger delivers an intense viewing experience that covers a wide range of feelings. Sometimes it’s like watching the feral adolescents in Larry Clark’s Kids. Other times, the camera sits underwater in a still pool for what feels like five minutes, as if Polinger is offering viewers a respite from the savagery of these children. I don’t know of another film set at a water polo camp, but I can think of plenty that explore these themes of loneliness and social exclusion. The Plague takes those well-worn ideas and turns them into an impressive first film that will sit with you long after it ends. — Steven Seighman
Project Hail Mary
Well, damn, Ryan Gosling has outdone himself with his performance as Ryland Grace. He’s the ultimate Ryan Gosling character, but thankfully, that’s just the starting point in Phil Lord and Christopher Miller’s sci-fi epic about a coward who finds it in himself to be more than an intellectual and a teacher. Look, I’m not anywhere close to who Grace is, but I could identify with his fear. There’s a part of me that wishes I could be brave when the time comes, though the chance is highly likely that I, too, would have to be drugged and dragged onto a rocket and sent out to space for what could be a one-way mission to save the world.
Project Hail Mary has a warmth and charm that extend beyond Gosling’s work, and we have the filmmakers and the cast to thank for that. I cannot forget to mention the incredible sound design, visual effects, and cinematography, all three of which are already guaranteed to be nominated for next year’s Oscars. Was the film realistic? I have no idea. What struck me was that Lord and Miller used all the tools at their disposal to tell their story, and they did it very well. — Michael Suarez
Send Help
Now that director Sam Raimi has done his time in the MCU, it’s great to see him back to his wacky, unhinged self. Send Help is the Ugly Duckling story of Linda Liddle (Rachel McAdams), a mousy, Survivor-loving corporate strategist passed over for promotion by her bro-boss Bradley (Dylan O’Brien). When their plane crashes on a remote island, the two must leave office dynamics behind to stay alive. Kooky effects, a fun story, and great performances made this an early 2026 surprise.
Rachel McAdams, in particular, is sensational. She carries the film with a nuanced performance that ranges from pushover to bully. The script from Damian Shannon and Mark Swift lets her run amok from comedy to horror to a sincerity you’re never sure you should trust. She won’t get an Oscar nomination, but she probably should.
Raimi is a master at combining B-movie camp with elevated horror, and with Send Help, the maestro is back at the top of his game. Add in a killer performance from one of Hollywood’s favorite actresses, and you have a film that is likely to land on a lot of year-end top-ten lists. — Steven Seighman
Silent Friend
How much pathos can a film squeeze out of a main character literally rooted in the ground? Ildikó Enyedi’s Silent Friend doesn’t feature any talking trees, nor does it tell (most of) its story from the tree’s perspective. And yet it makes a compelling case that its ginkgo biloba experiences life in a way not so different from our own. The film achieves this by following three human characters across three different eras in Marburg, Germany, each connected by the ginkgo tree that stands beside the local university. Through these turbulent periods, each painted in a distinct, period-specific style, they struggle to find their place in a world that seems to offer them none—much like the ginkgo itself, isolated and unable to pollinate. The film’s rhythmic editing and bold imagery create a hypnotic flow that makes its two-and-a-half-hour runtime feel weightless. Anchored by a fine performance from Tony Leung as a neuroscientist who begins studying the tree’s activity, Silent Friend is an ode not only to nature but also to the techniques we’ve developed to connect with the world and one another—chief among them, cinema. Few films this year serve as a better example. — Christopher Rhoten
Stop! That! Train!
Some movies are made for everyone. Stop! That! Train! is made for a very specific somebody, and if you’re that somebody, it’s one of the most purely joyful things you’ll see all year. This is a gleeful disaster-movie spoof that knows exactly what it is and commits completely: costumes first, deadpan second, apologizing to absolutely no one. The cast is stacked with RuPaul’s Drag Race alumni clearly having the time of their lives, and presiding over all of it is RuPaul himself, who has been doing this since the early ’90s and basically dragged an entire art form into the mainstream by sheer force of will. He’s still going, and the joy hasn’t dimmed an inch. None of this works if you walk in expecting prestige; all of it works if you walk in knowing you’re here for camp, chaos, and a wink. It’s the kind of movie destined to be passed hand to hand, quoted in group chats, and eventually crowned a cult classic by the people who needed it. Go in with the right mindset, and it’s genuinely hilarious. Everyone should see it at least once. Consider this my official dare. — Camellia Peebles
The Tempting Madness
This Tempting Madness earns my second spot. This film knows how to set the mood from the outset, opening with the near-fatal fall of its main character, Mia (Simone Ashley). It employs clever camera tricks and POV shots to disorient us and place us right in the headspace of its protagonist. The mood doesn’t let up, following the film throughout its runtime. Ashley portrays Mia as a woman who struggles to find her center after her world and physical health are ripped away from her. Her husband, played by Jake Stowell, enters her reality like an infested worm, obscuring her perceptions. As her life falls apart and she searches for answers, twists are piled on, and the truth is revealed. — Aaron Ploof
Tuner
Sometimes forgotten and taken for granted in second place to big visuals is what the full theatrical experience can do in the sound department. When done right, there’s sensory excitement between noises that rattle seats and silences that destroy our nerves. Tuner, the narrative directorial debut for Oscar-winning Navalny documentary filmmaker Daniel Roher and starring up-and-coming actor Leo Woodall as a piano repairman tempted by a life of crime, recognizes this second type of potential power and seizes it for a nifty thriller that deserves just as many big screens as the summer blockbusters it was poised to swim against.
Tuner commonly takes on Niki’s sensory perspective as someone afflicted by hyperacusis, where you hear every breath and possible ding-and-ping in a ruminative racket. That often maddening immersion is balanced by the smooth trance that comes when piano music—comprised of Will Bates’s stylish score and the unifying spine of the old jazz standard “Tenderly”—transports you mentally to another place. These two palettes, merged and expelled immaculately through Dolby Atmos speakers, penetrate your locked involvement in everything that is transpiring. Combine that sensory texture with heist film tropes, and the intentionally frenetic turns out so damn smooth. That’s proof of Daniel Roher’s complete control in assembling the polish, suspense, and wit for proper escapism. — Don Shanahan
Thank you for the chance to highlight our picks for the Best of 2026 so far. From The Odyssey to Avengers: Doomsday, many more great films appear on the calendar for the remainder of this year. We hope you return to Film Obsessive for all of our coverage of the best that is yet to come in 2026.
