When her mentor, Governor Bill Moore (Albert Brooks), takes another job, Ella McCay (Emma Mackey) has to step in to replace him. Ambitious and idealistic, Ella wants to do well, but finds herself in over her head in a job where she has to please everyone. To make matters worse, her estranged father, Eddie McCay (Woody Harrelson), returns to make amends for all the mistakes he made when Ella was a little girl. Can Ella balance a messy personal life with an even more chaotic professional one?
A big critical and commercial misfire when it was released last December, Ella McCay has more positives than negatives. Mackey is winning in a lead role that requires a deft balance of comedy and drama, and the stacked supporting cast, which includes Jamie Lee Curtis, Ayo Edebiri and Jack Lowden, is solid. Writer and director James L. Brooks (Terms of Endearment) still has an ear for distinct dialogue, and his baby-boomer optimism about politics and ethics is refreshing to experience in 2026.
Ashley (Adria Arjona) has something to confess to hubby Carey (Kyle Marvin) — she’s been unfaithful in their marriage. What’s worse is that she wants a divorce, a stunning request that sends Carey fleeing to their mutual couple friend’s beach house. But when he finds out Paul (Michael Angelo Covino) and Julie (Dakota Johnson) are in an open relationship, he sees an opportunity to get back at Ashley by starting an affair with Julie.
That’s just the first act of Splitsville, a screwball comedy about all the peaks and valleys of modern marriage. There’s a lot going on in the movie, with affairs to remember and hookups best forgotten, but the movie skews more farcical than dramatic. You’re invited to laugh at all the f***ed up situations these two couples get themselves into, and Splitsville succeeds as a sex comedy that’s about as unsexy as you can get. It’s silly rather than erotic, but be warned — it may scare you away from putting a ring on anyone’s finger.
Fortysomething Leah (Kelly Rowland) wants to move ahead in her career, and she sees an opportunity to do so when a TV producer job for NYC’s hottest morning show is posted. But things get complicated when she realizes her primary rival is Jarrett (Method Man), her ex who happens to be just as obsessed with snagging the prime gig. Jarrett swears he’s a new man, but can she trust someone who has burned her before?
A step above the usual Hallmark rom-com fare, Relationship Goals is a glossy straight-to-streaming flick that doesn’t reinvent the wheel. You can guess where the story is going, right down to the third-act reveal that maybe Leah and Jarrett are meant to be all along. A lot of the heavy lifting is left to the leads, and they deliver. Rowland and Method Man are famous for being music stars, but they show a natural screen presence that will appeal to anyone who bopped to “Dilemma” or “What’s Happenin” in the early 2000s.
Those waiting for another season of Netflix’s COVID hit show, The Queen’s Gambit, will like Queen of Chess, an absorbing documentary about a real-life female chess whiz who broke ground in the male-dominated sport. Hungarian Judit Polgár was only 12 years old when she made waves as a chess prodigy. Before too long, she was challenging the game’s very best players, like Garry Kasparov.
But the pressures to succeed were too much, and Polgár retired in the ‘90s to raise a family. Director Rory Kennedy chronicles Polgár’s 1980s rise to her current role as a proud grandma with unusual urgency, creating a portrait of a woman few know about or appreciate. Even if you’re not a fan of chess, you’ll be hooked by Queen of Chess and its depiction of a young athlete who reached the top of the sport before willingly walking away from greatness.
When shy clothing store clerk Matthew (Théodore Pellin) befriends up-and-coming pop star Oliver (Archie Madekwe), he’s thrilled he gets to be close to one of his favorite musicians. But his adoration of Oliver soon turns into an unhealthy obsession that only increases as he records Oliver’s every move with a camera. When Matthew captures something he shouldn’t have, their relationship turns violent. Is Michael’s latent attraction to Oliver fatal? Or something more mysterious?
Lurker is a thriller in name only; while it shares similarities with Fatal Attraction and Perfect Blue, it’s more of a contemplative drama about the dangerous allure of fame. Oliver’s appeal to Matthew isn’t exactly sexual — it’s more complicated than that. The movie invites you to guess what his motivations are for lurking around Oliver and why Oliver allows him access to his personal life even when he shouldn’t. Lurker is ultimately arresting and unsettling for the same reason: it doesn’t provide any easy answers.
Who is Peter Hujar anyway? Hujar was a New York City photographer best known for his simple black-and-white portraits in the 1970s and 1980s. One day in December 1974, he sat with writer Linda Rosencrantz and talked about his work, his personal life and anything that came to his head.
The transcript of that interview forms the basis for Peter Hujar’s Day, a slice-of-life drama that follows two people, Peter (played by Ben Whishaw) and Linda (Rebecca Hall), around a gritty New York City as they talk and talk some more. That doesn’t sound too riveting, but what makes Peter Hujar’s Day so absorbing is watching these two strangers form a brief but meaningful connection. This isn’t a love story or a drama or a comedy — it’s life, or a snapshot of a life, in a moment of time that’s faithfully and beautifully captured by director Ira Sachs.