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I don't know why this is on a movie list, because it's not a film, its a recording of a Broadway Show. I am not trying to bash the musical at all, this is a technicality error.

Eighth grader: Kayla Day (Elsie Fisher) is in her last week of middle school before joining high school, and she's trying to get herself out there in her school before the end of the year. Posting different videos on her blog discussing how to be more confident in being yourself, Kayla challenges herself to be brave in the scary digital obsessed world of the middle schoolers, from connecting with her current class mates to meeting new ones and trying to impress the boy she fancies.

For Bo Burnham's directorial debut, Eighth Grade is a masterful coming of age film, beautifully engrossed in the modern day and age of the current young generation. Burnham's age is no doubt his strongest benefit for taking on a coming of age project in this period, but his inter-personal study of the character Kayla demonstrates a heavy level of understanding of the teenage mind. Although myself, I am under the term young-adult, I can say that the issues dealt in the film are just as real and applicable to a universal audience. And it really comes down to the genius of his writing, a screenplay undeniably over looked by the last awards season, (but who needs to listen to awards after this year anyway). From the smallest details about pop digital culture to the playful and awkward dialogue between the kids, Burnham's script envelopes an outstanding 21st century world. Simply put Burnham knows the lives of young people.

The heart and joy of the film is a fantastic Elsie Fisher a definitive teenager, embodying the true isolated and lonely middle school anxieties, we can all recall. I saw a lot of myself in her. From her blank shyness in the class room to the her more self-confident identity alone on her blog, Fisher is a fully 3-D dimensional character. At one-point Karla comments on the fact that if people got to know her, they would see she's a fun person, and that I think is the sort of wisdom that prevents us, even grownups from engaging with other people. There's no way to prevent yourself from being caught up in this sympathetic and charming girl, her shyness makes us care for her, but the world she's facing is just as daunting. There's a more than promising future ahead of this one.

Josh Hamilton as Karla's dad: Mark is the loveable but embarrassing parent that cares deeply for his daughter but is at a long distance to understanding her fully. During critical conversations between him and Karla like all parents he is the rock of her strength and love. Between their wise cracking arguments and social boundary on the dinner table and in the car, Hamilton is adorably funny, and yet magnificently true as a parent. Burnham handles his characters with precise care but strong realism.

What Eighth Grade gloriously takes hold of is a weighty atmosphere antagonised through the sound of the music and song choices that perform in great coordination with the feelings of stress and angst. Or when Kayla stares at the boy she likes and the same slow-motion dramatic music plays, its ticklish and delightful.

With a sincere recognition of the digital world that is consumed by the young generation, with the faces and minds absorbed by their phones. One sequence with some superb editing techniques captures this engrossment almost too perfectly, through a montage of white screens.

Intelligently funny, engaged with the its culture the film is entertaining not just for its own audience but for adults alike, with an incredible lead performance of pure teenage social anxiety, Eighth Grade is a glowing gem to be seen.

When the Wilson family arrive for their holidays in Santa Cruz, father: Gabe (Winston Duke) is pumped for the family fun, but mother: Adelaide (Lupita Nyong'o) feels sceptical for their peaceful vacation, as a past trauma seems to be haunting her. When night comes, another mysterious family appear outside their house, who begin to terrorise the Wilson family, but appear to be a set of doppelgangers carrying very lethal scissors.

Fresh off his Oscar success with Get Out (2017), Jordan Peale cements his course for the horror genre in a new complex episode. Coincidentally being the new host of the upcoming revised Twilight Zone series, Jordan Peale directs an ambitious original tale of terror wrapped in its own dimension of mystery. The notion of the danger coming after you being yourself is a creepy concept, and Peale takes this into a gripping thriller opening up to a fascinating reality.

Taking a more joyful embrace of the horror genre, Us goes full out to scare, disturb and shock. The nightmare beginning with a classic home invasion is familiar territory but patiently frightening. The doppelgangers' lack of movement and intimidating stillness is enough to send shivers, accompanied by their overarching grins; we know that they not carrying those scissors to offer a free haircut. Praise be given to chorography throughout the film for its constant parade of sinister, embodied beautifully by the cast, especially to Evan Alex who plays Jason and his doppelganger Pluto in a feral animalistic physical performance. Even one moment for me during the final climax matched a perfect note of sound and movement, tense but like a ballet.

Lupita Nyong'o carries a fearsome energy all the way, encompassing the victim of terror as well as the terror itself. A magnificent staple of double identities, Nyong'o is unstoppable in both roles, a strong heroine but unnerving villain (but which is which, Peale suggests). Winston Dukes brings the relative breather in the mist of the horror, offering a frequent variety of comical lines, and humorous moments. Peale wants us to enjoy the experience as well as dread it at times. Even Elizabeth Moss's presence is well judged for the scares.

Although stating clearly that this one is not dealing with race issues, Peale continuous a political engagement through an expressive exploration of horror. The scariest thing in the world can be ourselves. An ambiguous statement, but Peale leaves enough blank spaces for this thesis to be interpreted for ourselves. As the title implies and a later a cut-throat line of dialogue: "We're Americans" brings clear to the table the ideas that Peale wants to address. With the current state of America, Peale wants to invert some challenging ideas on where a sense of position, identity, and social divide stem from; not all explicitly explored. More subtle then Get Out, Peale again holds up a mirror but really hands it to the audience for what is it they are seeing. It may be confusing, but Peale's efforts are a skilled practise of cinema and genre.

Jordan Peale's new nightmare is an impressive and exhilarating watch, definitely one to come for the fun and fear, but also you're in for an intriguing new socio-political study, along with a few laughs now and then.