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Stars: Haven Lee Harris, Augie Duke, Brionne Davis, Morgana Ignis, Maria Olsen, Téa Mckay, Timothy Lee DePriest, Angelica Ulloa, Phillip E. Walker, Emily Meister | Written and Directed by Ryan Stevens Harris

Anyone who grew up in a dysfunctional household knows just how traumatic childhood can be. In Moon Garden, writer/director Ryan Stevens Harris visualizes those traumas as the nightmarish denizens of the dark, industrial wasteland that a young girl finds herself trapped in.

Emma lives with her parents Sara and Alex. They love Emma, but they don’t love each other anymore. After getting a scare one night she runs to their room, only to encounter something even scarier, the two of them in the midst of a loud, intense argument. Running from it she trips and takes a fall down the stairs which leaves her in a coma. Her struggle to awake from it becomes a nightmarish trip...

From the first time I saw it until this moment, two days before what might just be the most important, potentially resonant (for good and ill) American presidential election since the days of the Civil War, no other movie has expanded in my view more meaningfully, more ambiguously, with more fascination than has Robert Altman’s Nashville. We often hear of movies which “transcend” their genres, or their initial ambitions or intentions, and often built into that alleged transcendence is a condescension to said genre, or those ambitions or intentions, as if the roots were somehow corrupt or unworthy, in need of reconstruction. If the form of Nashville transcends anything, it’s the shape and scope of the multi-character drama as we’d come to know it in 1975, which was dominated at the time by disaster movies and their jam-packed casts filled with old Hollywood veterans and Oscar winners. But...

'Steve Jobs' movie poster. 'Steve Jobs' movie: 'Riveting, high speed' biopic starring Michael Fassbender at his best On the outside, computers are clean, symmetrical slabs of molded polycarbonate; pleasant, or at least inoffensive, to look at. On the inside, however, the part most consumers don't see, is a bento box of circuit boards, memory chips, wires, graphics cards, and cooling systems, busily processing and moving the innumerable pieces of information that make the unit work flawlessly or, occasionally, crash. What director Danny Boyle's ferocious three-act rocket ride, Steve Jobs, teaches us about its eponymous tech icon, is that he was much like a computer: on the outside, clad in his signature black turtleneck and jeans, he was trim, bespectacled and flawlessly functioning. On the inside, he was on the brink of crashing, his internal Os in constant operation, avoiding, justifying, and occasionally acknowledging his poor treatment of...