I’ll admit it upfront: I used to hate Westerns. Growing up, my dad always had them on, especially John Wayne flicks. And as a stubborn kid, that was enough for me to write off the whole genre. But I was wrong.

So Fargo has always been one of those movies that’s been on my list forever. My mom is a big fan and always brings up the wood chipper scene like it’s the peak of cinema, which, honestly, now that I’ve seen it, she might be right.

Black Bag had me locked in from the very first minute. It’s a sharp, fast-paced mystery that knows exactly what it’s doing and pulls it off in just 90 minutes. That deserves praise, especially when so many modern spy thrillers feel like they’re trying too hard.

It’s wild how a movie can feel both totally spontaneous and perfectly composed at the same time. Breathless doesn’t play by the rules—it shrugs them off and lights a cigarette while walking backwards into traffic.

Goddard captures something here that feels dangerous and immediate.

Persona feels like a dream. Or maybe a hallucination. Half the time I wasn’t even sure what was really happening, but somehow that made me like it even more. There’s this weird feeling that maybe Sister Alma and Elisabeth aren’t two separate people at all.