Friendship

Friendship, directed by Andrew DeYoung, is easily one of the best and most excruciatingly funny indie films of 2025. It’s a dark comedy wrapped in the skin of a horror movie, where the monster isn’t a ghost or slasher but a painfully lonely man trying way too hard to make a new friend. Tim Robinson plays Craig Waterman, a boring marketing exec clinging to the last thread of his marriage and trying not to alienate his teenage son. Enter Austin (Paul Rudd), his effortlessly cool new neighbor. Craig’s desperate attempt to bond with Austin starts innocently with grilling, beers, and bad jokes, but quickly spirals into obsession. What makes it so brilliant is how uncomfortable it all is. The comedy isn’t played for broad laughs; it’s slow, awkward, and intimate. And it hurts.

DeYoung shoots the film like it’s a psychological thriller. The lighting is harsh and shadowy. The camera lingers too long. The house feels haunted not by ghosts, but by Craig’s growing delusion. It’s visually unnerving, which makes the absurdity even funnier. You’re not laughing at Craig; you’re cringing with him. Friendship is a beautifully calibrated car crash of a film. It’s smart, agonizing, and deeply weird, and I loved every minute of it.

Magic farm

Amalia Ulman’s Magic Farm is one of the funniest, sharpest indie films of 2025 and one of the weirdest in the best way possible. Shot in a loose, chaotic Gonzo style, the film follows a bumbling U.S. documentary crew who travel to rural Argentina hoping to find a viral musician, only to end up in the wrong town entirely. Instead of cutting their losses, they double down, manufacturing a fake music scene with unsuspecting locals, livestock, and a growing desperation for likes and shares.

Ulman leans hard into the absurdity, and it works. The handheld, off-kilter camerawork feels spontaneous and alive, capturing the dusty charm of the village, the unpredictable energy of its residents, and plenty of delightfully surreal moments involving goats, dogs, and cats. The visuals are just strange enough to be compelling without feeling forced, like Vice News meets Waiting for Guffman.

What makes Magic Farm so hilarious is how blind the crew is to the actual story unfolding around them: a real, escalating public health crisis they ignore in favor of viral clickbait. The irony is both tragic and laugh-out-loud funny. Ulman skewers Western media arrogance with wit and style, and the result is a wonderfully chaotic satire.

The assessment

This is one of the most quietly terrifying films of 2025. The Assessment is set in a not-so-distant future where the right to have children is determined by the state. The film follows botanist Mia (Elizabeth Olsen) and VR designer Aaryan (Himesh Patel) as they endure a grueling seven-day evaluation to qualify for parenthood. Their evaluator, Virginia (Alicia Vikander, brilliantly cold), lives with them, observing, provoking, and manipulating their every move.

The brilliance of The Assessment lies in its restraint. Fortuné doesn’t rely on high-tech spectacle; instead, she creates a stark, antiseptic atmosphere where every choice is tracked, judged, and optimized. The couple's apartment, filled with smart devices and immersive VR environments, becomes a quiet prison. It’s all eerily plausible, which is what makes it so unsettling.

This is a film that burrows under your skin and stays there. It’s a warning shot aimed at our increasing willingness to let tech giants and data-driven systems determine the most intimate parts of our lives. Fortuné’s direction is crisp and clinical, the performances are excellent, and the ideas are genuinely chilling. The Assessment isn’t just good; it’s essential viewing for anyone worried about where we're headed.

Presence

Presence is one of the most original and visually striking indie films of 2025 and another reminder that Steven Soderbergh remains one of the most fearless formal innovators working today. The film unfolds entirely from the perspective of a ghostly presence haunting a suburban home, and we never leave its viewpoint. No reverse shots, no cutaways, just the unsettling stillness and slow drift of a spirit lingering quietly at the edges of a family in crisis.

What could’ve been a gimmick turns into something surprisingly emotional and immersive. We observe the Payne family as they move into their new house following the death of their daughter Chloe’s friend. Chloe (Callina Liang, excellent) begins to sense the ghost’s subtle attempts to intervene, even as tensions rise between her and her distracted, grieving parents.

The cinematography is stunning, fluid, slow, and voyeuristic. Every shot feels intentional, with the camera floating gently through space like a silent witness or a soul stuck between worlds. It’s eerie without relying on jump scares and deeply human while never being sentimental.

Presence is another example of Soderbergh’s refusal to play it safe. It’s a ghost story as an art film, and it works beautifully. I loved it.

Secret mall apartment

Secret Mall Apartment is one of the most fascinating and unexpectedly moving documentaries of 2025. Centered on a group of eight Rhode Island artists who, in 2003, secretly constructed a fully furnished apartment inside the massive Providence Place Mall and lived there undetected for four years, the film is both a stranger-than-fiction tale and a sharp critique of the world we live in.

Yes, the premise is wild, but Workman isn’t just chasing spectacle. What emerges is a deeply thoughtful exploration of resistance against gentrification, surveillance, and the creeping commodification of every square inch of urban life. The artists’ motivations were complex: part prank, part protest, part performance art. And as the documentary shows, they weren’t just hiding from mall security; they were making a statement about who gets to occupy space and what “public” really means in a society shaped by corporate architecture.

Workman weaves archival footage, interviews, and present-day reflections into a lean, engaging story. The documentary is funny, subversive, and genuinely thought-provoking. It’s about malls, yes, but also about how capitalism swallows creativity and how a few bold people pushed back, even if just behind a fake wall. Secret Mall Apartment is a must-watch.