Out There in the Dark

It’s Halloween again, and as usual, Azed & Tom are watching horror classics and scarfing down fun-sized Snickers. So far, not much different from any other night—except this year, we’re digging into Roman Polanski’s genuinely unsettling “Apartment Trilogy”: Repulsion (1965), Rosemary’s Baby (1968), and The Tenant (1976). All three films center on traumatized, paranoid, and psychologically frayed protagonists whose private sanctuaries are slowly invaded by hostile strangers. Across the trilogy, the flimsy boundary between internal neurosis and external reality begins to dissolve, allowing deep terror to bleed into domestic life. Polanski’s own life, of course, is inextricably bound up in horror: surviving the Holocaust, the brutal murder of his pregnant wife Sharon Tate by the Manson Family, and his eventual flight from the U.S. in the late 1970s following charges of statutory rape. A figure who has both suffered and inflicted profound harm, Polanski embodies the dark complexity of trauma and how quickly a life can fracture under pressure. Plus, in our usual catch-up: Tom breaks down the latest Nathan Fielder documentary, while Azed continues to crush hard on Matthew Rhys in Widow’s Bay.

Welcome back to Out There in the Dark! Grab a comfortable seat and maybe a double espresso, because Tom and Azed are taking on the Toronto International Film Festival—specifically, Alex Gibney’s gargantuan, four-hour deep dive into everyone’s favorite internet troll and occasional rocket scientist: MUSK. Between the pre-festival legal threats, Elon's usual online meltdowns, and his outright refusal to participate while threatening to get the whole damn film shelved through litigation, we feel pretty lucky to have even seen it before it potentially gets erased from existence. That said, after four straight hours in theater seats, we definitely had some thoughts—and very sore butts. Does Gibney’s portrait actually unearth anything new about one of the most online individuals on earth? Is it just an expensive hit piece, or a fair, unbiased document of a monstrously powerful wrecking ball? Plus, our deep dives into TIFF, the festival market, and our usual bitchin' and moanin' which you all love so much! Out There in the Dark: Truly one of the best hang out pods for tech oligarchs and trillionaires! Pop your headphones on and hit play. Check out the Musk Official Trailer for a preview of the archival footage and style choices discussed in the festival cut.  

Christopher Nolan’s imprimatur is such that every new release is met with an enthusiasm usually reserved for professional sports. As an auteur, Nolan is akin to a "gifted" kid: highly intelligent, hyper-focused, a bit nerdy, and occasionally insufferable. But whatever your opinion of him, his platform is massive—which is precisely what makes his latest project so intriguing. Based faithfully on Homer’s The Odyssey, Nolan’s interpretation is an impressive, yet ultimately unmemorable film. While he sticks closely to the canonical text, the updates and changes he employs are both fascinating and problematic. The performances are uniformly strong, but Nolan once again struggles to write convincing female characters, seems incapable of humor, and remains so obsessed with structure and form that it hurts the emotional core of the story. Join Azed and Tom as they answer the Siren’s call for this episode—even though everyone else begged them not to.  

This week, hosts Azed Majeed and Tom Alexander step into the frame to track the erratic, brilliant orbit of Hollywood’s ultimate populist chameleon. From his raw, Roger Corman–style B-movie roots to massive cultural landmarks like The Silence of the Lambs and Philadelphia, Demme proved that intense formal experimentation does not have to result in cold, intellectual detachment. While legendary as an "actor's director" who captured uniquely intimate, substantive performances, Azed and Tom look past the surface to analyze Demme's precise formal grammar. They break down the mechanics of his iconic direct-to-camera close-ups and explore how his democratic, deep-focus framing shattered standard cinematic hierarchies—directly paving the way for the operatic ensembles of Paul Thomas Anderson. The conversation dives deep into the "kinesic collisions" of his soundtracks (from Stop Making Sense to Something Wild), tackles the heavy sociopolitical and representation controversies surrounding Buffalo Bill, and delivers a vital psychoanalytic reassessment of his criminally underrated, gothic horror adaptation of Toni Morrison’s Beloved. Ultimately, they argue for a complete reappraisal of a director whose auteurist stamp was a radical, open-armed humanism—proving that there is a distinct, undeniable feeling to being in a Demme movie, where the lens is driven by a profound civility and a refusal to look down on a single soul.

Not since the cultural phenomenon of Barbenheimer has the cinema seen a box office boom quite like this. But this time, the revolution isn't coming from legacy directors or massive studio IP—it's coming straight from YouTube. In this episode of Out There in the Dark, we are breaking down the staggering, paradigm-shifting success of Kane Parsons’ The Backrooms and Curry Barker’s Obsession. Both of these micro-budget, high-concept psychological thrillers bypassed the traditional Hollywood machine, proving that a brilliant premise and a dedicated digital community can completely upend the studio algorithm. With no massive stars leading the way, these two films have officially achieved blockbuster status, rewriting the rules of what makes a modern movie event. Join Azed and Tom as they get "obsessive" and noclip deep into the cultural significance, hidden anxieties, and cinematic architecture of these two groundbreaking films. Turn off the lights, lock the doors, and join us out there in the dark.

If cinema is the closest thing we have to time travel, then watching "old" movies is our most direct portal into the psyche of the past. These films do more than just capture a moment; they contextualize the global industry’s shifts, the trends of the era, and the evolving politics and psychologies of the public. So many movies, so little time—but we’re on the case. In this installment of our ongoing series, "Criminally Forgotten Movies," we dig through the archives to unearth two cinematic gems that deserve a second look. Tom’s Selection: The 1943 American horror-thriller The Seventh Victim (dir. Mark Robson). This cult classic feels startlingly ahead of its time, weaving together threads of nihilism, "Goth" sexuality, and progressive subtexts. Azed’s Pick: The 1979 "love" story Chilly Scenes of Winter (dir. Joan Micklin Silver). A masterclass in late-70s ennui, this film captures the aimlessness of aging hippies in the pre-Reagan era. Starring John Heard and the late Mary Beth Hurt, it remains one of Azed’s all-time favorites. Join us as we bridge the gap between film history and the cultural snapshots these masterpieces left behind.

Once again it is confirmed that a large hotel is a world unto itself and that this world is like the rest of the large world. The guests here roam about in their light-hearted, careless summer existence without suspecting anything of the strange mysteries circulating among them."   — Siegfried Kracauer, The Hotel Lobby On this special episode of Out There in the Dark, Azed and Tom check in to Hotel Confidential. This week, we’re shifting our focus to a unique collaboration. Hotel Confidential is a new three-day contemporary art exhibition that brings together 16 local and international artists to reimagine The Royal Hotel’s Annex in Picton, Prince Edward County. Curated by Christina Zeidler and Stacey Sproule, the exhibition transforms the hotel into a site for radical artistic experimentation and unexpected encounters. The curators reached out to us to explore the cinematic DNA of the hotel, and we’re checking in for a deep dive. From the sterile isolation of high-end suites to the decaying hallways of the mind, we discuss six films that define the "hotel movie": Grand Hotel (1932, Edmund Goulding) Hotel Monterey (1972, Chantal Akerman) Mystery Train (1989, Jim Jarmusch) Barton Fink (1991, Joel & Ethan Coen) Lost in Translation (2003, Sofia Coppola) The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014, Wes Anderson) Films set primarily in hotels possess a peculiar, uncanny quality. Regardless of genre, the hotel is never just a backdrop; it is a structural machine. By offering both extreme privacy (the "Do Not Disturb" sign) and exposed public arenas (the lobby, the bar), hotels reflect both a rigid socio-political hierarchy and a Freudian dreamscape. Whether they are exposing the machinery of capitalism or the hidden selves we keep behind closed doors, hotel movies invite us to see ourselves in a new light—as long as it isn't a UV light.

The Acadamy Awards is known for being a self-congratulating, elitist, popularity contest soaked in cringe inducing segments and usually that is an accurate description. The 2026 show thankfully seemed to focus a little bit more on the actual quality of the films nominated. Yes, there were the usual awkward, phony-baloney things going on, but with a spate of excellent features, docs and technical achievements the Oscar's are actually becoming relevant again.  Azed & Tom do a quick and dirty wrap up of the actual Oscar's ceremony, the good, the bad and the ugly (The Bum Drum?). Also, a surprise announcement revealing our participation in an upcoming cool project! 

The spate of films being considered for this year’s Oscars is among the best we’ve seen in a long time. With titles like The Secret Agent, Train Dreams, and One Battle After Another, it seems the Academy is finally catching up to the audience's desire for challenging, experimental, and—dare we say it—non-English fare. Perhaps this year, amidst the global anxiety, fear, and unpredictability, we are finally realizing art’s role in informing, enlightening, and fighting back against the darkness threatening to envelop the planet. What we see in this year’s nominations is a true recognition of cinema's power to throw light into that void. Whether it’s a film about Brazil in 1977 like The Secret Agent, or one that infiltrates resistance groups like the fictional French 75 in One Battle After Another, these stories center on rebellion, resistance, and heavy ethical considerations. Join Tom and Azed as they dissect this year’s Oscars and select their favored picks to win. Plus, Tom makes an impassioned plea for his personal favorite movie of the year: Melania.

Arguably most famous for spawning the self-evolving Halloween franchise, John Carpenter is a true cinema maverick. Crossing genre boundaries usually adhered to strictly by competent craftspeople, Carpenter may represent a bygone figure in cinema; a true auteur. Carpenter's films bear an umistakable signature style. Carpenter was as at ease with sci-fi,  The Thing and Escape From New York,  as he was in mind benders like In The Mouth of Madness or even in romantic comedy, Starman. From his distinctive scores, which he often pens and performs, to his use of unglamorous stars, his clearly leftist anti-capitalist politics, and his ability to create cult classics like The Live! (a favourite of leftist academics). Azed and Tom dive deep into the Carpenter's oeuvre. And we also touch on the greatest moment in cinema history! Of course we speak of the premiere of Melania.