10 Great Gen-Z Made Movies in Need of Distribution
This summer, two of the biggest movies were made by 20‑somethings for dirt cheap and curbstomped the likes of Star Wars, He‑Man, Scary Movie, and most of this year’s releases. Curry Barker’s Obsession and Kane Parsons’ Backrooms opened the gates for a wave of Gen‑Z filmmakers to make their mark. Not to discredit the success of these filmmakers and their valiant effort, but these are horror indies made by white boys. Hollywood has been trying to find the next white boy with a YouTube following to carry their flame. I’m still pissed about the Hollywood Reporter piece that propelled 10 different YouTube filmmakers, 5 of whom were white boys and one an Asian woman.
Well, fuck that noise. I’ve recently traveled far and wide and screened many fantastic, unique movies, made by diverse emerging young talents with stories tailor-made for the zillennial audience. All deserving to be bought and brought to theaters. There are plenty of up-and-coming filmmakers telling distinct stories that should be seen by viewers worldwide, many of whom have their movies perfectly complete, played at a festival, and are ready for acquisition. Before Hollywood tries to get their own Obsession/Backrooms knock-offs the same way they made racial trauma porn disguised as “fresh Black horror” flicks post-Get Out, let me direct you to 10 Gen‑Z‑made movies from diverse voices that deserve distribution.
And because some of the mid-late ‘90s-born millennials haven’t gotten their time in the spotlight either, I’m lumping them in here as well.
Horror/thrillers directed by women and non-binary folk?! What a concept?
1) Ugly Cry
Breaking into the film industry is hard and not for the weak. Actress‑turned‑filmmaker Emily Robinson (you might know her from Eighth Grade, as the upperclassman who Elsie Fisher’s Kayla befriended) makes her directorial debut with a body-horror film that meditates on how Tinseltown affects the body image of young actresses. Delaney, an LA resident trying to find her big break, gets a callback for a monster movie but faces one drawback: she has an ugly cry. You know, the thing Viola Davis has that wins her Oscars. From there, her insecurities unravel, and she goes down every possible route, gradually self-destructing to perfect her craft. I can see you, reader, shaking in your seat trying to make The Substance comparisons… and yeah, it’s a lot like that, from a more slice‑of‑life, elevated cinematic angle. Robinson’s direction feeds into your discomfort as she thoroughly punishes tf out of Delaney and the “modern young actress” archetype – performative influencers operating in their own distorted world. In addition to directing and writing, she also stars, delivering a potent, startlingly vulnerable lead performance. Though the film’s pacing stumbles in its setup, once Ugly Cry gets some water down its stream, it becomes a brilliant commentary on modern beauty standards and self-image – something Gen Z would benefit from.
2) Sinner Supper Club
Mumblecore meets the supernatural, but makes it queer. This DIY‑style, improv‑driven horror‑comedy stars an exclusively LGBTQ+ cast and follows a Brooklyn‑based queer friend group that’s gathering for their annual dinner, dubbed the “Sinner Supper Club.” But this is the first time they’ve met since their friend passed away, and tensions rise; someone’s spirit seems to be following them. Think Mike Nichols meets Joe Swanberg meets The Blair Witch Project. Helmed by duo‑directors Daisy Rosato and Nora Kaye, Sinner Supper Club is a rare gem from this past year’s SXSW. It forms its own sub‑genre (“mumblequeer”) with masterfully improvised, naturalistic dialogue, fantastic chemistry from its cast of unknowns, a breezy 70‑minute runtime, and genuine haunting as a ghost story. It’s a true cult classic in the making, a one‑of‑a‑kind filmmaking feat that deserves to be seen by the masses.
3) The Plan
This debut from actress‑turned‑filmmaker Jessica Barr perfectly captures why group projects are the fucking worst, and why Gen-Z leftists just can’t organize themselves. It’s like that Simpsons joke, “We can’t govern,” come to life. It’s a chamber piece about a group of young adults (Ryan Simpkins, An-Li Bogan, Eve Lindley, Jordan Hull, Arkira Chantaratananond, Percy Hynes White, Logan Miller, Frank Mosley) who gather at a house to run through their plan to pull a radical heist before heading to the airport and flying to their designated location. However, the group just can’t get their shit together: tensions run high, petty squabbles break out, love triangles explode, creative differences arise, and some people second-guess their choices. The ensemble is exceptional, with Logan Miller delivering the film’s best performance and standing out as MVP. That boy deserves more flowers. But it’s Jessica Barr’s sense of blocking and her portrayal of a bustling, engaging dynamic while matching stellar dialogue to ramp up the gradual tension that’s really impressive. It captures the same sensation I had watching Birdman for the first time a decade ago, and the fact that someone much younger than Alejandro Iñárritu pulled this off on her first go in 71 minutes speaks volumes to her strength as a writer‑director. The Plan is one of the best films I’ve seen this year, and it’s worth a watch among the year’s other thrillers.
Beyond the spooky woods, lies other genres.
4) Pure
Finally, a coming-of-age Black wlw story! Black and Blasian, front and center. Do y’all understand how rare that is in the modern landscape? Name me five movies in the past five years that followed two Black lesbians falling for each other. Exactly.
Based on the HBO Max-acquired short of the same name, Natalie Jasmine Harris’ directorial debut, currently in pre‑production, ventures into uncharted territory, uncovering the heteronormative southern Black cotillion culture. Per Deadline: “When Celeste (Imani Lewis), a 17‑year‑old slam poetry prodigy, is uprooted from her Bay Area community and moved to Maryland’s elite Black suburbs, she’s forced to participate in a prestigious cotillion season. As she prepares to debut into high society, she must confront her burgeoning queer identity and decide what kind of coming‑out story she wants for herself.”
I had the pleasure of attending an event promoting the film to generate hype a little while back with the cast + crew, and Q&A moderated by Alyah Chanelle Scott. There was a live reading of a few scenes a few months back (re: pic above), and some of the scenes penned by Harris and co‑writer/producer extraordinaire Yoko Kohmoto (seriously, if you don’t know her name, keep her on your watchlist; she’s one of the best in the biz making sure new voices burst through the mold) are fluffy, light, and the best type of bubbly queer joy that young Black queers will absolutely fall for. It’s currently in active development and set to shoot soon, but it needs to secure a distributor. Ahem, ALAYNA MAYO. WHERE ARE YOU, MAMA? This screams Orion Pictures in every way imaginable.
5) Human Theories
From the writer of Tahara, Jess Zeidman’s directorial debut is essentially “22 Short Films About Springfield” – random snapshots of various people in funny scenarios throughout the city, some connected, some not, but all capturing the city’s aura. It’s a burgeoning love letter to the city and those “haha, awkward” experiences one has as a late 20‑to 30‑something navigating urban life. There are bits that will make you remind you of people you know, situations they been in, you’ve been in, or see your awkward ass self reflected in real time. Starring a ton of NYC‑based comedians you’ve probably seen on Vulture, TikTok, another indie flick, or as an SNL writer, they hilariously bottle up a sweet, charming, tender, and funny tribute to the Big Apple in all its idiosyncratic, diverse weirdness. Maybe this is my most biased pick because I know about 83% of the people who worked on this damn thing (also produced by Yoko Kohmoto, legend!), but also, fuck that, there’s no movie like it these days. I can’t stress enough how short all these indies are; like many others on this list it’s around 70 minutes, clocking in at such a breezy runtime that won’t take much time out of your day. It’s a thorough, sweet crowdpleaser, especially for anyone who wants to know what NYC through a young adult’s eyes looks like.
6) Adam’s Apple
I genuinely didn’t want to add any documentaries here, because those are easier to get security these days than narratives. However, I can’t pass up Adam’s Apple. Co‑collaborating with his filmmaking mom, Amy Jenkins, Adam Sieswerda’s self‑portrait about his transitioning during adolescence in a rural New Hampshire house is a beautiful form of self‑expression and boyhood that will make tons of trans youth feel seen. Mostly documented by Jenkins, the film follows Adam (now a man and recent Columbia graduate) as he comes into his own, learning to live fully as himself while his dad learns to accept him. Because it centers on a white, nuclear family in a rural area working to love and accept their kid, it’s an essential watch for trans youth and ignorant folks who don’t know how to tackle trans conversations, especially in backwards states targeting gender care. It shows how simple it really is to let your kid live fully and freely.
7) The Musical
This past Sundance debut from Giselle Bonilla showcases a visionary in the making – even if the script doesn’t quite hit the high note. The film follows a grouchy middle school teacher (Will Brill) who puts on a petty musical to sabotage his boss (Rob Lowe) for dating his ex (Gillian Jacobs). Listen, I’m gonna be real: I don’t like the script that much. It’s far too entrenched in Doug’s toxic, entitled behavior, completely missing a satirical edge or any character calling him out on his egotistical bullshit (why straight men should never go into musical theater). However, Bonilla’s direction is the film’s strongest asset, pairing deadpan humor with a giallo‑tinged aesthetic, using stylized color palettes and soft, gliding camera movement to give the film an unexpectedly striking look. Hell, she was just awarded by the Bentonville Festival for Special Jury Mention for Directorial Vision. With a statement saying, “From inspired casting and standout performances to expert pacing and shot selection, Bonilla demonstrates remarkable command of every aspect of filmmaking.” Let her write one! It works as a calling card, making you go, “Yo, give her an actual musical. Give her a horror, even.”
Films I haven’t seen but I hear are fantastic.
8) Whisperings of the Moon
The late Yuqing Lai’s (who died tragically at the end of last year) first, and sadly only, movie exemplifies how talented they were and how they should have had a promising future ahead of them. Whisperings of the Moon is a queer romance that follows a theater actress (Sopheanith Thong) who returns home to Cambodia after her father’s passing and reconnects with her former lover (Deka Nine). The film has received an unequivocally positive reception from Letterboxd users who’ve screened it at festivals such as Busan, Slamdance, and Inside Out. Praised for its unconventional handheld style, unrelenting visceral raw emotion, and lead performances, Whisperings of the Moon sounds like a real gem that, like its filmmaker, should be immortalized beyond the festival circuit. I can only imagine the producing team’s pain in having to secure distribution for a filmmaker who is not with us anymore, but that should not negate their deserving to be widely released, especially for queer, Asian audiences. And to commemorate a filmmaker whose distinctive voice was taken too soon.
9) Three Colors: Pan-African
A Black anthology movie uniting all three colors of the Pan‑African flag. Helmed by Elijah Davis, Allison A. Waite, and Tyler Ocasio Holmes, each directing a segment, the film follows three separate stories: a collegiate football star scrambles to save his career after a devastating injury fractures his sense of self‑worth; a Ghanaian single mother loses her job and faces deportation as an unlikely group of heroes rallies around her; the lead of a struggling Black sitcom questions the cost of success as the network forces the show into racist caricature to boost ratings. Though I hear the film’s throughline is tonally messy – and so is its framing device, with one segment outperforming the others – it’s been taking home awards throughout the festival circuit, including the Audience Award at Slamdance and ABFF. It also features Loretta Devine, who is (to me) the pillar of underrated Black actresses. So if you have her, you know peak Black cinema was achieved.
Honorable Mention: Fucktoys
Annapurna Sriram’s rambunctious, colorful, irreverent, and humanizing caper romp is an absolute deranged riot. Starring, writing, and producing, Sriram plays AP, a sex worker trying to bag a grand so she can pay a psychic (Big Freedia) to break her curse. What follows is a silly scooter‑driven ride through Trashtown USA, working with various idiosyncratic clients (one played by François Arnaud), told through a caring, witty lens, unabashed queerness, laugh‑out‑loud raunchiness, kaleidoscopic sequences, surprising introspection, and stunning 16mm cinematography. It combines erotica and French New Wave and is unlike any movie released today. It actually champions the people who profit off others’ fetishes without dehumanizing them or their work – mandatory “fuck Sam Levinson” here.
Despite being one of the funniest films of the last few years, Fucktoys has spent a good year in independent distributor hell since premiering at SXSW 2025, for reasons I wish I knew (speculating that nobody knows how to sell sex comedies, especially one made by a woman, despite the one made by a ding-dang dude two years ago that won Best Picture). Annapurna could do Anora, but Sean Baker could never do Fucktoys. Everyone who has seen it adores it immensely. The only reason it’s an honorable mention is, well, Sriram is a millennial, but surely Gen-Z would eat this shit up because they have nothing like this.
Okay, one white boy movie, because I love it!
10) Crash Land
Dempsey Bryk’s directorial feature debut, Crash Land, is possibly one of the most charming comedies you’ll see… made by a bunch of Canadians. So… international! YES! LOOPHOLE! The film follows a group of young adult amateur stunt performers – Clay (Noah Parker), Darby (Billy Bryk), and Lance (Gabriel LaBelle) – living in a podunk Canadian town who get into Jackass-esque shenanigans. But when one of their stunts leads to Darby’s death, the surviving friends try to honor him by making a movie framed around him and his stunt work, hoping to prove that his life – and by extension theirs – has meaning. The kicker? Neither of them knows how to make a movie or what a good one entails. They enlist a director, Sander (Finn Wolfhard), and a new Québécois transplant, Gemma (Abby Quinn), as their star. While stumbling through production, the boys (mostly Clay) get on their Stacie Orrico shit and wonder if there’s got to be more to life than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy them.
Bryk’s debut, which explores brotherly love and masculinity through a charming, dry‑witted atmosphere, falls squarely between Jackass and Jared Hess. The ensemble is great, with Parker, LaBelle, and Quinn (the only American in the production, showing off a Québécois accent) doing fantastic character work. It may start simple and heavy, but it slowly and surely turns into a touching, thoughtful story about maturing, self‑expression, and coping with loss. This is the epitome of a crowd‑pleasing charmer that will make you stand up and cheer.
