2026 has delivered a trio of films that, while wildly different in tone and genre, share a common ambition: to turn familiar ground into unsettling territory. The Irish-made documentary All About the Money interrogates the paradox of a billionaire trying to burn his own fortune, György Pálfi’s Hungarian feature Hen invites audiences to see the world through a chicken’s eyes, and Jordan Downey’s horror entry The Cycle uses forensic science to unspool a personal nightmare. Together they form a compelling cross-genre review that asks what happens when wealth, animal agency, and family trauma collide with cinema.
All About the Money: Wealth as a Weapon Against Capitalism
Irish director Sinéad O’Shea turns the camera on Fergie Chambers, heir to one of America’s largest fortunes, who openly declares himself a communist. The documentary follows Chambers as he pours inherited wealth into radical projects, from funding left-wing movements to establishing a communal farm in rural Massachusetts. O’Shea resists painting Chambers as either saint or villain; instead, she lets the contradictions speak for themselves, highlighting how his extreme affluence constantly reshapes the behavior of those around him.
One of the film’s most striking moments arrives when Chambers, now incarcerated in Spain, offers to bankroll the entire production on the condition that it never reaches an audience. O’Shea’s refusal crystallizes the central tension: a man who wants to dismantle capitalism yet clings to the power his wealth affords. The documentary never offers a neat resolution, but it does expose how even a self-described revolutionary can become a puppet of his own resources. The result is a thought-provoking, unsettling portrait that remains on limited Irish screens from 30 October.
Hen: A Feathered Lens on Ethics and Existence
György Pálfi’s Hen adopts a literal avian point of view, placing a black-plumed chicken at the center of a story that blends comedy, philosophy, and animal rights. After escaping a grim factory farm, the titular hen finds refuge in a dilapidated restaurant, forging uneasy bonds with humans who gradually recognize her vitality. The film uses the chicken’s journey to pose questions about survival, motherhood, and the symbolic weight of eggs, all while delivering moments of genuine humor.
Behind the quirky premise lies meticulous animal training: eight hens and two roosters perform together to create a seamless narrative. The minimal human dialogue, mixed to echo how a bird would hear it, keeps the audience firmly in the hen’s perspective. Critics have likened the experience to Michelangelo Frammartino’s Le quattro volte, yet Pálfi adds a subtle soundtrack of spoken words that enrich rather than distract. By treating humans as a “side thread,” the film invites viewers to reconsider their relationship with non-human life, positioning itself as a potential classic of species-inclusive cinema.
The Cycle: Forensic Horror and Familial Ghosts
Jordan Downey’s The Cycle blends procedural crime drama with body-snatcher horror, anchored by Deborah Ann Woll’s performance as forensic anthropologist Dr. Meg Garland. When a series of gruesome murders leads Meg to a set of anomalous remains, she discovers that the victim is her own missing father. The revelation forces her professional detachment into direct conflict with a deeply personal quest for answers.
The film’s first act builds a chilly, oppressive atmosphere through muted color palettes and meticulous forensic imagery, grounding the narrative in realism. As Meg peels back layers of mystery, the audience is drawn into a dual tension: the scientific drive to catalogue the unknown and the emotional urge to reconcile with an absent parent. When the story finally erupts into creature-feature territory, the practical effects—crafted by Patrick Magee—deliver tangible, visceral scares that feel like an extension of the forensic investigation rather than a distraction.
While pacing occasionally stalls, the blend of procedural rigor and supernatural dread creates a unique horror experience. Supporting characters, including a father-son police duo played by Jeffrey Donovan and Will Hochman, reinforce the film’s preoccupation with legacy and inheritance, echoing the thematic concerns of the other two works.
Collectively, these three films illustrate how 2026 cinema is daringly re-examining power structures—whether economic, species-based, or familial. Each director employs a distinct style, but all three confront the audience with uncomfortable truths that linger long after the credits roll.
