David Levine

David Levine’s filmography is a bit of a wild ride, honestly. First up, there’s Nickel Boys (2024), which dives headfirst into the brutal realities of a reform school in the Jim Crow South. It’s not just a history lesson—this thing packs a gut punch. Levine doesn’t sugarcoat anything; the storytelling is raw, and you feel every injustice, every moment of hope these boys hang onto. There’s heartbreak, but there’s this flicker of resilience running through the whole film. You walk away thinking about it for days, maybe weeks. Jump over to Foe (2023), and you’re in for something completely different. This one’s got a sci-fi twist, but it never loses touch with real human emotion. Imagine grappling with identity, love, and trust—all set in a near-future landscape that’s both familiar and unsettling. Levine tackles big questions, but the heart of the movie is all about relationships. The tension crackles, and there’s this constant unease, like the rug could be pulled out from under you at any second. And then, there’s House of Stairs. It’s a psychological thriller that’ll mess with your head. Levine creates this claustrophobic atmosphere, trapping a bunch of teens in a bizarre, never-ending staircase. The social experiments? Yeah, they get dark. Power struggles, paranoia, desperation—it all unravels in real time. You’re never sure who to trust or what’s real, and that’s the fun of it. Levine’s style? Never boring, that’s for sure. He’s not afraid to push boundaries and make you squirm a little.