One of the most well-known and lauded actresses of the twentieth century, Ingrid Bergman was whisked from her native Sweden to Hollywood where she forged a career that lasted five decades, earned her three Oscars and cost her three marriages.

ince Richard D. James first plunked out esoteric keyboard melodies and launched ambient IDM into mainstream consciousness, few producers have been as consistently creative and adept at establishing mood as Oneohtrix Point Never’s Daniel Lopatin. He makes abstract electronic music, often employing interesting and jarring production techniques like sudden stops, skips, and the occasional blast of incoherent noise.

Even if you’ve never heard a note of Grace Jones’ music, if you’ve seen a single photo of her you’ve likely never forgotten it. And for those who wondered what the backstory was on the person behind those striking, sometimes feral images, she’s defied the declaration of the title and done just that, announcing on the first page, “There will be blood.”

Comedian Neil Hamburger, like director Rick Alverson, is probably most often described to the uninitiated as “not for everyone.” This isn’t because of their work going over the audience’s head; they aim lower, like a gut punch. Both can do serious damage.

Nicolas Godin‘s talents have been established over seven albums as one half of the French duo Air. Contrepoint marks Godin’s first solo album. There are two key inspirations behind Contrepoint: classical composer Johann Sebastian Bach, eight of whose works are used as starting points for the eight tracks on the album, and pianist Glenn Gould.

A prequel to Paul Pope’s Battling Boy, focused on a younger Aurora West, this book tracks Aurora’s training under her father, hero Haggard West, and his assistant/Aurora’s near-mother figure Ms. Grately. Aurora has theories about which monster killed her mother when she was a child, and though she’s grown enough that Haggard allows her to come with him on missions, she longs to break out solo so she can hunt down that killer.

Hell-bent on grappling with moderate success on their own terms, Parquet Courts open Monastic Living with the straightforwardly titled “No, No, No!,” which finds them rejecting everything that can be stuffed into a 73-second song. Fair enough. However, after this fairly enlightened burst of primitive punk, the band settles into a numb groove that aims for No Wave devolution but arrives at little more than an audible grumpiness.

Room is a tender observation of a mother/son relationship masquerading as a suspense film.

After a seven-year absence, former Go-Betweens great Robert Forster returns with this low-key lark. Though he’s capable of sounding as theatrically distraught as ever, the prevailing mood is that of a victory lap.