Alan Zilberman

This shrewdly observed story asks another question: Is civilization possible in a nation where discrimination has such deep roots? In Sweet Country, the answer arrives with a tough fatalism.

Censored Voices is an essential documentary. Its subject is nothing less than loss of innocence, the seeds of hatred and the illusory nature of victory.

Unlike the traditional issue-driven documentary, which typically unfolds like a newsreel, this one plays like a thrilling jungle adventure.

It is not exactly a thriller, yet its plausibility will inspire very real anxiety.

7 Prisoners is an angry film, but Moratto, crucially, reserves his most intense judgment for an inhumane system, not the characters who are trapped by it, each in different ways.

The result is an unabashedly violent B-movie throwback, the sort director John Carpenter used to make, with moments that resonate with real life.

Few films are both genuinely erotic and off-putting enough to inspire the occasional walkout. Raw succeeds at both.

No Greater Love gets at the camaraderie — and the contradictions — of military service in a way that few films ever have.

My King brims with intimate details, adding to a sense of authenticity that is rarely found in films.

Few war films are entertaining in a traditional sense. This one is so relentless that recoiling from it is nearly impossible.

By focusing on the details of his characters’ lives, Weinstein finds common ground on both sides of the religious divide.

This is slow, almost languid filmmaking, yet it’s a delight to watch the countless ways in which the library is still capable of lifting us.

On one level, Brian’s story is meant to be inspirational; the real Banks would ultimately go on to play in the NFL. But it is also a painful reminder of how young black people still face overwhelming disadvantages. The film leaves you wondering: What might have happened if Brian hadn’t been a talented linebacker?

This is a film that encapsulates the anxiety of the present moment, complicated by friendships that lean, at times, toward outright hostility.

This is not a film about Neruda’s life or controversial death. This is a film for folks who are unfamiliar with the writing of Neruda, or maybe even skeptical about poetry in general. They may not cherish every word of the poet’s most heartbreaking lines, but they’ll understand the man who wrote them a little better those who already do.

Pacing notwithstanding, Fast Color succeeds on the strength of its ideas.

Malek’s talents serve a much more personal, ultimately touching story.

If “Chi-Raq” aimed to shock us out of complacency, “The Next Cut” creates a more welcoming groove, encouraging greater openness to outside perspectives.

By observing the struggle of the miner with a mix of resignation and resolve, the movie hints that this struggle is the struggle of every worker.

O’Shea follows his twisted premise to its inexorable conclusion, so his film is ultimately more unnerving than sad.

Demon is not a horror film, exactly, although it can prove disturbing. Wrona jumbles several genres together, including dark comedy, to illuminate larger, more ambitious themes.

This earthbound tale has a poignant political message — and not a subtle one.

Strange Weather is wise about loss, showing the ripple effects of an untimely death. It is hardly an original concept, yet it handles this subject with the care and integrity it deserves.

Morrison, at 88, is as clear-eyed and sharp as ever. What’s most surprising about her interviews is not her candor, but her humor, revealed, as she speaks, in a way that makes you want to lean closer. (Her gifts as a storyteller are not just on the page.)

Writer-director Jason Hall astutely conveys these and other facets of the modern veteran’s experience, generating authentic drama, in scenes that play out in unexpected ways.

Director Reginald Hudlin handles the story with just enough finesse to make its details more thrilling than uneasy.

The Kennedy dynasty has its share of admirers and critics alike, and — to the film’s credit — director John Curran and his screenwriters do not appease either camp. The result is a challenging character study, punctuated by moments of uneasy suspense and dark humor.

McCarthy is not (yet) a celebrated director, but The Prodigy may change that. As with his under-seen debut film “The Pact,” his greatest asset here is his patience, followed by his evocative use of light, shadow and negative space. He’s a filmmaker who recognizes that the buildup is more fun than the payoff, and he manages to generate suspense with seemingly little happening on the screen.