Alex Saveliev

Kitarô Kôsaka’s light-hearted and contagiously joyful film contains just enough beautiful imagery, positive messages of acceptance and touching moments to warrant a look.

If the directors scaled back on the needlessly-complex tale and tightened the reigns, and if screenwriter Michael Arkof sharpened his dialogue (“I’m a deputy, not a vigilante!” Norm yells shrilly, before absconding to his trailer), they may have had something truly special here.

For a film that purports to endorses equality and female empowerment, its female characters are so uniformly idealistic they’re borderline interchangeable.

An unnecessary addition to the middling pantheon of pot flicks, Breaking Habits, like mid-grade schwag, is unlikely to get you buzzed.

Carion, along with his co-screenwriter Laure Irrman, leave things annoyingly unexplained – which would be fine in a poetic meditation on loss and grief that purposefully raises more questions than answers, but is indefensible in a neither-here-nor-there pseudo-intellectual thriller.

It’s refreshing to see intelligent teens (Molly and Amy nonchalantly switch to conversing in Chinese at one point) in a film that doesn’t resort to easy, scatological humor for laughs. In a world mired by conflict and dark entertainment that mirrors it, Booksmart takes a somewhat radical approach by endorsing a bit of light-hearted anarchy.

The life-like thriller, eccentric comedy, and outlandish horror elements don’t quite gel as well as intended, clumsily getting in each other’s way.

One thing that works well is Catalina Saavedra’s performance as the tormented Olga. The actress finds truth in an underwritten character. She reminds us that cinema needs more well-acted, nuanced films about those who are still inexplicably shunned. Sadly, Marylin brings little to that table. It purports to say a lot with a little but ends up saying very little with, well, a little.

The White Crow demonstrates that, if perhaps not having yet mastered all of the nuances of directing an artful biopic, Fiennes possesses a keen eye for detail – and the man just can’t help but exude sophistication.

Silly and scary, atmospheric and disjointed, I Trapped the Devil showcases Lobo’s affection for the genre. He wisely avoids falling into the “gore” trap, instead relying on characterization and our fear of the unknown to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

A call to action, a sobering first-hand look at the grueling ordeals refugees face, a story of love persevering against all odds, and a visceral, real-life thriller, Midnight Traveler is a unique cinematic experience that will hopefully snap us all to reality.

Higashide effortlessly switches between the two polar-opposite men, both utterly convincing.

Whether you like blues or not, you’ll appreciate the musicianship on display here. Inspired and inspiring, Satan & Adam will make you thank the heavens for this legendary duo.

Good-looking but predictable and schlocky, Mia and the White Lion is ultimately saved from slaughter by its two plucky heroes.

Sobibor may not fully do justice to the Russians’ involvement in WWII, yet it certainly serves as a powerful reminder that the nation, so ostracized by the US these days, has plenty of heroes of its own. Hopefully, it makes enough of a dent Stateside to help the less-aware think outside the box.

No wonder that cinematic auteurs like Martin Scorsese and Oren Moverman produced Diane. It brings to mind films like Kenneth Lonergan’s You Can Count On Me, produced by Scorsese, or Moverman’s Time Out of Mind (which also dealt with memories, identity and the limits of human compassion). Jones may lack a little of the former’s humor or the latter’s visual artistry, but perhaps it’ll come later. The hard skills are all here.

Ivan Kavanagh has an eye for style and a clear gift for building suspense. That said, the film is sadly less than the sum of its frequently-impressive parts. If nothing else, his messy, violent, dark and sad reflection of our society proves that the Western will never grow old.

Nothing To Do doesn’t really do much of anything.

This hummingbird soars. It has that based-on-a-true-story feel, with all the urgency and verisimilitude of a real-life tale. A sad and visceral indictment of our society under the guise of a thriller, Kim Nguyen’s rousing cinematic elegy will sneak up on you, like its titular moth.

Behrman sidesteps overt sentimentality, captures some heartrending moments and most importantly, doesn’t resolve everything with a neat “happily ever after” conclusion. The lasting impression Giant Little Ones casts may not be “giant” – but it’s certainly not “little” either.

An acute reflection of the current refugee crisis, minimalist and poetic in its approach, Transit, unlike its protagonists, seamlessly reaches its destination: a conclusion so heartbreaking, it will resonate for weeks after.

It may not be perfectly executed, or original in its approach, or particularly memorable, but McGuire’s poignant film possesses an arguably more important trait: it’s totally honest, wearing its heart on its thick parka sleeve.

In its favor, the film is competently edited, and the low production values aren’t too apparent – thankfully, it’s at least decently assembled.

Among Wolves is a subliminally powerful – if perhaps a tad too minimalist – statement on achieving redemption in a seemingly doomed place.

Game Changers does a formidable job of patiently tracing the history of game shows from their very inception to the current deluge of such shows on TV.

Welcome to Acapulco – at least partially – warrants your investment. It may not reach levels of great trash, but it sure aspires to such, and is always watchable, if only for the sight of thespians hamming it up for a buck. Here’s (vainly) hoping that Welcome to Acapulco will put those fallen legends back on the map.

A low-key, warm-hearted-but-razor-sharp study of ambition, friendship, and humanity’s inherent differences – be it between two friends or two cultures – The Saint Bernard Syndicate leaves a lasting impression and is eminently rewatchable.

Like all of the renowned filmmakers’ best movies, this faithful adaptation of the Cormac McCarthy novel hasn’t aged a bit, its poetry and beauty growing starker, its themes gaining more relevance. An edge-of-your-seat thriller and an elegiac, gut-wrenching meditation on the passing of time and generational devolution, the now-classic feature showcases the brothers’ skills at their most stripped-down and rawest.