Alex Saveliev

Fun and chilling, this bed-and-breakfast gets an extra star for its committed hostess.

Unlike the films it aspires to – Heathers, Election, American Psycho or even The Voices – Lowi’s feature’s all sizzle, no steak.

Nary a moment rings true, nary a moment elicits anything close to chills or dread – or, at the very least, unintentional laughs.

One of the many things that makes Ritu Sarin and Tenzing Sonam’s drama The Sweet Requiem so special and refreshing is that it doesn’t resort to easy political speechifying. The filmmakers deliver a taut, lyrical story that leaves a shadow, that of sadness in which a tiny spark of hope determinedly lingers.

Designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator, in equal parts juvenile and offensive, Purge of Kingdom is the worst film I’ve seen so far in 2019. If a fart gag makes your sides split with laughter, go right ahead – otherwise, avoid at all costs.

It’s not an easy watch by any means, and is bound to divide critics – but there’s no denying its forceful, searing power and the long, crimson-red shadow it casts.

Some of the navel-gazing in Use Me verges on gratuitous. Certain scenes lag momentum and pacing. Yet Shaw touches upon compelling themes: the futility of our pursuit of the American Dream, the fragile line between “fetish” and “addiction,” and the effects of society’s digitalization.

You’ll chuckle at a few moments.... You’re more than likely to wince at many more, as each remotely-genuine moment is rapidly punctuated with a forced musical cue or cheesy sentiment.

The young romance sub-plot may be a tad unnecessary, and the film ends up rather slight and anticlimactic despite the hefty subject matter. There’s no denying Huston’s mastery though, both behind and in front of the camera. Here’s to the filmmaker adding more vivid gems to his already-impressive portfolio.

As a heartfelt ode to an important historical figure, it works just fine. Just don’t expect the film to mirror Virginia’s success, come award season.

It’s a strong, confident debut, with something original to say. We all have a hidden darkness, a lurking depravity, which we suppress, push away, ignore. Violence and sexuality lie side-by-side in the recesses of our minds. Seeds masterfully explores what happens when one cannot stop the dam from opening.

The film’s messages are spelled out in big, bold letters. The tone and pace are, at times inconsistent, making for a somewhat-meandering flow. Nineteen Summers could have easily been 30 minutes shorter to avoid those dips in momentum. However, newcomer Emonjay Brown shines as DeAndre, by turns affectionate, resolute, angry at the system and himself.

It never attains the balance between gloomy allegory and Disney-like adventure, the former element too challenging for the wee ones, and the latter too infantile for their parents.

Everything is one-note, dull and, worst of all, pretentious to the nth degree.

Corbjin avoids delving into Gahan’s dark history (enough docs have done that). Instead, he has created an affecting, at times exhilarating tribute to the band, and to exorcising one’s demons through art… be it by making it or discovering it.

Despite its supposedly uplifting concept, the film ends up being somewhat of a melancholic downer, hammering home the point that the whole notion of the American Dream is ludicrous.

Babenco’s cinematic farewell isn’t perfect by a long shot. But it’s brave and poetic when it comes to facing mortality and rediscovering life. It is also most eloquent in referring to cinema as one’s lifeline with a wistful view of humanity, of those friends who stick around and those who don’t.

Kill Ben Lyk manages to be entertaining and inconsequential in equal measures. Give it a shot.

Manifesting and examining every parent’s worst fear, and bound to spark debate, this M.O.M. packs some acid with your lunch.

It’s refreshing to see romance looked at in such an authentic, yet still entertaining manner. As such, it brings to mind films by the great Nicole Holofcener.

Filled with non-sequiturs, abrupt cuts, and nightmarish interludes, The Carnivores is not without its moments of humor.

Unlike its male protagonist, who seems to remain immune to the town’s charms, you will surely not want to leave International Falls.

A by-the-numbers underdog story, bolstered by an infectiously joyous spirit and admirable energy. Those with fond memories of 1990’s bands like Soundgarden and Pixies will especially respond to the nostalgic vibes.

There’s no denying the filmmaking mastery on display, but perhaps Min-ho could make his future history lessons a little more approachable.

A twangy soundtrack, a dying protagonist, spelled-out themes of family reconciliation and facing death… Look, if that’s your thing, you may as well add a point or two to my review and enjoy the hell out of Here Awhile.

The filmmaker’s sophomore feature fails to generate any semblance of momentum or suspense. It’s filled with laughable lines of dialogue and jarringly poor editing. Mario Van Peebles single-handedly imbues it with enough gravitas to make it somewhat watchable.

While it’s abundantly clear that Farr and his star Dreya Weber, who produced the movie and is an actual aerialist, know that physics-defying world inside-out, they could use a lesson or two in defying a predictable, sentimental story arc.

Seahorse’s presentation, while intimate and well-pieced-together, comes off a bit flat, considering how truly lyrical and groundbreaking it could have been.