Alistair Ryder

It’s a deeply transfixing sophomore feature that, beneath genre artifice, tells a much more direct tale of familial bonds than her debut. Overlook the mysterious time-traveling conceit and you’ll find an irresistibly prickly drama about family and generational trauma.

The low-budget nature of the production does help emphasize Ryder’s ability to create elusive, attention-grabbing visuals on a shoestring, but everything stands at such a remove it’s hard to want to get lost in the frame. Inland ultimately struggles to convince he can offer anything more than replicating another filmmaker’s well-worn style.

My Father’s Dragon is another beautifully animated effort from Cartoon Saloon, but the story fails to hit the heights of their previous work—a familiar children’s fable that hasn’t been given the necessary modern makeover.

Ticket to Paradise represents the genre at its laziest, coasting by on the natural chemistry between its two beloved lead stars, who eventually struggle to mine any humor from a script that quickly prioritizes unearned sentimentality over genuine laughs.

The twin issues of climate change and Delhi’s ensuing air pollution remain largely unspoken factors in Sen’s film, which in its best moments constructs elaborate tracking shots detailing the full scale of devastation caused by extreme weather conditions.

Finch is inconsistent, but ultimately charming, even as it will likely be a footnote next to the Hanks star vehicles it’s desperately trying to emulate.

There is nothing that ever feels particularly inspired; even when operating at its best, Ron’s Gone Wrong still cribs far too closely from other films to ever stand on its own two feet.

Ultimately, The Phantom of the Open is one of this year’s most charming films––a broad crowdpleaser that stands a good chance of winning over even the most cynical audiences.

In Clooney’s hands there is very little about this coming-of-age tale that proves particularly gripping.

Instead of breaking new ground, The Harder They Fall often feels reluctant to innovate—a love letter to classic westerns that initially succeeds at homage, only to find itself succumbing to cliche.

In The Divide, everybody is knowingly designed as a caricature, and its political ideas feel all the more shallow for it.

Certainly there have been worse screen portrayals of bipolar than The Restless, which is largely inoffensive despite its reliance on stereotypes. Instead it feels like a frustrating missed opportunity, consistently opting for melodramatics whenever it needs to seriously explore its subject matter.

Kuosmanen has crafted a drama within a clearly defined moment in recent history, only to refuse to be tied to it. This approach to period storytelling proves far more intriguing than the romantic drama within this setting.