Andy Webster

Shah Rukh Khan’s seasoned authority is a steady anchor amid the frantic contrivances.

The emotional dynamics in domestic violence, for the abuser and the abused, are often too disturbing and complex to be treated as superficially as The Living does.

The film may leave you hungry for deeper insight into some its most renowned purveyors.

Ms. Hammer’s gauzier sequences notwithstanding, the film’s most commanding image is the housekeeper’s description of the ruthless monasticism Bishop maintained and the compulsive writing she practiced in her studio. Amid excesses and entanglements, that concentration ensured her place in literary history.

Overabundant diffuse lighting and wide-angle perspectives only compound this horror movie’s deficiencies in plot and dialogue.

The movie may suffer from a surfeit of excesses, but it does have arresting, if overwrought, things to say about domestic abuse in India.

Mr. Chi, making his feature debut with Tentacle 8, lavishes attention on his characters at the expense of the through line binding them.

For all the movie’s flashy pyrotechnics and pulverizing techno-ish musical numbers, gleaning an emotional pulse can be challenging.

Only You is served very well by Ms. Tang (a star of Ang Lee’s “Lust, Caution”). Whether playing elated, sorrowful, coy or petulant, she consistently provides the spark the movie could use more of.

As directed by Henry Barrial, there is solid ensemble acting, particularly by Mr. Bonilla, who dependably anchors a movie that is almost too busy.

[A] brutally powerful documentary.

The ideas in this densely packed but enlightening film can be challenging, but must be heard.

Offers mild youthful rebellion and even milder youthful ardor.

The biggest offender is the director, Imtiaz Ali, who, also again collaborating with Mr. Kapoor, actually celebrates two love affairs: Ved and Tara’s, and (given Ved’s universal adulation) Mr. Ali’s with his own self-aggrandizing vision of his calling.

Relationships unfold with a bright, glossy and antiseptic sentimentality in Park Hyun-gene’s Like for Likes, which brings abundant social media usage to shopworn rom-com contrivances.

Ventura Pons’s stagy drama Virus of Fear tries to walk a thin line about its volatile subject — child sexual abuse — as it weighs a man’s possible innocence against a mob’s rage. But its attempts at ambiguity work against it.

Quiet, graceful, stately and infused with slow tension, Dana Rotberg’s White Lies unfolds with inexorable weight.

One notion underlying Shalini Kantayya’s winning documentary, Catching the Sun, is that solar power is not only a cleaner alternative to fossil fuels but can also effectively curtail unemployment.

There are heroic adults here.... There is also deft editing, artful camerawork and effective music in abundance.

The director, Joey Kuhn, making his feature debut from his own script, has created fairly credible and sympathetic characters, despite the 1-percenter milieu.

The Japanese have a term for a certain type of character in manga (comic books) and anime: bishonen — pubescent in appearance, devoid of facial hair, sensitive, unthreatening. That would be Mr. Espinosa.

In marriage and parenthood, one size doesn’t fit all. Marcia’s words at the wedding about surmounting differences speak volumes about love’s adaptability.

Zhou Shen and Liu Lu’s bleak farce Mr. Donkey, adapted from their play, has a sentimental streak, and, as farce can, a tendency to overheat. But beneath its mild staginess and intermittent mania lies a cynical, piercing parable about China’s past and perhaps its present.

Iron Moon has a slowly mounting, but lingering, impact.

Mr. Lal, making his feature directorial debut, clearly understands the camera and special effects. But working from a script by Anvita Dutt that reaches too far in too many directions, he is undone by his own ambition.

Yoshinari Nishikori’s period action film Tatara Samurai does not skimp with its swordplay, but its narrative arc takes you to a resolution uncommon for its genre.

What “Can’t Stop” mostly leaves you with is a sense of Mr. Combs’s success.

The film offers an enlightening glimpse into how the gay experience informed Mr. Maupin’s art.