Bill Goodykoontz

It’s a terrific example of a movie that doesn’t work too hard to make you love it. It’s patient as it waits for you to come around to its considerable charms.

I love movies like The Wailing. Na Hong-jin’s film is like a genre buffet, with horror as the main course, but a hearty helping of mystery, crime drama, black comedy and family relations on the menu, as well. Don’t forget the side dishes of religion, superstition and ritual. It’s a full meal.

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is not the first film about family secrets coming to light through grief, but it may be the most original.

To say that the film is uncomfortable to watch is an understatement. It's searing. Yet it's also invaluable.

Birbiglia, whose previous feature was the well-received “Sleepwalk with Me,” has made a tiny gem, a delightful film as surprising as it is satisfying.

What Boyle and Sorkin are after here is a portrait of Jobs, not a photograph. And they have succeeded in making one, in wildly entertaining fashion.

The great success for Mendes and Craig, however, is that while Skyfall obviously has a great fondness for the past, it's not trapped there. It also anticipates Bond's future. In this immensely satisfying movie, so do we.

Black Bag, Steven Soderbergh’s outstanding new film, is sleek, cool, polished, smart, smooth — if Soderbergh were a thief, he’d leave no fingerprints.

This is not an anti-religious polemic, though it easily could have gone that way. Instead it is a much more thoughtful film and in some ways more troubling. No one is trying to do the wrong thing here, but, as with most things in life, it becomes increasingly hard to know what the right thing might be.

The film gifts us with a fresh perspective, not just of the space race, but of ourselves.

I love movies like this — sweet little surprises that stick with you.

Star Trek Into Darkness is a giddy homage to what’s come before it, but it also at least tries to go boldly where ... well, you know.

Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs is delightful, giddy fun, but it’s more than that. It’s also insightful and relevant, all while existing inside one of the signature wildly creative, self-contained worlds Anderson creates.

Directors Drew DeNicola and Olivia Mori’s film Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me looks at the band’s rise, such as it was, and its inevitable crumbling, as well as the influence its recorded legacy had on popular music. And it’s terrific.

Son of Saul offers Nemes' harrowing vision of the possibility of peace, at least within oneself. And it is a singular vision, one that demands to be shared.

Shaffer's inexperience pays off. He's completely natural as a mixed-up kid (and great on the mat).

It is gripping from the start, not just because of the quality of the music, but because of Marley's magnetic, challenging personality, as well.

In theory, we go to movies for enjoyment. Director Rodrigo Cortés inverts that notion with Buried, a terrific, claustrophobic, fist-clenching film in which he tortures his audience in exquisite fashion.

Strange Darling is an original, well worth seeing — and then talking about.

Jiro Ono is a magician.

You may or may not be surprised by developments here, but it doesn’t really matter. What does is the honesty of the characters and the absolute delight it is to spend time with them.

The story is infuriating — not in the way King presents it, not at all, but in its details. The manipulation of justice is heartbreaking. Though sadness isn't what you'll most likely feel while watching. Anger is. The betrayal in Judas and the Black Messiah extends far beyond the title character, making it an even greater tragedy.

There is strength in simplicity, something the Dardenne brothers' Two Days, One Night and its brilliant star, Marion Cotillard, prove emphatically.

Chen captures with both humor and heartbreaking realism the complicated mechanics of the family dynamic and how outside forces work to shape it.

It’s a horror-movie coming-of-age story, absolutely bonkers and gory and at its heart an art film about finding your own way in a world that has never made any sense since you’ve been in it, which is probably what the world feels like to any kid growing up, only most kids don’t have to protect themselves from zombies who want to devour them.

It's a terrific movie.

Long story short: Hunt for the Wilderpeople is a terrific movie and you should do whatever you can to see it.

[Jodorowsky's] a hoot, and so is Jodorowsky's Dune. But it's something more, too, a look at twisted genius and missed opportunities, a sad but intriguing combination.

Movies about movies don’t always work. Even in this case, the films Scorsese discusses are superior to the one we’re watching. (Most of them, anyway.) But “Made in England” is so good in its own right, as a gateway to so many remarkable films, that it’s a great starting point for the uninitiated and a great reminder for everyone else.

Simien's film is one of those rare works that teach by appearing not to — you laugh at some of the antics, cringe at others, but the film is so entertaining you may forget you're learning something.

What Abrams has done is find and return the ingredient crucial to the original three films in the franchise that was sorely lacking in the second round: fun...There are some laugh-out-loud moments here, but also some touching ones. Happy, sad, exciting, silly — all that is included, along with the original sense of Saturday-morning-serial abandon that made what became known as “A New Hope” so wonderful all those years ago.

The last act takes a couple of turns that rely too heavily on coincidence, but overall Whiplash (the title comes from the name of one of the songs the band plays) hits very few sour notes.

This is a film as powerful as it is painful.

Krisha is a unique film, honest and searing.

Jockey, Clint Bentley’s debut feature as a director, is a delightful subversion of the typical sports movie. It’s an assured film featuring outstanding performances, which of course helps a lot.

The storytelling in Linoleum isn’t simple, but the joys of its discoveries are. It’ll make you think, and ultimately it will make you smile.

Using the interviews along with news footage and occasional re-enactments, Moreh conducts a kind of primer in the organization’s history, which is, in its own way, a history of modern Israel. It’s fascinating.

The real hero here is Joss Whedon, who directs the film with a fanboy's enthusiasm and a thorough knowledge of the genre.

The naturalistic style Michod employs adds to the sense of dread.

Watching the film, emotions range from sadness, of course, to frustration to outright anger.

The genius in Wright’s performance and Jefferson’s direction lies in how they don’t succumb to the temptation to overplay anything. Wright gets Monk’s rage just right — it’s internal, though at some point a pressure cooker has to blow.

Yun's performance is genuinely beautiful, a haunting expression of life, of its disappointments and its possibilities, rendered in a way that befits the title.

It's easy to get carried away with movies like this, which lend themselves to fanboy hype. It's not a perfect movie. But it is one that is hugely enjoyable, bears repeated viewings and will be as funny in 10 years (or 50) as it is now. And that's pretty swell.

Bigelow brilliantly builds tension, to the extent that the third version we see is every bit as nerve-wracking as the first if not more so. This is nail-biting stuff, agonizing to sit through.

Brilliant performances from Tom Courtenay and especially Charlotte Rampling make the proceedings all the more genuine, as they bring to piercing life the relationship of two people who maybe don't know as much about each other as they once believed.

It is exceptional acting, and Locke is a tremendous piece of filmmaking.

Cinematographer Darius Khondji gives the film a gritty, twitchy feel. The Safdies give it a story and a pace that never lets up. But Sandler gives it life, and makes Uncut Gems a must-see movie. Just remember: breathe.

Toy Story 3 is very much a worthy entry in the series, a movie well worth making (and seeing). It continues the legacy. It just doesn't expand upon it.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a full-on cinematic experience. It’s rare that a movie that you should see is also one you want to see. This is one.

Villeneuve's telling of her story - and of her children's - is painful, searing and something close to brilliant.

Everything Must Go leaves the resolution open, not telegraphing Nick's future. It is as unsettled as life, and the film is all the better for it.

Hausmann-Stokes won’t let the film get sappy; Martin-Green and Harris ensure it. Instead, it’s an unflinching look at a health crisis, a film that arrives at what it’s trying to say through unconventional means, and is all the more effective for it.

It's a measure of how good a film Nowhere Boy is that it would be compelling even if it were the story of the formative years of a boy named Joe Brown.

There is something fascinating about the intimacy of the camera here that is magnetic. And harrowing. And frustrating. And maddening. And a little sad.

A fantastically entertaining movie.

Like its stars, the film's not particularly flashy, it's just good, and it's hard to find fault in that.

The look of the film is amazing. The animation, particularly when the dragons take flight, is seamless.

Some people will find Miranda July's film a poetic triumph, a meditation on responsibility and disappointment. Others will find it hopelessly pretentious, one of those movies only pointy-headed critics can abide. I found the film to be more of the former than the latter. Except when the cat talks.

This is a film that deals with suicide, missed chances, depression, infidelity and more. Yet the movie itself isn't depressing, thanks to Hader, Wiig and director and co-writer Craig Johnson.

It's Kikuchi who carries the film. She gives Kumko a sense of dignity and strength in the face of absurdity, and does so with few words.

So what drives these men? “Because it’s there” merely scratches the surface. Meru may not answer the question completely — likely nothing can — but it is a thrilling, harrowing attempt.

Ultimately it's Wasikowska's performance that captivates. It's oddly compelling — she doesn't say much, and what she does say is usually off-putting. But there is a fierceness in her eyes as she walks, a determination that almost dares you to look away.

Some elements of the film are too melodramatic, but there's not a bad performance in it -- look at the cast and that's not surprising -- and Gosling is outstanding.

Disney scholars may scoff that it’s not a warts-and-all portrayal of the struggle to bring “Mary Poppins” to the screen, but that seems almost churlish in light of the enthusiasm Hanks brings to the film, or the eventually melting icy facade Thompson puts up.

Fanning is nearly perfect as Ginger navigates choppier waters than most teens have to. There is not a false note in her performance; no matter how melodramatic things become, everything about Ginger remains genuine.

War is much on the minds of people right now, and 1917 is a good reminder, flaws and all, of what that really entails. The contradiction, of course, is that it is not one long slog through gorgeous sunsets, but a million little moments that make up the effort. That’s kind of the movie Mendes made, and yet it’s not. You want to feel a movie like this, but too often you simply appreciate it.

It takes shortcuts to do it, but ultimately Flora and Son will make you happy. And what’s wrong with that?

Muylaert goes for answers and, at times, they may come a little easily for all of the turmoil that leads to them.... But Casé’s performance overwhelms any such quibbles. She is a delight, and thanks in large part to her performance, so is The Second Mother.

No, it’s not “The Shining.” It’s not trying to be. But it is a salve when we need one most, and that’s a lot.