Bill Goodykoontz

Along the way, Koichi and Ryunosuke grow up a little bit; Kore-eda isn't opposed to letting reality intrude on their lives. It's not sad, but more wistful -- the young actors make it so. They are delightful. So, too, is I Wish.

Maysles gets to the heart of what is important to Apfel: truth, in a world in which it's in increasingly short supply.

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 Days on Mars isn’t a disaster. Robinson, in fact, shows some promise. It’s just not much of anything, a movie ultimately as barren as the landscape on which it takes place.

At times the film threatens to become relentlessly bleak, but never fully so, thanks in large part to Plummer’s performance. And cinematographer Magnus Nordenhof Jønck finds beauty in the most desolate places; even flashing police lights set against nightfall are inviting.

At the beginning of the film, you want Hong to work through the scenes faster. By the time it’s done, you’ll wish they lasted longer. That’s a kind of magic, too.

Aida's Secrets starts out as a fairly straightforward documentary about reuniting two long-separated brothers, but directors Alon and Shaul Schwarz don't stop there.

It's Gerwig’s movie, Gerwig’s take on childhood and the patriarchy and feminism and love and death — boy, death — all wrapped in a package that continually surprises. So yeah, it’s not what you think it is. It’s better.

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

What is so impressive is how deeply Abreu makes us feel what Cuca is experiencing.

It is undeniably fun to see such a great movie sliced and diced and put back together in so many ways. Too often when we see a movie we like, we just say it’s good, recommend it to someone and leave it at that.

The Eternal Daughter doesn’t scare you in the traditional sense as much as it moves you, and that’s every bit as powerful an achievement.

Compartment No. 6 takes people and places you might wish to escape on first blush and makes you glad by the end that you’ve spent time with them.

Lucky is one of Harry Dean Stanton’s last roles, a rare leading performance, and it is a treasure.

The best thing is that Nichol doesn’t adopt a luddite stance. He doesn’t try to impart the evils of technology, at least not much. (Some people in the film lean that way.) He’s more inclined to chronicle the joys of a fading delight, one click-clack at a time.

Demon is a powerful film, one that makes us wonder what greater films Wrona might have made.

David Lowery’s film is about as quiet and patient as what is ostensibly a caper movie can be. Yet its engine never idles, in large part because Redford, at 82, remains a movie star, someone to whom we are drawn, even as he is politely robbing a bank with a note, a gun and a smile.

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.

As with "The Central Park Five," you come away from the film impressed by the storytelling but enraged by the facts. It's outrageous that this kind of thing happens, but Berg does an outstanding job of showing us how it does.

It’s not a bad movie, by any means. Just repetitive in its relentless praise.

A compelling film, and an excruciatingly entertaining one.

Kapadia does an outstanding job of getting at what Senna meant to Brazilians and to his sport. The man himself was a tougher nut to crack, but maybe that's best. A little mystery suits a good story, and Senna is definitely that.

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.

A heartfelt, moving and bracingly honest document of a famous man as he fades away.

The film is ultimately an excuse to watch and enjoy Streep, Wiest and Bergen. Sometimes roles for outstanding actors who aren’t in their 20s and 30s anymore wind up being embarrassing misfires (see the cloying “And So It Goes” or “Book Club” for examples or, better yet, don’t see them). That’s not the case here. Let Them All Talk is a low-key success.

It's a movie as warm and fuzzy as a comfortable blanket, and as safe as the milk Edwards prefers to anything stronger. Not as exciting, perhaps, but it gets the job done well enough.

There is a sad sweetness to the whole affair, for lack of a better term. Or maybe it's a sweet sadness. But O'Brien's outlook on life (he thinks his use-by date may be approaching), and Hawkes' portrayal of it, elevates the film beyond what's on the page, making what's on the screen a lot more satisfying.

Clever and current without being cynical, smart without being condescending, funny without being exclusionary to grown-ups or to kids.