Brad Wheeler

Mother’s Day is a concocted market-driven holiday, and so is this M&M’s-obsessed movie – candy for the sweet-toothed among us.

[An] occasionally cute romantic comedy.

Laudable for its commentary on hedge-fund greed and a government unable to take care of its people, the well-acted film loses points for story conveniences that rob the final scenes of the emotional weight otherwise earned. A promise made is a balance owing, and The Debt fails to pay off.

This quirky dramedy promises little and delivers even less.

The film's brisk pace is a bit wearing once the one-hour mark is passed, but the high energy and intelligence is quite charismatic over all.

Cross’s light-handed (but too long) film doesn’t romanticize or overcomprehend, choosing instead to concentrate on life’s non-choices.

The childish manner in which Glowicki plays impulsive, irresponsible Ronnie makes it hard to develop sympathy or understanding toward the character. It's a problem in an otherwise gentle diversion of a film.

For all its tense entertainment, Fake Blood's production values and acting levels aren't high – getting what you pay for being just another ice-pick-to-the-eye reality faced by indie filmmakers.

Handsome, profoundly austere and vaguely traumatizing, Black Hollow Cage has no fun at all with the time-travel trope. But, then, one man's kitchen knife to the neck is another man's hot tub or Michael J. Fox.

The film’s ruse is a snooze. The only thing jacked here is the hour and a half wasted watching this film.

A combination of state-of-the-art cinematography and old-fashioned documentary storytelling, this gorgeous film is 3D visually, but frustratingly two-dimensional otherwise.

The film is graceful visually and beautifully harrowing; its worry for a planet and hope for humanity is reasoned and well-explained.

Despite the film’s laudatory tone, a portrait of Foster is competently painted by the veteran documentarian Avrich.

As pleasant and sincere as his film is, it’s a touch too timid. We never hear about Lennon writing Yer Blues at camp happy: “Yes, I’m lonely, wanna die.” Saltzman balances his own story with the Beatles scenery successfully, but he left some drama on the table.

With a fine balance of winking absurdity and wry humour – Cohen would tip his fedora to the born-and-raised Montrealer Bissonnette on that score – Death of a Ladies’ Man is a charming study of a man in crisis. It’s serious here and funny there.

The Exchange flips the script – and it’s funny, because it’s true.

If you see Dionne Warwick as the greatest-ever interpreter of the music of lyricist Hal David and composer Burt Bacharach, you wouldn’t be wrong. There’s more to her story, however, as shown by this lively, contextual bio-doc.

The Middle Man is an understated gem.

With his film, Bogosian remembers a springboard venue in the evolution of the uniquely American artforms of jazz and comedy.