Candice Frederick

There’s no thrill, no visceral heartbreak, no fist-pumping revelation. This is just a guy telling you about himself, growing up, growing old, and navigating the Stones’ massive celebrity.

None of its core characters, including the female protagonist (played by Florence Pugh, “Fighting With My Family”), make any rational decisions (while being too distant to care about anyway).

Though Toni Morrison: The Pieces that I Am comes from a white storyteller, it distinctly and profoundly reflects the point of view of the subject herself. What we see is a woman who has always been in charge of her own narrative, no matter who wants to share it.

Though there is a comforting nostalgia from seeing the Shaft men stick it to the man while simultaneously holding on to their old-school alpha-male swagger, Junior’s presence adds a much needed reproach — and smartly comedic element — that ultimately doesn’t blame them but instead makes them take a hard look at the error of their ways in the face of justice.

Because Graham fills This One’s for the Ladies with so many different dialogues that don’t always connect, he prevents it from offering concise, sociopolitical insight about race, class, and sexuality. As a result, the film comes off as pedestrian and ultimately has nothing really essential to say.

From the glossiness of the art direction from Cheryl Marion (“The Predator”) to the magnetic chemistry of the cast (which also includes the always reliable Michelle Buteau as Sasha’s assistant) and the mouth-watering cuisine, Always Be My Maybe is a delightful, funny, and wonderfully layered romp that’s smart enough to break traditional rom-com rules.

After Maria is an affective, personal film that humanizes a persistent national tragedy.

The new film is ripe for big laughs with Anne Hathaway and Rebel Wilson as, respectively, the snobby British bombshell with sticky fingers and the rough-around-the-edges though equally cunning con artist, but neither actress is given rich enough material to bring the film’s most interesting ideas to the finish line.

The Intruder rings incredibly hollow.

The film’s constant waltz between moods is aggravating at best. It becomes unclear whether we are even supposed to root for Rudolf, or if it matters that we do.

At its core, Little Woods is a film that is grounded in reality, highlighting a complicated sisterhood and the perseverance of two flawed women facing life-or-death circumstances.

Little is a funny, surprisingly heartfelt film, embedded in traditional themes and amplified by the talented Martin, who reminds us that she and other youth like her aren’t just adorable — they’ve got boss mentalities that cannot and should not be ignored.

The Best of Enemies tries to remind us that simple solutions might exist if we could open our minds, but it undercuts itself by shortchanging its black female lead and ending on a very maudlin note that lacks punch.

Marshall-Green’s directorial debut is an intriguing story centered on a flawed protagonist, and with more polishing in the second half of the film it could have really sailed.

The lead performances are so genuine and the dialogue, with tones ranging from unbridled glee to utter hatred, is so pure that you think at times that you’re watching a documentary. Babylon is a vivid, though flawed, story that offers no clear villains or angels. Instead, it gives you the truth.

As well intentioned as its flurry of feelings and sentimental performances are, “Berlin, I Love You” isn’t given the space or the format to truly sail. It fails to build on political landscape or culture and instead tries to pull on the heartstrings of its audience with half-baked concepts.