Christian Gallichio

Unfortunately, as its title implies, Meat the Future is more glorified advertisement than deep-dive into the clean-meat movement.

Return to Space is a bit too neatly packaged and overly idealistic about what SpaceX might mean for space travel. By turning their focus up to the stars, the filmmakers, unfortunately, ignore the myriad issues that private space travel creates on earth.

“Until the Wheels Fall Off” may not, no pun intended, reinvent the wheel of sports documentaries. But it’s a compelling dive into skateboarding culture from 1980 onwards and helps to illustrate just how important Hawk was to legitimize the sport.

Even with the notable gaps in Dalla’s story and slight storytelling, For Lucio works as a professional, if not precisely personal, introduction to the renowned musician, showcasing how his songs reflected a country that was grappling with class struggles and an identity crisis during the 1970s.

Not only does Ostroy contextualize her life outside of filmmaking, but he also centralizes Shelly’s steady and progressive growth from actress-for-hire to independent filmmaking force, noting how creative autonomy allowed her to develop her own projects but also slowed down the development time in-between movies as she scraped together financing.

Not all choices that Williams and Jones make pay off—including a late-act decision to explicitly spell out the reasons Cadi is seeking revenge—but The Feast is a compelling addition to the burgeoning genre of eco-horror, one of the more gruesome, nasty films in recent memory.

Marionette is a bit less than the sum of its individual parts. Still, for the first half of its runtime, the film is sufficiently compelling.

If the film splits its time a bit too loosely and unevenly between ICP biography, anthropological study of Juggalo culture, and trial recitation, all three of these subplots are nothing less than fascinating.

Menoh works to claim her own narrative against the forces that would seek to define and codify her own artistry. But, in doing so, we never get a sense of who Menoh is as an artist. Who is Lunn*na Menoh? An artist, provocateur, and, also, a film too in love with its own schematic design.

Somber, depressing, and ultimately a must-watch, “Four Hours” moves through that fateful day with precise clarity – toggling between the lawmakers and those within the mob as the situation grew increasingly dire.

Peete and Yapkowitz have created a tender portrait of the underappreciated singer, humanizing her experience within the recording industry and showcasing a one-of-a-kind musician who is only just beginning to get the recognition she deserved.

Hodge treats him as an entertaining anomaly, diagnosable in his cruel behavior, and someone you cannot look away from.

The Longs’ debut film may be Frankensteined together from disparate genres. Still, it also is an occasionally delightful, sometimes funny, but also just often dull comedy that, ultimately, wastes a game cast on underdeveloped material.

While riffing off almost every film about androids that came before it — “A.I.,” “Ex Machina,” etc. — Baird’s film fails to add anything new to the sub-genre, creating a derivative pastiche of better works that often looks visually compelling but collapses under an underwritten script.

Mosquito State may fall short in synthesizing its odd fusion of body-horror and cautionary Wall Street tale, but it’s nevertheless a memorably gross film that shows Rymsza should make work more often.

Water’s film is merely bland, a boring hodgepodge of Gen-Z references and a workmanlike script that never seems to understand what it’s trying to say.

Featuring pointedly jagged performances from James McAvoy and Sharon Horgan, the only characters in film besides their son Arthur (Samuel Logan), who moves around the film, and frame’s, periphery, Together is an occasionally slight, but nevertheless riveting showcase for the actors and Kelly’s decidedly unsentimental script.

America: The Motion Picture only works in fits and starts, more a series of discrete parodies than coherent film. While some of these moments are amusing, and occasionally laugh out loud funny, most are only mildly entertaining.

The Ice Road is a serviceable, if incredibly convoluted, addition to a recent run of bland action movies that ask the actor to do the bare minimum— scowling as things explode around him.

Brighton 4th might be slower and lack the dramatic stakes of other films that dive into this type of criminal activity, it’s still a compelling and somewhat tangential portrait of the Eastern European community that exists in Brighton and features a great performance by Tediashvili, in his first film role.

Sealey’s film may not add up to a fully realized and coherent film, she has nevertheless made an engrossing feature that recontextualizes Bundy not as the alluring psychopath, but as a profoundly desperate figure, who craves attention.

While occasionally dipping into adulation, especially when Fine gently probes Wilson to speak about some aspect of his life, the film is an excellent primer for deeper dives into Wilson’s life and a lighthearted hang with a musical legend.

While 7 Days occasionally goes too broad in juxtaposing Ravi and Rita, sometimes pitting them as ideological binaries instead of fully realized characters capable of vacillating in ideas, the film more often than not allows them to develop and shift as they get to know each other.

It doesn’t always work as a coherent whole, but The Amusement Park is still a fascinating experiment from a director at the height of his creative skills.

Those Who Wish Me Dead is a violent, enjoyable action film that doesn’t aspire to preach. Instead, the film foregrounds Angelina Jolie reclaiming her title as a preeminent action star, moving at such an energetic speed that by the time you start to think about the sheer insanity of the plot, the credits are already rolling.

Red Moon Tide is obviously the work of a director willing to push the boundaries of visual narrative, but he doesn’t see that work fully through.

If “Planet B” is less than a sum of its parts, ending before the Webb is launched, and lacking overall closure, it’s still a wonderfully observational portrait of exploration.

The Russos are obviously ambitious in their treatment, cramming what amounts to half-a-dozen features into this nearly 2.5-hour film. Overt stylization does not stifle a compassionate performance by Holland and breakthrough from Bravo, but Cherry is seemingly at war with itself, never able to synthesize form and content in a meaningful way.