Christopher Schobert

Rental Family could have gone deeper, darker, and more boldly into the oddities of the human rental market. But that would be a different film. It seems silly to come down too hard on this good-natured comedy-drama––especially for offering a much more impressive performance than the one that earned Fraser an Oscar.

While Wake Up Dead Man fails to reach the highs of Knives Out and Glass Onion, it nevertheless solidifies Johnson’s reliability to deliver thoughtful thrills.

While Robinson’s full-length feature as star does not reach his show’s highs, it’s still a hysterically funny, pitch-black comedy.

Minahan and Klass struggle to balance the film’s many characters and disparate storylines, but at the same time they’ve created a film populated by people who are wildly compelling.

The result is a smart, emotionally satisfying exploration of people who may no longer have a place in modern Las Vegas.

North of Normal is an affecting drama about the life-altering impact of a youth in the wild. Happily, it embraces subtlety rather than over-the-top histrionics, resulting in a study of teenage wildlife that resonates strongly.

Smith expertly weaves the words of Mothersbaugh and Casale with film clips, old commercials, and, eventually, actual footage of the band’s earliest days to clarify what de-evolution, Devo-style, was all about.

Broomfield has created the definitive documentary on the early days of the Rolling Stones; even more crucially, he has shown both how the Stones became THE STONES and the cost of that success.

Ultimately, The End We Start From is a success because its focus is not on the tropes of post-apocalyptic cinema. Instead it zeroes in on the love between a mother and her child, and that makes all the difference.

In many ways Lee is a perfect festival crowd-pleaser––handsomely made, well-acted, based on a true story, filled with recognizable stars. While it is not a great film, it is undoubtedly a good one, and that’s enough to warrant a recommendation.

Little Richard was everything, and thanks to Lisa Cortés’ film his influence on everyone from Elvis Presley and Jimi Hendrix to Bad Brains and Harry Styles can never again be doubted.

I Get Knocked Down is both entertaining and insightful, and it is hard not to be moved by Bruce’s MO: “I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to just accept things as they are.” He may worry that he is a one-hit wonder. Still, a hit’s a hit, and getting up again more than 20 years later is admirable.

If Regan’s film is not very memorable, it’s also, without question, wholly believable. She captures the complexities of an abbreviated childhood and early parenthood with real insight, and with Georgie has created a delightful protagonist.

O’Connor, who also scripted, adroitly manages the feat of making a 19th-century period piece burst with contemporary feeling.

The warm, witty Fabelmans is Spielberg at his most revealing, and watching him reflect on his past is downright extraordinary.

While Glass Onion is not better than the 2019 outing, it is almost as enjoyable––a noteworthy victory in and of itself.

Spin Me Round never reaches classic status, but works as an enjoyable, sometimes uproarious subversion of rom-com tropes. Pull up a chair, and mangia.

Whether you know the truth going in or not, My Old School is a hugely entertaining charmer.

Pirates is a fine film, and for Peters, Edusah, Elazour, and director Yates, it is undoubtedly a preview of even greater successes to come.

Speak No Evil is riveting and upsetting in equal measure. And I never, ever want to see it again.

Director Jake Scott has crafted both a concert documentary and exploration of the Britpop era and what it meant.

The Good House ultimately gets more right than it does wrong, but just barely.

The Girl and the Spider’s lovely concluding shot visualizes this fading relationship, and stands as the filmmakers’ final statement on the fleeting nature of love in all its forms. It is both bitter and sweet. So is this beautiful film.

The Mad Women’s Ball represents a noteworthy achievement for Laurent—a tremendously compelling, emotionally shattering period piece bearing at least three mighty performances from de Laâge, de Dietrich, and herself.

Running for more than three hours, overflowing with film clips, and populated by truly insightful experts, Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror is a cinematic graduate-level course––in the best sense.

It takes great maturity and confidence to make a film about the emergence of a young woman’s sexuality that also dares to ask complex, provocative questions while understanding there are no simple answers. Suzanne Lindon is such a filmmaker, and her brisk, entertaining debut Spring Blossom is such a film.

A vivid, compelling documentary.

It is impossible to find a great deal to criticize here. Harvey succeeds at making the audience get to know and care about the Dorset players while also building genuine suspense as the West End debut draws near.