Christopher Schobert

Lady Bird is one of the year’s great joys. Greta Gerwig’s debut as a solo writer-director is so wise, so funny, and so remarkably assured that it seems to have flown in out of nowhere.

There’s no doubt that Gangs of Wasseypur is an exhilarating creation, a not-to-be-missed cinematic event, and a work as sprawling, messy, and open-ended as real life.

The film never loses its spirit of harmony, even during its lengthy railroad chase ending. Throughout, it is a marvel of humor, dazzling visuals, and unique characters.

Thornton establishes himself as a director to watch, and with fine performances from Neill, Brown, Gorey-Furber, and, especially, Hamilton Morris, also reveals an ability to make an epic tale feel deeply personal.

Barry Jenkins has created a film both tender and tough, with a time, a place, and a story to lose oneself in. Sublime in its depiction of an emotional connection and subtle in its layers of systematic oppression, Beale Street is a major work from a filmmaker whose gifts are clearly boundless.

Like the main character’s actions, Park’s film is rather undisciplined in its development. Yet it’s downright exhilarating to watch such a skilled director unleash his fury. It’s also deliriously funny.

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

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

This is precision entertainment, a crackling, pulse-pounding heist movie with a sterling cast, a whip-smart script, and undeniable social resonance, calling to mind heavyweight champs like The French Connection and Heat. It never quite matches those cinema milestones, but make no mistake, Widows is a knockout.

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.

Saint Frances is a character-driven effort that tackles big themes in a wonderfully down-to-earth manner. That’s a tricky balancing act, but Thompson and O’Sullivan pull it off.

It is a compelling drama––one based on a true story––and an important one, to be sure. But there are numerous missteps that lessen the impact and slow down the dramatic energy. While this keeps The Best Is Yet to Come from greatness, the film remains a powerful, worthy tale of investigative writing and compassionate reportage.

As It Was is a tremendously entertaining, surprisingly moving film.

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.

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

Ford v Ferrari is an easy film to scoff at; there is nothing new here, and there is no debating that fact. Instead, we have a compelling story told in simple, intelligent fashion. It deserves a spot on the list of great racing dramas, and the list of the year’s most entertaining dramas.

The film is an emotional knockout that will leave even the most stoic viewer on the verge of weeping, but the shifts of the film’s second half are ultimately uplifting. Waves is a tremendous film, one that finishes with an appropriately transcendent final shot.

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.

For audiences wishing to see two actors dig into juicy roles, The Christophers will get the job done. If you’re looking for a deep analysis of originality and artifice, look elsewhere.

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.

What’s most unsettling and provocative about White Riot is how current it feels. Because of this, perhaps White Riot’s greatest achievement is that it takes something that can cause sneers and eye-rolling—committed cultural and political action—and make it feel both necessary and triumphant.

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.

We the Animals is most effective when it breaks free from conventional storytelling and relies on image, sound, emotion, and mood.

In the rare moments when this just becomes a film about a woman who loves country music with every fiber of her being, it separates itself and becomes far more than just another story about a star being born.

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.

Shiva Baby is a blast of energy and from its first moment to its last Seligman finds the right balance. There is genuine suspense, if not horror; the score, by Ariel Marx, could just as easily fit a summer camp slasher flick. But the greatest feeling for the audience––after discomfort––is excitement.

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

Noah Baumbach’s While We’re Young is wise, funny, fiercely intelligent and always involving. It’s not just the director’s most complete film — it’s also his best.