Cody Dericks

Alcock’s work as an actress comes across as similar to how her character must feel: all alone in a world working against her.

Ultimately, the success of Stop! That! Train! comes down to one simple question: Is it funny? And the answer is, mostly, yes. With the high ratio of jokes per minute, not all of them are destined to land, and some gags linger too long, slowing down what should be a breakneck pace. But the bits that do work are genuinely hilarious.

Such is the ultimate effect of Disclosure Day, a great film from our greatest director that feels guaranteed to only get better the more people discuss it and mull over its intentions.

Ben’Imana is a stunning, gorgeously assembled film about a people faced with a level of emotional labor that no one should ideally be forced to surmount.

It’s the kind of silly, campy time its intended audience is sure to love, with plenty of moments that evoke joyful applause to accompany the many, many laughs. No matter one’s place in the queer community, and whether or not you’ve set foot in a gym, it’s a guaranteed delight.

Much as its main character tries to untangle seemingly impossible conundrums, viewers of The Samurai and the Prisoner will find themselves leaning in and working hard to discern the film’s intriguing details. It’s not a task for those who look to cinema as an escape, requiring aggressive attention from its audience, as all worthwhile art should.

It’s a brilliant concept for an historical film, but the way Marre tells his relatives’ unheroic story would’ve been better served by a more discerning eye on the film’s runtime.

It’s an honest, melancholy tale that pushes against the typical idea of the saintlike sufferer, instead portraying the central character as a credibly flawed individual. And just as he always does, Ira Sachs rejects stereotypes and expectations to deliver something that feels candidly close to life.

The film seems disinterested in carrying on any discussion itself, even in an obtuse way. Perhaps that’s the idea: that we’re meant to completely project our assessment onto the film rather than follow nonexistent leads from Harari as to his intention. But ultimately, the film is too vacant, too aimless, and worst of all, too dull to inspire much worthwhile discussion.

It’s a mean, nasty neo-giallo, filled with the genre’s standards: gorgeously odd visuals, colorful lighting, disparate performance qualities, questionable morals, and brutal moments of sudden violence. To those who are prepared for it and willing to go hand in hand with Refn on his colorful, nonsensical journey, it’s an adventure to be remembered, like a nightmare that leaves an indelible mark on the psyche.

It’s not an easy watch, intentionally so, but Herry delivers a shockingly buoyant, propulsive film about the perils and pitfalls of addiction.

Sorogoyen’s film meanders, and some of his visual flourishes are more puzzling than profound. Still, the two lead performances and one superb scene later in the film elevate the entire affair.

All of a Sudden is a two-pronged attack on the head and the heart, rewarding viewers for their patience and attention by leaving them emotionally and intellectually affected in a way that will last long after the credits end.

Parallel Tales unspools away from sense and a compelling drive and instead turns out to be a monotonous, limp misfire.

It’s easy to feel left behind by the film’s intentions. But no matter viewers’ specific level of interpretation, what Schoenbrun does with the slasher genre, using it as a springboard to explore ideas that clearly resonate with them, is compellingly intelligent and consistently fascinating.

Koji Fukada’s lovely film offers up unobtrusive but valuable lessons on the importance of accepting one’s reality while not shying away from reaching for what’s desired.

Balagov is a fearless filmmaker, unafraid of showing what many directors would avoid. And while that uncompromising spirit has served him well in the past, here it seems that some self-imposed guidelines would’ve spared him from crafting something so purposelessly unpleasant.

On A String is a gentle film; even its more satirical elements aren’t particularly prickly. That softness, combined with extremely low dramatic energy, unfortunately, means that it’s not always the most enthralling film, and its abrupt ending (and super short runtime) gives it the impression of inconsequentiality.

Ultimately, Pizza Movie’s title not only reveals a major plot point but also captures the film’s overall energy and weight. It’s generally enjoyable while being consumed, but afterward, it may not feel like a fully satisfying or nourishing cinematic meal.

Despite being well shot and slickly constructed, “Faces of Death” doesn’t successfully bring the decidedly not-good but undeniably captivating spirit of the original film into the 21st century.

With a movie like The Serpent’s Skin, the accomplishments of the whole outweigh the nitpicks of its parts. The vibe is so, so right. Anyone looking for an empowering, forward-thinking, and trippy watch will feel right at home slipping into this movie’s, well, skin. It’s quite literally spellbinding.

Although the story only gets more and more unsatisfyingly perplexing as it goes on, the filmmaking tools used to tell it are exceptional.

Bodycam is an efficient little scary movie that has its share of scares, even if they’re nothing that horror fans haven’t seen before.

Amazingly, Coppola’s intimate portrait manages to have mass appeal, thanks to both her entertaining approach and Jacobs’ down-to-earth, relatable personality. It turns out the pair work well together, leading to a film that both label chasers and thrift store fanatics will love.

Yellow Letters is shockingly low-energy, despite the urgency of the situation the characters find themselves in.

Alex Gibney’s documentary stands as a testament to the power of art in any form to push back against both abstract and real forms of oppression.

Wicker is a sweet, gently moving love story at its core that reminds its audience that the most effective and necessary traits for a successful relationship of any kind are simple honesty and respect.

Led by a terrifically tender performance by John Turturro, it’s a classy, enjoyable, lovely film about a man out of time, coming to terms with the fact that the world he occupies is no longer the world he knows.