Dan Mecca

American Doctor is hard to watch and it should be. It’s hard to live in a world like this, where things like this happen. Where we let things like this continue to happen.

This is a quiet, sad, lovely little film with wonderful, small character moments.

Harper does good work here, building on a sturdy portrait of these heroes over a 100-minute runtime.

There’s a lot in The Incomer to be admired. Unfortunately, it lasts a bit too long and makes the same joke too many times.

One of the more fascinating elements of the documentary WTO/99, directed by Ian Bell, is that while it visually suggests a relic, the political observations feel as predictive as they are reflexive.

Cutting Through Rocks, like its subject, is resilient. The film is ultimately the sum of small, powerful moments.

The most interesting thing about Gabe Polsky’s new documentary The Man Who Saves the World? is that it is unsure of its intentions.

Perhaps the saddest, most effective thing about Orwell: 2+2=5 is that it all seems so obvious. The evidence, the crimes, the lies––all of it. So many of these despots lack any nuance or fortitude. Raoul Peck remains a steadfast beacon of truth. In this time when fiction is fact, we need as many of him as we can get.

The majority of the film is driven by Riefenstahl’s own voice from various recordings. She often comes across as charming and intelligent. That is, of course, what makes her decades of denials and lies all the more disturbing.

Baumbach is making his Fellini film, and it’s a joy to watch. There are funny, recurring jokes involving cheesecake and a lonely man never being alone. There are heartfelt, regretful scenes that nearly always involve Sandler, this film’s co-MVP with Crudup. And Clooney is doing both sides of what he does best.

Ballad‘s third act is telegraphed within an inch of its life, and what a joy it is to watch it unfold. With Berger at the helm and Farrell as his lead, there is no semblance of subtlety. No chance of nuance. This is an alcohol-soaked opera, a morality tale dripping in bombast.

The film serves as a lovely reminder of why art is important, how watching something can make you feel, make you understand, make you consider.

Cooper makes the very smart decision to tap into the legend of Bruce while keeping things small and grounded. While viewers get some hits, focus remains on character.

This film is often funny and sometimes introspective about this land of screens we find ourselves trapped inside. A bit long in the tooth at times, it is undeniably engaging and reliably weird.

Amy Berg’s It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley is an impressive archival document as well as a celebration of the life of a tortured artist.

Harper’s source material is a hard-boiled tour de force, and while Rowland’s adaptation adjusts and simplifies the novel on which it’s based, it successfully bottles the energy and unleashes it onscreen.

Folktales captures a crucial moment in the lives of these young adults amidst a very particular setting with stark, unblinking honesty.

Fight or Flight‘s enjoyment will rest on where you stand with Hartnett, his character, and his comedy.

This documentary lays the facts at our feet and gives us a glimpse of the brave people trying to keep books in libraries and keep young minds open.

Beecroft has captured that bittersweet, specific feeling of place––she effectively conveys that it’s not about the where, but the who. Tabatha Zimiga is an extraordinary person, and East of Wall is smart to position her as such.

There is an unbridled honesty to André Is an Idiot that is admirable, even if all of it doesn’t really work.

Predators is a clear-eyed analysis of the cultural phenomenon, an earnest attempt at understanding why we enjoy watching these kinds of people get caught (apart from the obvious), and a reckoning with the morality of the whole enterprise.

Sunfish (& Other Stories on Green Lake) captures a bittersweet feeling. That feeling of endings and beginnings, happening at the same time.

Train Dreams is a quiet, resilient work that will most likely age gracefully.

It’s worth a warning for those that watch––some images in 2000 Meters to Andriivka you will not soon forget.

Indeed, the most engaging sections feature Liza, who may be a bit frail but retains her verve.

Sundwall is quite impressive in the lead, with much depending on her in solitary sequences. Not every supporting performer can hold their own next to her, but she’s a gracious screen partner. There is much empathy in every frame here. Dizzia and Cho do superb work, anchoring the emotion and responsibility of the entire picture.

The Line is hard to watch, and the banality of this kind of evil is incredibly off-putting. Horrible things happen while people are laughing. Even while The Line extends its welcome, it’s an undeniably unnerving experience.