Dan Mecca

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

What one will remember from The Falling Star are small things. The way characters get into cars or attempt to fall asleep. The way they pour beer or run from gunfire. For this writer, the small things do not add up to quite enough. Yet when it’s funny, it is really funny.

Glitter & Doom feels like a beautiful, energetic half-measure.

High & Low: John Galliano feels like half a movie––plenty of questions, no answers. It’s the beginning of an intriguing conversation and not much else.

Despite some devoted performances and interesting formal choices, its endgame is rather rote. That the film is quieter and more deliberate in getting there doesn’t make it any less cliche.

Moss and McBaine do well to examine their subject from every angle. And yet, it’s not nearly enough.

Dreamin’ Wild is a kind film about kindness. While comforting in some respects, it lacks a certain amount of punch. Pohlad’s intentions are noble, and the talent of the Emerson brothers is clear enough. One can be happy it exists without fully embracing the film itself.

Ultimately, the mid-point twist begins a bridge too far for this viewer. So much of what is grounding and emotional in the first half falls away as the larger context grows more and more extreme. It all leads to a quite-exhausting third act.

Crowe is searching for something as a filmmaker. His first two features may not work as constructed, but it’s clear the themes and emotions within are important to him. There is ambition at the edges, here’s hoping the third time is the charm.

There is something admirable about the sheer hopelessness of this narrative. It’s not altogether surprising given Schrader’s imprint, but it lacks the nuances of something like First Reformed or The Card Counter.

While Memory does not fully succeed in its goals, it’s yet another reminder of Neeson’s sheer presence––a movie star if ever there were one. Watching him act against Pearce is also a brief delight.

Master is ultimately undone by its overreaching scope.

Though the overall quality of the picture may leave a bit to be desired, this documentary serves as a necessary monument to a legend who never got enough credit.

The fourth-wall breaks grow a bit tiresome and its final scene fails to build on the intensity of what comes just before, but leading turns and the topical setting prove memorable. How much you would like to be reminded of our current state of affairs is, of course, up to each and every viewer.

Despite its shortcomings, Sweet Girl is a fairly enjoyable watch. These are easy people to root for, no matter how complicated their actions get.

There is an honest bleakness to Jarecki’s tale that certainly matches the tragedy of the real-life opioid crisis, though all of it feels surface level. Without a central rooting interest that’s engaging, all of the drama suffers. There’s plenty to admire in Crisis, just not enough to recommend.

There’s a lot to admire here, even it all of it doesn’t work.

Every eye-popping sequence and strongly-performed scene feels too far from the next. Perhaps with a little less, there would be quite a bit more. There’s so much to respect in We Are Little Zombies, just not enough to hold on to.

The difficulty here, as with many a modern war film, is tone. There is an impetus to honor these soldiers while also criticizing the framework that led them into what is essentially a deathtrap in the middle of Afghanistan. Screenwriters Eric Johnson and Paul Tamasy do their damndest to thread the needle, but the results do wear a bit thin.

Colangelo is a strong director of actors, but Borenstein’s script lets her down a bit.

The biting commentary on modern business never really makes an imprint.

The story inside Official Secrets is one worth telling, but perhaps it would be better to read the book.

When Thompson and Kaling are playing off each other, Late Night sings. That so much of it is focused elsewhere feels like a miscalculation.

The subject matter is immediate and engaging. But the structure of this film is languid to the point of aggravation.

The pace picks up quite a bit in the film’s third act, working hard to wrap everything up. It’s extremely rushed and convenient, but by then Blinded By The Light will have either won or lost its viewers.

One can respect what Knight is trying at, while never fully buying into it. Despite the talent and the brazen originality, Serenity‘s reach exceeds its grasp.

Ultimately, the whole is not as great as the sum of some very effective scenes.

This is Meyers-Shyer’s directorial debut and it shows in spots. The pacing ebbs and flows a bit unevenly and plenty of jokes don’t hit as much as the filmmaking would suggest they do. That said, the casting goes a long way, as does the aforementioned production design.