Dan Mecca

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.

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

The cancer-diagnosis plot device is certainly well-worn and can often be viciously maudlin, but Haley does well in utilizing it as a means to work on something a bit more nuanced.

It often feels like a Barbara Hammer film itself while evolving into a sharp, clever montage that moves fast and entertains throughout. It’s funny and disarming and, ultimately, quietly uplifting.

Do not let the brief runtime or spartan setting dissuade you. This is nuanced drama, well-felt and well-told.

There is life and death in every single frame of City of Ghosts, not to be easily forgotten.

Kranz succeeds in finding understanding in the unthinkable.

Johnston and company are aware that introducing a hero means more than showing off his suit and gadgets or building up the universe he will eventually encapsulate. Before any of that, we must care about who he/she is.

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.

Simultaneously, Cyrano feels like something new and something old. The best of both worlds.

Miller’s New York, full of academics who still have the capacity to act like children, isn’t exactly new, but plenty fascinating.

Bittersweet, touching and always funny, The Farewell is lived-in from top to toe.

Any pain is endured and ultimately enjoyed (save the insane gags Knoxville pulls), allowing audiences a guilt-free good time at the movies. It may not be smart, but the feeling of joy sure as hell ain’t stupid.

Aesthetically and dramatically, Tantura is a fairly straightforward piece of work, and this is appreciated. We are being presented with the facts as the filmmakers see them. Schwarz and his collaborators acknowledge Katz and the complications of his word, while also letting us hear the admissions from the soldiers themselves.

A Still Small Voice captures good people doing their best to navigate constant crisis. The struggle will linger with you for some time.

An essential watch for cinephiles and beyond, let Be Natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blaché be the first step in your discovery of a talented artist that had as much to do with the innovation of cinema as those already firmly established in the canon of the craft.

Together, writer/director Joseph Cedar and lead actor Richard Gere craft a singularly memorable character in Norman Oppenheimer.

Starring an against-type and utterly fascinating Michelle Pfeiffer as the titular Kyra, the film narrows in on the tragedy of getting old in America.

There are few things better than when a good idea blossoms into a great movie. It’s What’s Inside, written and directed by Greg Jardin, achieves this rare feat.

The prison drama is a well-worn sub-genre, ripe with predictive beats and expected narrative turns. Those behind this picture are determined to subvert those expectations, and the attempt–though not fully realized–is much appreciated.

There is a clarity to every performance from start to finish, from Roberts all the way down. Yes, the thriller elements that are introduced never fully connect with the tone of the overall experience, but it’s a minuscule criticism.

As the survivors of these schools grow older and pass on, this film should remind future generations on whose hands the blood rests. More must be done, but it’s a start.

Huda’s Salon recalls Hollywood mysteries from the 1940s in both its brisk pace and disarmingly simple style, resulting in a sparse, intelligent thriller.

What starts as a documentary about film reels discovered near the Mid-Atlantic Ridge becomes a chronicle of the Soviet Union through the lens of a popular actor’s successes and failures.

Wright the filmmaker wrings out one of Wright the actor’s career-best performances.

Choe shows a deft hand in her brevity and economy of action. So little happens yet it matters so much.

One sincerely hopes that this is the first of many collaborations between Viswanathan and Baig. Rarely do those behind the camera feel as sync with those in front of the camera as what is conveyed in Hala.

In so many ways, A Haunting in Venice feels like some sort of culmination.

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

Fast and furious in its information and interviews, this documentary is engaging from minute one, rarely letting the viewer off the hook.

Connolly continues to grow as a filmmaker, as evidenced in his last three pictures (The Dry, Blueback, and Force of Nature: The Dry 2), all starring Bana. While The Dry may hold greater dramatic weight, Force of Nature is a more complicated affair. More red herrings, more technical proficiency.

That Culkin has both the charm and bite to carry it is superb, and there’s a bravery to the open-endedness Eisenberg permits. It’s clearly a personal endeavor and clear point of growth as a filmmaker.

32 Sounds is a meditation on life through sound. And though that sentence reads a bit lofty, it’s incredibly true. So often do we account for the images that shape who we are. All the while, the audio is right there, doing the same if not more.

The film loses form a bit as it lumbers towards its final moments, but the juice is worth the squeeze. All involved here are determined to find the laughter in the pain of dealing with other people. And if there must be blood, so be it.

At first glance, Ric Roman Waugh’s Greenland appears to be a spiritual sequel to Geostorm. Also starring Gerard Butler, that 2017 film is a silly, diverting disaster-action epic. Greenland is decidedly more nuanced, cerebral, and, frankly, memorable.

Formally, Living is unimpeachable. . . . That said, Living begins and ends with Nighy.

All in all, it’s bracingly effective and not altogether dire.

Every grunt, groan, and eye-roll feels genuine and relatable.

Who You Think I Am works as both an actor’s showcase and a thriller with some meat on its bones.

It feels like there could be a second film just as compelling thanks to Lady Bird’s essential observations.

Promising Young Woman is always entertaining and it will linger for a long, long time.

Velvet Buzzsaw may not be visionary, but it’s a ton of fun.

McGehee and Siegel are at the top of their game, building to an emotional and memorable climax. Nothing is too shocking, but nothing happens exactly as expected either. One could look at the premise of this film and convince themselves they’ve seen it before. They’d be wrong.

Mostly funny and sometimes heart-wrenching, Showwalter, Nanjiani, and Gordon collaborate comfortably, finding laughs in the more dire moments.

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.

Set It Up, from its title on down, is a fresh mixture of a reliable formula.

This film is blunt and direct to degrees that may disengage some viewers.

Throughout Wonder Woman there is an earnestness in tone that plays well, and rarely as saccharine.

Even seven years after his passing, that formidable presence and iconic voice envelop every frame.

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

The tone throughout Confess, Fletch is refreshingly casual and the dialogue is usually clever. The silliest bits are some of the accents and a twisty plot. Hamm anchors all of it, as funny as he’s teased at being for the last decade or so in supporting roles.

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.

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.

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.

Ultimately, it’s the archived, audio recordings of Ailey that give the documentary its soul.

Schwarz is determined to give us the full view of this issue, and it’s much appreciated.

Hello, Bookstore is ultimately a profile of a man as much as it is a document of a place; Zax knows that the man is the place. And vice versa. What a thrill to root for an everyday hero.

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

That Porcelain War emerges as a taut, effective war documentary that also features compelling animated sequences within the beautiful artwork of its lead subjects makes it a stand-out piece of filmmaking. Its existence proves its own point: even in war, there must be life. Art sustains us and helps us survive.

Blood Father, directed by Jean-François Richet (Mesrine, Assault on Precinct 13), works remarkably well as a grindhouse throwback, sporting a screenplay (from Peter Craig and Andrea Berloff, based on Craig’s novel) that’s better than it has any right to be.

Minyan is at its best when it is observing its characters. Often the narrative turns feel a bit abrupt, even forced. The slower bits work the best.

Ultimately, it is hard to ignore a hard-edged genre piece showcasing three great performers.

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

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.

This is a film worth discovering, ideally after immersing yourself in the underrated novel.

Where’s My Roy Cohn? is a worthy documentary, though it’s hard not to want more.

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

There’s more than a few moments where saccharine is the easy option. And while some will say the film is perhaps too understated, it meets its star at the right level. A little goes a long way here.

Frankly, this is content that makes one feel a bit better about the future. All the poems may not connect, all of the performances may not stick, and the ending may play a bit more maudlin than intended, but the energy on display and the goodness therein should be enough to melt the coldest of hearts.

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.

Offering plenty left to discuss and ponder by the film’s end, this is a haunted house thriller with a good deal on its mind.

This is spare-but-effective filmmaking.

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.

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.

At its least, this film is a moderately engaging submarine thriller. At its most, this film serves as a pertinent reminder of the dangers of a government embroiled in bullshit, misguidedly confident in its own presumed greatness.

Frankly, one wishes The Glorias was a bit more radical in its presentation. As it stands, the film gets the job done.

A film like Most Wanted is a welcome one, featuring a well-told version of this all-too-common real-world narrative.

The messy creativity on display is something to admire.

In many respects, The Boy Who Harnessed The Wind feels like a showcase of immense talent, both in front of and behind the camera. If stories like this can continue to be told with the confidence of fresh filmmaking voices like Chiwetel Ejiofor, we will all be better for it.

We’ve gotten plenty of sports films over the years, but precious few that wade into the deep, dark machinery that fuel the underdog stories and inspirational tales we love to love.

One hopes this is a smaller film that benefits from this moment. Many are staying in and staying safe, looking for art that will comfort them like a warm blanket. Look no further than The High Note.

There’s a running joke that Chris Morgan will take this franchise to space since it’s all gotten so out of hand. Honestly, if he were to take these characters there, he’d figure a way to keep us engaged and involved.

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

Kramer and Riseborough are clearly on the same wavelength, both understanding that though the representation in Please, Baby, Please is important, it is most vital the film be entertaining. In both respects they find success.

Shithouse, written and directed by the 22-year-old Cooper Raiff, tells a familiar story with a specificity that cannot be ignored.

Merchant Ivory ultimately feels like a a devoted document of a group of artists who lived complicated, interesting lives. And while this film may not fully capture that complexity, there are forty films they made that get to the heart of the matter.

For the most part, The Covenant is about the bond between brothers and sisters in arms, and the need to rely on each other when systems fail their pledges. Third-act qualms aside, Gyllenhaal and Ritchie emerge as a well-meshed Hollywood duo here. One hopes this is the first of a few collaborations.

Things are revealed, loose ends are tied, and Kormákur keeps it all moving at brisk pace given the evolving intrigue. The word “lovely” feels old-fashioned, but it’s appropriate here. This is a lovely film.

This is a short, punchy bit of work. It’s hard to parse the fiction from the non-fiction, which is certainly the point. The people surviving through this war are keeping the cultural candle lit for future generations of Ukrainians. Both legend and fact must live on. Amidst the forlorn images and scorched earth, there is some sort of hope.

This is ultimately a picture that offers no answers. No clean resolutions. No overtly happy endings. This is a strength. Bialik is more interested in the journey to an ending, rather than the ending itself.

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.

While A Sacrifice‘s third act may be a bit too silly for its own good, the pervasive feeling of dread will linger on long after the credits roll.

Too often do we take for granted the miraculousness of the moving image. Stigter’s creative extension and exploration of Kurtz’s film reminds us. What can we glean from three minutes of film shot in 1938? Plenty.

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.

Dewey is the highlight of the picture, offering both humor and pathos throughout while playing off Barrera nicely.

The Revival is effective in its brevity.

As everything comes to a head, it becomes clear that it’s not Andy we’re rooting for––it’s Anna. The city has swallowed Andy whole, but he can still do right by his daughter. For such a small, simple film, this is quite powerful.

While Duplass, of course, adds plenty as the primary source of levity, Brown emerges as the standout. This is an actor who can apparently do anything.