Dan Mecca

Master is ultimately undone by its overreaching scope.

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.

This is spare-but-effective filmmaking.

Not unlike the man himself, it is both exciting and exhausting to watch all of this come together, and that alone is worth the journey.

Many laughs are earned in observing how much money Seal actually made and how much the government played him for a fool. And like many cautionary tales, some of the comedy hurts. Liman and Cruise know this, and the result is something well-crafted, if woefully familiar.

Carion is unabashed in his love for both the cabbie and his fare. That affection makes it easy for us to love them too.

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

Forbes and Wolodarsky are clearly fascinated by this character and all of his sins, but not those he sinned against.

Ultimately, Cooke and company do a satisfactory job of telling an incredible story.

While most of this authenticity reads as manufactured and a bit focus-grouped, it’s hard not to like this pop star. The phrase “she means well” can band-aid any manner of sins, but here it feels like a true descriptor.

Featuring multiple lead characters, many points of view, and more twists than a Twizzler, this construct may feel convoluted in spots. Yet it is a concise, well-told piece of entertainment that’s smart enough to know being too clever can be a crutch.

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.

Folk Hero & Funny Guy rises above cliché thanks to a sure-handed, thought-out script, and memorable performances.

Ayouch’s aesthetic is natural, the performances he gets from his actors true. It’s no small feat to get kids acting like kids onscreen. The musical breaks and classroom discussions are both engaging and provocative.

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.

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

As written and directed by Matt Ruskin, the tragic story of Colin Warner doesn’t so much come to life on the screen as it is responsibly recalled in Crown Heights, aided by effective performances and some streamlined storytelling.

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.

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.

If nothing else, this movie makes the case for Jason Mantzoukas, comedic leading man. His ability to find the humor in most every moment is a true gift.

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

This film is so unabashedly, so unflinchingly evil that it is extremely impressive and extreme unlikeable.

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

There’s honesty here and a swath of well-written, well-developed female characters, but not enough to justify laughing with a kidnapper.

One of the most interesting things when watching Before The Flood is noting how the tone has changed in reference to climate change in just a decade.

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

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

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.