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.

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.

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

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.

Its pandemic setting proves effective, the class commentary engaging, and performances top-notch.

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.

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.

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.

Ezra is a flawed, earnest, often-unflinching look at a family doing their best.

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.

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

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.

The tone is snug and pleasant, the frames unobtrusive and patient. In the third act, Kulcsar’s ultimate ambition reveals itself and its fittingly adventurous for a film wherein adventure is simply a vacation worth taking. If only life were that easy!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Despite its straightforward, perhaps manipulative heart-tugging nature, this film is impossible not to like because of the goodwill of its subject and foundation he created.

Though there may be too much here, plenty of it’s compelling and important. The Outrun is undoubtedly a hard sit, but Ronan serves as a superb vessel through choppy waters.

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.

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

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 classical director, someone who clearly enjoys bringing the past to life. With The Boys in the Boat, he found the right book and the right actors in Turner and Edgerton.

Becoming a parent means living for another life as much as––if not more than––your own. There’s nothing straightforward about it. At times, this film is a bit too straightforward.

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

Mutt isn’t perfect, but it is well-lived. The real-life experiences of the filmmakers bleed through the frames. One wishes for a fuller narrative (the third act peters out a bit) and a peppier pace while also acknowledging the many young people who will discover this coming-of-age narrative and relate to it in a deeply important way.

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.

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.

Both Fiennes siblings are smart to never get in the way of Eliot’s words. By simply putting them in front of us and adding some air underneath, the film becomes a piece all its own, made for now.

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.

Tonally, Moving On plays a bit unorganized. While the results are mixed, these performers make the journey worthwhile.

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.

On-the-nose dialogue and a less-than-effective opening in media res hamper the film a bit. Peren’s script gets in the way of her direction from time to time. The Forger‘s biggest success is its rendering of domestic life amongst wartime.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

It is, above all else, a fascinating window into the personal and creative life of a queer woman constantly rebelling against the restrictive social norms of her time while trying to decipher what kind of person she is herself.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

Brody is great here, his long face and animated eyes doing a lot of work. It’s a quiet performance, an arena where the actor has always excelled. Without doing much, we know Clean: who he is and who he’s trying to be.

Master is ultimately undone by its overreaching scope.

Credit to all involved: here’s a story about real humans and real subjects with real emotional stakes.

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

Despite some narrative and aesthetic reservations, there is an edge and an engagement throughout that make 892 worth a recommendation. Abi Damaris Corbin and John Boyega have done solid work in bringing Brian Brown-Easley’s tragic end to the masses.

While the structure is fairly standard and its overall aesthetic sometimes appears limited by scope, The Laureate is a solid, heady account of a particularly tumultuous time in the life of poet Robert Graves.

The pace is never stagnant and the final moments are pointedly effective. Ultimately, The Real Charlie Chaplin is an imperfect film about an imperfect filmmaker.

Joy Ride is the perfect example of “less is more.” One imagines there could be a three-hour cut of these adventures, but who needs that? This feels like the best bits from the bunch, and Goldthwait is economical in his pacing.

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.

If not necessarily the Craig era’s resounding victory lap some might wish, it’s still an exceptional time in a cinema, begging for the largest screen possible. More importantly, a bold, exciting gesture of good faith in 007’s path forward.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

At under two hours, however, the pulpy entertainment is welcome, including a bevy of twists that recall the recent (and slightly better) Den of Thieves.

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.

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.

Kranz succeeds in finding understanding in the unthinkable.

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

Fatale works well as an updated throwback. It’s a well-made, well-acted neo-noir absent any sort of self-seriousness or superfluous posturing. An hour-and-a-half has rarely moved faster.

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.

There is an intentionality here that is overwhelmingly optimistic while also insisting on acknowledging all of the troubles of our current moment. And while this does not always mix well with some of the slapstick, the alchemy is ultimately fulfilling.

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

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

In the world La Llorona creates, your sins will not only haunt until you make amends–it will haunt those who’ve protected you from those repercussions. Underscored with a foreboding sense of disquiet akin to last year’s Atlantics, the viewing experience is as satisfying as it is provocative.

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

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.

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.

Ultimately, it’s the upbeat energy from Sanders’ direction that keeps the engine going. The Call of the Wild is a welcome adventure for a cold winter’s night.

The messy creativity on display is something to admire.

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

Garner is effective, the camera rarely losing focus of her. This is an actress whose animated features tell an engaging story without needing much help.

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.

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

For the first half of the picture, Bettany’s soft, contemplative performance investigates Frank’s self-hatred with such beauty that the re-introduction of the rest of the family feels like a detriment, despite the talent of the cast.

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

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.

Clarke has been angling at legit leading lady status ever since she got called Khaleesi, to varying degrees of success. Last Christmas feels like the young actress is in full form. Forget the perceived genre limitations, this is a good performance. Her Kate is cutting, manipulative, charming, broken and funny. All at once! She’s fully human, a refreshing departure from some of her recent roles.

Ms. Purple is lived-in drama, expanding off familiar beats with fresh POVs, an authentic setting, and a DIY style that never feels cheap

Nothing is more subjective than comedy and this brand will surely turn many off. No matter. Those behind Greener Grass are clearly unfazed by the weirdness. They wallow in it, unabashedly. If only they kept it up for the whole one-hundred minutes.

The X-factor is Costner. A household name for over thirty years, his vocal presence alone does wonders.

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.

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

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.

This is breezy stuff, a welcome respite in the hot summer months.

There has always been a lack of logic to these movies, but all pretense slips away here.

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.

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.

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.

Brittany Runs a Marathon mostly succeeds, and it’s all thanks to Bell. That Colaizzo is trying to do something more is icing on the cake.

Despite a few key emotional moments, there’s not enough in the performance to fully engage from beginning to end.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

Somewhere in the middle of After The Wedding it becomes clear as day: Michelle Williams is one of a kind. Not that we didn’t know this already. Still, it’s nice to be reminded.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

This is an interesting, frustrating man to focus on, all the way up to his muddled end. That Hawke’s film will introduce a new audience to his music and soulful tenure feels like its own victory.

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.

Though it be the lesser of the two films, it’s a nifty dessert to the full meal that is Wilde Salomé.

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.

The Revival is effective in its brevity.

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

Ultimately, the whole point of the picture comes down to the tune “This Is Me.” The crux of the song, led by the impressive Keala Settle, is to be comfortable in your own skin no matter what the masses may say. It’s hard to fight against this kind of positivity, as delivered by these kind faces and kind songs. The Greatest Showman, despite its flaws, is a winning piece of work.

Something happened here, and the full story of the making of this movie will surely be far more interesting than the movie itself.

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.

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.

Chon has a vision and a voice and a good story to tell, full of social relevance and fiery emotion. Something this energetic and cared for is hard to criticize all that much. It’s a film worth seeking out and telling others about.

The tone is playful, to be sure, but it’s hard to see past the collateral damage. Blame it on the times. Make no mistake, all of this could be forgiven if The Hitman’s Bodyguard had enough laughs. It does not.

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.

Despite a stacked cast and some impressive physical comedy, this film slips into ridiculousness without the laughs to back it up.

From start to finish The Dark Tower, directed by Nikolaj Arcel from the popular book series by Stephen King, feels like something salvaged from something else. The result is a mostly entertaining piece of fantasy pulp that is a victim of trying to do too much and too little at the same time.

There are plenty of characters and there is plenty of New York City in writer/director Dustin Guy Defa‘s Person To Person, but the whole thing meanders all over without ever really settling somewhere that matters.

While it does take on the franchise burden in hefty doses, the film remains a fun, and funny, B-movie throughout.

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

There’s a severe tonal problem this movie never reconciles. It wants to be a self-aware, R-rated comedy and a straightforward action picture. At any moment, it’s one or the other but never both.

At its core, The Wall serves as a well-made, engaging war-time thriller that showcases Liman’s abilities as a top-notch storyteller, no matter the shape or size of the story being told.

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

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

In this digital world that allows for Kong to be as big as a building and believably so, Roberts is smart to pull out all the stops. And if some of the story and character motivation gets left in the dust, so be it.

Goodman moves mostly chronologically and procedurally through it all, using the white nationalist movement as the anchor. It all feels unbelievably relevant in the year 2017. The hate and fear lives on, and continues to burn bright.

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

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.

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

The beats are familiar, recalling many a teen movie past, but the themes resonate for today’s youth and they resonate clearly.

Moors is a filmmaker with immense talent, as demonstrated in his Sundance film Blue Caprice from a few years back, but the beats don’t quite align this time around.

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

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

Strouse wants to explore the complexities of somebody who’s chasing their dreams, mostly blind to the wreckage they might make around them, and Williams finds the layers in the character. But the message remains far more muddled than her performance.

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

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.

There’s a whole lot going on throughout Live by Night. Somewhere in there is a crime film worthy of its intention.

The film, directed by Denis Villeneuve, delves into the moral fiber and traumatic tree rings of war more than most films have or most likely ever will, but without one clear vantage point or emotional anchor.

The first two — The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons — left much to be desired. This one emerges as a marked improvement, though that’s not saying a whole lot.

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.

Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, proves both messy and inspiring.

For every moment that feels overly self-serious, there are two that promise this thing’s some kind of pop-schlock classic.

Taylor’s unremarkable thriller is not one that demands to be seen in theaters, but will undoubtedly be seen and enjoyed in that rainy Sunday afternoon kind of way. There’s some comfort in that.

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

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.

The only bond built is the one between Perry and Dima, two characters who are little more than pawns in the game. It’s exciting enough watching them try to negotiate their situation, but it’d be more intriguing if we knew more about the people making the decisions.

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

Samberg and company are keen observers of pop culture and every facet of its insanity, doing their very best to out-size that which already feels larger than logic. They don’t always succeed, but when they do, it’s more than worth it.

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.

A brutally cynical, largely unfunny film fueled by muddled social commentary.

Like so many too-late sequels, the film — directed by the first film’s action choreographer Yuen Woo-ping — rides on waves of nostalgia and little else.

From start to finish, Christian Ditter‘s How To Be Single struggles to be both a forward-thinking comedy about women dating in the modern world and a reliably generic romantic comedy that will satisfy those looking for cinematic comfort food.

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

Operation Avalanche is a solid piece of entertainment and a formal step up from their first feature. Where it lacks is in authenticity, too often feeling like an in-joke with no punchline.

Despite the creativity on display, the character choices and fatal decisions feel cliched.

Krasinski appears to know exactly the kind of movie he’s making, elevating familiar material to a level that feels real and bittersweet.

Armed with two top-notch leads and a compelling premise, Joshua Marston‘s third feature, Complete Unknown, spends a lot of time hinting at which direction it will go, without going anywhere at all.

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

Where Spy succeeds the most is in the first half. Rudd is top-notch, playing Berg as a tragic sort jailed in his own mind, internally fighting and assimilating to a world that cannot accept him.

This film is often slight but always welcoming. The two leads have a pleasant chemistry that elevates each exchange and build out a meaningful–and meaningfully deep–relationship that’s easy to engage with and root fo

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

Paula Niedert Elliott is given the most to do, and she does plenty with it.

While The Kindergarten Teacher ends at the perfect moment following an extremely strong final ten minutes, it’s ultimately a muddled experience. But then maybe that’s part of the point.

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.

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

There is a quality to these performances and an earnestness to the filmmaking that’s more than enough to recommend.

Despite its brief runtime, the film runs out of steam well before its climax.

There’s a lot to chew on here, and if Burden is ultimately buried by its muddled central character, it’s as much a testament to the filmmaker’s refusal to sugarcoat this story as it is a criticism of the final product.