Danny King

The central couple’s unforced benevolence is hard to resist; the bespectacled John, in particular, exhibits remarkable comfort in front of the camera, his frizzy white hair and knowing reaction shots lending him a kind of quizzical charisma throughout.

Kimberly Levin's Runoff deals with an old-as-time moral quandary — how far will you go to protect your family? — but the movie achieves an understated resonance through Levin's emotionally sensitive compositions and her clued-in portrayal of life in a middle-American farming community.

The Homestretch is ultimately a humane accomplishment.

D’Ambrose proves uncannily adept at conjuring zero-budget paranoia through the sheer accumulation of documents.

Legrand demonstrates great skill as a tactician in this closing third, but his overarching framework for Custody — with its considerable reliance on is-he-or-isn’t-he uncertainty — demands that he sacrifice interior perspectives.

Levine and Van Soest (who are both white) deserve credit for eliding or treating obliquely a number of seemingly obvious narrative beats.

Though an accomplished farce, The Overnight is most interesting when confronting its genuine emotional stakes.

The longer exposure to this universe opens up its cruelty and indifference.

Birney and Audley have an impressive visual sense — the smart framing and thrifty, ingenious production design (by Peter Davis) at times suggest a Wes Anderson–directed installment of Between Two Ferns — and also the good sense to lean on Birney’s nuanced physical performance.

A compelling look at the pitfalls of being a grownup, Where We Started will resonate with anyone who's ever clicked with the right person at the wrong time, or who's wondered what it might be like.

It’s little more than a diverting sketch, but its characters justify its ninety minutes, and Killam’s unremitting enthusiasm is occasionally contagious.

It's another modest, functional success from a director who used to work on the margins.

Khan’s orchestration of suspense impresses.

Green's historical diligence proves rewarding... But the movie, shot largely in Milwaukee in 2009, can still be dry.

Befitting a doc about a data-intensive struggle, the movie benefits from a wealth of resources.

A mere hour long, the movie could stand to be more discerning with its material.

Gerster and Schilling are more successful when they allow Niko's behavior to be their main subject.

Fanny has a stagy sensibility, but Auteuil displays flashes of genuine, old-school craft.

Hilditch's approach to this end-of-days scenario can be heavy-handed... But Hilditch gets good mileage out of his cast.

Most of Crown Heights, which is based on an episode of public radio’s This American Life, suffers from structural confusion.

Pálmason can occasionally get bogged down in his ambiguous leanings.... But many moments attest to the high ceiling of Pálmason’s abilities.

If the results are occasionally broad and schematic, the actors (Woodley especially) are anything but, and Araki has an absolute field day adorning his kitschy, 1950s-ish view of suburban Los Angeles with a string of showoffy colors.

Cooper has yet to elevate his sensibility beyond a choked, self-inhibiting intensity.

The majority of American Honey has Arnold working overtime to make her movie seem important or scandalous.

The movie loses its zip as it becomes more dramatic.

Levin at times seems rather too taken with the verbosity of his own dialogue, but here and there, his quips and situations match perfectly with his actors’ sensibilities.

Visually, Kurys offers a mostly conventional, period-handsome widescreen style, which suits her capable actors just fine. The real drawback, though, is the spoon-feeding frame narrative, which takes away from the urgency.