Elizabeth Weitzman

A little miracle, Azazel Jacobs' lovely story of a life lost and found tackles big issues -love, maturity, fulfillment - in deceptively modest fashion.

The historically essential document they’ve created here pulses with an immediacy that will leave you simultaneously enlightened and stunned.

Filmmaker and subject also share a disdain for restraint, shouting and jostling to ensure we’ve gotten their point. But while their parallel passions aren’t exactly subtle, they do make their mark.

Long stretches go by without dialogue or discernible action. But there are significant rewards for those willing to accept the movie's deliberate pace.

Is it possible to enjoy the company of the world's most irritating woman? Mike Leigh's surprisingly sunny dramedy makes a pretty good case that, in fact, it is.

With a respectfully committed cast, gorgeous scenery and two sad-eyed leads that will break your heart (the kid and the dog are equally adorable), this is clearly not your typical family film. Which will make it that much more appealing to every member of your family.

Cage, adopting an accent that could best be defined as Just British Enough to Sound Serious, adds some welcome weirdness to this otherwise generic production. He doesn’t fit in at all, but then again, who’d want him to?

Visually arresting and deeply disheartening, James Longley's impressionistic documentary explores the pain of a shattered country by homing in on a few tiny shards.

Andrew Bujalski's considerable gifts begin with his deep appreciation of the miserable, hilarious awkwardness of real life.

Brooks' shallow screenplay feels half-finished, and he never compensates with additional guidance or directorial flair. So all his actors are forced to flail about ineffectually. Apparently, none of them read the script in advance. Because surely then they'd have known to take a pass.

The issue, we come to realize, isn’t that Hite disappeared — it’s that she was erased.

The first feature from Adam Bhala Lough is brashly passionate in its desire to express the power and validity of graffiti art. But it's also preachy and single-minded, populated by a world of sympathetic heroes and hissable villains.

Although Voyages is mapped with anguish and fear, director Emmanuel Finkiel's characters are survivors, and he never lets us forget it.

Kechiche takes his time, allowing us to know the characters as if we live next door. But be warned: for those who come to feel like a member of the family, the unexpected end may seem strikingly unfair.

Despite its definitive title, you won't actually learn much about Alfred Hitchcock from Sacha Gervasi's briskly superficial biopic. But you'll enjoy the experience anyway.

The result is a visual treasure that successfully blends deadpan quirkiness with a wry realism rarely seen in any film, let alone one for children.

One of the sharpest satires in years.

It is to Padilha's enormous credit that he steadfastly kicks aside our own culturally imposed frames of reference, insisting that we see the truth, and the humanity, within this very real story.

While Fay Grim is too uneven to win Hartley many converts, it is laced with enough intelligence and wit to remind longtime fans why they were drawn to his unique vision in the first place.

This mundane romantic comedy is notable for one reason only: its leading couple.

If he has overlooked your favorites, have faith: There’s plenty left in the trunk for that promised encore.

A gorgeous meditation on girlhood

The movie’s most notable asset is the way it resists sketching any of its main characters with a single, easy-to-grasp definition.

The film is best suited for dance buffs excited by an unexpected congregation of artistic pioneers.

Most crime stories are content to simply exist, wallowing in their own base violence. But David Michôd's fierce debut takes the genre apart, finding a reason for the madness that propels it.

All the actors are wonderful, including Sacha Baron Cohen as a villainous Inspector.

As full-length toy advertisements go, you really couldn’t ask for more.

Heartbreaking and hilarious.

Both leading actors are teenagers who’ve never acted before — and they are both phenomenal.

Plenty of films owe a debt to "The Godfather," but it's rare to see inspiration used as successfully as it is here.

Perhaps it's no surprise that Reitman has come out with a lovely Hollywood romance that floats buoyantly along on a sea of sadness.

Those who go looking for tragic relevance in Scott Rosenbaum's debut indie won't find much to grasp onto.

As both writer and director, Jenkins pushes us to rise above judgment by steadfastly refusing to indulge in it herself. Deep empathy suffuses the screen, enveloping every one of the characters.

Ultimately, this is not a film about one specific event but about human nature - most notably, the instincts toward denial and delusion, acceptance and forgiveness. From start to finish, revelations abound.

The result is an often-anguished monologue built on pride, despair and self-defense. Accuracy aside, Tyson does work hard to analyze his own, clearly complex character. So while we only get half the picture, it makes for consistently compelling viewing.

Sensitive and thoughtful coming-of-age story.

Don't misunderstand: the proceedings are pretty silly, and the scares were a lot fresher back in 1979, when we first saw "The Amityville Horror." But Cornwell and his cast take things just seriously enough to keep us at least intermittently on edge.

But don't worry if you miss some details; this is the kind of movie that rewards a second viewing.

If this lovely tribute sends viewers in search of the real thing, that would be a neat trick indeed.

Weisz's meticulously crafted turn is certainly touching, but it lacks the immediacy of, say, Celia Johnson's in 1945's "Brief Encounter."

Unfortunately, while director Steve Boyum is a successful stunt man and off-road biker, his skills do not extend to the relatively passive arena of filmmaking. Somehow, he even makes much of the action static.

The Namesake is suffused with radiant grace, and manages to be old-fashioned yet immediate, epic and intimate.

Alternately funny, sad and outrageous, Sacha Gervasi's terrific documentary feels like the lost sequel to “This Is Spinal Tap” -- and everyone involved seems to know it, except the leads.

As smart as it is side-splittingly silly.

What's most notable about this aggressively cynical project is how much talent it wastes.

Alfredson makes the most of every detail, carefully crafting an atmosphere of haunting alienation. These two lost souls may come together under unusual circumstances, but their connection feels universally human.

Although little Timothy does arrive in unusual circumstances, his story will feel familiar to anyone who's encountered Hollywood's particular brand of calculated sentimentality.

Alex Gibney's forceful documentary starts with a single tragedy: the torture of an Afghani prisoner at Bagram Air Base. By the time it's over, he's broadened his focus into a documentary so damning of the U.S. government, it's hard to believe he even got it made.

Boredom is the very basis of this sequel, at least at the beginning.

Simpson and Yates give a good idea why individuals are drawn to extreme sports.

No one looks at the world quite like Kaurismäki, and his deadpan sentimentality is worth discovery. This is a good place to start.

Conventional, but intensely passionate, war movie.

Travels so deeply into the confusions of female adolescence that you'd never know this deceptively languid British film was directed by a Polish-born man.

Anyone who doubts that a single individual can make a political impact should see Anders Østergaard’s gripping documentary.

So what we're left with is a sort of contact high, drifting gently over to our seats in the back row.

Stokes recorded every story she possibly could, from 1977 to 2012. By then, it had become a lot easier to chronicle both the minutiae and the magnitude of life in the 21st century. But has that been an improvement? Wolf leaves it to his audience to decide, after gently pushing us past any instinctual answers.

While Kim is unable to keep us riveted on her near-silent performance, the script and direction have a gentle sensitivity.

Whether this smart, sexy and unsparing film is a hilarious comedy or a poignant drama is a matter of personal opinion — and experience. But if you've ever felt both baffled and blessed by your own family, this "Marriage" is one event you won't want to miss.

There are a few fight scenes, but they're as unshowy as the rest of this restrained film. If your warrior ideal is Uma Thurman in "Kill Bill," you may not have the patience this gentle story demands of its viewers.

We’re not in Disney’s world. Berger knows his Grimm, and he suffuses his entrancing fairy tale with a moving sense of melancholy.

Silva intends to keep us guessing, and it's fair to say he takes us in unexpected directions. But don't expect any flashy Hollywood twists. The surprises come from Catalina Saavedra's intense lead performance.

None of the children are professionals, and their uncontrived performances lend a painfully real quality to what becomes a rather lyrical story.

The perfect haven from the cheap ironies and cruel indifference we all have to field both in life and, far too often, at the movies.

Ultimately it's Sheen, finding new facets of his character in every scene, who shoots and scores.

It's a tribute to both the subject and his biographer that this story of one man's experience is also a vital chronicle of the times in which he's lived.

Kore-eda does extraordinary work with his young cast, who deliver gentle, natural performances in a beautifully told story of heartbreak and hope. Deceptively modest and utterly lovely, it's one of the most magical films about childhood I have ever seen.

As Claire Denis' stunning new movie reminds us, she expects a lot of her audience but gives considerably more in return.

Everyone involved can claim credit, but it's Dinklage, in an understated, outstanding performance, who turns this unlikely tale into art that will strike a chord with any open-minded audience.

Heated speeches about the International Monetary Fund, debt relief and global responsibility may not sound like your idea of Friday-night entertainment, but Sissako makes a strong case.

There's nothing exceptional about Jane Campion's historical biography, but it's a sufficiently lovely tale to suit romantics with a taste for intimate period dramas.

For a film expressly about an underappreciated culture, there are some boulder-size cliches rolling down these hills.

They’ve turned Thomas Pynchon’s work into a slapstick noir homage that doesn’t just reward but demands multiple viewings.

Ferreras is similarly frank, but heavy doses of humor and empathy, along with gorgeous hand-drawn animation, keep things from getting too morbid.

As escapist fantasies go, this easygoing romance is a modest winner.

Pegg and Wright are armed with an endlessly impressive arsenal of attention grabbers, from witty editing tricks to a wry soundtrack and a joke-packed script that demands multiple viewings.

Pahani’s films have become increasingly indistinguishable from his complex life, making them a challenging but often thrilling experience.

Whether he's the victim of poor directing or misguided ambition, Bass is almost entirely charisma-free.

Broomfield conducts riveting interviews with a former LAPD officer, Biggie's fiercely protective mother and assorted hangers-on, but the actual thrust of his evidence seems almost irrelevant.

It’s a shame that Lessin and Pildes don’t tell us what these amazing women went on to do after the Collective ended. But they all remain, half a century later, passionate and eloquent and thoughtful and fierce.

Goldfine discover so many fascinating themes within their seemingly narrow subject that anyone with the slightest interest in history or human nature will find it absorbing.

Whatever it is you're looking for - comedy, horror, parades of singing frogs and dancing kitchen appliances - you'll find it in Satoshi Kon's anime adventure, a jaw-dropping feat of imagination.

As vital as the best war chronicles to come out in recent years, this is one every American ought to see.

Though it was directed by Burr Steers, Charlie St. Cloud feels more like a misguided collaboration among Nicholas Sparks, M. Night Shyamalan and Billy Graham.

Thematically tough and emotionally rough, Starred Up is the kind of movie you might enter into with some reluctance. But because everyone involved does such an outstanding job, it's also the kind of movie you won't want to see end.

Though Harden has the showier role, a subdued Pantoliano is the movie's real star. Sometimes, the quietest performances are the most powerful.

Despite a brief, unnecessary foray into melodrama -- stands alone as compelling entertainment.

Both politically intricate and genuinely hilarious, Faat-Kine is a story grounded in dichotomies.

Alison Klayman's chronicle of Chinese artist and activist Ai Weiwei is so straightforward that one can't help wishing the subject would make his own, more complex cinematic self-portrait. But for now, Klayman has provided a valuable introduction to a man everyone should know.

While I fully support the appearance of a new Madea movie every six months, even Tyler Perry can't be bothered to take this setup seriously.

Cooper and Lawrence could so easily have stumbled over the logistical bumps and clichés strewn across Russell's defiantly dark script. Instead, they glide right over them, creating an edgy romantic dramedy that suits our anxious times.

Karasawa captures the flinty, ferocious nature of her subject, Elaine Stritch, with just the right amount of clear-eyed respect.

Why are innovative educators met with so much resistance? And why is our system falling so painfully short? Perhaps ­because so many of us don't realize just how dire things ­really are.

Creating a hypnotically digressive travelogue, Herzog wanders from soul to soul, asking deceptively mild questions to potent effect.

Marks and Liberato are a delight, equally appealing on their own and total #FriendshipGoals together. The two are close in real life and the strength of their chemistry is, ultimately, what makes the movie so special.

Both Rourke and Tomei bring a tender, lived-in honesty to their sad roles.

Its straightforward approach is notably lacking the divine inspiration of its subject. But Don McGlynn's gospel documentary delivers so many moments of artistic ecstasy, we can forgive the plain wrapping.

Happily, Morrison's actors grasp his intentions perfectly, shading their roles so well that we never quite get a handle on anyone. Each player is outstanding, but the highest praise must go to Weston.

Strikes a nice balance between smart and sweet.