Frank Scheck

A touching reminder of music's ability to change the world.

Depicting the struggles of three undocumented Bronx high school students to avoid deportation, From Nowhere resonates with tender compassion for its characters.

The film falters when it ham-fistedly attempts to detour into sensitive drama.

The performances are excellent all around, with Scott mesmerizing as the emotionally volatile Laevsky and the gorgeous Glascott making vividly clear why her character drives all the surrounding men to distraction.

The result, Chronicling a Crisis, is an admittedly harrowing exercise in solipsism that will be of little interest to anyone besides the director's diehard fans and perhaps his therapist.

All Things Must Pass approaches its sad subject with a well-balanced mixture of dispassion and sympathy.

A sensitive and well-observed drama that, while not breaking new ground, marks its director-screenwriter as someone to watch.

An invaluable addition to the rock history cinema archives.

Although there are numerous interviews with various people both directly involved with or peripheral to the action, the most compelling figure on display is a particularly articulate coach who proves all too determined to have his protégé succeed. The fact that he works strictly on commission is certainly no small element of his zeal.

It's Goldstein's performance that truly impresses.

It's undeniably moving at times.

Its subjects are indeed a fascinating and diverse lot.

That so many have to struggle not just with the disease but also the cost of staying alive is a national disgrace that documentaries such as this, however well-intentioned, can only begin to address.

Mixes comedy and melodrama to a typically baroque degree. Like his "Oldboy" and "Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance," the film displays an audacious visual and narrative style, often sacrificing credibility and coherence along the way. But there is no denying its originality.

Ultimately stronger on characterization and atmosphere than narrative. But its portrait of a society torn apart by, among other things, religious fundamentalism, is all too currently resonant.

V. Scott Balcerek's documentary Satan & Adam makes for fascinating viewing. And even as the film captivates, it sparks instant theorizing as to who will play the lead roles in the inevitable Hollywood feel-good dramatization. I'm thinking Ryan Gosling and Samuel L. Jackson.

Sam Raimi’s darkly comic horror-thriller starring Rachel McAdams and Dylan O’Brien boasts an audacious concept that is superbly realized by Raimi’s filmmaking, which milks every bizarre situation for all it’s worth.

Destination Unknown represents a worthy addition to the canon if only for its historical importance.

A moving if too-leisurely paced effort that benefits immeasurably from the superb performance by its 84-year-old star.

Delivering plenty of suspense in its taut 81 minutes, this is the sort of pretension-free film that in earlier days would have been directed by the likes of Edgar J. Ulmer or Joseph H. Lewis. Like those B-movies, Hammer lacks a big-name star. But it more than makes up for it by providing a rare leading-man opportunity for veteran character actor Will Patton, who delivers a superb, riveting turn.

Fortunately, there's Lively, adopting a convincing British accent, who almost, but not quite, manages to infuse the convoluted goings-on with enough gravitas to make them convincing.

Courageous reveals the duo's growing expertise as filmmakers with its skillful blending of moving drama, subtle comedy and several impressive action sequences, including a well-staged foot chase and a harrowing shootout between the cops and bad guys.

All of this material proves fascinating. It's a shame, then, that so much of Intent to Destroy plays like a special feature for the DVD edition of The Promise.

Even when the ambitious film overshoots, you can’t wait to see what happens next.

Definitely hewing to the “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” philosophy regarding big-screen versions of long-running television shows, The Bob’s Burger Movie should well satisfy devotees.

For those not motivated purely by a desire for cinematic bloodlust accompanied by an abrasive musical score that sounds like electronic fingernails on a blackboard, there’s some fun to be had.

Gorgeously photographed and edited, the film has the look and pacing of a thriller, albeit one with near-Shakespearean dramatic dimensions.

The film weaves enough social, political and personal themes into its mix to make it interesting even for those who mainly think of "hockey puck" as a Don Rickles insult.

Despite its undeniably fascinating elements, Prodigal Sons attempts to deal with so many issues at once that it inevitably lacks focus. But there's no denying that it offers a hook that other similarly themed docs could only envy.

On one hand, She Rides Shotgun is a New Mexico-set crime drama that makes Breaking Bad look like family entertainment. On the other hand, it’s an ultimately touching portrait of the growing bond between a criminal father and the young daughter he’s barely gotten a chance to know.

Although The Willow Tree occasionally suffers from a surfeit of portentous symbolism, it is ultimately a powerful portrait of a man who gets what he always wanted.

While the film doesn’t dig deeply enough into the myriad political and social issues it raises, it’s nonetheless warmly entertaining, thanks to Dulaine’s ever genial presence and the irresistible appeal of watching young children overcome their instilled fears and prejudices.

Shlomit Nechama’s screenplay makes the proceedings compelling while mining gentle humor from the foibles of the mostly endearing characters, expertly played by the large ensemble.

A Crooked Somebody is smarter than the usual thriller.

The film is a meditation on its themes, and as such is probably too amorphous for its own good. But Vanquishing nonetheless represents a typically audacious effort from an intriguing filmmaker whose work bears future attention.

While the pictures have a stark power undiminished by the passage of time, it's the photographer's eloquent commentary that provides the film with its most moving moments

Although far from comprehensive, the entertaining cinematic biography should well please the singer's longtime fans, particularly those who have followed him through his career spanning six decades, and possibly make him some new ones.

Jackass Forever is being released only in theaters, providing the opportunity for its fans who find constant hilarity in its sophomoric antics to share their pleasure with like-minded brethren. The rest of us can only shake our heads and wonder about the future of civilization.

The Bleeding Edge is a terrifying eye-opener.

Sergei Bodrov's Mongol relates the story of Genghis Khan's early years in a plodding, uninspired fashion that doesn't bode well for the next two entries in a planned trilogy.

This tale of domestic abuse breaks little new stylistic or psychological ground, but it is a searing, well-acted drama that should strike universal chords.

Adopting a decidedly younger spin toward its teenage heroes, the hugely entertaining and funny film seems destined to reinvigorate the franchise and attract plenty of nostalgic adults as well as young fans.

Consistently engrossing as well as informative, the film delivers a richly humanistic portrait of a complex, indefatigable figure who introduced multiple awestruck generations to the wonders beneath the sea.

The film makes its case methodically and persuasively.

An intriguing, offbeat surprise.

A feel-good tale with undeniably good intentions, this Canadian comedy-drama doesn't really manage to convince on any level.

For an event of such seismic social importance in the modern era, the 1969 Stonewall riots went shockingly undocumented. Almost no archival footage exists, which gives Kate Davis and David Heilbroner's documentary feature Stonewall Uprising the frustrating air of an oral history lesson. But it's a vitally important one nonetheless.

A fascinating examination of a mysterious life and the truly bizarre art that it spawned.

The result is a deeply intimate and revealing family portrait that proves admirable in its objectivity if occasionally frustrating in its sprawling sketchiness.

Chronicling the lives of the same six women survivors after the end of the war, After Auschwitz proves an inspiring testament to the indomitability of the human spirit.

While the original version's four hours might have made for wearisome viewing for Western audiences, Herzog's 94-minute cut feels just right, fully immersing us in this rarified world without lapsing into tedium.

Never really decides whether it wants to concentrate on providing information or sociological analysis, with the result that it fails to fully satisfy on either level.

The film delivers a compelling portrait of the complicated issues involved.

Tai chi devotees will find much to appreciate here, especially the extensive footage of Cheng demonstrating his skills. But the hagiographic approach doesn't delve very deeply, and the repetition of extravagant tributes by talking heads eventually proves monotonous.

Very little about what happens is very interesting, with the contrived situations and artificial-sounding dialogue giving the proceedings the strained feel of a mediocre off-Broadway play with a misjudged air of profundity.

The only frustrating aspect of this cinematic treasure is its brevity.

Combining the influences of Italian neorealism with Dickensian melodrama, Andrei Kravchuk's simultaneously tough-minded and sentimental The Italian is as bracing as it is moving.

The Opera House is a feast for opera lovers and anyone interested in urban planning.

Oh, "Blair Witch," what hath thou wrought? It has taken less than a decade, but the concept of horror films filmed documentary-style has officially become a tiresome cliche.

The fight scenes are extremely well choreographed, filmed and edited, but they’re so relentless in their non-stop pacing that the viewing experience becomes numbing.

While My Country, My Country is hardly an exhaustive depiction of its subject, it provides much in the way of material and perspectives previously unexposed.

Geared very much to younger audiences, it’s fast-paced to the point of freneticism. But it boasts an arresting visual style, its animation heavily indebted to the satirical drawings of Ronald Searle.

Martyn Burke's documentary hauntingly dissects the rise of media mortality in the war zone and the mental disorders that follow.

Lyle Mitchell Corbine Jr.'s feature debut represents indie cinema at its most stark and elemental.

Final Destination Bloodlines gives its audiences exactly what they expect. Namely, a series of ingeniously designed, diabolical Rube Goldberg-style fatalities that are mostly so within the realm of possibility that you’ll find yourself crossing the street very carefully after you leave the theater.

Ultimately, the film, for all its evident verisimilitude, never really demonstrates a compelling reason for being.

The Tale of King Crab strains mightily for a poetic quality that it never quite achieves.

Robin's Wish proves both emotionally harrowing and cathartic.

Their low-key chemistry and obvious affection for each other despite their past issues are still very much on display, delivering a nostalgic kick that you don’t even have to be high to enjoy.

Manages to be reasonably diverting even as it proves inevitably minor in its impact.

The only thing it delivers is unrelenting tedium. Every aspect of the production proves so amateurishly realized that it begins to feel a put-on, although the humor seems to be strictly unintentional.

Running a brisk 75 minutes, this is one of those rare documentaries that feels too short. Some of its stories could have been more fleshed out, greater historical context could have been provided, and its use of such musical selections as Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin'" and Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors" are beyond cliche. But these are small quibbles about a film that should be essential viewing in these times when intolerance is on the rise.

Ironically, the most original aspect of Maximum Impact is its title. Somehow, it has never been used for an action movie before, despite sounding like every one ever made. And after this, it may never be used again.

A music documentary of uncommon richness.

The film strongly argues against the use of elephants for such things as giving rides to tourists and performing in circuses. What gives those arguments their moral force is the animals themselves, demonstrating intelligence, sociability and emotion.

While Ryan’s bountiful charm is as evident as ever, her character unfortunately comes across like an older version of the manic pixie dream girl. And the movie’s heavy-handed magical realist elements counter the slightness of the material to deadly effect.

This is such a uniquely bizarre story that it can't help but exert a certain fascination. But it's hard to avoid the feeling that it would have been better served by a compelling dramatization rather than this too-dry documentary.

Rather than delving deep into its subject, the film loses focus by concentrating on the feelings of Harlan's descendants rather than a deep analysis of the man himself.

Darker in tone but still extremely funny, the film, like so many of its animated brethren, falters when resorting to the frenetic action sequences seemingly designed for tykes’ short attention spans.

Dull, talk-heavy snoozer that most closely resembles something that would show up on the CW network.

Director-screenwriter Hopkins is unsuccessful in navigating the absurd storyline’s jarring tonal shifts, with the result that this kinder, gentler variation on Ms. 45 mainly emerges as off-puttingly bizarre.

Starts out as a potentially interesting psychological thriller before devolving into familiar horror movie tropes.

The Bibi Files paints a damning portrait of its subject’s machinations to stay in power.

The film is notable more for its unusual conceit than as a serious exploration of grief and familial relationships.

Good Boy works well enough on its own terms, managing to sustain sufficient tension throughout the course of its smartly concise 73-minute running time.

Kristina Lindstrom and Kristian Petri’s fascinating, if diffuse, documentary fills in that considerable blank in his public profile while making clear the lingering emotional impact of Andrésen’s brush with fame.

Unfortunately, while the film has some fascinating and compelling arguments, it quickly assumes the tone of an angry diatribe rather than a well-reasoned political discussion.

Postman Pat: The Movie is a mostly charmless and dark affair.

While the races, which go back hundreds of years, last no more than 90 seconds each, Palio packs enough intrigue into its proceedings to practically fuel a miniseries.

This sequel to 2016’s smash hit Oscar-winning animated film proves more than worth the lengthy wait, knocking it out of the park with its dazzling visuals, sophisticated humor and doses of genuine emotion.

Although it sketchily touches on many provocative issues -- the inhumanity of this form of incarceration, the relationship between the artist and subject -- Herman’s House fails to explore them in a fully satisfying manner.

Sky Ladder chronicles his life and career in illuminating fashion, beginning with his troubled childhood.