Frank Scheck

Arriving amidst a tidal wave of overblown and frequently charmless big studio efforts, Sita Sings the Blues is a welcome reminder that when it comes to animation bigger isn't necessarily better.

A fully rounded and complicated portrait of both the man and a company that somehow managed to survive under devastating circumstances.

There is no denying the passion or intelligence of this work, which is meant to be an encouragement to explore the films for ourselves rather than a dry history lesson. On that level, "Viaggio" fully succeeds.

A stylishly made, nail-biting effort that proves consistently engrossing.

Cannily interweaving its personal stories with a vivid depiction of an eco-system on the verge of collapse, Uncertain marks an outstanding feature debut for its documentarians.

He’s more than capable of handling the daunting assignment — he’s De Niro, after all — but the net effect is ultimately so gimmicky that it saps the movie of its intended seriousness. It’s a fatal miscalculation that consigns The Alto Knights, Levinson’s first theatrical film since 2015’s Rock the Kasbah, to being a footnote in the distinguished careers of both its director and star.

Director Beth Harrington packs enough drama, music and history to fuel a miniseries in her thoroughly entertaining and comprehensive account of the Carter and Cash families and their enduring contributions to American music.

Spike Lee's first feature-length documentary is an uncharacteristically restrained effort by this major filmmaker, lacking the intense style and outlandishness of much of his earlier work. But it tells a powerful story simply and movingly and thus serves as an important cinematic document of one of the most heinous crimes of the civil rights era: the 1963 Birmingham, Ala., church bombing that resulted in the deaths of four young children. [11 July 1997]

The filmmakers are clearly hoping that Patterson's name will be enough to attract moviegoers, but this misbegotten effort only serves to further tarnish a cinematic brand already diminished by 2012's Tyler Perry-starrer Alex Cross.

Even with the interesting historical and individual stories, the doc would have benefited from a more expansive focus. It feels limited at times, both in its small number of personal profiles and the sketchiness with which it delivers the necessary context. There's no denying, however, its passion and conviction.

Beautifully captures the distinctive wit of its subject.

The Farthest ultimately proves a welcome and invaluable reminder, in these budget-challenged times, that space exploration is of boundless importance.

The Sisterhood of Night doesn't fully live up to its promise, with its themes never quite coming into focus. But along the way it presents a vivid depiction of teen angst that feels far realer than the usual exploitive Hollywood treatment.

Fateless is both haunting and poetic. It also is visually stunning.

Anderson and Owen Wilson’s concise screenplay deftly avoids sentimentality but somehow manages to be touching anyway. The former’s astute direction displays an excellent knack for visual as well as verbal gags, and Robert Yeoman’s widescreen lensing is unusually beautiful and textured for a comedy.

The unfortunate result is that you wind up thinking how much more you'd prefer to be rereading that contemporary classic than watching this tedious exercise.

For a film so seemingly interested in educating audiences about the evils of sex trafficking that it provides horrific statistics at the conclusion, it has no compunction about including copious doses of female nudity.

Considering the importance of the still active 93-year-old poet’s art and social activism, the film seems slight and discursive, more of an introduction than a definitive portrait.

Dawson City: Frozen Time could have benefited from judicious trimming of its two-hour running time, and there are times when its wandering focus proves irritating. But, at its best, the film represents a captivating time capsule that delivers a poignant paean to a long-gone cinematic era.

Tragically, The Truth vs. Alex Jones doesn’t deliver any closure. What it does provide is a disturbing reminder that the fight against evil will likely be never-ending.

Pungently atmospheric, brilliantly textured and featuring superb performances from every performer in parts big and small.

An eye-opener that handles its themes in a refreshingly nonexploitative manner.

A terrific cinematic essay that will have a very, very long shelf life.

Although reasonably compelling to watch and featuring fine performances from its charismatic and attractive lead performers, it ultimately displays little reason for being other than to serve as a transatlantic cinematic calling card.

While a huge hit in its native country, is neither arty nor truly thrilling enough to greatly impress American audiences.

What distinguishes it are its intelligent, unsentimental screenplay, which only occasionally lapses into emotional manipulation; the assured direction by Yukihiko Tsutsumi; and the superb acting.

Gorgeously photographed by co-director Burke in the beautiful environs of East Sussex, England, this modest but subtly powerful piece of minimalist cinema exerts a haunting spell.

Whatever suspense that might have been generated by the violently gory goings-on is dissipated by the sheer visual incomprehensibility.