G. Allen Johnson

Quickly degenerates into a grueling piece of unpleasantness.

It’s a quiet film that almost slips by without notice.

There are some heart-tugging scenes, but overall, this is the cinematic equivalent of a blissful weekend at the spa, a relaxing respite from the stressful news cycles of our times.

Lek gives Love & Bananas humanity, but Bell’s personality and enthusiasm is contagious, inviting us into the film. We root right along with her.

While Pixar doesn’t exactly alter the chemistry here, Hoppers is energetic and fun.

As a woman struggling to define her own narrative, Yeo delivers a layered, heartbreaking performance. But she is ultimately ill-served by both the inertness of the story and Chen’s awkward approach to the material in the final half-hour (no spoilers here).

Eventually, the imperfect Honey Boy — it could have used more from the older Otis; Hedges is almost wasted — achieves a raw, hard-won honesty.

The linchpin is Johnson, who turns in a vulnerable yet confident performance as an always chill woman who might be too willing to make a relationship work, a role she’s mastered since starring in the “Fifty Shades” trilogy.

Durham’s direction is sensitive and assured, and he does a great job mixing his location work with archival footage to create an authentic sense of what San Francisco was like during those times. This is not one of those movies that shoots in the city for two days then absconds to Vancouver for the rest of the shoot. This is a Bay Area movie through and through.

The absorbing rags-to-riches-to-rags story — a must for any classic film fan — is told in The Most Beautiful Boy in the World, directed by Kristina Lindström and Kristian Petri.

Fallen Angels is proof that Wong will try anything, and the result is an eclectic mix of images and disjointed editing, sounds and rhythms that are at times as powerful as any piece of filmmaking likely to be seen all year. It can also, every once in awhile, be tedious and trying.

Pigossi, star of the Brazilian Netflix series “Invisible City,” neatly avoids wallowing in Lourenço’s misery and instead finds a humanity one can root for. It’s a powerfully emotional performance that lifts all boats in this picturesque drama.

Bratton has made a film that isn’t necessarily anti-military — he is no doubt proud of his service — but pro-humanity. In a sense, Ellis is going through his own personal boot camp. Perhaps the film should have been called “The Introspection.”

The brilliance of Dark Waters is that it is able to lay out the case against DuPont without getting too wonky.

Will-o’-the-Wisp, a flight of fancy from Portuguese provocateur João Pedro Rodrigues, has a few ideas, a fun little musical sequence and quite a bit of eye candy. But it seems like a series of tonally different short films mashed together — an art installation rather than a movie.

An exquisite achievement.

Male loneliness and insecurity is a thing and the subject of much discussion in media. For me, though, there’s only so much cringe you can binge.

Ruiz has made the most ambitious adaptation of a Proust work yet.

Calaizzo’s script is sharp, funny and honest, and nicely avoids movie cliches about obesity. Bell’s performance is very good, both physically — the actress herself lost 40 pounds for the role — and emotionally.

Cause for celebration. It's not only a cracking good film, but it is the first by Taiwanese master Hou Hsiao-hsien to gain a national (though limited) release.

A guilty pleasure and one of the best films of the year.

Bong has an original vision and a distinctive style that’s not to be dismissed. He’s our era’s Terry Gilliam, where hope pushes through the tragicomic nihilism.

There’s one big problem about No Ordinary Man: The Billy Tipton Documentary: It’s not really about Billy Tipton. Instead, it’s about how transgender representation is perceived in the media, chiefly between 1989, when Tipton died, and current times.

Demon Slayer is sharply paced, colorful fun.

Ultimately, it is Ronan who transcends the material and almost wills “The Outrun” into something more than the sum of its parts. Her Rona is tempestuous and passionate, and soon discovers that to master herself she must surrender to nature.

Directed by the Oscar-winning Domee Shi (“Turning Red”), Alameda native Madeline Sharafian and Adrian Molina (“Coco”), the visually appealing “Elio” moves confidently and delicately handles themes of isolation, grief, family strife and friendship.

It’s not a cookie cutter superhero film or predictable horror film. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s form without enough content.

At 2 hours, 21 minutes, feels like a slow death by a thousand cuts.

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves feels like Daley and Goldstein, who also co-wrote with Michael Gilio, asked ChatGPT, the artificial intelligence chatbot developed by OpenAI: “Write a Marvel movie except with ‘Dungeons & Dragons’ characters.” Seconds later, this spit out.

The success of Felicia's Journey lies in the work of the steady and here understated Hoskins, who gives one of his best performances, and young Cassidy, who displays a weary maturity even through her deer-in-the-headlights character.

Obviously, sports fans will get the most out of In Search of Greatness. But there are self-help tropes for everyone.

This is an irresistible throwback to not only old-school horror, but old-school television.

Aided by the star magnetism of Yen and Tse, and back in his element on the colorful streets of Hong Kong, Chan goes out with both guns blazing.

Aside from its scintillating title character, Bobi Wine: The People’s President is valuable because it stands as a clarion call against authoritarianism.

There's not a whole lot to Waking Ned Devine, but it may be enough for those who like their quirky comedies from the British Isles - a burgeoning genre now - both atmospheric and gentle.

The intention is there, but the needed emotional maturity isn't.

There are some rumblings about the sea monsters wanting to express their true selves and being accepted by humans even though they are different, yadda yadda, but it’s not very well developed and Luca, like its charming village at low tide, is a shallow dip in the water.

A lean, mean, riveting back-to-nature horror film that flies through its thrilling 99 minutes.

A mini-masterpiece, with lean filmmaking and lots of surprises.

The film’s writer-director is British-born Sabrina Doyle, who is making her feature debut after spending the past decade in Los Angeles making short films. Her touch is nearly perfect: authentic, patient, guiding — giving her actors plenty of space. And they respond.

An engaging, well-written film that is surprisingly gentle in tone and easily paced.

You would think Towne would identify closely with a big young talent who flames out too early. But when Pre turns to Mary and says, "I can endure more pain than anyone I ever met," it seems forced, empty. Towne just doesn't capture his subject.

Twilight’s Kiss is a fragile film of quiet moments and tender feelings, and although it runs out of gas near the end, it takes us on an engaging journey.

It is such a soul-killing exercise in narcissism — and not a very smart thriller, either — that yeah, you can buy into the notion that Tinseltown is a total drag.

When explored by writer-director Mike White’s expert, soulful script, Brad, against all odds, becomes a sympathetic figure, and the film itself achieves a sort of poetry.

One might quibble that Jackman and Thompson aren’t in the film enough, but really, humans are a distraction. The movie rides on its woolly sleuths, so audiences won’t feel fleeced.

Bergman fans will love this film, but the great thing about Searching for Ingmar Bergman is that budding cineastes who are curious about his work will find much value in it as well.

The weird thing about the films David Mamet has directed is that they have about as much emotion as a cyborg in a science fiction movie, yet by the end of the picture it isn't necessary; by then the audience has supplied their own.

Ultimately, “The Breaking Ice” turns inward, to the characters’ emotional landscapes, similarly filled with craggy formations and lush periods of calm.

What we have here is a small, delicate mini-masterpiece, and bright new talent behind the camera.

A fascinating guide to its subject and her work, but the emotional wall Kusama lives behind remains unbroken. She is a loner and a mystery.

Director Sammi Cohen takes an attention-deficit disorder approach to storytelling, in which every feeling and plot twist is punctuated by a current pop song, and any hint of emotion or thoughtfulness is interrupted by a needle drop.

This is a funny and moving crowd-pleaser — a South by Southwest and Sundance selection, it won the audience award at the Napa Valley Film Festival and was an opening night film at S.F. IndieFest — and it goes down easy.

The best part of the film is early on, when Innis Dagg’s story is enlivened by beautiful color 16mm footage she took in the 1950s and ’60s.

Lucky Grandma isn’t a feel-good comedy at all, but has a parched-dry dark comic approach, keeping Grandma Wong at an emotional remove.

The Space Race is an illuminating, absorbing film about an underreported storyline in our astronaut programs.

The landscape against which a mother and her son try to find each other is stunningly realized.

Aided by sumptuous cinematography (Eduard Grau), a haunting score (Alberto Iglesias) and eye-popping production design (Inbal Weinberg) – there’s always a font of interior decorating ideas in an Almodóvar film – Martha’s journey toward the great unknown has everything but a light at the end of the tunnel.

Word of warning: Don’t go to the theater with a full stomach. Some of the images of animal abuse are graphic and hard to watch, although this is rather tame compared with other documentaries on the same subject.

The strength of Fauci is its underlying theme, which is really not about Fauci at all. Hoffman and Tobias jump back and forth in time, from the AIDS to Ebola to the COVID years, and surreptitiously a portrait emerges of the uneasy relationship between the scientific community, the general public and the political establishment.

With Margaret threatening to lose it at any moment, “Resurrection” is #MeToo horror at its cringiest.

A demanding, rewarding (if overlong) and - yes - a personally felt experience.

Escape means a roller-coaster finish, and with this delightful sequence achieved without the aid of computer effects, this “Ant-Man” entry stakes its own corner of the Marvel Universe sandbox as a throwback to ’80s-style childlike adventure.

There is much to think about in Far From the Tree, a worthy and at times tender film.

Happy Together is Wong's most fully realized work. It is a pleasure to watch an interesting mind feel his way, and the result is something more than just a passing fancy.

Even though the film is by the numbers, it offers younger generations who know nothing of Poitier’s life and groundbreaking work a look at this important actor and activist.

Color Out of Space is a trashy, ridiculous science fiction/horror film. It is silly, poorly written and, well, I liked it.

If there’s hope in these films, it’s in a reestablishment of human connection. As father and daughter, Del Toro and Threapleton (daughter of Kate Winslet), establish real chemistry as people willing to change for the better.

Radical follows a predictable formula, and Derbez, a major star in Mexico whose last American projects were the Hulu film “The Valet” and the Apple TV+ series “Acapulco,” lifts the material with his typical vibrant energy.

A movie that has an odd plot, quirky characters and a real edge, but it's not in-your-face, a re-invention of a genre or a smirky independent. It's different because it's flat-out great.

In watching The American Nurse, I saw myself not so much in the nurses but in their patients. It occurs to me the nurses are always there, from our birth to death and in between. That in the current pandemic they would need to beg for personal protective equipment is on us as a society. They are our better angels.

The new version excels because it makes its teenage protagonist deeper and more mature — and its monsters extra frightening.

I Am Greta does show why she is a powerful voice. The key to her appeal is her honesty and her “innocence,” or as some would say, naivete.

Young Hearts is a film that doesn’t traffic in big plot twists or dramatic reveals. It’s a film that treasures fragile thoughts and feelings, rare in a film these days.

Asako’s only appeal seems to be that she’s very pretty. Her depth of character she apparently keeps to herself.

It’s slam-bang action adventure that pretty much answers the question, “What if Christopher Nolan made a James Bond film?”

The drawbacks to Little Voice might sink a lesser movie, but not this one.

McGann, whose 2016 documentary “Revolutions” explored the women’s roller derby scene in Ireland, spins a compelling yarn about two fascinating people, although she doesn’t go much below the surface.

Leonard & Marianne suggests that these were two immensely intelligent and talented people who never found happiness. The total love each person sought over the decades may have been right there all along. Or at least, it was there, in decades past, on Hydra.

This overall good feeling helps smooth over the sometimes shocking lapses in logic.