Gary Goldstein

Anchored by a nicely understated performance by Seann William Scott, Just Before I Go effectively juggles a wealth of genuine, at times profound, emotion with quite a bit of nutty-raunchy humor.

That Hawke so closely aligns his cinematic style, inventive as it is, with the story’s disorderly, scruffily offbeat characters and settings is both a strength and a liability. His kaleidoscopic, at times ghostly, approach proves a valiant if studied effort.

This Is Congo is a vivid and immersive — if not all that neatly structured or focused — documentary about the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Although “Dark” eschews overly graphic depiction of the more horrific physiological aspects of MND and barely touches upon the financial toll the illness clearly takes, this is as real a human story as it gets.

José is hardly the first movie to spotlight a young person navigating their homosexuality in a repressive and perilous environment. Nonetheless, this sophomore feature from Chinese-born director Li Cheng, who co-wrote with George F. Roberson, feels like a singular and essential entry in that subset of LGBTQ coming-of-age films with an international beat.

From the mundane to the eventful, the movie takes a fairly unflinching, yet respectful view of Dina and Scott’s world.

Propelled by lovely, engaging writing and wonderful performances, Stan & Ollie, the story of the bittersweet final bow of legendary duo Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy, should move and delight fans of the beloved performers while enjoyably exposing the less initiated to these comedy giants.

Director Greg "Freddy" Camalier skillfully, unhurriedly unfurls a wealth of classic music-biz tales as told by a who's who of R&B, soul and rock 'n' roll royalty and various other players and purveyors.

Lynch devotees should dig this respectful, offbeat portrait.

[A] lovely, deeply nostalgic tribute.

Thanks to Savage's immersive, often improvisational approach and a compellingly raw, internal turn by Arterton ("Gemma Bovery," "Their Finest") as an everyday woman who seemingly has it all... Tara's claustrophobic world and increasingly checked-out mindset feel undeniably authentic. It's also all a bit grueling to watch.

I have only kind words for The Kind Words, an emotionally rich, beautifully textured family dramedy that touches on a wealth of interpersonal issues with buoyancy, charm and grace. It’s one of the best films so far this year.

The startling spike in anti-Semitism over the last two decades is certainly a vast and vital topic for documentary exploration, but director Laura Fairrie’s Spiral proves a largely underwhelming look at an overwhelming problem.

The film over-relies on blunt messaging, one-note villains (bullies, bosses, administrators, worst mall cop ever) and several stacked-deck situations to align us with David and Po, even if we’re inherently on their side from the start.

Courageous, proves a particularly clunky, tunnel-visioned vehicle whose overbearing, overlong script nearly smothers the movie's quibble-free message.

While the movie's second half feels more consequential - and more impressively action-packed - than its first part, it also loses some of its initial charm and quirk via a protracted, often dizzying descent into a kind of booty-centric game of hot potato.

It’s a masterful effort.

Mayor proves a unique, involving and edifying experience.

Le Guay effectively keeps the pressure on his characters and their loaded situation throughout, using ominous camera angles and anxious music cues to heighten the dread and uncertainty. He receives a fine assist from Renier and Cluzet, who commit to their divergent roles with unnerving intensity. It’s a terrific film.

Graceland is a tense, twisty cinematic artichoke brimming with moral complexity and intriguing shades of gray.

That Kasbe, who also shot and co-edited, so firmly embedded himself in this distant, hardscrabble world results in a wealth of candid, you-are-there moments that highlight the complex intersection between the fraught state of wildlife preservation and the desperate scramble for human survival.

Guitarist-composer Bill Frisell's wall-to-wall, bluesy-jazzy soundtrack beautifully reflects and unifies the visuals while also helping to personalize this distinct endeavor. It's a terrific achievement.

Rise scores as first-rate family filmmaking and a worthy reminder that some dreams can and do come true — big time.

Ultimately, if Miller and Pollard don’t paint a particularly warts-and-all portrait of Ashe, they don’t set him up as some sort of saint either: just a certain man of a certain era with an amazing talent. It’s a fitting tribute.

Sommer, who did fine supporting work on TV’s “Mad Men,” doesn’t prove a distinctive or charismatic enough presence to carry an entire film, especially one as uneven as this.

Although enjoyable, the movie is perhaps best suited to cinéastes already intimate with Bergman's venerated body of work as well as with Ullmann's many acclaimed screen roles.

Director Paolo Virzì, who co-wrote with Francesca Archibugi, keeps the jam-packed film moving apace with a whirlwind of high-wire emotionality, memorable set pieces and vivid location work.

It's predictable, painless, occasionally amusing fluff perked up by a clever visual interplay with the book text and John Cleese's avuncular narration.

The punk and metal music-infused soundtrack belies the film’s largely gentle approach to a series of small, evocative and well-played moments that combine to slowly heal the Lunsfords and prove that you can go home again.

It's no great surprise how things end up for this tossed-under-one-roof bunch. How they get there, however, provides a largely fertile playground for the picture's talented comic ensemble.

The documentary Fiddler’s Journey to the Big Screen is as wondrous, buoyant and heartwarming as the film it celebrates.

Jalali peppers this darkly funny, often absurdist piece with enough socio-political messaging to add heft but not didacticism. It all makes for a singular, well-observed balancing act.

The documentary The Russian Woodpecker is provocative, spooky and just a little nutty.

Director Ozon... infuses the picture with a provocative array of themes, imagery and moods. But it's French film heartthrob Duris' fluid, finely measured, physically deft portrayal of the blossoming David that sets the movie apart.

Although Gruber's personal life and latter accomplishments are mostly addressed via a few closing sentences, "Ahead" remains a fleet and fitting tribute.

Equine fans: Gallop, don’t trot to Ron Davis’ winning documentary Harry & Snowman, which recounts the inspiring story of an underdog show horse, his tenacious trainer and their rise to fame in the late 1950s.

Michell, working off a jaunty script by Richard Bean and Clive Coleman, keeps the action bubbling along with little room to ponder the stranger-than-fiction improbability of the steal, one that, with the plethora of security measures and protocols in place nowadays, feels quaint — though in a fun, nostalgic way.

Bold and unsettling, Eastern Boys is a long, strange trip of a film that touches on myriad social, economic and sexual themes.

The film could have used more social, cultural and geographical context. Still, this is such a moving, evocative and rare assemblage of souls, we’re grateful for its existence.

That Ferrer and Schöner play their roles with such understated grace and charisma goes far to bolster the credibility factor.

That the film is animated, yet feels so thoroughly real, is a testament to its vivid use of rotoscoping as well as a solid script by director Ali Soozandeh, an Iranian expatriate.

It’s easy enough to take this brisk documentary at face value and enjoy it for the well-shot curio that it is. And Oppenheim, just 24, is a talent to watch. Still, this movie shouldn’t preclude — and, who knows, may even inspire — a more definitive documentary about this debatable slice of “heaven.”

Between lots of uneven acting, some embarrassingly bad dialogue ("How do you move forward when your soul is torn apart?!") and too many unconvincing, warmed-over moments, the movie, like its charisma-free characters, is a tough one to embrace.

A vivid, disturbing and rousing picture of specious government intrusion at its worst.

It's exhausting, exhilarating, riveting stuff that fans of high-octane filmmaking should not miss.

[An] absorbing, entertaining and lovingly crafted documentary.

Ultimately, and perhaps most beautifully, the film makes a case, à la the musical “Rent,” about how, in the end, we must measure our life in love. On that score, Eli Timoner left the world a very wealthy man.

What could have been a deep and rousing clarion call on the homeless crisis gets supplanted by surface characterizations and situations, us-against-them broadsides and weak story strands.

The film has several smart twists and surprises up its well-tailored sleeve.

The movie works best when it focuses on the senses and the specific connections between hearing, language (both ASL and oral) and music.

Never Gonna Snow Again, Poland’s submission for the 2021 international film Oscar, is an intriguing, hypnotic, often beautiful but ultimately inconclusive dramedy.

Despite its singular star and bursts of audio-visual vibrancy, the film may prove more ponderous and patience-testing than enlightening or involving for all but the most intrepid viewers.

As brainy, vital and captivating as its eponymous star, the documentary Bill Nye: Science Guy should warm the hearts and minds of science lovers, weather enthusiasts, environmental watchdogs and astronomy buffs, all while inspiring viewers to ask questions and seek answers.

Fortunately, Pajot and Swirsky don't overdo the minutiae (this is a movie even non-gamers can enjoy), offering just enough insight into the creative process to feel enlightening.

Francella and Lanzani are excellent, not only in their charged moments together, but throughout this nervy and provocative picture.

Sadly, there's not an ounce of tension or a single decent scare to be found amid any of this convoluted mayhem.

The movie contains enough warmth, humor and nostalgia to prove an affable if unremarkable snapshot.

The nimble, naturalistic performers are uniformly terrific.

Akhavan's confidently off-kilter approach to basic human interaction makes for an authentically ironic, adorably wistful, smartly observed ride.

A compelling and instructive look at the political practice of gerrymandering. It’s also an infuriating watch on several levels, which is entirely the point of this call-to-action portrait.

There's a late-breaking twist that might seem impressive if it didn't make all the previous mayhem feel so intensely pointless.

The film rarely feels static or stagy. It's a fine and memorable effort.

The result is a cinematic curio in search of a more conclusive theme and emotional payoff.

Sure, there are lapses in logic. But nice messaging, some zippy dance moves and a great use of the classic tune "Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours" end this charming, adult-friendly tale on a high note.

Although the meta-style conceit is fun, it doesn't fully kick in until the film's midpoint. Until then it's a sluggish, fairly dour ride.

Ultimately, more than 800 demonstrators died amid countless displays of bravery and commitment. Uprising is a vital and valuable tribute to these courageous men and women - and to love of country.

A delightful, embracing cultural experience.

It’s the superbly acted interplay between the embattled Alice and Joe that drives this lean, gripping, often profoundly tragic tale.

The estimable James Cromwell splendidly anchors this tender, true-life tale.

Du Welz, despite a strong assist from cinematographer Manuel Dacosse, rarely musters the requisite tension or propulsion to immerse us fully in the story's wickedly wild ride.

At its heart, the film is a kind of mystical fairy tale whose messages of belief, endurance, family and belonging transcend its memorably specific people and setting.

It’s a little dumb (OK, maybe more than a little), but No Good Deed is an otherwise brisk, efficient thriller that won’t punish audiences who drop in.

This is a compelling, often profound film, one that creatively surmounts its inherent limitations and shines a vital and heartfelt light on being transgender.

Tense, smartly crafted and highly resonant, Aliyah is one of the best films so far this year.

Smith is certainly a worthy advocate for the mainstreaming and acceptance of “outcasts” or “others.” Unfortunately, Zevgetis doesn’t dig deeply enough here.

Despite occasional dips in energy that usually coincide with the root-worthy characters’ own flailing moments, 7 Days remains a buoyant and involving jaunt.

[An] amusing, freewheeling documentary.

Fascinating stuff is at play here amid the heady theorizing and arcane references (panspermia, anyone?). But it’s blunted by Herzog’s clipped, Bavarian-tinged narration that’s by turns logy, deadpan and florid. Maybe his trademark voice-overs have simply worked better in the past.

It all adds up to a timely, provocative and absorbing tale of money, power and a search for the truth.

Sensitively written and directed by Damon Cardasis, the movie is punctuated by an affecting string of musical numbers (Cardasis co-wrote the film's song lyrics with composer Nathan Larson) that deepen and enliven this lovely, vital tale.

Lucid interviews with human-rights activists, attorneys, anthropologists, authors and others help frame this multi-faceted portrait.

There are enough curiously deadpan, cringeworthy bits in Laerke Sanderhoff’s loopy script to keep you hooked, even as you search for the point of it all.

Enjoyably dishy documentary.

As one observer here aptly - and non-hyperbolically - sums it up, White is "a founding father of the current state of pop art."

Despite its omissions, the film proves a rich and satisfying meal and should be embraced by Chaplin fans and completists.

Between the gorgeous locations (New Zealand subs for Colorado), a credible emotional core, some effectively droll dialogue and a well-staged finale, Slow West is worth a look.

As Madeleine Sackler's absorbing, often tender documentary The Lottery shows, when it comes to the world of charter education, no seemingly good deed may go unpunished -- or at least undercut.

Enough can’t be said about Liu’s astonishing, naturalistic turn. She’s a physical marvel here, making herself as small and inconspicuous — yet also as quietly resolute — as her complex character requires.

Cailley never truly builds a narrative head of steam, resulting in periods of logy pacing and diffused focus. Still, the strong leads, several amusing moments and a clutch of intriguing character bits sketch what might have been.

A harrowing picture of the casualties of war — and the unchecked madness that may drive those entrusted to defend us.

Somehow, despite that minimalistic approach, we are emotionally swept up in Overgård’s desperate fight to stay alive.

It's no "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial." (What is?) But on its own modest terms, the alien adventure Earth to Echo is a lively and likable knockoff that should divert, if not exactly enthrall, tweens and young teens.

We’ve seen many versions of this kind of story before, but there’s something so spot-on and involving about the film, written and directed by Daniel Schechter — and performed with such a lived-in rhythm by its talented cast — that it proves surprisingly refreshing.

Recently deceased master filmmaker Claude Chabrol's 50th and final feature, Inspector Bellamy, proves a sadly bland footnote to an illustrious and influential career.

Rothe and Shum Jr. have such nice, authentic chemistry that they should put it to good use again. Perhaps there’s a jaunty rom-com out there with their names on it.

Although not exactly even-handed, the movie proves a deft look at a reluctant crusader and how financial sway and political override can so effectively trump the power of the average citizen.

Chiklis is first-rate as Adrian’s tough, deceptively aware Vietnam-vet father, while Madsen’s gentle, luminous portrayal of a deeply adoring mother is heartbreakingly authentic — and utterly award-worthy.

This frank, unruly look at sex, privilege and power unfolds so much like real life that it proves an intriguing and strangely immersive experience.