Gary Goldstein

For all its emotional roller-coastering and wild intrigue, the film's purpose — as well as its title character — feels more symbolic than specific. Still, this well-shot and -designed picture is a mostly compelling, intrepid ride.

It’s a bit of a structural and thematic hodgepodge, and a few key moments feel cursorily handled, but Evan’s Crime remains an effectively scrappy and involving us-against-them drama.

Although it may evoke such films as "Gremlins" and "The Lobster," as well as David Cronenberg's earlier work, writer-director Bobby Miller's oozy, eerie, yet weirdly soulful yarn feels like an original.

Save a bit of narrative padding (karaoke, anyone?), this is a mostly swift and lively ride as the tables turn — and turn again — in some absurdly clever ways.

A chatty and enjoyable but decidedly nondefinitive look at one of the cinema’s most acclaimed, influential auteurs.

[A] brainy, niche, often arcane documentary.

Kagan employs a purposeful, if at times distracting, use of split screen, along with subjective camera and mind’s-eye visuals to capture the story’s visceral and emotional tension. But it’s the fine acting and the film’s plea for sensible gun control that carry the day.

His endless string of demeaning apartment-doorway interactions with a convincing cross-section of hungry customers is darkly funny, even if it never snowballs into the “After Hours”-type obstacle course one might hope.

Minn, who often appears on camera, packs this grimly compelling, if slightly padded film with strong archival TV news footage, plus wrenching testimony from the relatives of several innocent bystanders gunned down around the El Paso-Juarez border.

The film takes liberties with certain truths about Gauguin and his time in the tropics, yet despite — or maybe because of — its concoctions manages to produce a highly compelling central character.

Sporadic dips into melodrama, some on-the-nose dialogue and acting, and an occasionally intrusive score hinder but don’t negate this ambitious film’s power and conviction.

There's something healing about simply watching Free the Mind, Danish filmmaker Phie Ambo's gentle, compassionate documentary.

More specific sense of time and route (a map, anyone?) and a bit of even basic scientific scrutiny would have improved this otherwise compelling and provocative journey.

As a crash course in extreme mountain climbing, the triumph of the human spirit, love of country and family, and those driven, fearless souls who choose to reach above the clouds, “14 Peaks” is a uniquely stirring journey.

Like the prolific Minn’s other disturbing docs, “8 Murders a Day” and “A Nightmare in Las Cruces,” this is a gritty, no frills, at times sensationalistic immersion into grim criminal territory.

If the show’s hilarious first half gives way to a more modestly amusing second part, Noble Ape remains good, clean, relatable fun.

It's Momoa's show and he brings strength, warmth and gravitas to a part that, thanks to an emotionally-grounded script by Thomas Pa'a Sibbett, based on Mike Nilon's story), proves more than just "Conan, the Lumberjack."

A Fierce Green Fire: The Battle for a Living Planet, adapted from the book by Philip Shabecoff, proves a worthy reminder of how much has been done to help heal our planet's ecological woes as well as how much remains to be achieved.

The film, which adeptly touches on then-apartheid South Africa’s thorny intersection of religion, politics and racism, smartly eschews lurking melodrama and easy outs for subtle tension, tender symbolism, stirring musical bits and effective flights of fancy.

Take My Nose … Please! is a lively and enjoyable documentary about comedians, plastic surgery, female self-image, aging in Hollywood, and other facets of facial politics.

Ultimately, Studio 54 proves a nostalgic, sometimes wistful, other times unsettling look back at a singular period of time.

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

The noirishly titled Cold Comes the Night is a tense little thriller that provides juicy roles for its deft lead actors, Alice Eve and Bryan Cranston, as well as some well-played action and several neat twists.

Director Ondi Timoner, who co-wrote with Mikko Alanne (based on a screenplay by Bruce Goodrich), has crafted a stylish, evocative, absorbing snapshot of creative expression, artistic ambition, sexuality and eroticism.

The Rose Maker is a slender but engaging tale about competition, cooperation and creativity.

As the deliberately paced film never gets under the character's skin, it doesn't quite get under ours. Still, it's a physically impressive, visually compelling journey.

The edgy coming-of-age tale Ask Me Anything begins with a snarky, bubble-gum vibe that gives way to something far deeper and meaningful.

The heartland drama Jackie & Ryan may prove too low-key and deliberately paced for less patient viewers, but distinct pleasures are to be had from this compactly shot film's easy rhythms, affecting tone and nicely modulated performances.

"Addicted" proves a strangely sad yet wildly compelling cautionary tale.

[An] accessible, persuasive, often amusing look at how investments in dubious Chinese companies gave way to crisis-level losses for average American stockholders in the wake of the 2008 financial disaster — and beyond — and made some U.S. bankers and lawyers and Chinese executives a bundle.

It's best not to overthink the sci-fi love story Upside Down and just enjoy its dazzling visuals, dream-like inventiveness and lush romanticism.

The death of the typewriter has been greatly exaggerated, at least according to the fun, compact love letter of a documentary The Typewriter (in the 21st Century).

As a perilous dog-and-mouse game ensues, Solet packs his script with tension, dimension and several vivid flashbacks recalling the characters’ seminal encounters with dogs. Cool camerawork too.

Although it’s an often repellant, uneven film that, in the end, doesn’t amount to a whole lot, there’s something thrilling and a bit liberating about the anarchic vibe that permeates this stylized walk on the wild side.

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.

Writers Dan Steadman and Rajeev Sigamoney wisely keep a lid on excessive silliness as they jab at such topics as religious fervor, opportunism and artistic talent — or the lack thereof.

A bit of tightening, largely involving segues abroad to Australia, Japan and Kenya, would have helped the picture’s pacing. But it’s the pride and strength of Boston’s leaders and citizens, as well as the marathon’s devoted contenders and planners that ultimately fuel this affecting portrait.

"Mother" is definitely worth a look as an involving exercise in parental indiscretion, unexamined and over-examined lives, and a nostalgic look at East Coast Jewish culture.

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

Although Pierre’s intentions remain debatable, the story becomes a subtle treatise on solitude, ecology and, it would seem, following your bliss.

Good intentions, deft performances and vivid dollops of period style and sensibility go a long way to patch over the bumps.

Though the dialogue is pretty basic and the narrative dots don't always quite connect, The Human Race, in its own gutsy, grindhouse-movie way, manages style, vision and tension.

Strouse’s deft script and Krasinki’s game direction upend a host of familiar moments in ways that are fresh and unexpected — if sometimes overly broad. The terrific cast doesn’t hurt.

It could have been a bit smarter and a lot shorter, but Blended, the third big-screen pairing for Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore (after "The Wedding Singer" and "50 First Dates"), is a fun, often funny, largely enjoyable romp.

With its gorgeous big-sky vistas, stirring shots of the majestic mustangs and intimate bits between trainers and trainees, Wild Horse proves a warm and memorable ride.

First-time director Girish Malik, who co-wrote with Rakesh Mishra, has crafted a starkly beautiful, at times dazzling, vision that reinforces water as our most valuable — and perhaps most vulnerable — commodity.

Staten Island Summer is a refreshingly old school coming-of-age comedy with just enough raunchiness, stoner humor and otherwise dubious behavior to divert movie audiences weaned on violated pies and superbad high jinks.

The Calling is an absorbing, solidly crafted procedural thriller with a terrific lead turn by Susan Sarandon.

As things turn irrevocably supernatural, the movie's anything-goes quality ends up deepening instead of torpedoing the narrative, as can sometimes happen in horror flicks.

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

Although Quinn may strike some viewers as more annoying narcissist than self-deprecating charmer, he's a vivid creation.

Schwarz and Hunter never dig all that deep — in fact, it all seems pretty tame by today's reality TV standards — but the film remains an evocative, enjoyable ride.

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

It's not all doom and gloom. This crisply shot picture also offers stirring views of these industrious little creatures, their complex habitats and the rich amber goodness they create. Some jaunty animation enlivens things as well.

An amusing soufflé of a comedy that pokes fun at foodies while honoring the art of those who cook for them.

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

A forgettable title and a barely there theatrical release don't do justice to the captivating and nostalgic coming-of-age dramedy That's What I Am.

[A] moving and insightful piece.

This vital, heartfelt portrait lacks the visceral gut-punch needed to fully resonate.

It's hardly essential viewing, but No Escape is a tense, at times riveting action-thriller about innocents abroad. Supersize your popcorn, check your logic at the door and settle in for a pretty good ride.

It's the film's well-wrought themes of friendship, self-esteem and responsibility that give this little adventure its ultimate power.

As broad as the side of a barn but much more amusing.

Love does a fine job evoking the social and cultural vibe of the Big Easy and its environs. He also enjoyably uses documentary-style testimonials from Melvin's devoted friends and supporters, inspired editing and a slew of nifty visual effects.

Directors Sheena M. Joyce and Don Argott could have easily ditched the stagy narrative bits (and behind-the scenes chats with the actors) and relied entirely on the vast amount of fascinating, well-assembled archival footage that, along with recent interviews with the late DeLorean’s children, co-workers, lawyer and other observers, nimbly recount the renegade’s complex, tabloid-ready adult life.

The doc, shot from 2019 to 2021, is more successful when it reminds us of the dazzling scope of the Voyager mission, especially in its early days when it fed the public’s appetite for real-life outer space adventure in the biggest way since the 1969 moon landing.

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

It stands well on its own as a jumpy spookfest.

An involving, stacked deck of a story plus strong acting and a mix of vital themes combine to make The Citizen a solid drama about immigration, nationalism and survival in an often unforgiving world.

It’s a one-day-at-a-time kind of portrait that’s dispiriting, unsettling and undeniably authentic.

More epic than it needs to be and less profound than it should be, Jolene remains a watchable excursion into human frailty and foibles.

The oddly sympathetic, low-key and funny Phillips gets deft support from his limber costars, including Sarah Silverman, Jim Jeffries, Mike Judge and Mark Cohen. Amusing songs too.

Love & Taxes is an amusing, endearing trifle.

Lynch devotees should dig this respectful, offbeat portrait.

While the story's conceit brims with metaphor and symbolism, it rarely comes off as didactic or heavy-handed. Instead, it's smart and provocative. The movie's late-breaking twist also feels about right.

Proves a fast-paced and enjoyable if violent diversion that revels in its quirky characters, committed performances and involving twists.

This engaging, funny and frank new film also proves something of a cop-out, especially given the bullet train of a narrative concocted by writer-director Patrick Brice.

Unfortunately, the film often feels somewhat random and disorganized, with Newnham and Grainger-Monsen never zeroing in on a cohesive narrative structure. Still, the movie's engaging subjects (including several parents) and valuable themes largely carry the day.

Aided by its deft performances, the film manages its tricky emotional territory with aplomb, rarely dipping into sentimentality or easy conciliations.

This is a compelling and inspiring portrait of a singular life journey.

he film, a largely point-and-shoot affair, is an enjoyable, lightly satirical glimpse at the uneasy intersection of marriage, showbiz and life in Los Angeles.

An involving primer on the realities of homegrown versus global industrialization.

The feature's visual simplicity ends up countering the play's more florid, flamboyant elements, keeping the lean but intense story more centered and accessible.

Pacino bites off an awful lot here, yet, as our puckish, ebullient and, later, prickly guide on this kaleidoscopic journey, he manages to present an intriguing and passionate view of artistic risk and reward.

A vivid reminder of the hand-in-glove importance of right actor/right role — and the indispensability of those casting mavens who helped make movie history. Good stuff.

While this tenure-challenged Middle Eastern studies professor is hardly pleasant cinematic company, it's tough to look away.

Kudos to the Stedelijk for opening itself up to such firsthand scrutiny and to Vos for spotlighting such a vastly relevant topic in a way that’s both insightful and entertaining.

Director Dexter Fletcher ("Sunshine on Leith") keeps things enjoyably hurtling forward, even when the otherwise engaging script by Sean Macaulay and Simon Kelton overworks a cliché, shorthands certain practical and financial matters, or proves a bit one-note.

As a candid and involving socio-sexual time capsule of postwar to pre-AIDS Hollywood and how one free-thinking pioneer made a secret society of legendary artists and performers undeniably happy, “Scotty” definitely succeeds.

There's lots of throwback fun to be had from Kill Me, Deadly, a lovingly mounted and performed film noir spoof that evokes "The Big Sleep" by way of "The Naked Gun" and "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid."

[An] enjoyable, relatable documentary.

Though Hollidaysburg may not break tons of new ground, it's smart, warm and authentic — one of the better youth comedies of the last few years.

Margaret Whitton strikes a pleasing balance between amusing and sensitive, largely eluding the potentially precious minefields in their way.

Enjoyably dishy documentary.

It’s an absorbing, affecting, well-performed look at several years in the life of Sara Góralnik.

Mayor proves a unique, involving and edifying experience.

A few plot contrivances aside, Padman is a well-told and performed film that compellingly fills its lengthy running time with hope, resolve and exuberance.

Director Jason James, working off a darkly amusing, often lovely script by Jason Filiatrault, effectively juggles the film's disparate, tone-shifting parts and bits of magic realism while coaxing memorable performances from Middleditch, Weixler and Bang.

Though it's no surprise that Rowlands shines on both the comedic and dramatic fronts, the versatile Jackson is often equally impressive.