Gary Goldstein

Smartly, the filmmakers minimize their topic's punchline potential. But even though the running time is short, the movie feels stretched out.

An impressive array of archival news footage, enlightening interviews with activists, politicos, academics and journalists, plus a dispensable Alfred Molina-narrated animated parable, round out this provocative, if at times overly ambitious effort.

A beautifully rendered, lovingly constructed action-comedy that's sure to please kids and adults alike.

In all, writer-director Jennifer M. Kroot effectively jams in quite a lot about the super-busy Takei.

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.

Although it runs just a fleet 40 minutes, the film proves a rich and memorable journey.

The world's most successful ring of diamond thieves is inventively and insightfully explored in the documentary Smash and Grab: The Story of the Pink Panthers.

Marquette, aided by Frank Langella's precise narration, has crafted an engrossing and disturbing tribute.

Producer-director Kenneth A. Carlson (a teammate of Catena's at Brown) absorbingly, unfussily captures Catena's daily challenges and feats while also painting a vivid, often heartbreaking portrait of a forgotten people trapped in an underreported sociopolitical nightmare.

The absorbing romantic drama Cicada feels as real as it gets.

Although the whole thing’s a bit of a jumble, the L.A.-set film becomes more immersive as we slowly adjust to its ambitious conceit and unique rhythms. A solid third-act twist helps square the preceding puzzle pieces and takes us out on a satisfying and moving note.

The Sound of Silence, anchored by a superbly modulated performance by the always intriguing Peter Sarsgaard, is fascinating, original and, yes, deeply resonant.

The film brings us vividly inside the life - and head - of its determined hero, Bud Clayman, as he depicts the process of what he calls "getting normal."

The lovely, heartbreaking Fly Away benefits from superb performances and a gripping story managed with simplicity and grace by writer-producer-director Janet Grillo.

Despite the film’s compact length, it contains a wealth of tense action, complex emotion, deft observations, vital messaging and gorgeous vistas.

There’s much to explore and dissect about the intriguing world that directors Michael Palmieri and Donal Mosher spotlight in their documentary The Gospel of Eureka, but the film, strangely flabby at just 73 minutes, leaves us wanting.

Some testimony here may rankle certain viewers, despite — or because of — Bloch’s attempt at evenhandedness. No matter, it’s a timely and essential portrait.

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

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.

Mills peppers his fresh script with an assortment of throwaway lines, kooky character beats and off-kilter emotional truths. That he packs so much memorable silliness into one 80-minute film is quite the feat. Sequel, please.

Brick Mansions, Paul Walker's penultimate film (prior to "Fast & Furious 7"), is a dumb and ugly action picture that works strictly as a reminder of the late actor's head-turning good looks and modest charisma.

A sweet, funny and thoroughly winning romantic comedy that’s a kind of a bi-curious take on When Harry Met Sally for the Millennial crowd — or anyone else looking for some brainy, banter-rific fun.

There’s much to recommend here — emotionally, sociopolitically, musically — and it’s heartening to see greater openness to LGBTQ+ folks than outsiders might expect; compassion, grace and humor are in abundant supply.

Anchored by Jacobson's touchingly layered turn as a dutiful enabler, this risk-taking piece has an effectively anxious, naturalistic feel (it was inspired by producer Samantha Housman's own experience), with Franco bringing credible charm and desperation to the messed-up Seth.

This handsomely made suspense yarn proves an engrossing, pulse-quickening journey.

That Rabe (daughter of the late Jill Clayburgh and playwright David Rabe) proves so intriguing to watch is more a testament to her acting focus and stirring, lovely presence than to the dreary role she inhabits.

Although affecting and well acted, the family drama Bad Hurt is too airless and depressing to fully engage.

Despite his cogent finger-pointing, nifty graphs and succinct highlighting of recent climate change history, longtime followers of the hyper-partisan topic may not find much terribly new or revealing here.

A unique, unsettling experience.

Even if this largely contained movie remains more low key than frantic, it features enough well-executed bursts of tension and strong emotional beats to hold interest.

The product is more pop vanity project — and one that's a bit late to the party — than onion-peeling dissection.

Director Maurice Dekkers stops far short of shooting “food porn” here, instead deftly capturing the often spare beauty of Redzepi and company’s rarefied concoctions including, yes, ants on a shrimp.

[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.

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.

For all its flaws and missteps (more nose growing antics, please), the movie gets under your skin and holds interest, if only to find out not if, but how Pinocchio will reunite with his devoted Babbo (dad) and what the future might have in store for Geppetto’s lovingly crafted creation.

Unfortunately, there's a lack of structure, context and point of view to the largely gray, grim, hardscrabble world presented here.

A stirring snapshot of America from 1963 to 1968 and the many rock 'n' roll thrills, cultural and political watersheds, and whirling emotions that erupted in between. It's also deviously smart and darkly funny.

Alexander Sokurov's Faust is a grueling side show of a film, a morbid, mightily uninvolving piece.

It's the candid moments of joy and accomplishment -- Welcker finding out she's an Intel contest finalist, Khan learning he's been accepted to Yale, high school valedictorian Cisneros thanking her devoted parents in her graduation speech -- that really make this one soar.

Kazemy and Boosheri are excellent, and Soheil Parsa and Nasrin Pakkho are also fine as Atefeh's doting, liberal parents. And if Keshavarz is less successful managing the film's sometimes choppy narrative, she is clearly willing to take risks on all fronts. More power to her.

Bye Bye Germany is a deeply felt yet unsentimental, often wry look at a group of Jewish friends — all Nazi-era survivors — who, in 1946 Frankfurt, unite to sell high-end linens to raise the funds to emigrate to America. Not your typical Holocaust-inspired drama.

A muddle of tired themes, bad behaviors and gruesome set pieces.

Feature films these days rarely come as gentle and equitable as The Confirmation. It's a sweet, decidedly low-key little picture starring a deftly understated Clive Owen.

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.

The elder Makhmalbaf, who wrote and directed, puts many spins on this ethereal mood piece — it is by turns poetic, impressionistic, metaphorical and even a bit trippy — without satisfying such genre basics as structure, depth and resolution.

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

Writer-director-star David Thorpe attempts to probe the whys and wherefores of what he calls the stereotypical "gay male voice," but he ends up crafting a naval-gazing self-portrait that's unflattering, inconclusive and, at times, a bit specious.

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.

A lovely, charming and gently transporting journey.

It's the flesh-and-blood lead performance by Iranian actress Golshifteh Farahani as a profoundly conflicted Muslim wife and mother that seals this cinematic deal. She's superb.

[A] highly watchable portrait.

Honest and unadorned though the film may be, it's ultimately just not that involving.

Chittenden and Tzu-yi are expressive actors, but, like the film itself, are hamstrung by the project's self-imposed confines.

Punchy dialogue, sharply drawn characters and excellent performances fuel Glass Chin.

Deeper socio-historical context and a more electric approach could have helped us better appreciate the far-flung impact of this visionary artist.

It’s a film of decided care and forethought.

Bwoy (Jamaican patois for boy), which largely plays like a stage-appropriate two-hander, is ultimately a surprising and cathartic, if often unsettling, film anchored by Rapp’s superb portrayal of a tortured soul desperate to connect. Brooks’ deftly enticing turn is also a standout.

It ultimately seems as if there was a more economical, propulsive and entertaining way for a master such as Bellocchio to recount this explosive and pivotal chapter of Mafia history.

This well-constructed film effectively highlights the key points of the Southern-born icon’s singular, often troubled life and proves a vivid, enjoyable portrait of a one-of-a-kind provocateur.

Best appreciated for its sweet eccentricities (beginning with reggae lover Jack's would-be dreadlocks), optimistic outlook and authentic New York vibe, as much as for its commitment to being exactly what it is: an affectionate homage to working-class underdogs trying to carve out their own little corners of happiness.

To its credit, the script, by director Sara Zandieh and Stephanie Wu, works hard at inclusivity. Unfortunately, while a lesbian couple is fun, the gay men feel like a throwback and Alex’s bisexuality, which could have provided an intriguing and credible complication, goes nowhere.

Snapshots nicely shuttles between past and present to tell its affecting, evocative tale of familial and romantic love among several generations of women. But it’s the flashbacks that prove more wholly compelling here, so much so that they could have made for their own standalone film.

Healy and Embry commit to their enervating roles with a heady mix of desperation and gusto, while Koechner is cleverly modulated as the evening's madman emcee. But Paxton, as the complicit yet impassive Violet, remains mostly a shiny accessory.

Modern dance devotees and fans of legendary choreographer Merce Cunningham will find much to appreciate in the lovingly crafted documentary If the Dancer Dances. For others, the film may prove too repetitive and narrowly focused.

A revealing, disturbing look at how political and corporate forces have seemingly undermined the freedom and safety of our nation's equine population.

[It's] too bad Cindy Kleine, the documentary's producer-director-narrator — and Gregory's wife — didn't better organize this rangy survey of the eclectic actor, theater director, artist and raconteur.

A melodramatic third act strains to reconcile the film's disparate parts, and the feel-good ending is not quite earned. Still, the film offers a few lessons for those inclined to hear them.

The cast, including Victoria Carmen Sonne, as the object of both Emil and Johan’s affections, and Lars Mikkelsen, as the quarry boss, is uniformly strong and singular.

Ultimately, this grueling, overlong picture — think a chamber piece but with multiple characters and locations — never zeroes in on what it wants us to think or feel about Willis or John. But if it’s sympathy, it doesn’t get there.

This indulgent, overlong film takes a solid hour for its bigger themes of love, loss and guilt to settle in. By then, however, the movie has tried our patience to the point that many may not care.

It’s watchable and intriguing stuff, yet also silly and inconsistent.

Field amazes with her gameness, range and commitment.

Involving as the film is, it is decidedly short on propulsion and significant conflict.

Specific as Ozon’s approach here may be (nothing feels accidental or arbitrary), his lovingly made curio, which often borrows verbatim from its predecessor, comes off a bit tired and trifling.

With a two-state solution still elusive, "State 194" may feel a bit like yesterday's news — literally and figuratively. But as an aid to better understanding this vital, complex dispute, the film is definitely worth a look.

For a movie about art and artists, it's not a particularly visually inspired or vibrantly crafted work. Still, Foulkes... holds interest with his off-kilter narcissism, obsessive creative process and frank views on his place — or lack thereof — in the art world.

Bram, who also narrates (and writes, with co-director Judah Lazarus and Adam Zucker), may be earnest in his desire for enlightenment. But his approach feels overly self-serving; too much "Me," not enough "Kabbalah."

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.

Koechlin gives such a remarkably warm, expressive performance (she and Gupta are non-disabled) it’s hard not to be captivated by much of this tender, if choppy film.

Salama gently, effectively examines the role religion can play in one’s life and outlook versus how a secular, more free-thinking existence may offer greater latitude but not always better or happier choices.

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

At its best, That Summer proves an effective time capsule aimed squarely at Beale devotees, adding light and context to the saga of this endlessly baffling and singularly captivating mother-daughter duo.

The largely engaging class-reunion dramedy 10 Years allows audiences to pretend they went to high school with the likes of Channing Tatum, Justin Long, Rosario Dawson, Anthony Mackie and Kate Mara.

As for the so-called "food compositions" seen here, like the film itself, they're more impressionistic and artistic than enticing. For a far more satisfying cinematic meal, check out the similarly themed "Jiro Dreams of Sushi."

Although it’s anchored by a deeply felt performance by the wonderful Emily Mortimer, with a marvelous supporting turn by the always-welcome Bill Nighy, the film, scripted and directed by Spanish filmmaker Isabel Coixet (“Elegy,” “Learning to Drive”), is at times a bit too mustily mounted and told to keep us as fully immersed as we might like.

The cast does what it can with — and clearly self-improves upon — the essentially thin, at times choppy material.

Loving Highsmith is a well-intentioned effort; a respectable start. But perhaps a more definitive and dimensional documentary — or even narrative feature — about this singularly intriguing talent will still be made.

Ambitious, sometimes clever but largely sputtering, The Mafia Kills Only in Summer works better as a childhood memory piece than as an adult tale of love and larceny.

The movie engagingly outlines blockchain’s role as the underlying technology behind such digital currencies as bitcoin (which gets its own dissection), plus its growing part in accounting practices, music industry payments and renewable energy markets.

Grünberg effectively incorporates archival photos and footage, drawings, and lyrical, illustrative bits of animation into this brief but rich documentary, which ends on a lovely note that brings Elbaum’s journey full circle.

Wish You Were Here is mystery moviemaking at its most intriguing.

Despite its family-friendly trappings, "Cats" is largely serious stuff; deliberately paced, thematically dark and often wistfully told, with enough moments of survival-oriented tension and dread to question its G rating.

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."

This is a soothing and transporting journey sure to inspire gardeners of all stripes to create their own slice of heaven.

This Is Our Land emerges as a vital portrait of political machination, human duality, the power of fear-mongering and how people can reflexively divide into "us and them."

If Remembering Gene Wilder isn’t always the most dimensional or penetrating look at an actor’s life and psyche, it still serves as an upbeat tribute to a singular movie star, and a worthy reminder of how much he’s missed.

It’s an often tender, affecting film that slowly creeps up on you — then completely takes hold.

Somewhere in “Queens” lies a stronger, more unique and inspiring story about family, culture and the place we call home. It’s too bad Romano didn’t fully find it.