Gary Goldstein

"Ain't in It" offers a warm and largely satisfying look at a man and his music and, for some, the end of an era.

The sumptuously shot, costumed, designed and scored Russian import The Duelist dazzles and provokes as it makes little real sense beyond the confines of its hermetic milieu.

A lovely closing story about Wyman and his idol Ray Charles speaks volumes.

Although 16 Bars doesn’t always effectively balance its powerful music element with its stirring personal profiles, the film remains a vital and involving portrait.

It all plays out more convincingly than it may sound, with McIvor layering in depth, dimension and grace. Period re-creation is also first rate and, for animal fans, there’s eye candy aplenty in the form of giraffes, lions, chimps, flamingos and, of course, one soulful elephant.

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.

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.

Mosallam’s incisive and heartfelt, if occasionally on-the-nose, approach to matters of love, religion, family and culture sets the film apart.

Buckle up for the ride that is Deliver Us From Evil, a highly intense and effective mash-up of police procedural and horror show.

As effective and fat-free as its sinewy star, Luke Evans, Dracula Untold proves an absorbing, swiftly comprehensive origin tale.

Although it may not be the most vivid or exciting subject for cinematic exploration, the documentary Seeds of Time offers a vital, clear-headed look at the effects of climate change on global food security.

It's all presented with equal parts humor and sensitivity, though Buford doesn't much delve into the potential landmines here - racism, classism, exploitation - allowing the power of assimilation and opportunity to carry the day.

[An] absorbing, well-crafted documentary.

A fine Watkins brings quiet depth and pathos to the buttoned-up, tightly wound Jonathan, while Graye proves an appealingly game and sexy counterpart.

Writer-director Zak Hilditch, with a strong assist from cinematographer Bonnie Elliott (who's bathed her frames in a kind of eerie sulfuric yellow), has crafted an urgent yet strangely simple and humanistic doomsday scenario.

This compelling psychological horror-thriller contains a tremendous amount of heart. That would be largely thanks to a moving and deeply sensitive lead performance by Jim Sturgess

[Evans and de Armas] take the film’s ridiculousness just seriously enough to keep barreling through while navigating the more puckish bits with the requisite charm and buoyancy.

Blackfish, named after the Native American term for orcas, remains decidedly one-sided. But when that "side" is such a vital, convincing proponent for the greater protection and understanding of such evolved and majestic creatures, it can't help but win.

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

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.

It’s a loving, rousing look at an amazing athlete. Yet for all its gripping, nail-biting action clips, there’s one moment in the film that rises above the rest — and it’s not set on the race course.

What the film lacks in biographical depth, it makes up for with stirring visuals (including effective bits of split screen, time-lapse photography and animation), a vibrant score and an infectious, in-the-moment spirit.

Kalhor's concise if low-key narration helps the story's many facts and facets unfold with clarity and context. Ultimately, though, it's the stranger-than-fiction nature of this eye-opening tale that makes the film so vital and involving.

It’s about as plausible as your average stage — or movie — musical, but Opening Night proves a funny and sexy, if decidedly slight, backstage comedy.

Although this movie’s unusual mix of first-person interviews, archival footage, voiceover narration and dramatic reenactments is a bit awkward, it still makes for a gripping, involving and affecting experience.

Despite the familiar setup, this is no "Same Time, Next Year," what with its hot-sheets trysts, full-frontal flashes and frank language. But the brief - sometimes very brief - encounters glimpsed here between the film's leads and sole characters (billed only as "Man" and "Woman") are inventive and telling.

Although the film can feel a bit been-there-seen-that, this earnest, well-drawn tale ultimately proves distinct and winning enough to warrant a look.

Greater technical and financial detail, additional period context, a deeper look at what makes daredevils such as Branson and Lindstrand tick, and snappier overall chronicling would’ve made this fun ride truly soar.