Glenn Heath Jr.

Walter Hill thoughtfully regards the pummeling power of weaponry at work.

Ruben Fleischer's film is a perfect example of Hollywood hypocrisy, something to be ignored diligently.

The film grows increasingly tiresome the more it flirts with melodrama, unraveling themes of jealousy, regret, and ambition in broad strokes.

The endless scenes of burning buildings and macho posturing merely provide an action-driven context for the filmmakers to deal with more personal topics like loneliness and resiliency.

Do we really need another cautionary tale about an ambitious drug dealer dramatically falling from grace?

Throughout, it becomes clear that both the film and its subject are defined by the necessity of multitasking.

People matter in Matthew Lillard's film; genre not so much.

End of Watch is pure frat-boy fantasy, the video game to Southland's great American novel.

If the film covers well-tread territory (a morally bankrupt player trying to prolong his own influence), it does so with pinpoint control of mood and theme.

Despite being a nasty and skillful action film, The Day goes off the rails in the final stretch.

The film ultimately fails to treat history as anything but a string of melodramatic reference points for moody characters haplessly trying to find love.

The seamless juxtaposition of faith and pain, innocence and guilt, allows the film to transcend Spike Lee's occasional bombastic moments and become a strong examination of internal suffering.

Isaac Florentine's film is maligned with gaping plot holes, terrible expository dialogue, and obvious moments of foreshadowing.

Never distinguishes itself as engaging cinema apart from the main character's vile charisma and a few dynamic dialogue sequences.

Nina Rosenblum's love letter never attains that essence of ambiguity that makes the best nonfiction films live on after the credits fade.

For a film that often veers into potentially absurd territory, You Hurt My Feelings shows a great deal of sensitivity toward its sad-sack characters.

Documentarian and subject, past and present blur together like bleeding watercolors in Raymond De Felitta's gripping memoir.

The bloat and heft of Marley's narrative scope leaves the viewer awash in a sea of historical "facts" with very little sense of the human experience behind the curtain of celebrity.

Unfortunately, like so many women have prophesized regarding the weaker gender's lack of commitment, there's just not enough follow through.

A strange and intoxicating indie constructed as a series of vignettes that capture two children grappling with the overlap of trauma and nostalgia.

It'd be unwise to dismiss Safe House as merely a clone of Tony Scott's manically inclined vision.

What sets Undefeated apart from the usual underdog sports story is how the filmmakers emphasize the importance of mentorship as something separate from on-the-field interactions between coach and player.

Visually glassy and smooth, Perfect Sense values the dynamic mood of each scene without being overly stylized.

Both as a character study and modern-day parable, Toll Booth sneaks up on you with its subtle use of repeating motifs and audible cues.

Angels Crest opens with the laughter of children at play, but that's the only hint of happiness you'll find in this unflinchingly manipulative and pointless morality play.

Not only does its incredibly loose aesthetic challenge the traditionally controlled and slick conventions of the cop genre, it adds a certain visceral haziness that compliments Brown's own professional and personal immorality.

Using a whirlwind of archival footage, maps, and split screens, Edmon Roch conveys Juan Pujol Garcia's reign as Europe's premiere spy in a constantly fluid fashion, aesthetically mimicking his crafty and cagey nature.

Watching Dennis Farina dominate every scene is a joy, and thankfully the actor makes the most of this opportunity.