Jared Mobarak

There are countless openings for the plot to take wild left turns and embrace its overt severity as entertainment, but Proud Mary would rather stay the course of its one-note trajectory and remain earnest in its desire to be taken seriously.

Salama and co-writer Omar Khaled ingeniously use the death of Michael Jackson as the catalyst to go back to Khaled’s adolescence.

There’s little here to conjure any excitement.

Every single action proves overt to the point of superficiality with Hostiles becoming less introspective drama than unsubtle parable.

Whatever issues I have with the final construction don’t alter the reality that Recy Taylor’s story must be told and seen.

While the whole thing meanders with no destination, I’m going to hold my position in the middle because it looks fantastic. If nothing else this exercise in nihilism has given Keating an excuse to throw everything at the wall and see what sticks.

The Divine Order packs a lot into its brisk 96-minute runtime. But it never feels forced in the process.

Lamarr wasn’t without demons, but to look at the entirety of her life in context along its volatile trajectory of highs and lows is to understand she was a victim of chauvinistic times.

Stevens excels at playing put upon characters mired in self-doubt with both heavy drama and infectious humor (see Legion for another great example). He deftly pulls off the necessary instantaneous shift from frustration to epiphany very well.

It’s a humorously tragic scenario that excels thanks to its performances.

Negri has a compelling tale to tell about life, death, and love — the execution is just too schizophrenic to earn our investment.

Everyone involved grabs his/her role by the horns and rides the adrenaline rush to victory or death.

What makes Most Beautiful Island standout, however, is that it isn’t just about desperation.

If we’re not supposed to pity Dahmer while watching the unfortunate progression of his sad life, why are we watching? Is it to reinforce the notion that he was always a monster? Or is it to forgive Derf (Alex Wolff) and his buds for assisting in his descent? In the end it really doesn’t matter because we don’t buy any of it.

Adapted by Anita Doron from the award-winning novel by Deborah Ellis, The Breadwinner delivers a heart-wrenching coming-of-age tale within a nation that’s lost its way.

Hamoud’s message concerns having the courage to be who you are no matter what society or heritage demands. Compromise is important in any relationship, but it shouldn’t be one-sided and especially not favor the man simply because the culture is steeped in patriarchal infrastructure.

Thoman spins a suspense thriller with all its genre underpinnings around Miranda to take the control she’s always carefully ensured was hers away.

Boseman brings this badass attorney oozing warranted confidence to life opposite Gad’s non-confrontational everyman experiencing the true power of his occupation as a result. And Brown steals the show with an emotional turn able to earn empathy from the most jaded audience member like Spell did Marshall. It’s time new generations learn Thurgood’s name.

It can be a grueling experience considering the heavy subject matter, but there’s enough optimism to stave off boredom.

Addiction, mental illness, and religion become more than just color — they become real motivating factors that cause us to reevaluate everything we thought we knew. What’s great about this transition is that Wang isn’t merely a guide leading us through. She’s experiencing this shift too.

This is a film of philosophical rumination as its hopeful characters find themselves living in an imperfect world of their own creation.

Gyllenhaal is onscreen pouring his heart and soul into an imperfect man who’s made more inspiring for being so.

While Robinson’s film does fall into the usual trappings of biopic beats, its subject can’t help but transcend them.

Willer’s essay film is obviously a cathartic experience, her documenting a family history that transcends the personal towards the universal

The Fontana sisters amazingly traverse this evolving landscape, alternating between warrior and crippled as the plot wears them down to nothing. We desperately crave they’ll earn a victory, but a release from the torture may have to suffice.

The film becomes so self-aware that it’s tough to discern whether we should take what’s happening seriously or not.

The script carries us through without much effort, its expertly paced discoveries keeping us enthralled.

Jesús proves a gripping cautionary tale unafraid to let its characters suffer for justice. A son’s mistake becomes a father’s failure and no matter what happens, no one’s soul is left whole.