Jason Gorber

Anchored by another admirable performance by Fiennes, it mines its milieu effectively enough. Even if the end result doesn’t quite live up to the majesty of Elgar’s opera, or even the truly transformative societal shifts that the Great War wrought on this land, there’s enough to admire about what takes place on screen in this telling to recommend it.

Certain to energize longtime fans and generate new ones for generations to come, EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert is a masterwork of montage. It’s a definitive doc that gives the sense of how the artist changed popular music, but also about how at his core he was a man with a powerful voice and a zealous need to entertain.

If one (somehow) completely ignores the utter ridiculousness of a musical performance anchored with mediocre singing (insert snarky Russel Crowe-related comments here, if you’d like), there’s still a lot of fun to be had from the film.

If you’re looking for a brisk bout of debauchery and family shenanigans, Alex Winter’s latest chilly tale may well be something to be warmed by.

At its best, Blue Heron soars, creating the world of Sasha’s family in impressively precise ways and allowing the underlying questions to linger without succumbing to simplistic answers or pat moments for cathartic release.

Whether you attended those shows, had your own musical taste shaped by those that took the stage, or are simply interested in a more detailed look at this impactful period of popular music history, Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery provides an excellent guide to this most epic of traveling shows.

Ultimately, Mile End Kicks is a messy, heartfelt portrait of youth and creative ambition.

The prevention of the rise of similar evil is an unending project needing similar vigilance and tenacity as expressed by many of those captured here on screen in “Nuremberg.”

No Other Choice ends up a laudable mixed bag, a lot of morbid fun with committed performances and beautiful composition that meanders long enough that its rage peters out.

Making dumb seem clever, and clever seem silly, Matt Johnson and company take their mockumentary shtick to new and dizzying heights, literally.

F1 feels, at times, like an underbaked episode of Netflix’s docuseries Drive To Survive—albeit one with Top Gun-style editing, incredible access, and enough drama to make someone bored of the racing become enthralled with the gladiatorial characters behind the wheel of these incredible machines.

Bold, effective, and brilliant in equal measure, Moll’s film is a fine policier in the grandest of traditions, joining a long line of noir-inflected French police dramas unafraid of being more than vehicles for action and retribution.

Resurrection is a puzzlebox to be probed, a dream not simply to be decoded to provide a singular interpretation, but one to be enraptured as you are caught up in its fragmented logic, soothed by its smoke-filled spaces, and stunned by the myriad connections shared between its two central characters.

From its opening moments, The History Of Sound feels like it’s going to be something grand. It’s this feeling that makes the warbling result that much more disappointing, a song soon to be forgotten.

In the end, Splitsville is a lot of stupid fun told smartly, unafraid to lean into the salacious while still somehow maintaining an emotional groundedness.

There’s so much joy in this telling, so much sophistication of craft on display, and such a delightful ode to this exemplary era of creativity, that it seems downright churlish to hold back for the sake of performative reticence.

There’s a fascinating movie to be made about this period and these characters, but Ott's telling is simply not up to the task.

The very act of filmmaking itself helps Porcelain War battle against those that wish to erase this delicate yet resilient culture.

On the one hand, Seeds provides a unique glimpse into one family’s joys and struggles, while on the other it delves delicately yet effectively into larger questions of policy, politics, the scars of the past, and the challenges of the present.

While parts of it are laudable, unfortunately, Emmi’s film feels underbaked, never truly elevating its story to generate the kind of deeper effect that similar thrillers have managed to elicit.

For those drawn to the bent, who crave some "Cheepnis" in a cinematic landscape of overproduced and overpriced madness, they just might fall in love with Dead Lover for all of its foul, fecund, and farcical facets.

With fun production elements, a goofy storyline, discordant yet effective sound design, and enough oddness to keep things captivating, traversing through the world of OBEX makes for quite an entertaining journey.

Even the most jaded may be swayed by Perry’s latest demonstration of his skills at making movies that work simply but that also simply work.

Despite one electric scene that makes the rest of the film feel more risible, Modi, Three Days on the Wing of Madness is a plodding, pretentious mess that is easily one of the worst productions of the year.

While Carax’s cinema may not be to everyone’s taste, this primer on both his philosophy and his aesthetic is as effective as anything he’s ever directed. Brilliant in its concision, even the most jarring of elements never overstay their welcome, making this perhaps the purest and most honest chapter in his entire filmography.

This is a complete vision from a newly minted feature director, and it’s a work very much welcome as it joins the many that have tilled similar acreages.

In a land where truth is habitually stripped away in favor of political and religious control, Bread & Roses serves as a reminder of the bravery of those who sacrificed all for the love of their country and community.

Thanks to Itō’s tenacity and focus, Black Box Diaries boldly tells her provocative and haunting story, resulting in a richly drawn portrait of one woman’s fight for justice that’s sure to inspire change in Japan and beyond.