John Fink

The film is built on a wonderfully nuanced performance by Kier, who behind his sadness and longing can still lob a sassy witticism at rival Dee Dee Dale, and when they finally confront each other over discontinued hair spray, it’s pure joy to watch.

With a conversational tone framed by extensive archival footage and access to Smith and his family, Clerk is an intimate overview of Smith’s universe, inner circle, and influence over the course of his 25-plus year career.

Demystifying the backroom deals of film financing, Bateman has crafted an authentic-looking and -feeling commentary on show business designed perhaps to make the kinds of acquisition professionals and insiders who attend festivals and film markets uncomfortable.

What we do have is a vital and horrifying record of a crisis that we should have quickly learned from, that captures the moment with the immediacy of Facebook Live or Snapchat, while its subjects provide context months removed from the events of January and February 2021.

A Glitch in the Matrix fits well within the canon of Ascher’s pictures, which offer a kind of creepy alternative history of popular culture as interviewees work to identify hidden structures within their lives—including one who insists on organizing time in twelve-day weeks.

Despite a few missteps including its ambiguous treatment of female comrades in the film’s first two acts––including Hampton’s all-too-brief courtship with Debrah Johnson (played by Dominique Fishback)––Judas and the Black Messiah is mostly an uncompromising and riveting character study exploring power and oppression.

The film is unafraid of showing the real costs of political corruption from blood running in the streets to direct bribery at the polling stations on the day of the election. As intimate as it is brave, Softie is vivid warning and not an easy film to shake.

While The Reason I Jump is a profound and moving experience, one that isn’t easy to forget, it’s most effective when operating as an experimental work, taking a unique and lyrical approach to a subject that has often focused on the relationships and social struggles its subjects feel.

All My Life recalls the formula employed by Hallmark Originals, which have predictable beats, lack nuance, and are a kind of cinematic comfort food––this is the cinematic equivalent of drinking your Carmel Frap while crying your eyes out to the new Hasley album.

While the narrative may seem to some frustratingly sparse, The Killing of Two Lovers represents a leap forward for Machoian who somewhat scales up, creating a hauntingly personal portrait of a couple at a crossroads struggling in more ways that one to get by.

While the film never quite elevates itself to a harmonious balance of camp and art house, The Empty Man doesn’t lack ambition.

Plotting and pacing asides, Sylvie’s Love is a rich and graceful picture in passages.

The arc of the story feels a bit rushed as it darts between past and present, focused around a journey that is incomplete. Perhaps with a few more weeks or even another year, Berns’ story might have grown into something slightly more compelling as he transition into his new role as a grandfather and provider on a dwindling income.

She Dies Tomorrow is a bizarre and textured work of cinematic poetry, playing like a menacing death march into the unknown.

It’s a repulsive punk rock work that falls short of achieving what it sets out to do, finding itself parodying work that’s already a parody of itself.

Invigorating in many passages, the drama offers a few twists on a fragmented mother-daughter relationship. If anything, the film announces the arrival of an indie filmmaker to watch for in the coming years.

Explicit and spontaneous, Aviva is a film with several brilliant moments that sometimes loses its way in overly indulgent sequences and set pieces as it dares to chronicle nearly every intimate encounter its characters and many of their friends have over the course of about 40 years. While overly ambitious, Yakin imagines the private life your lover had before you with a sociological lens.

Instead of sinking in, I found myself yearning for the classics it has either been influenced by or is borrowing heavily from. If this were a more academic exercise it should have come with an extensive works cited page.

I Will Make You Mine is a brisk and somewhat scrappy film at times rushing its third act and embracing its small-budget roots. While an abrupt climax leaves messy lives a little too neat and resolved, the film is a fitting and sweet third chapter in the Surrogate Valentine series.

Fans may find it less than comprehensive in the later years of their history following Hello Nasty, but there perhaps is only so much one can do in this forum and the film largely succeeds at encapsulating their camaraderie and spirit.

A horror film populated by smart characters that take on the patriarchy by refusing to play by its rules, its anger and its heart is in the right place. The problem is how it achieves these ends with plot devices that feel borrowed from cheap studio cash grabs usually dumped in theaters in January and September.

The Up series feels like the last of its kind and should be treasured as such.

It demystifies an important part of movie magic with a diverse group of veterans of the craft, many who got their start as an apprentice for the best in the industry.

The Disappearance of My Mother is a bit too rough around the edges, but it’s as honest as it is persistent.

Raise Hell: The Life & Times of Molly Ivins is a funny portrait of a quick-witted satirist who called it as it was, unafraid to be a little mean to the narcissists who were just glad to see their name in print.

The film, although likable in passages, keeps the problems it explores local, with a narrow focus rather than creating a national call to action.

Despite a few laughs, it’s a film that panders to a general audience with the funky musical score of a blaxploitation flick but none of the heart, spirit, or outrage.

The Feeling of Being Watched is an illuminating documentary told through an engaging first-person perspective through the eyes of someone who as a kid may have not seen the entire picture – and as an adult is now starting to put it together before our very eyes.

Nothing Stays The Same is an important piece of Austin history with great performances but it feels as though director John Sandmann respectfully stuck to too narrow a mandate.

Yesterday, a sweet and well-meaning comedy, is a cautionary tale in taking on such an iconic musical output without adding much new to it.

Like Holmes & Watson proved late last year, two comedic giants is just not enough to save terrible material that should have been fixed long before the film went into production.

Upon a first glance, the film is somewhat hollow an experience, offering trite dialogue and an on-the-nose message about beauty and the horrors of genetic engineering taken to their extreme.

A surprisingly fun comedy.

Framing John DeLorean suffers from functioning as two potentially entertaining films in one, fighting it out on screen.

Run hits familiar beats and is often too guarded, leaving us grasping for a little more than its 78-minute run time can provide.

Despite its spunky tone, Ask Dr. Ruth feels like several documentaries in one rather than a comprehensive look at a fascinating and enduring woman who shows no signs of slowing down. Thankfully, the film never feels as if it’s a work of branded content but rather an honest and intimate portrait of a revolutionary American cultural icon.

The joy of Ferrara’s The Projectionist is simply in getting to know its subject.

Krauss packs a lot into what could be read as a prequel for his documentary, creating a brutal war on terror picture with a timely context.

Beautifully shot in Instagram-filter inspired hues by Tom Betterton and Adam Silver, After is occasionally aesthetically pleasing. Yet the talented cast is burdened by a dead on arrival screenplay that waters down what could have been an intoxicating tale of first love had it divorced itself from its dull formula that no doubt was influenced by committee and the studio’s desire to create what they think teen and tween audiences will enjoy.

While it aims to generate outrage it does so rather quietly (unlike the recent blunt satirical work of Adam McKay) with a predictable outcome as all rigged games do. The process of getting to that point feels terribly uneven; at times a bit over the top in passages and yet restrained in others as certain transactions are treated as just the cost of doing business in The War on Terror.

The film progresses predictably with an easy charm even if it’s dragged down by occasionally clunky pacing and sitcom tropes while exploring the complexity and flaws of its characters.

Imperfect, but delightful for much of its journey, Come As You Are packages an important human rights message in a comedy for the bros.

The supernatural element with low-rent visual effects derails an interesting enough concept where the rules don’t matter. Finding a creepy, mysterious porn film is weird by itself, and while it need not be grounded in realism like 8mm or Hardcore, Porno doesn’t have to throw away the rule book to be fun and scary.

It’s a film full of highs and lows, sorrow and recollection, fun and political ideology–a mess, but one that feels authentic and accurate.

Corben finds humor in the absurdity; what might not be so apparent while you’re laughing your ass off is just how well-made and -researched a tale this is.

The latest in a series of work about the cost of the refugee crisis and human migration, For Sama is a harrowing experience and certainly one of the most essential films of the year.

What it lacks in originality it makes up for in its empathetic charm. Sometimes that’s just enough.

Brief, personal, insightful, and well-crafted, Vision Portraits is a giving look at the process of expanded creativity by four fascinating artists.

Similar to Obvious Child, the film avoids over the top tropes and shock value with refreshing sincerity. This is the kind of sex-positive coming of age comedy that smart, curious teens truly deserve.

When the film works it veers into the domain of the uncomfortably hilarious as the maladjusted becomes a malcontent without a choice.

The Beach Bum is a skillfully crafted and often hilariously entertaining, but like an evening with Moondog, it might leave you with a hangover.

Despite a few over the top moments, Pig Hag is a nuanced and mature although not restrained portrait of someone who we all have met. This film sheds some light not only on swipe-dating culture but also the kind of people that are typically around the time Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ is playing and the house lights come on.

Superbly entertaining ... An engaging thriller first and a millennial can-do tale second, Tollman’s script sometimes tells rather than shows as it repeats points later in the picture. Yet the rapid-fire pacing is continually riveting, calling back to the great political thrillers of yesteryear.

Despite some endearing passages, Gene Stupnitsky’s uninspired crude tween comedy Good Boys is a cringe-inducing affair.

There are certain moments in Long Shot where I thought I might have been watching a new comedy classic. Unfortunately, Jonathan Levine’s rom-com slightly overstays its welcome with a predictably clunky third act that could have lost a few minutes.

Isn’t It Romantic misses several opportunities to find humor in its absurdity with low stakes, too little of a comic payoff, and only a few cursory observations about gender roles and norms in these universes.

Students of the genre will know what’s coming and if you’re craving a few thrills, you can do far worse.

Egg throws a bunch of interesting ideas at the wall, hoping one will stick. Its most profound moments are the genuine ones between Tina and Karen, when the film isn’t trying to shock and provoke with dry satire that occasionally misses the mark.

The gags involve cocaine, bees, primitive MMA, raw unions, and a selfie that goes horribly wrong with the queen, all of which are terribly tired and unfunny. This is the kind of damaged goods studios have been quietly selling to streaming services.

Amazing Grace is a rousing performance lensed with simple, raw, intimate filmmaking that’s unforgettable and nourishing for the soul.

Chronicling Bland’s own Facebook activism along with an examination of the mysterious circumstances of her death, the film is part legal procedural, police mystery, and an exploration of the kind of racism that led to her arrest in the first place.

Despite overstaying its welcome through one absurd action sequence after another, it knows exactly what it is: an action movie your uncle would have liked after receiving on VHS from Columbia House. It’s just skillful enough to keep one engaged as we witness otherwise dull archetypes escape one tense situation after another.

On Her Shoulders is an essential documentary about an inspiring young woman and allies that still have a lot more work to accomplish.

Sadie is a grim and moving character study grounded by exceptional performances.

Foster and Fanning are predictably great together, cut from the same bayou cloth, both doing what they must to get by, but the script gives them too little to work from. Instead, there’s only enough material for a few touching, if not heavy-handed moments along the way.

While a cynic could dismiss the film as branded content for Apricot Lane Farms, the film isn’t making a sales pitch for their products. Rather, it’s a captivating personal journey with a concern for harmony and a gentle sense of humor.

The foundation for a terrific, informative and bone-chilling documentary about where we currently are is here, but the problem is that we’re still very much in the middle of this story.

A tour de force of documentary filmmaking, Minding the Gap is a lively, often beautifully shot film about a pit of hopelessness–from dead-end jobs to drunken arguments to bad decisions. This is modern day John Cassavetes with tattoos and punk music.

The Sentence is a powerful film full of rich, raw emotions as all parties explore their vulnerabilities.

Without taking itself too seriously or academically, Upgrade operates with a level of remarkable rigor. This is a film that kicks ass, takes names, and has a healthy skepticism of the future without straying too far away from its B-movie, body horror ambitions.

The Workers Cup is a bittersweet portrait of the labor that built the glimmering towers, stadiums, and luxury malls: spaces these men are not permitted to be seen in public areas of.

Boom for Real is an engaging enough oral history from those that were there – directed in a manner that’s perhaps a little too straight forward for just how vibrant the material is.

It’s a film with an inspiring message that’s often uneven despite the coherence of its message guided by Solomon. As affirming and enlightening as the experience is, it does suffer from the trappings of flying into these characters lives and popping out rather than spending a considerable amount of time in their shoes.

When She Runs is a film that’s beautifully restrained.

Perhaps the director’s most no holds barred picture yet, it expresses the anxieties and political division of the Trump era.

While not breaking new narrative ground, it’s a confidently-directed picture, even surprisingly ambitious in later passages. It’s all carried by a stunning performance by Mary Kay Place, whose emotional journey is as profound as it is ambiguous as she remains steadfast in her ways despite coming full circle.

Fronted by a fine performance by Matt Smith, Mapplethorpe plays it safe with a subject that’s anything but.

Duck Butter remains a subversive treat for much of its running time, even when it falls into familiar patterns.

A game of Truth or Dare can actually be a great way to get to know each other, the only problem here is that these characters are so paper thin, that it’s hard to care what secrets they may hide.

In the end, The Legacy of the Whitetail Deer Hunter feels as innocuous and funny as some of the higher-tier films from Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison production studio. It misses the mark on subversion, but it at least offers a few chuckles along the way.

Ambitious and deeply flawed, Acrimony may appeal to hardcore fans of The Room–it’s not every day a melodrama comes along that’s this fun precisely because it never takes itself seriously.

Fast Color, like A Wrinkle in Time, provides an empowering message without much to latch on to. Hart, who impressed with her debut drama Miss Stevens, offers a banal, tired narrative, despite strong performances and occasionally beautiful visuals.

The New Romantic is the rare film that presents these relationships without judgment offering up the good, bad, painful, and confusing as a matter of fact.

Bujalski as a filmmaker has created a film as fascinating as anything in his previous output

Relaxer is a hard film to “like,” full of commentary and situations that push the bounds of good taste and camp but it’s one of Potrykus’ best pictures; watchable, hilarious, uncompromising, and even thrilling in its final moments–if you have the stomach and patience for it.

The film is wholly original taking on issues of the day from parental rights to mental illness and later, the opioid crisis. But while there is plenty of depth here, Thunder Road feels a little too much like it has been cobbled together from sketches and ideas for a one-man show.

Pet Names gets the emotional beats right even if it has a lot in common with lessor relationship dramas with lower stakes.

Blockers doesn’t pull off the impossible so much as it turns the tables on a common formula, finding something fresh, empowering, and hilarious in that time-old story of a group of friends making a pact to lose their V-card on prom night.

Intimate without being obtrusive, RBG doesn’t exactly demystify the Supreme Court so much as it brings us closer to one of its greats.

Well-acted and handsomely lensed by Aaron Kovalchik, Blame is an engaging debut that subverts the male gaze that might be associated with this kind of teacher/student relationship drama. It is objective without being titillating as it delivers low-key character driven thrills.

[A] hilarious and occasionally moving portrait of Jim Carrey’s time making Milos Forman’s 1999 Andy Kaufman biopic Man on The Moon.

Schroder and his subject do have a nice casual familiarity; hopefully he’ll check in on Ingels every ten years or so.

Fearless writer-director-actress Marianna Palka has crafted an bold, dark domestic comedy with Bitch.

Unintentionally timely, A River Below may be read as a Trump-era document, a tale of environmentalists versus local industry.

The New Radical is one of the more illuminating and scary documentaries of recent memory as it takes the time to make rational and disturbing arguments free from commentary.

Occasionally entertaining and cringe-inducing, it’s largely more of the same: a retread of previous Jigsaw/Saw outings that sets the series up for new revenue opportunities without slaying larger dragons.

Bill Nye: Science Guy mixes science and inquiry with an intimate look at the personal trials and tribulations of Nye as he struggles with guilt, seeing his brother and sister suffer from a neurological condition that he’s escaped.

While not breaking any new ground in the genre, American Satan is a stylish psychedelic thrill in the mold of a zany comedy that grows dark, quickly.