John Fink

While the romantic comedy and set-bound gags work, the hunt for Ryder––and the cartoonishly inept gangsters and drug dealers that populate his underworld––compel less.

While the show that ends the film might overstay its welcome a bit, Ghostlight is a profound work about a tough family made tougher by unimaginable grief.

With a premise that is as simple or as complex as you’d like it to be, Monkey Man anoints Dev Patel as a new action director and star.

Vibrant and often hilarious––with a surprise appearance by Fred Durst, who becomes a spirit guide to help the kids “break stuff” and save humanity––Y2K is far from perfect, but it does try harder than most comedies in its densely accurate portrait of an era of angst awaiting the nightmares of the 9/11 era.

The result, written by Julia Lederer (from her play) and directed by Kim Albright, is a film loaded with metaphors and similes where fragile hearts are made of paper and nothing is left to chance.

While any passage itself could make a compelling short, it’s largely held together by the curiosity of its maker and the tangents of interest to him as a family man of a certain age when friends, family, and those close to us start slowly fading away at a quicker pace.

Where the sprawling, knotty, and thoroughly captivating Soundtrack to a Coup d’État sheds new light is in its form, exploring a global conspiracy playing out often right in view.

The film’s free-flowing, sometimes experimental structure proves evocative.

Anselm at its most effecting shows how cinematic exhibition thoughtfully utilizing 3D can make an intimate encounter with an artist. When it’s less powerful, the experience suggests rushed cliffnotes of a fascinating life.

South to Black Power is a fascinating example of making the political science documentary personal.

In some passages, Cypher achieves a level of brilliance and psychological terror that becomes difficult to sustain as it winds towards its eventual conclusion.

Through its experimental structure, The Tuba Thieves defies convention, creating a challenging experience that forces us to listen without an overarching narrative imposing some sense of order or the authority of a documentary filmmaker.

Robot Dreams is one of the best films of the year, animated or otherwise.

Following the events that led up to Winner’s arrest––including recordings of conversations between Winner and agents who stopped by for a friendly chat, along with the efforts of her loving family to advocate on her behalf–– Kennebeck again has crafted an often riveting exploration of the state of national security.

There is a giant world out there, and Maltz’s first narrative feature is a rich and moving ode of the people we encounter along the way, as well as the roads not taken.

The Stroll is ultimately a celebration of the colorful personalities that worked the streets and have a story to tell. It’s a history of multiple communities and an important contribution to New York lore; a story told from the perspective of someone who made history and is now in a position to write it.

Caught between a horror action flick that delivers gallons of splatter and a well-cast high-concept comedy, both seemed pushed aside for mediocre thrills and a few chuckles.

There is something occasionally fun in watching a film with questionable choices bookended by over-the-top musical numbers. It’s not hard to imagine a spirited programmer getting a crowd excited for it at some point in the future.

Ambitious, accessible, and comprehensive, Kim’s film is a thoroughly entertaining introduction to Paik, filled with the same joy and curiosity as his work.

For horror fans particularly dedicated to this franchise, the character development might not matter as much as the horror sequences, which are extraordinarily well-executed, drawing upon the art deco aesthetic of an aging building filled with secondhand vintage furniture and random found objects.

The film is a compassionate portrait of a young man finding his place in several communities with a rigorous support system of mentors and family members in place. I just wish writer-director Khan would have given us a little more time with the rich ensemble around him.

Embellishments aside, Flamin’ Hot is like the perfect snack or comfort food: consistent, delivering an experience that pleases because it is so familiar, and a classic Hollywood rags-to-riches story with a heavy dose of Latin flavor.

This is much more than an ethnic family drama that aspires to have “cross-over universal” appeal, even as it generates such by throwing too many elements together alongside three unique, compelling stories.

The film does fall short of being the rousing comedy it sets out to be, falling into a fairly predictable pattern with a neat resolution and concept that it delicately doesn’t turn on its head.

Striking a thoughtful tone, The Integrity of Joseph Chambers is an observant film about justification—one with quiet consequences that become somewhat apparent in the nearly perfect final scenes featuring Jeffrey Dean Morgan as chief of police in this small town. The deliberate pace is bolstered by the humor of Chambers essentially playing dress-up and getting himself in way over his head.

Featuring a great premise from which to build a franchise, YouTube creators Danny and Michael Philippou’s directorial debut Talk To Me is a refreshing retread, imagining tantalizing “micro-possessions” that get stronger the more you use them.

Smart and perceptive, The Pod Generation is more than a one-note big-tech satire.

Kim’s Video is endlessly entertaining, embracing the energy of the films that made Redmon, a kid from Paris, Texas, who loved movies and was thankfully able to escape to New York at the right time and find Kim’s.