John Fink

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

Step is a universal story of triumph.

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.

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

Keep Quiet is as fascinating as it is powerful.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

One of Penny Lane’s best pictures, Nuts! is quite a brilliant way to tell a peculiar story. Condensing a lot of material into a brief running time, this format allows certain liberties to be taken, particularly when imagined conversations appear.

Tower offers a chilling, first-hand account of those tremendously haunting days that live in infamy within our collective conscious: days that begin like any other until the unimaginable occurs.

Cherien Dabis’ All That’s Left of You considers generational trauma on both an intimate and epic scale.

The documentary combines first-rate storytelling and citizen journalism, providing a harrowing, ground-up look at those that are often denied agency or dismissed as troublemakers to be tear-gassed.

The film’s structure allows us to spend time both together and individually with each character, veering off with them for a day at the office, school, dance club, or park. It is simultaneously a slice of life and a film about the bigger picture.

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.

Striking a sweet, often humous tone, Arlyck navigates aging gracefully with a keen awareness of how parent-child relationships morph as time proceeds.

By focusing on his freshest, earliest, and perhaps most exciting work, we learn an awful lot about what is to come, making this an engaging study for both the unfamiliar and devoted students of Nichols’ work.

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.

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.

The Greatest Hits might not inspire thoughtful essays, as a cinematic pop album it satisfies with a few somber notes, some lesser tracks, and a few terrific moments where it all just works.

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

A surprisingly fun comedy.

Writer/director Dash Shaw’s hand-drawn picture is fun and slight without overstaying its welcome. It never runs out of energy and is constantly in a state of innovation and surprise.

The film’s charms exist in the performative elements contextualized amongst the film’s interviewees.

Here is the rare kind of often sweet college comedy with good-natured laughs that captures a side of the process rarely seen in frat comedies: the divide between those in the service industry and those that have the luxury to party eight days a week.

I Am Not a Witch is as fresh as it is provocative despite a few false notes along the way, especially in the film’s third act.

A funny, often fascinating riff on aspirations both in and out of reach, I Love Boosters is ambitious and, like Sorry to Bother You, explores the systems that make the American Dream possible for only a select few. But the film is also a gleeful celebration of the underdogs scraping by as the cost of living increases.