John Fink

The film is at its best in moments of warmth, humor, and kindness—that is where it really shines, without needing to amp up the stakes or shift forms.

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.

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.

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

An illuminating film about poverty that one hopes can be a call for action even if the film itself doesn’t directly encourage advocacy, it’s clear that hashtags and temporary fixes aren’t enough to change Ahkeem’s life.

A documentary that is “authorized” by his estate––which perhaps gives mother Bernard a platform to right his wrongs––the picture smartly never takes the middle ground, but rather provides a kaleidoscopic portrait informed by those that knew him well—family, business partners, mentors, contemporaries.

Dina will certainly provide fodder for discussion on documentary ethics, but what I do appreciate is its simplicity. It invites us in, allowing us to not only eavesdrop but intimately connect with folks we may not otherwise get to know as we pass by them in Walmart or on the bus.

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.

While bound to spark hundreds of think pieces, Alex Garland’s stirring Civil War will undoubtedly go down, too, as one of the most provocative films of the year. It’s also an early contender for one of the best, offering a stunning warning: no matter what the cause, war is hell.

While the film may embrace a low-budget, drab-naturalistic aesthetic, it’s far from dull. Duplass, Strassner, and Larsen brilliantly execute one of the year’s finest romantic comedies.

Virtually free from quirk and black humor, the film is an effective, nasty thriller and a rare horror film that provides an emotional investment because the portrait of teenhood is utterly authentic.

It’s a hard picture to dislike. The Belchers are such a purposefully weird and inclusive group; even if you haven’t seen the show you’ll feel right at home after a few minutes.

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

Led by a powerful and quietly resilient performance by Linda, Afterimage may not contain everything Wajda has said or wish to have said, however it is a moving tribute to a career marred by personal and national trauma, and one of the year’s best pictures.

Mixing talking heads and on-the-ground footage, National Bird is a vital film about the true cost of war, well-reported by Kennebeck.

Life, Animated, like Owen, is optimistic and should provide a measure of comfort for the many families affected by a complex disorder – such stories are essential to share.

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.

Lovesong is a rare film of mature, emotional complexity anchored by two remarkable and beautiful performances.

The Hunt for Planet B is an evocative documentary.

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

Rodgers has crafted a worthy companion to Chasing Amy, a warm and inclusive film that could not come at a better time.

A throwback to a kinder, gentler comic sensibility combining the surreal, the whimsical and vaudeville, Lost in Paris successfully delights as two misfits continue to find themselves beholden to the kind of destiny that only graces visitors to the city of lights.

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.

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.

Carney has offered a sharp, hopeful crowdpleaser that strikes the right notes.

A stronger character investment up front would have led to a fuller character study as we watch Cathleen walk through the fire.

The film itself seems to have blossomed organically while unfortunately never quite finding its motivation.

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.