Jordan Ruimy

The meaningful topics of female sexual expression, repression, and desire for acceptance that “To the Stars” portrays are relevant, but it’s a shame they’re not more poignant and persuasive.

Ultimately, the lack of risk-taking not only makes for a pedantic experience but ironically serves Tubman very poorly, never allowing for Erivo’s performance or the spirit of the subject to ever feel truly free.

Although Miller invests heart and soul into the performance, maybe even career-best work from the actress, and the rest of the cast, especially Hendricks, are excellent, Ingelsby’s screenplay foolishly decides to lay its interests on Deb’s terrible taste in men rather than her daughter’s disappearance.

Despite this disappointing effort, Diao continues to impress with the clever use of his camera. Now, one just wishes he could find the substance to pull all this style together in a winning fashion.

Even as an homage The Hole in the Ground feels like business as usual rather imbuing the genre with a much-needed modern edge or new context.

A film that features a few fantastic comedic highlights unfortunately weighed down by a misfired performance from its lead actress. The result is an occasionally funny, inventive, but inconsequential, feature.

Feeling stilted and steeped in uninspired biopic tropes, Kelly’s film never comes close to an inventiveness worthy of JT’s imaginative, outrageous story.

Minghella surely knew that what he had here was a familiar story, but despite his gritty and admirable direction it fails to break the traditional formula.

The potential of this movie’s premise might have been squandered by cliches, but McBride and DeWitt keep it watchable.

The simplicity of the film is commendable, but it’s only in the last act where things finally come together and any kind of visceral thrills arrive far too late. Even Mikkelson’s on-screen talents can’t save an admirable yet stagnant film in dire need of a heartbeat.

The film is a trifle, albeit one spiked with mirth and malice.

The missteps seem to never end as the director and actors struggle to bring some kind of coherence to this unwieldy film. Although it tries to be political and relevant to our times, Kings becomes such a confusing blur that one wonders where precisely in the process it all went wrong.

The struggles that Chris and Carol are put through may be brought to life with an authentic touch by Shelton, but they are explored with much complexity in better, more substance-filled endeavors.

Branagh—the actor—dominates the film, with everyone else in supporting roles. Meanwhile Branagh—the director—relies on a too-colorful style and atmosphere, shooting himself in the foot by cutting short the darkness that loomed in Christie’s original vision.

The fact that you do care about their being together means Abu-Assad and company have succeeded, at the most basic level, what they set out to achieve.

The lack of narrative propulsion or powerful subtext of any kind results in little dramatic substance beyond its cult-like ambitions.

Newness attempts to be a prescient look at modern passion, but it ends up recycling the same old tired clichés that invade most sappy cinematic love stories.

For a film that has such an intriguing premise at its core, The Yellow Birds seems to drag due to Moor’s abrupt tempo changes and flat visual style.

[Robespierre] and Slate make a formidable, interesting pair together and I do look forward to their next venture, but Landline is a disappointing venture.

If George set his sights on capturing the effects of this tragic stain in history rather than love-making, we might have gotten a drama worthy of the talent involved.

It’s a real shame that Walsh decides to concentrate a big chunk of her movie on the stilted love affair between Everett and Maud, in a relationship that starts aggressively intriguing, but becomes the definition of saccharine by its climax.

If the first half is an indelible treat and gives one high hopes that a film delicately placed in the awards season will in fact meet its steep expectations, the second half is troublesome and falls flat.

Deepwater Horizon reminds us just how talented an action director Berg is and how often substance becomes a second thought for the director.

[Chan] brings energy to a film that desperately needs any kind of life, but there is only so much Chan can do.

Embers attempts to be a complicated dissection of a possible world not too far ahead of us, but it lacks the imagination to make us soar along with its vision.

It might not be as risk-taking as previous Shainberg gems, but his knack for expertly crafted drama remains.

All four actors are perfectly fine here, but the set-up is predictably conventional.

What keeps Burden captivating are the performances, especially from Riseborough, Whitaker and Wilkinson, consummate pros that give their characters flesh and blood dimension.

The first hour is overwhelmingly exciting as Levinson uses split screens and more stylistic techniques to make his story pop. The dialogue is also delivered in impressively natural fashion, with the leading quartet discussing subjects that capture the zeitgeist. However, the ultra-violent finale goes over the top, lacking the pizzaz and inventiveness of the film’s earlier stages.