Katie Walsh

It rings true and resonates as real even in its fantasies, because it is rooted in a place of authenticity, in subjectivity, in emotion, and in storytelling. And that is what makes a film like this work so well.

Retaining the creative forces behind the successful musical is the key to the movie musical’s success, as “Matilda the Musical” maintains the mischievous humor and the uniquely oddball sensibility of the stage production and book, delivering a wonderfully rousing screen adaptation anchored by superb performances.

Fargeat delivers a macabre, funny, tragic, absurd and grotesque Grand Guignol of butts and guts; a bonkers and brutal “beauty horror” that elevates the genre to a hysterically unprecedented heights.

An illuminating and often hilarious portrayal of the man and his myth, and those who surrounded him.

Potash marks time by the year until the last 30 minutes of the film, when the clock intertitles speed up with the many advancements in her situation, building to a breathless finish that will leave the viewer emotionally crushed and yet also hopeful and joyous.

The jump-scares in the fun, funny thrill ride that is “M3GAN” elicit more giggles than groans, but there are also intriguing connections being made on “M3GAN’s” motherboard, behind the glossy surface.

Stylistic choices could have undermined the film, but the story and revelations are so shocking and powerfully absorbing that The Skyjacker’s Tale rises above.

It’s a stunning showcase for the acting talents of the young ensemble.

As comfortable to slip into as an afternoon in the sun, as satisfying as a late-night piece of cake, Princess Cyd is a jewel of a film that plumbs thematic depths far below its surface.

If you’re willing to surf on the wonderfully weird and wild wavelength of Infinity Pool it is indeed a singular, and unforgettable, ride.

The craft is gorgeous, but The Color Purple would be nothing without its star turns, and Bazawule’s cast takes your breath away.

This gem of a film manages to draw together our questions about the universe and ourselves into one single adventure story that hits every emotional beat. It’s what Pixar does best, and “Elio” is another knockout, a quiet but determined shooting star that earns its place in the galaxy.

It is messy and it doesn’t totally cohere (just how those Beat forefathers liked it), but it does stick to a guiding principle of yearning, expressed in achingly poignant, unforgettable moments of sound and image.

For the majority of the run time, Bugonia is the kind of film you respect more than you enjoy, as the archness and absurdity of Stone’s character is too dissonant with the sincerity of Teddy’s sadness at the core of this story.

Wright's film is a beautiful and deeply empathetic depiction of this community, a portrait of Vanier and his philosophy of compassion as the source of true human connection, found and forged with those who have otherwise been cast out by society.

Escalante draws remarkable performances out of his cast of mostly newcomers in this film about the consequences of pleasure and the many meanings of flesh; where animal intelligence fills the void left by emotional disconnect.

DaCosta, who made her directorial debut with the remarkable abortion drama “Little Woods,” firmly announces herself as an artist at work with Candyman, a genuinely terrifying and artful horror film that speaks with a bell-clear voice to the current moment, the product of centuries of racist power structures.

The film’s affable nature and the sheer charisma oozing off Pine and Grant is intoxicating, but overall, there’s a sense that it doesn’t quite gel, the engine revving but never hitting the speed of which it seems capable.

This film is not an easy watch, provoking anxiety, discomfort and even judgment about parenting and motherhood. Her love for her son is never in question, but Grace is a wild animal, and it is at times terrifying to be asked to dive into the cracked psyche of a brilliant but troubled mind with such immediacy and presence.

Other scenes work better, like a joyous birthday party, and a school concert, and there’s an affability layered throughout Is This Thing On? that makes it more of a hangout movie about a tepid midlife crisis than forward-moving drama.

This beautifully crafted jewel of a throwback thriller signifies Okuno as a talent to watch, but furthermore, it pushes the viewer to question what, and who, we choose to believe and why.

Carpignano once again uses a tight, intimate character focus to take a wider look at larger political and cultural issues in this region. In the poetically, humanistically crafted A Chiara, he also manages to flip the Mafia movie on its head, and in doing so, challenges the mythology that keeps these shadowy systems in power.

Calamy delivers a beautifully open performance at the center of an utterly winning comedy about the most important journey a person can take: toward finding themselves.

Silverman is completely riveting as she tries and flails to do right, and her physical performance is remarkable: a change in her gait or expression signals the switch in her personality from human to addict.

In its uncompromising vision, it may not be for everyone, but it’s definitely the movie that Batman needed.

The film is a fine reminder of how cinematic language can and should transcend the spoken word.

The Menu is a tightly wound, sharply rendered skewering of the dichotomy between the takers and the givers, or in this case, the eaters and the cooks.

Writer-director Anders Morgenthaler's conclusion comes far too hastily and haphazardly, with a disregard for plot details or plausible storytelling.

The overall tension allows us to skim over the flaws and foibles in the script, especially when the resolution is so hard-fought.

Larraín crafts a mesmerizing cinematic rhythm that alternates between montage and slow camera movements; the film’s push-pull tempo mimics that of Ema’s own intimate machinations.

The frenetic, ad-hoc aesthetic of the visuals complements the shaggy dog brilliance of Oasis.

When he finally learns to settle into the moment, to find contentment in the things he already experiences, it's a beautiful and quiet revelation, rendered with Mike White's singular sensitivity and gentle touch.

With an excellent cast and style, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is one gorgeous and dynamic fractured fairy tale.

It’s a journey deep into the psyche of the tormented genius, that is as all-encompassing and expressive of Cobain's spirit as a film could possibly be. It's a true achievement, both in documentary filmmaking, and in preserving the memory and legacy of Cobain.

Equal Means Equal is a lot to process, but offers an unflinching look at the fight for equal civil rights for all.

From the homophobic slurs to the lowest common denominator body humor to the stale gender politics, Pitching Tents is all cutesy retro raunchiness without any innovation or comedic payoff. It might have been excusable back in the day, but now it’s just boring.

While “32 Pills” is a devastating depiction of the effect suicide has on families, it’s more so a heartfelt tribute to her sister’s work and the connection that they shared.

Anchored by its leads, Coup! is a tasty morsel of social commentary about problems that continue to plague our world.

What’s so maddening about A Quiet Place Part II is the unused potential. Krasinski opens up the world and timeline of the film, but doesn’t utilize it in any meaningful way, introducing new ideas but then jettisoning the opportunity. Again and again he falls back on more of the same old tricks from “A Quiet Place,” which was a bore to begin with.

What you might not expect is how moving this whole story actually is. It’s not just the fun of figuring things out among this cast of colorful characters, rendered with a storybook look, it’s actually a tale about the importance of finding, and tending to, a flock.

This treatise on what to expect when you're not expecting offers up biting cultural satire with a hearty dose of humanity and humor to boot.

Tamblyn’s at no loss of interesting things to say and show on screen, and Paint it Black has some real gems among the jumble, especially Shawkat, who ably shoulders the task at hand, and gives a raw and sensitive performance of a woman dealing with the loss of a lover far too young.

Hartigan has a knack for sensitive, human dramas, and while Little Fish takes place in a near-future heightened reality, the story is relatable not only because we’re all living through a pandemic ourselves, dealing with grief and loss on a scale that ranges from the deeply personal to the impossibly large, but because this kind of loss is also very real.

It is a dark and often disturbing, boundary-pushing film, but the detached, almost ironic performance style provides a means to talking about taboo topics.

The tension never lets up and the shocking twists in the story need to be seen to be believed.

Maine’s film captures something indelible about adolescent female desire, without condescending or objectifying, because she understands, subjectively, what that looks and feels like: all the confusion and shame, but yes, also the pleasure to be found there. She beautifully depicts something that has been rarely seen on film: the lustful gaze of an adolescent woman (as opposed to the lustful gaze being directed at her).

All the women turn in funny performances — it's great to see Pinkett Smith cut loose, and the charming and radiant Hall displays a faculty for physical comedy — but this is Haddish's movie, and will make her a star.

It’s a film that dares you to give it a bad review, simply so it can turn around and call you a bully who picks on the people who try. It invites you to giggle at Florence’s horrible singing and then promptly scolds you for laughing, creating a contradiction that goes unreconciled.

Bannon may think he's constantly manipulating the media, but in this film, Klayman uses the tools of documentary filmmaking to reveal his inherent emptiness.

Fort Tilden is cringe-worthy but true. Maybe that's why it's so uncomfortable to watch.

This madcap mockumentary works beautifully because Gordon, Lieberman, Platt and Galvin take care to imbue this setting with a real sense of culture and place, populated with wonderfully eccentric characters.

A tidy if bloodstained little thriller with a clever idea at its core.

Maidentrip ends up being not necessarily about the amazing feat that Dekker accomplished, it’s about finding one’s true self, and enjoying the ride along the way.

The film is an evocation of character, place and time, the tempo alternating between moody and lively, like our central odd couple, laconic Benny and chatterbox Kathy.

There are times when this visual twist confuses rather than elucidates. However, there’s no denying the bracing, honest nature of Mouthpiece, a truly revolutionary piece of filmmaking.

The protagonist's unlikable routine is too high a degree of difficulty to execute flawlessly.

The ensemble shines in demonstrating the complexities of the individuals who either endure or exploit this system of abusive power dynamics.

Thavat’s harrowing, moving film doesn’t necessarily offer justice for Bunny, but instead regards the small pieces of justice that Bunny, as misguided as she may be, ekes out for herself and her loved ones within a system that is trying to keep her down.

Streep once again unnecessarily proves she’s the best in the business with her performance, delivering more in a single quiet line delivery than most actors can achieve.

Patel’s passion project Monkey Man is a big swing, and a big swerve for the actor. Luckily, it connects, landing with a satisfyingly bone-crunching intensity. And if the movie is intended as Patel’s calling card, he leaves the whole damn deck on the table.

This film reveals not just how integral casting directors are to the creative process of filmmaking, but really how important they have been in shaping the history of American cinema.

Porter’s film is a warm biography and depiction of Lewis’ life, but there are moments where one wishes it had a bit more bite.

It's amusing but not a comedy, never losing its heart to irony or sarcasm. While Paddleton takes its time to get there, it ultimately reaches a deeply poignant conclusion. If you're patient enough, that alone could be worth the trip.

It’s an interesting hybrid of the relationship movie, mumbly indie and dark murder film, and the combination works here, for the most part.

The story is fantastical, predictable and utterly delightful, allowing the audience to engage in familiar generic pleasures that have been cut and trimmed to fit every curve neatly.

Meet the Patels is a fascinating window into the cultural practice of arranged marriages through a contemporary lens and anyone who’s been through the trials and tribulations of dating (or parenting those who are) can relate.

With simple storytelling, the film allows its star, Velasquez, to shine, and with her endless reserves of positive energy, eloquent speaking and willingness to be vulnerable, it's no wonder millions of people have already found her inspirational.

A dirge of unfunny scatological material, techno-anxiety and child endangerment masquerading as familial bonding. Settle in for the "Long Haul," because this is one bumpy, miserable ride.

It inspires deep respect for the fierce and independent artist she is, a person whose voice is necessary, now more than ever.

I Swear is a film that was made with a lot of bravery and heart. It’s an important extension of John’s advocacy, but it’s also deeply moving and very entertaining.

This magical, erotic, disco-tinged horror-thriller is like cinematic candy.

The film, while well-intentioned and informative, is a somewhat unfocused piece.

The Current War: Director’s Cut is an interesting yarn. But one just can’t shake the feeling that it’s just a Wikipedia article jazzed up with a lot of fun camera tricks and some cinematic wizardry, though Westinghouse and Edison would have to be proud of the amazing movie magic.

Both bleakly humorous and laugh out loud funny, the brilliant All About Nina is a powerful film about the importance of women’s voices, and the change that can come from telling your story.

All too often, the human aspect gets lost in the spectacle of an action movie. But Rucka and Prince-Bythewood foreground that element of the story to create something with stakes, intrigue and philosophical weight. They make sure this cool concept and cast are given their due, and set up a sequel too. With any luck, we'll see this world again.

Yellow Rose is an emotional blunt instrument. It’s not exactly subtle, but then again, the best country songs, and the best coming-of-age tales, rarely are.

LaBeouf brings the soul to The Peanut Butter Falcon, while Gottsagen brings the spirit.

Louder Than Bombs never quite comes together. You keep waiting for it to gel, but it just drifts along until it drifts away.

The filmmaking craft on display and the control over the storytelling and suspense is exceptional.

Censor is a bold artistic statement, inspired by the history of its own genre, though it’s not an uncritical assertion, posing complicated questions about media effects without offering easy answers.

The beauty of Lion is that it explores and allows for the unique possibilities and power of multiple homes, multiple families and multiple selves.

Cooper knows he has an audience willing to listen, and what he says is so beautifully, powerfully open-hearted, vulnerable and loving it's overwhelming.

The Little Hours gets freaky, but it never feels truly subversive, or even that titillating.

The stories of growing up and finding yourself remain the same, but it’s the moving performances and specific details embroidered on this one that make it so special.

The character and Qualley’s performance is so beguiling that it would be a delight to watch Honey O’Donahue solve any manner of mysteries of the week, “Columbo”-style. It’s a shame, then, that the particular mystery at hand in Honey Don’t! is so convoluted and nonsensical.

This sincerely felt and utterly effervescent coming-of-age tale expresses a universal truth about being alive: that hopefully, you'll have the chance, and the awareness, to make and remake yourself, again and again, dusting off the old bricks you've got and forming them into something familiar but new.

It’s an overwhelming, and sometimes disorganized firehose of information.... Ultimately, however, I Am Jane Doe is a powerful call to action to protect children over profit.

Horror films often offer catharsis, but rarely are they also as deeply sorrowful as Keith Thomas’s The Vigil, a horror film based in Jewish faith and culture.

Kill Me Please acknowledges the dark and riotous physical energy of teen girls in this tribute to slasher films and coming-of-age comedies that proves to be a new classic from first frame to last.

At times, it can feel a bit like “Clue” with so many plausible characters and motives swirling around and around, but Bana keeps it grounded, as a professional trying to do his job the best he can, while caught up in memory and trauma.

Though the narrative often lags or stops outright to revel in Nourry’s art, when the film dives into her struggles with identity in relationship to cancer through art, it’s fascinating, and very emotional.

An unprecedented take on the holiday film, but not an entirely successful one.

Impeccably written and beautifully performed by Anton and Green, Of an Age is a profoundly moving film about the beauty and the horror of what it means to be seen for the first time, to love for the first time, and how the past and future are constantly informing each other.

Hilariously daring, deeply moving and stereotype-busting in equal measure, Joy Ride is also the raunchiest movie to make you shed a tear.

A horror film that’s a true triple threat: stunning, smart and wildly entertaining.

The story of Captain Underpants is funny, fresh and frantic, playing with format and genre, adding meta, self-reflective winks. The film is propelled by its hyperactive energy and quirky style...and the combustible chemistry between the two leads.

Because the film is such a technically dazzling marvel of staging, cinematography and sound, it is as physically and visually intoxicating as the punch, but Noe has loaded the transfixing, orgiastic display with land mines that will always keep you on your toes.

This film quickly reveals itself to be a beautifully heartfelt and poetic tribute to the filmmaker’s mother.