Katie Walsh

He (Stewart) bogs down his talented cast with a bewildering plot, tired tropes and embarrassing dialogue. This one, well, it's simply resistible.

Beharie is a tremendous actress, and Miss Juneteenth offers her a complex and nuanced role to prove her range. Peoples visually creates a rich tapestry of place, offering a peek into this world and filling it with believable characters, while carefully threading the historical and cultural significance of Juneteenth throughout. Daniel Patterson's cinematography is remarkable: beautiful, and with an easy, authentic groove.

Murphy isn't afraid to play with color and light and text and music, or to let her characters dance like no one is watching, and often. That energy, embodied in the filmmaking and in the performances, is what puts this coming-of-age film into a class all its own.

There is real potential in this premise, and a few flickers of genuine artfulness, but the storytelling is frustratingly abstruse, making for an Exit Plan that’s a real missed opportunity.

The whole endeavor is a naked attempt to cash in on the young adult fantasy trend spearheaded by "Harry Potter." There have been many attempts to snatch the Potter crown (and purse) but Artemis Fowl will not be the hot new kiddie fantasy franchise, based on this utterly charmless first entry.

Apatow's greatest strength as a filmmaker is an eye for charismatic performers who are just fun to be around, and The King of Staten Island is a testament to that. In Davidson, Apatow has a uniquely compelling young comedian.

Written by Nick Moore, Ruckus Skye and Lane Skye, the script just doesn't give us enough material to care about the story, which is devoid of subtext and keeps everything on the surface.

Feels incredibly fresh and modern in its singular style and tone.

The whole thing is a wild concept, hinging on the plausibility of every character's motivations, which are all a bit squishy.

It is an almost startlingly intimate film, following this strange relationship between these two, as they go through the challenges of life.

An angry, violent and despairing film, without much of a point other than that existence can be angry and despairing and memory is a prison. As a piece of art, entertainment or cultural ephemera, it is indeed bold, but it is significant not for what it says about Capone, but rather what it says about Trank, and the ongoing saga of his career.

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.

Arkansas doesn't break the mold on cheeky, stylish, low-life movies; rather, it worships it.

Despite its unevenness, it's impossible to look away from The Infiltrators, due to the sheer audacity of the activists and their willingness to risk their safe but shadowy existence in the United States for this cause.

A Secret Love doesn't dwell much on queer history or activism, as laser-focused as it is on Terry and Pat, and the bond between them. The film beautifully illustrates each of their spirits: the sweet and bubbly Terry, always ready with a signed baseball card, and the stern and protective Pat, who only lets her guard down under duress, but wrote pages of love poems to Terry, and still asks for a morning kiss from her love.

It's arresting to behold, but it almost seems to run out of steam at a certain point. But for any of its story flaws, Selah and the Spades is so tonally and aesthetically indelible, it announces the arrival of an exciting new cinematic voice in Poe, and cements Lovie Simone as a bona fide movie star.

As the film turns toward black comedy, mystery and horror, away from social mocking, it becomes far more compelling.

Sea Fever only momentarily touches the highest registers of operatic bloody horrors and outlandish fantasy sci-fi. Rather, it remains in the realm of the moral, the ethical, the human-scaled losses and decisions, which makes for just as, if not more, torturous personal quandaries. It's an absorbing (if sometimes muted) wrestle with the notions of ethics and infection, in a moment that couldn't be more appropriate.

Though the film eventually gets to where it needs to go, it feels scattered, stumbling over true crime tropes on the way.

Predictably, it descends into a meaningless blur of gravity-defying physics and robotic limbs by the end, where a lot of violence is happening but you’re never sure exactly why or even how.

It’s arresting, but the rapid shift in tone could give one whiplash.

Anchored by delicately moving performances from O’Sullivan and the amazing Williams, Saint Frances is a quietly riveting film that slowly but surely draws you in.

There isn't much nuance or complexity to be found in The Call of the Wild, but it's an old-fashioned animal-friendly adventure flick for kids, a modern-day and high-tech “Benji” based on a classic piece of literature.

Sonic the Hedgehog is legitimately funny, heartwarming and entertaining.

The real draw to the “To All The Boys” cinematic universe is the connection between Condor and Centineo, who have intoxicating chemistry, keeping things interesting as “P.S. I Still Love You” ambles to its inevitable conclusion. They bring the charm, but one wishes it had a more exciting movie to support it.

The themes that are unspoken, gestured at and repressed in “Force Majeure” are drawn out and made broad, obvious and slapstick in Downhill, which spoon-feeds the lessons of the dark-ish comedy and cuts short the plot for the easiest-to-digest ending.

Ostensibly, this is a tragedy about mental illness, and the way that someone can slip through the cracks in society without family, friends and a network of support. But Horse Girl is far more subversive and playful than just that, allowing for Sarah’s peculiar reality to envelope our own.

Christina Hodson’s script is a madcap, irreverent roller coaster ride, the story relayed in a loopy, looping, nonlinear fashion through Harley’s hyperactive storytelling style.