Katie Walsh

Writer-director Bertrand Mandico’s The Wild Boys is a heady, sexually charged take on “Lord of the Flies” — an exciting sail on the waters of gender fluidity that energetically skewers any notion of the binary.

In her film debut, [Pankiw] delivers a full and fulfilling narrative arc that is anchored by a surprisingly complex performance from Sennott. Rooted in a specific sense of place, character and emotional truth. The movie is a rare indie gem worth discovering.

It’s a film that calls into question our own biases and accepted notions and encourages one to get out there and find the truth — it could be an adventure after all.

It is a beautiful blend of unforgettable physical performance and visual lyricism brought to bear on the tragic life story of the Gibbons twins, their wildly imaginative writing woven throughout like a sparkling thread, offering a brief glimpse into their realm of existence and imagination.

Stupnitsky and Eisenberg have deftly mined this space for laughs, and the seasoned comedy vets (“The Office,” “Year One,” “Bad Teacher”) deliver a joke-dense and highly original coming-of-age tale that’s sweet and sour in all the best ways.

With real soul and gravitas, Marks and Power craft romantic drama that demonstrates that life’s hardest challenges can come at any age.

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.

Taylor plays Dawn’s slide into this mental health crisis beautifully, and with conviction, and Owen is stunning as the high-achieving, yet fragile Melanie, who seeks oblivion and solace in a risky boyfriend (Ian Nelson).

Polak’s film is an unflinching exploration of beauty, identity, sex and self in the wake of a life-changing event.

In between rehearsals, they discuss their lives, from facing the draft board, to their small hometowns, with a fascinating frankness.

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

Piece by Piece is ultimately a surprisingly moving biography, and a resonant reminder of Williams’ outsize cultural footprint. The Lego format doesn’t cheapen the power of Neville’s message, but rather reflects the quirky, outside-the-box thinking of the artist himself, who has always marched to the beat of his own drum, steering the cultural ship according to his unique point of view.

No Man of God is impeccably and carefully directed by Sealey, and the craft on display is remarkable.

Kusama reveals and conceals the geography of the house, parceling out just enough information to understand its logic, while leaving certain dim recesses mysterious.

For an adoptee, the notion of “family” is so much more complicated and layered than it might be for someone else, but what Found powerfully argues is that within these many layers, there is an abundance of a unique kind of love, and understanding, to be found. You just have to look for it.

In Vengeance, Novak sets his sights on lampooning the big-city media types who go chasing stories in middle America and return with observations from the “flyover states” that are usually condescending, preachy, or inauthentic, and in doing so, he finds the humor, and something honest too.

Like any good sunset, the beauty to be found in “Cusp” is in between the darkness and the light, in the almost imperceptible shades of gray. Most important, it’s found in the bonds the girls have with each other.

One may not entirely understand exactly what is going on in “Cuckoo,” but there’s no denying how it makes you feel: rattled, unsettled, psychically imprinted with unforgettable images and sensations, which is how every good piece of horror should leave its audience.

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.

The refreshing element is that the story resists normative fantasies of sex or romance — in Paris Can Wait, Coppola focuses on the relationship to the self.

Parmet’s strong script and surety behind the camera navigate the audience through this complicated story of religion and sexuality, patriarchy and power, brought to eerily accurate life by the ensemble of excellent actors.

Like a weaver on a loom, Hansen-Løve loops these moments together, threading small moments of thought-provoking social commentary throughout, revealing the larger picture only once the process is done, offering a snapshot of a moment in time, a profound and captivating portrait of love, lost, found, and ever-remaining.

Katsoupis poses these probing and provocative questions about humanity but doesn’t offer any clear answers or messages. Rather, he lets his muse, Dafoe, simply inhabit this harrowing journey with his strange magnetism and sense of timelessness, in a performance that is simultaneously primitive and transcendent.

Shawkat's writerly voice in Duck Butter is deeply personal and probing. The film is funny and honest and Arteta, working with cinematographer Hillary Spera, balances the intimate material with a light, airy sensuality. Shawkat and Costa each give intensely powerful performances, and together they are magnetic.

This visceral and anxiety-laden vision ends on an uneasy, though hopeful, note.

In Lemon, Bravo and Gelman find a transcendent absurdity in the mundane that’s awkwardly enchanting. It’s more tart than sweet, but deliciously weird nonetheless.

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.

Transformer beautifully captures the process of Janae crafting her own sense of femininity, unique to who she was and who she continues to be.

The film articulates a concept of universal humanity. No matter the religion or circumstances, we all have the same desires for peace and connection throughout life.

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.

This lyrical and ethereal film mixes the stark style of a crime story into a love story, capturing the highs, lows and the deepest, darkest recesses of grungy, stoned teenage life; a life always yearning for more.

Walter brings a sense of the epic to Kelly's uniquely sensitive story that bravely faces down the good and the evil that exists within us all.

Lovesong is a character study of this relationship, casually yet carefully sketched out by Kim in subtle but meaningful gestures and glances. Much is communicated through the eyes, searching for answers in the void of what’s not said, but felt.

The film is a true dramedy that wrestles with the darker, sadder elements of life in a frank, funny and deeply relatable way.

The young actress Haas is riveting in a performance far beyond her years. Princess takes its time, but patience pays off in this sensitive slow burn of a story.

For all its bloody and violent genre trappings, Pilgrimage — directed by Brendan Muldowney and written by Jamie Hannigan — is a gorgeously shot film that carefully renders the details of this fascinating historical period.

It’s fascinating to observe how the feminine perspectives of XX create four powerfully compelling and original horror tales that operate within the genre while testing the boundaries of traditional storytelling and style.

The film is so much more than just an exploration of this anomalous oddball story and character who managed to outsmart the media. The focus on the control-room panic illustrates how these corporate narratives shape the myth of the American Dream, effectively deconstructing the fantasy that any of this was ever about luck at all.

Rozema has a careful but unflinching eye when it comes to presenting the physical and emotional traumas the sisters experience. Even when some of the events escalate to operatic, nearly mystical levels, the direction feels assured and solidly rooted.

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.

Writers James Vanderbilt and Guy Busick keep the blade sharp, while directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett bring a brawny, bruising and bloody style to this “requel sequel.”

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.

It's illuminating to see Huppert and Depardieu in a different mode, and Huppert brings a delicate physical and emotional fragility to her role. These two are fantastic, and they're fantastic together.

The antics are wacky, the jokes are dense, and “The Bob’s Burgers Movie” is both nail-bitingly tense and genuinely moving. It’s a story that demonstrates the powerful force of family unity, and that small businesses are tantamount to preserving the fabric of a community. But most importantly, it’s hilarious, and it’s likely to make you crave a burger too.

It's a rare delight to spend so much time with the inimitable André. This revealing documentary shows the playful, loving and vulnerable side to this towering figure of taste.

It’s a thoughtful and complex film that unfolds under repeat viewings and signals the arrival of an exciting new filmmaker.

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.

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.

While the film seeks to put Antonio’s name on the same level as the boldfaced names he rubbed elbows with, it is a stark, sorrowful reminder of the many artistic geniuses cut down in their prime by AIDS.

This is a penetrating biopic, and while it may take a familiar shape, the pioneering woman at the center was anything but traditional.

While the setting may be humble, Margolin captures the unlikely beauty of the Valley, and injects thrilling suspense into this yarn, one that transforms quotidian dramas — like making an unprotected left turn, or closing pop-up ads on a webpage — into nail-biting action sequences.

Filmmaking duo Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau have crafted a film that articulates the ability for sex to produce just a little bit more love in the world, for a moment or an eternity.

The darkest moments are depicted in rapid-fire montage, and as audience members, we never get a sense of the characters’ true anguish and pain. But this family drug drama isn’t typical, instead crafting an experience that is hushed, poetic and intimate.

It's a sweetly funny, charming and poignant depiction of this very specific time in life — at once universal and specific — when anything seems possible. And with killer pop tunes to boot.

Make no doubt about it, Uncle Drew is a very silly film, old-age makeup and all. But it's got humor, heart and a killer soul soundtrack. You'd be soulless to not find some joy in this movie that's pure summer fun.

Like many great monster movies, Hatching uses its creature as a metaphor for repressed emotion, and the one at the center of this film is one of the most uniquely grotesque creations seen on screen in a long time.

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

With careful craftsmanship, Half the Picture is an important piece of testimony in the fight for the civil rights of female directors in Hollywood.

What starts as a biography turns into a detective thriller as Green crisscrosses the globe, searching for clues as to why Guy-Blaché has been forgotten.

Ultimately, "Bloodlight and Bami" is a rich, delicate tapestry of a life, where each thread is lovingly woven together to create a full picture.

It’s a maddening but ultimately uplifting tale about a fearless woman who fought tirelessly for her people.

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.

If it’s imperfect, or certain narrative turns are rocky, you forgive it because Bottoms is just so audacious, and most important, the jokes are nonstop. Perfectionism is a trap, anyway.

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

Co-writer and director Maxime Giroux's Felix and Meira is an unusual love story that, though shrouded in chill and shadow, has moments of true loveliness.

The House on Coco Road is a remarkable document of how social forces affected the lives of Baker and his ancestors. It might lack the scope to encompass all of the story it wants to tell, but it’s a compelling conversation starter.

This dire and dreamy road movie is impressive work from director and co-writer Winkler (he co-wrote with Theodore Bressman and David Branson Smith).

Condon is utterly captivating as a brutal villain, and no one plays a valiantly chagrined hero like Neeson, sorrowful and suffering. In the “Neeson skills” canon, In the Land of Saints and Sinners proves to be a gem, the performances elevating a enjoyably pulpy thriller.

There is beauty among the terror and an element of anxious unpredictability thrashing our characters like the waves that crash against the cliffs. But the deft spectacle would be nothing without the characters and performances.

Under the Wire brings a vivid immediacy to this tragic event. Conroy speaks candidly to the responsibility that he feels to survive and to tell the stories of the others, a task that he will carry with him for the rest of his life.

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

What emerges from the electronic noise and fussy aesthetic of “BlackBerry” is a compelling portrait of a company that flew too close to the sun.

Writer-director-editor Danny Sangra takes on the complicated relationship between art and commerce in the sharp, surprising Goldbricks in Bloom.

The ending is ambiguous enough to be refreshingly un-clichéd. While “I’m Your Man” is very romantic in its own way, the movie is elevated by pondering not just love but life and our impending relationship to advanced artificial intelligence, a question that is surely already upon us.

Husson’s film details the consequences of such free love, but it celebrates sex too — the kind based on intimacy and love. Teens and sex: it’s a tale as old as time but this take is surprising, invigorating and sharply frank.

It’s a different register for Rapace, who remains controlled, with a few explosions of emotion. But she is present and instinctual, imbuing Maria with a steely but soft power: decisive, persuasive and feminine.

Jackass Forever transcends the body horror to achieve a kind of nirvana: The crew invite themselves to laugh so they don’t cry, and ask the audience to do the same. It’s a reminder that pain is temporary but friendship is forever.

It’s a profound love letter from daughter to mother, an expression of a desire to remain close to her, and in fact, a love letter to all mother-daughter relationships that persist in spite of and because of all the flaws, foibles, and fallibility that comes with being human.

With a confident eye and economy of storytelling, DaCosta crafts a fiercely feminist and sensitive family portrait that fearlessly takes on the capitalist rot at the core of the American healthcare system.

In Wilkes’ heartfelt thank you note of a film, time, art and space collide, though in the end, all things must pass.

Leena Yadav’s Parched is a bright jewel of a film, surprisingly funny, fresh and upbeat in the way it takes on the complicated and often dark topic of sexual politics in rural India. T

This film — which follows the process as a litter of puppies make their way through training to become guide dogs for the blind — shows us the best in humanity, as well as the best in dogs.

The film maintains a quiet dynamic even throughout the most horrific moments, and while you might expect, or even want, the film to climax more operatically, the understated tone is a radical choice.

It’s goopy, gross fun, if not entirely terrifying, and if there’s a weak link, it’s the screenplay, which toys with deeper social and sexual themes but skims along the surface and leaves loose ends untied.

Owen Kline’s darkly hilarious directorial debut Funny Pages is a coming-of-age tale that finds the sublime in the grotesque, and the profound in an absurd search for meaning in the basement apartments and comic book shops of Trenton, New Jersey.

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.

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

There simply aren’t enough female dirtbags in cinema, so Lawrence’s Maddie Barker — Uber driver, surly bartender and pissed-off Montauk townie — is a refreshing character.

As Sam, Deutch is supported by the likes of Halston Sage as uber mean girl Lindsay, using her armor as a weapon, Logan Miller as longtime pal Kent, and Medalion Rahimi and Cynthy Wu as the rest of her clique. But this is Deutch's film.

The intersex movement is about living fully without fear, shame or trauma, to live life on one’s own terms, and the brightness and vigor that Cohen applies to the tone follows the energy of the activists themselves.

Hart and Horowitz's script connects the dots on the meaning and messages of the film, which is thrilling in its radicalism. But the execution is heavy-handed, sapping the joy of discovery from the film packed with so much originality, brilliance and beauty to be discovered.

With a mix of old characters and new, worldly upheaval and small-town dramas, Fellowes illustrates what "Downton" has always done best, which is a social examination of how much things have changed and how they haven’t changed at all.

Anniversary is a deeply nihilistic film that can’t be described as a cautionary tale — that horse has left the barn. Rather, it’s a hypothetical question as character study, an examination of how this happens, and an assertion that a system like this shows no mercy, not even to its most loyal subjects, despite what we want to believe.

With a ruthlessly pared-down approach and compelling performer in Dynevor, who carries the film effortlessly, “Inheritance” is a throwback thriller that hearkens to the retro days of the Y2K era. And while its style eclipses its substance, it’s the style that makes this cinematic curio worth watching.

This touching and somewhat grotesque story is the perfect gateway for younger kids to dabble in more spooky, gothic content, as well as to take in the true lessons of Shelley’s original monster tale.

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.

Sollima’s style is cool and observational. There also are several stunts combined with camera movements that are genuinely jaw-dropping.

In remaining present, with the past and future swirling feverishly, the film is a deeply poignant and moving love letter to those that remain, who “rage, rage, against the dying of the light,” as Dylan Thomas once wrote. Someone’s got to make a stand for the last vestiges of the soul of New York City, and “Dreaming Walls” beautifully captures their fight and their dreams.

Unexpected is sweet and the portrait of the friendship is lovely, but it also feels too slight.

It’s the best film he’s made in years.

Despite the predictability of storytelling, The 33 is an undeniably rousing picture.

In F9, bonkers on top of bonkers results in a truly delightful and vividly sensorial time at the movies.

Hokum might start in a bleak place, and the entire experience might be profoundly, existentially bone-rattling, but McCarthy’s dark fable argues that opening yourself up to the forces beyond the veil might just shake something loose, and might heal something, opening up a space for hope — or at least a different kind of ending.

Executed with incredible craft and style and a whole lot of heart, Project Hail Mary verges on the edge of being too saccharinely sweet. But sci-fi can serve many different purposes for audiences, and maybe that sweetness, combined with a story of cooperation and collaboration for self-preservation, is just the kind of balm we need to take the edge off right now.

It's Hill who proves once again he's much more than his comedic origins, crafting a compelling portrayal of the elusive Donnie that just about steals the whole movie.

Harriet is a deeply spiritual film that asks the audience to take Harriet’s experience and religious beliefs at face value, but it’s fascinating to watch how Harriet’s faith in God evolves and expands to include faith in herself and her own power.

This high-concept romp demands an over-the-top and facile narrative, and some of the bits are a bit hackneyed, but Mafia Mamma is much more wacky, funny and violent than the too-tame trailers would have you believe. Collette goes for broke in her performance and Hardwicke juggles the tone, style and genre play with ease.

This is a solid and enjoyable mystery flick, but through all the twists, turns, tics and twitches Motherless Brooklyn works hard to impart its message. And what ultimately comes out is somewhat hollow.

The Accountant delivered a dependable ‘90s-style throwback action thriller and “The Accountant 2” is much the same, though it embraces a looser, more amusing tone, while playing in a story sandbox that looks like our world, with our issues: immigration, human trafficking, organized crime.

Johnson-McGoldrick’s facility with both the tropes of the "Conjuring" films, and the Warren’s relationship, keeps the film swift and emotionally resonant, while Chaves pushes the cinematic aesthetic to the max.

This sturdy, solid thriller underscores that at their core, survival stories are always stories of humanity’s best, and the impossible things we can achieve when we work together.

It’s an utterly fascinating, mysterious, and often experimental character study of someone who is hard to understand because they fundamentally don’t understand themselves.

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.

She’s spunky and hot-headed, he’s sweet and adorable — if they touch, it could be a disaster, but somehow, their chemistry just works, bringing the charming “Elemental” to a lively roiling boil.

It’s not just one film, or one election, or one win — it’s a movement, as the energized subjects keep repeating. “Justice is not a destination, it’s a journey,” is one of the many resonant quotes shared by one of Booker’s advisors and friends, and it’s a reminder that the fight is never-ending.

What Happens Later is so deeply heartfelt, and so beautifully performed, that it stirs something within — a hope, not necessarily for an airport rendezvous, but for a moment of healing, the kind that everyone desires and everyone deserves.

The lush production design by Zazu Myers, especially in the Chloe Hotel, and rich cinematography by Alar Kivilo make for a colorfully saturated fantasy of New York City that elevates the film. This is a big, juicy rom-com that has proven to be a rare entity these days on the big screen.

Executed and performed with precision, the focus is on the relationships, but not breaking the system itself. The message of The Long Walk is muddled, at once hopeful and despairing.

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

For such a sweet film, Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles evolves into a complex exploration of the symbiotic relationship between money and art, and questions what the visibility of that conspicuous consumption could portend.

Roofman is predominantly a one-man showcase for the full range of Tatum’s talents, but the entire ensemble is crucial for any good caper.

It is thought-provoking, to be sure, but does he finish the thought, or just provoke it?

Lean, mean and brutish, Nobody is best enjoyed as the juicy piece of pulp that it is. But Odenkirk, stepping into an action hero role for the first time, brings a sense of dolefulness and rue to this performance.

It becomes clear that Safdie is intentionally denying a big, flashy “win the game” kind of film, offering instead a cerebral examination of the quotidian, workmanlike drudgery of being a professional athlete who never became a superstar household name, still shouldering the work, the struggle, the bad days, quibbling over contracts and rules, taking every hit without complaint.

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.

While Bad Hair is more humorously incisive than truly terrifying, Lorraine, in the leading role, sells it, while Simien creates space to discuss the ways in which women enforce unfair standards of beauty on each other in a white patriarchal society, using the horror genre as a blunt but effective tool to clear the path.

Preparation for the Next Life is a powerful assertion of dreams, humanity and hard work — arguing that every person has a past, a future and a story to tell.

What makes Synchronic sing is the two together, zinging each other with sardonic one-liners, their conversations meandering to the cosmic and the macabre after a few whiskeys.

While the story lags and suffers in its attempt to adapt such a complicated internal narrative and personal struggle, the Smith brothers have created a truly beautiful and unique film that deserves to be seen; a creative accomplishment not only of filmmaking but of capturing this world.

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

Blackbird is a simple tale, well-told, but it’s also the tale of all tales, of life, death and everything in between.

Director Yann Demange's film White Boy Rick balances these details, both outlandish and intimate, carefully.

The true star of The Gift is Edgerton as director. His deft, controlled maneuvering of plot, character, style, and tone is damn near perfect for his feature debut — even if it is in service of a very standard genre piece.

The consciously campy A Simple Favor is as bright and bracing as an ice cold gin martini with a lemon twist, and just as satisfying.

Ultimately, all audiences can find something to enjoy in Zootopia, though adults may find more to sink their teeth into, which is always refreshing.

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

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.

Visceral and suspenseful, Hotel Mumbai is also deeply humane and moving, anchored by searing performances from Patel, Kher, Boniadi and Hammer.

The film takes a dark turn at the end, and while the two sides of Nasty Baby are interesting, well-made, and well-performed, they feel like two completely different movies.

House of Gucci is Gaga’s movie, and she won’t let you forget it. She delivers a bravura performance as Patrizia, an alchemical blend of sheer charisma, power of personality, undeniable magnetism, and most importantly, commitment to the bit.

While Grappe ultimately finds an ending that’s a bit pat, the power of the Ukrainian spirit comes through beautifully, underscoring the stakes of what is, and always will be, at hand for the country, now more than ever: identity, safety, and freedom.

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.

Bradley’s film is a lyrical documentary, a piece that feels like a poem or a prayer, an almost meditative experience, set to a plaintive piano score.

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.

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.

Jolie Pitt’s insistence on creating a piece that reflects the harsh inner state of a person suffering to understand herself as a wife and as a woman in the world is commendable, and fascinating in her growth as a filmmaker.

It’s a surprisingly trenchant story for what seems to be a slight genre thriller, but then again, genre thrillers can be the best vessels for these kinds of messages.

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.

It's the non-superhero elements of Spider-Man: Homecoming that make it a great movie, and a non-stop fun summer flick. There isn't an ounce of fat on this film, packing in so many story elements and characters, while finding room for small, funny asides and moments that make it an addictively rich, idiosyncratic and re-watchable movie.

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

It's "Veep," but less absurdly acid-tongued, and a lot more swoony. Still, the incisive cultural and political commentary cuts deep, and Theron and Rogen turn out to be a winning pair.

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.

This one rolls right over any doubters, powered by Bullock and Tatum, in a film that lets them play to their strengths.

Flanagan’s trick is simply how he imparts this eternal lesson to us: We know life will end, so how you spend the time is all that matters. It’s simple, and it may be delivered in a way that’s a bit too clever by half, but it’s still a gut punch, and a message worth absorbing now, and always.

Hellaware is a cynical, caustic, and often very funny send up of not only the current commercial art world but the entire borough of Brooklyn.

Much like its predecessor, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again is escapist fluff of the highest order — joyful, filled with beloved pop songs and incredibly bizarre. Go ahead and treat yourself to this raucous seaside summer confection, you deserve it.

There’s enough good humor and just a dash of vinegar to temper the tone from becoming too treacly or sentimental, though the triumphant moments are incredibly effective and moving.

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.

The story isn’t complicated, and it’s one we know well, rendered with spooky, atmospheric aesthetics and intensely gnarly violence that provide cover for the thin premise, nagging plot holes and flimsy characterization in the script, which traffics in poorly explained archetypes. It’s sufficient enough, but the strength of the filmmaking is not in the writing, but in Barker’s command of style, pace and performance.

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.

Home Again" is pure fantasy, all softly-lit, perfectly styled, looking like the cover of Sunset magazine. A world where a 40-year-old single mom is pursued by no fewer than four handsome men. But within that fantasy is also a wonderfully deft demonstration of feminine autonomy in matters of sex, love and marriage.

Proves to be more than just a gimmick, and it doesn't skimp on any of the quirky wackiness that you might expect from a film about blob-shaped, flightless birds battling pigs.

There’s no denying Jones’ magnetism, her amazing spirit and her otherworldly talent, and “Miss Sharon Jones!” is a fine tribute to her as an individual. But it leaves you wanting more — more from her history and rich backstory. It’s clear the whole story hasn’t been told — yet.

Wrath of Man feels like a homecoming for director and star, and an evolution, too. With Statham in the lead, playing one of his classically taciturn and tactically lethal action heroes, Ritchie is as restrained and controlled as he’s been in years.

As Chon calibrates a wide variety of emotions, allowing space for all the agonies, ecstasies, repressions and excesses, he crafts a tale of intergenerational traumas and personal redemptions that is an emotionally complicated yet ultimately cathartic viewing experience.

The song remains the same, but it’s all in the way you play it. Karia, Ahmed and Lesslie prove that "Hamlet" still hits after all these years.

This peek into a famous love story makes the audience a participant in the affair, inspiring questions of perspective and truth in love and art, where the only truth worth anything is one deeply felt.

The action in this live-action adaptation is sanded down and decidedly safe. Bobin loses the geographical thread in the film’s climax in and around Parapata, but it’s never about the visual thrills, it’s about the girl at the center of it all.

The film's flaws in pacing and suspense are easily overlooked in the shadow of Chastain's moving performance, as well as the performances of those around her. Caro unspools an evergreen tale about the clarifying power of empathy to diffuse fear and hatred.

The message itself is poignant, and never gets lost in the antics or humor.

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.

The failure of Morgan is in its lack of restraint. The first half of the film is as tightly controlled as the lab facility, with small moments of foreshadowing planted expertly, if obviously. The second half descends into a violent bloodbath, and the twists in the story that lie just below the surface waiting to be discovered are spoken aloud, taken from theory to fact

His latest film, Gold, directed by Stephen Gaghan, is his most extreme character work yet, with him playing a balding, paunchy, cigarette chomping gold prospector in the 1980s, and yet McConaughey is so good he makes it work.

Each sequence is cleverly planned and staged, but timing is everything, and the rhythm and cadence of the edit is perfectly executed by Sabrina Pitre.

Sleight fuses superhero story with a tough coming-of-age tale, and it enlivens and elevates both genres into something new and different, while heralding the arrival of Latimore as a star.

Starlet is an interesting effort from indie filmmaker Sean Baker (this is his fourth feature), and signals the arrival of Dree Hemingway as one to watch.

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.

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

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.

Wright makes the argument that in such a dystopian, fascist state, there are only a few things that will save us: class solidarity, physical media and literacy. It’s a powerful and potent message that cuts through any and all of the bombastic busyness of The Running Man.

In channeling his creative resources toward the sound of “Undertone,” Tuason conjures a lot out of a simple concept — a girl in a house. The marriage of this sound design to thoughtful, carefully placed camera movements makes for a horror film that’s a suspenseful slow burn.

With its unexpected story and businesslike filmmaking, Unlocked proves to be a satisfying thriller starring one of the most exciting current female action stars, who toils and shines in these workmanlike roles.

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

The revelation here is Vaughn, who in his 6-foot-5-inch frame, physically channels the body language and gestures of an otherwise petite, cowering teen.

This movie is either in your wheelhouse or it's not, but for those looking forward to Book Club, it delivers. For what it is — a breezy bit of Nancy Meyers-like fantasy, featuring four beloved actresses talking about sex, baby — it's exceedingly enjoyable.

How does it all end? Don’t go looking to Save Yourselves! for answers. It lands in an ambiguous middle that’s not too bleak or too hopeful and just falls flat; an exaggerated shrug.

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.

[Cameron's] anti-colonialist, pro-Indigenous cri de coeur is inspiring, if a bit on the nose, but we can forgive that, because the visual spectacle is just so breathtakingly beautiful, the emotional stakes palpable, and the intention is so earnest. It’s good to be back on Pandora.

Feig stylishly waltzes us through this steamy, twisty mystery with ease, but not necessarily sophistication — this is the kind of frothy entertainment that you can still enjoyably comprehend after a glass or two, which in fact might enhance the experience.

It may not work for everyone, but those for whom it works will find much to savor and puzzle over in The Turning.

Hart and Horowitz map this hero’s journey onto her growth as a mother, her empowerment proving to be a source not just of strength, but love — a rare commodity in a crime flick.

Folk Hero & Funny Guy is an amiable road movie powered by great music. But it’s much more than just that, with deeply felt, lived in emotions capturing the ups and downs of longterm friendships, the nervous spark of a new attraction, and the power of making amends.

Despite the somewhat bland nature of the storytelling — it’s not like this documentary is pushing the boundaries of the form — it’s an incredible true story told with care and skill.

The style is busy, Affleck laying a heavy hand on the ’80s references and music cues, Robert Richardson’s cinematography mimicking the amateurish style of someone with a brand-new camcorder. But the pace flies, and the actors make the film wildly engaging.

Tangling reality and fiction into one impossible knot is at the core of this story, and the form follows that function.

The Moment works best when examining the creative tensions between people with different agendas, the small passive-aggressive tensions and second-guessing generating the ripples of conflict. But perhaps Zamiri felt those stakes were too small.

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.

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.

The edgy and explicit Pillion might be set within the parameters of a relationship that many would consider “alternative,” but the heart of it is the same as any love story that becomes a lesson in self-love.

The lessons of compassion and empathy are profound, and remind us that tales of good triumphing over evil are evergreen, even when it doesn’t seem to be reflected in the world around us.

While McAvoy is known for his dramatic roles, and as the young Charles Xavier in the "X-Men" franchise, he's delightful when let off the leash and allowed to show off his loud, campy, unhinged side.

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.

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.

The torment that Maud is put through is devastating, but Suffragette, as a film, often robs itself of its own emotional power.

Jane is a genius, but she's deeply flawed and complicated, struggling with substance abuse, mental illness, her own past regrets. That dark underbelly adds depth and dimension to the ironic humor of Our Brand is Crisis.

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.

Finn brings bigger, and even more effective, jump scares than the last time, which will keep the popcorn flying. The sound design booms and rattles, the delusions are even more elaborate, and the body horror is even bloodier and more disturbing.

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.

It's a thrill to watch it unfold, but the slick filmmaking combined with familiar tropes precludes most spontaneity.

Upgrade is a brutish, efficient and well-executed slice of cyberpunk action horror with a silly streak.

The film swerves from sci-fi to horror to psychological thriller to melodrama, but in a way, it works. It’s clear Abramenko wants to serve a full-course meal of a movie, and in stretching the dynamic range of emotion he hits on moments that are at times operatic and at others somewhat soapy. But in doing so, brings a new layer of story that makes Sputnik feel epic.

Highest 2 Lowest has its highs and lows, and when the highs are high, it soars. Those pesky lows are certainly hard to shake though.

To consider the long-standing Bourj al Barajneh is to consider the true humanity of refugees, who have hopes, dreams, lives to live and work to do. “Soufra” efficiently and effectively illustrates those ideas.

It is significant that in this vision of revisionist revenge, the ones who prevail against the Nazis are those who would be marginalized and targeted by them — along with their allies. For all its bloody cacophony, Overlord doesn't lose sight of its heroes.

In many ways, it feels like the midcentury pulp thrillers it emulates: well-plotted and grisly, but almost ephemeral. It is Lane’s performance that lingers, one that dares to be uniquely hopeful about the future, and letting the old ways die.

"Wereskunk” only wavers when it slips from the style of the era, with the usage of digital special effects or the odd modern reference. When it stays in the unique lane it’s established for itself, it’s plenty of silly retro fun.

While the pace of “Sadie” meanders and is often a bit pokey, the excellent cast, including Danielle Brooks as Carla, the local bartender and Rae’s best friend, brings your attention fully to the dramatic goings-on in this tiny community.

Cinematically, there isn't much of a breakthrough, or breaking of a mold, when it comes to how these stories are told. But what distinguishes the film is the daring depiction of a complex, flawed, fierce and faithful woman.

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.

Chopra and Akhtar have great chemistry, and though the nonlinear storytelling is somewhat unnecessary, Bose deftly manages the challenging tonal shifts within this lengthy film that never drags.

Paddington in Peru is still incredibly touching in its story of acceptance from both found family and birth family. It’s still silly and amusing with a childlike innocence and purity of heart that appeals to both kids and adults. It still pays homage to film history in a way that will delight cinephiles. But having seen the heights of “Paddington 2,” this third installment could only pale in comparison.

Sand Dollars has an assured, light touch.

What emerges is a portrait of doctors and staff who work hard to do the right thing for their patients and the babies, who have no voice. It is life, fought for and forged in the most difficult of circumstances.

Keshavarz spins a lot of plates in The Persian Version and we can see the effort, but she keeps them all in the air.

It's a cute movie with genuinely funny moments (keep an eye out for the koala car wash), and some great tunes to boot.

These filmmakers clearly have a knack for capturing nautical adventure and the delusional yet undeniably human desire to conquer the seas.

Anchored by a quartet of fierce performances, “Donnybrook” is an intense, visceral tone poem, a rumination on money and drugs and bloodshed as a means of making ends meet in the heartland of modern America.

Wheatley’s film works on a purely elemental level; like nature itself, the film is a sensory event, the narrative often subsumed by the aural and visual experience.

The greatest strength of Office Christmas Party is its casting. If you’ve got fabulous weirdos Kate McKinnon and T.J. Miller in lead roles, there are bound to be more than enough laughs.

Unleashed, written and directed by Finn Taylor, works because of the collective commitment to the magical realism on-screen.

The lack of a strong narrative through-line makes for a film that is informative but dry. Nevertheless, it is an urgent plea for us all to make conscious choices in our consumption.

The script has a certain memoiristic quality that would edge into self-indulgence if McGhee and Stonebraker weren’t such warm and disarming presences on screen.

The film flies but never lets any emotional weight fully land.

Leyser’s film is an important document capturing the influence of queercore, an underground movement that enjoys life on the fringes, where identifying as an anti-establishment “arty weirdo” is just as important as sexuality.

There’s enough verve in the concept and performances — and in debuting feature-maker Williams’ exuberant direction — to carry Lisa Frankenstein through.

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.

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

Behrman has crafted a classic high school tale of outsiders finding themselves while looking in, bullied and beaten for daring to “experiment,” to be different. The images are sumptuously saturated and gorgeously crafted, and the soundtrack thrums and whines with anxiety and racing pulse.

It’s an artful, boundary-pushing debut from Radcliff and Wolkstein, with breakthrough performances from Freedson-Jackson, and Pettyfer, perhaps signaling a new direction in his career.

What always rings loud and clear and true is the formidable Adams. When given a red-meat role of physicality and nuance — animalized, her eyes swinging between adoration and primitive fire — she can handle whatever Nightbitch needs to be at any given moment: light and funny, dark and stormy, feral and furious, and all combinations therein.

There’s a hushed profundity, especially in Binoche and Fiennes’ performances, expressing the kind of unspeakable grief and trauma one brings home from the battlefield, and what those who remain home suffer in absence.

While A Nightmare in Las Vegas is sometimes rough around the edges, it's intensely compelling and isn't afraid to demand answers to questions that seem to have gone unasked. In many ways, it's a first step in processing the enormity of this event.

Tonally, M.F.A is sometimes jarring, as these outrageous, fantastical killings are motivated by authentic, grounded emotions. But at the center, Eastwood is absolutely riveting, inhabiting a true violent vigilante worth rooting for.

This visual and aural feast does have a stumble or two on the dance floor, though in the 11th hour, Wright manages to right the ship, with an assist from the ever-reliable Taylor-Joy.

Writer-director Dalio has firsthand experience with bipolar disorder, and his perspective sheds fresh light on the unique ways in which manic-depressive individuals experience love and creativity.

Stone had the right instincts about the part — she inhabits Senna beautifully, and her performance anchors the light-as-air All I Wish. It's the perfect role for her to sink her teeth into, sexy and fun, but she brings a sense of real intelligence and soulfulness to the character. That's true star power.

Oyelowo and Mara's riveting, embodied performances rise above the material.

Director Natalia Leite brings an emotional intelligence and sensitivity to Bare that raises it above its smutty late-night cable premise of a small-town girl falling into a lesbian affair and exploring the world of stripping.

Though the first half of the film is far more interesting than the overwrought melodrama that it becomes, Sky remains a deeply compelling and optimistic valentine to the possibilities of the West.

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.

The events of Woodstock have been told, so it’s refreshing that this documentary draws out the details one might not have heard before — the food donations from the town, the volunteer Army doctors, the attendees who stayed to pick up trash.

The premise of My Happy Ending is somewhat slight, but there’s nothing insubstantial about a woman coming to a profound realization about her life thanks to a surprising encounter with unexpected new allies.

Among all the loquacious chaos, Nat steals the film with the quieter performance as the pained, soulful and deeply feeling Jack.

The film can feel like an infomercial for the foundation, but that doesn't stop the power of the stories from coming through.

This odd friendship dramedy has its winning moments, thanks to a fine cast, including Eric Roberts and Marguerite Moreau, and a bold visual design that underlines the quirky and fantastical tone.

Shoplifters of the World, in fact, belongs to Cleo, not just because Howard is such a dizzyingly charismatic actress but because her story, which unfolds parallel to Dean’s, is a heartfelt coming-of-age drama that perfectly embodies the youthful angst, ennui and romantic longing expressed so well in the music of the Smiths.

The singular aesthetic is gritty, beautiful and expressive, and somehow, you want to root for the love story of Eli and Anya, thanks to the charismatic performances of Nicholson and Lopez.

Sharrock’s directing is unshowy, focused on the characters and performance moments that make this film a simple, yet effectively moving story about dreaming of a life beyond the walls, something we can all appreciate at this particular moment.

It's satisfying, charming and surprising — a film that keeps its supernatural elements grounded in reality, with the focus on the spirituality of true love.

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.

Despite the melodrama, the connections these women forge are heartfelt and earned.

The twists and turns of this stylish and well-acted if minor thriller bring Sonny to unexpected yet apt conclusions.

It’s not an intimate portrait of the woman, but a celebration of the sex-positive, taboo-breaking image she created for herself and the way she rocked American culture during a hugely transitional moment.

Longinotto’s film is a rollicking depiction of the wonderfully self-possessed Battaglia.

Although every cinematic experiment and story beat doesn’t always work, Hot Summer Nights is downright intoxicating, oozing with panache and sensuality from every pore.

A detailed and affable exploration of this world, This One’s for the Ladies is so unabashedly sex-positive you just might want to find the closest all-male revue.