Katie Walsh

After Tiller is not an important film just because of its political and cultural relevance, but because of its humane and compassionate approach to telling the stories of these doctors, their work and the women that they seek to help.

Dead Lover, in all its stinky, sexy, queer and grotesque glory, is one of the grossest and loveliest films about love I’ve ever seen. This one’s for the horny, hopeless goth inside all of us.

A film like Sing Sing is a rare, precious achievement — a cinematic work of unique empathy and hand-turned humanity, hewed from the heart, with rigorous attention paid to the creative process.

McCarthy is exceptional as the irascible Lee, and her skill in a dramatic role should be no surprise. Her performance is detailed, nuanced and subtly affecting, while Grant brings the relief as the tragicomic Jack, who showboats in circles around McCarthy, who's in the straight man role for a change.

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.

The love story that is The Eight Mountains expresses this ineffable relationship between those who know us best and the places in which we find ourselves with a rough-hewed grace and profound knowingness.

A cinematic delicacy as rare as the truffle itself.

It is startling, and sometimes disturbing, but hits a place that is intensely human — bittersweet and bloody and beautiful at once, and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It is potentially the most culturally relevant film of the fall, masterfully made and one heck of an emotional roller coaster. From moment to moment Boys State veers from exciting to troubling to amusing, and it's never anything less than utterly riveting.

In only an hour and 24 minutes, Glass has crafted a film rich in history, reference, psychology, spirituality, style and even some gore, but it never overstays its welcome, recognizing that less is more.

A truly inspirational, emotional and profoundly moving film.

Simply put, Samsara tells the story of our world, but onscreen, it is so much more than that.

Though it’s dealing with difficult subject matter, the film teems with life throughout every funny, bittersweet, and wild moment, slapping a smile on your face that won’t go away and you don’t know why.

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.

This film is an important historical record, and an important reminder of an event in American history that could have changed everything, that should have changed everything. There’s no reason why it still can’t. Newtown is a crucial reminder of that.

Not that it was ever in question, but 28 Years Later is an invigorating reminder that Boyle, as a technician of dizzying, daring cinematic style, has never lost his fastball, and he employs it to great effect emphasizing Spike’s visceral emotional experience.

Zola’s authorship and Bravo’s respect for her storytelling make Zola a wholly original experience. It’s a brutally honest account of sex work, often dangerous and infrequently sexy, punctuated with Zola’s one-liners, observations and recounting of laugh-out-loud moments.

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.

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.

While Another Round inspects the varying effects of alcohol on daily life, it’s far from clinical. Waves of ebullience, love, humor and sorrow crash on top of each other, as anyone who’s ever been overserved can attest to. It isn’t prescriptive about drinking, and doesn’t seek to impart any message other than that life is hard, and sometimes dark, and sometimes ecstatically beautiful.

Park’s mastery of tone reflects his mastery of cinematic craft, which has only become more surgically refined in the past few years.

What a wonder that the film adaptation of Judy Blume’s beloved 1970 young adult novel Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret is as lovely, heartfelt and, indeed, deeply radical as the original text.

It's a moving portrait of sisterhood, a celebration of a fierce femininity and a damning indictment of patriarchal systems that seek to destroy and control this spirit.

Hadaway’s previous career as a sound editor is all over this piece, as is her personal experience as a collegiate rower. She has crafted this film as catharsis, and like her protagonist’s journey, it’s both harrowing and triumphant.

Short Term 12 is a roller coaster of every emotion, managing to be both heartwarming and heartrending at once.

Crafted with care and a distinct point of view, Between the Temples is the kind of film that bears rewatching just because you want to spend more time with its idiosyncratic rhythm and energy. Singing in its own key, there might not be a more authentic and purely entertaining film this year.

The film strongly asserts Ronstadt’s rock ’n’ roll bona fides as a trailblazing and wildly successful solo female artist in the man’s world of late ’60s and early ’70s country rock.

What happens in Night of the Kings is a piece of traditional oration and impermanent art, significantly marked by both its temporal and improvisational qualities. It’s both a power struggle and a ritual practiced by the collective within a microcosm of society housed under the oppression of the state, and a powerful demonstration of the transporting, and liberating, power of narrative.

Maiden is a grand adventure, the likes of which we don’t always see too often anymore.

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.

Sophy Romvari’s luminous debut feature “Blue Heron” is a loving and studious act of remembrance.

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

The tension never lets up throughout Longlegs, though it is peppered with a dry, black humor that somehow just makes everything more disturbing.

Heineman has a unique ability to condense and explain complicated information and political events without straying from the deeply personal journeys of his subjects or relying on talking heads or text.

Catherine Called Birdy is Dunham’s best writing and directing work yet; it’s an easy breezy, emotional good time, and an instant teen classic.

With Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising, they've flipped the script, creating a feminist party classic that's completely current and doesn't skimp on any of the wild humor. It's also even better than its predecessor.

The combination of compelling subject with an exciting and expert approach to documentary form achieves that transcendence you hope for in this genre: a melding of subject and text that is its own beast but also perfectly reflect each other.

Within "Housekeeping’s” restless, naturalistic aesthetic, Stolevski crafts complex and poignant images, contrasting the playacting the couple is forced to do with their searing gazes.

For Mendonça Filho, who has poured his love for his city, his country and its people into this masterpiece of a film, his favorite way to process anything is through making and watching movies. It’s his best film, and the best film of the year.

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

Humanity permeates Cameraperson, thanks to Johnson’s presence, so as experimental as it is, it’s also stirring and poignant, with a tangible sense of empathy intact in every frame.

Gripping, incisive and shockingly powerful, Collective is easily the documentary of the year.

One of the best documentaries, and best films, of the year, it is required viewing for anyone with a desire for making their own world a better place, inspiring you to act up and fight back.

Black Bag may be rooted in the mind, but it is inextricably connected to the heart, especially in matters of love and trust, betrayal and murder. That’s what makes a Soderbergh genre exercise such a deliciously satisfying cinematic morsel: It is pure fun, but also deeply layered with larger existential themes, making for a delightful romantic spy drama that cannot be missed.

With impeccable craft, Wang has created a funny, heartfelt and bittersweet film that will ring riotously true for anyone who knows the joys and agonies of a large, complicated family, regardless of culture, ethnicity or nationality.

Inspirational, entertaining, and absolutely awards-caliber (from first-time director Karasawa), Elaine Stritch: Shoot Me offers up an indelible and rare experience in cinematic form—it’s simply an absolute treat to be able to spend this much intimate time with such a legendary lady.

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.

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.

Pribar’s humane and heartbreaking drama is beautifully photographed and performed; a loving, warm, and even sexy film about death and dying that is teeming with life.

Despite all the limitations on her life, Rose-Lynn is one of the most free-spirited creatures to ever be put on film.

One Battle After Another isn’t just an explosive revolutionary text but a story of fatherhood — the values we pass down to the next generation, and how we care for them, with love and generosity; with fear, anxiety, a little bit of hope, and above all, a whole lot of faith.

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

Marty Supreme is a truly staggering American epic about finally learning that hustle is never going to love you back — even if chasing it can be a thrill, at least for a moment. In this anxiety-riddled portrait of the corrosive nature of American capitalism, sports is merely the vessel, but it’s still the kind of movie that will make you want to stand up and cheer.

What can we impart to future generations? Can we trust them to keep the balance of the universe? These big questions drive the meaning and the purpose of The Boy and the Heron, yet another masterpiece from Miyazaki that helps us to see the beauty of life around us and contemplate the future of the universe more profoundly.

This film may be fantastical, outré, at times bizarre, and sexually frank. But ultimately, Poor Things is a traditional heroine’s journey forging its own singular path. That Bella achieves a fully embodied sense of personal liberation makes it a truly radical — and feminist — fairy tale.

Anderson hasn’t just delivered his best film in years — he’s also managed to capture the zeitgeist in his own unique way.

It’s the faces that stand out in Retrograde, a stylistic and thematic motif that offers an empathetic power to the film as well as an aching poignancy.

If there’s any criticism to be levied, it’s just that we wanted to see more dance, which can’t quite be fully captured on film, only in person. Still, capturing Streb’s artistry, inspiration and thought processes behind her work makes it more than worthwhile.

Heineman, in placing himself in such danger, has managed to create a remarkable and distinctive film that takes on a difficult issue that cannot be so conveniently remedied or ignored.

That a documentary about economics could be so personally emotional and affecting is remarkable. And to learn from Reich in this film, as his students at Berkeley do, is a treat and a privilege.

Utilizing underseen subjects, [Baker] captures their world in a thoughtful and artful way, and it also happens to be a damn fun ride.

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

A vibrant and vital tribute to a piece of recording and rock history that could have been lost to the ether, and Grohl packages the story of this little studio with a detailed celebration of the craft and skill necessary to this kind of recording, all with a killer soundtrack (which should go without saying).

Anchored by career-best performances from Long and Rossum, and a juicy script that bravely dives into the darkest parts of breaking up and making up, Comet is an original and inventive retelling of an age-old and universal truth.

In Western, the filmmaking philosophy remains the same, but the subject is new and different, and the storytelling is deeper, nuanced, and honed by experience.

A truly moving and edifying film, Rich Hill is the type of media object that could and should be put in a time capsule for future generations.

On the surface, Grandma is a simple story, but the script imbues it with deep reserves of emotional depth and meaning that are slowly, organically revealed over the course of the plot.

It’s clear that the Panther legacy lives on, and Nelson’s film is a necessary primer for understanding the party — in it’s own words.

It’s timely, it’s entertaining, it’s a blast of energy, but Weiner also drills down into the unique nature of American politics in the media saturated, smartphone-enhanced, Twitter hot-takes age.

It’s a curious, infuriating and haunting tale, and an accomplishment of documentary filmmaking.

It’s an incredibly moving film that encompasses a wide scope of global issues through the intimate remembrance of one life.

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.

Algorithms is a completely unique film, unlike any other documentary you might see this year, both for its content and its form.

While the film is hysterical, its real strength lies in the way it is able to deal with an issue like sexism in the industry and work it out in a funny, honest and very real way.

Anchored by a quartet of equally strong and understated performances by Hemingway, Stanfield, Wisdom, and Dillon, Live Cargo proves itself to be a singularly artful film of great emotional heft.

The Overnighters is starkly bleak and devastatingly humane, and an indelible American documentary.

It’s a fascinating look not only at this particular character and his wide reach, but at the evolution of the Internet, its utopian possibilities for connection, and the dark side of its power to expose and harm individuals within the system.

It Felt Like Love, marks the arrival of a new crop of talent to watch, behind the camera and in front.

This is avant-garde autobiographical filmmaking at its finest, and the results are stunningly beautiful, and achingly emotional within a lyrical and dreamlike aesthetic.

Ruby Sparks hits that sweet emotional spot much in the same way "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" does. While you are at once charmed by the whimsy and romance, there's still a gut punch of emotional rawness just waiting to be delivered.

This is a beautifully life-affirming fable about the power of art to heal, but really, it’s the people making the art that do the work. Ghostlight is a stunning and incredibly moving tribute to that process.

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.

Beautiful gems of wisdom and life lessons are contained within Buena Vista Social Club: Adios. The picture is an edifying celebration of this music, humanizing and contextualizing it beyond its popularity, locating its roots within a history informed by politics, colonialism, oppression, and racism.

This wildly entertaining eco-feminist crime caper, anchored by a winning lead performance from Agnieszka Mandat, isn’t just worth the wait, it’s an imperative watch.

The story is simple but what makes the film remarkable is how Haley effortlessly, earnestly marshals performance, tone and style.

Izaac Wang’s performance of this tortured teenage soul — so young, still in braces — is a sensitive expression of the insecurity Chris feels around others and anxiety about how he will be perceived. Wang’s performance is mirrored by Chen as his mother, a housewife with an artist’s heart. She delicately balances steeliness and vulnerability to deliver a heartrending performance.

Klondike is certainly not an easy watch, but it is a profound one — a film that feels both prescient and retrospective about Ukraine, locked in what seems a never-ending existential conflict with its neighbor.

This is a definitive statement of what Carmichael can do as a director, transcending the small scope of the film into something grander and more epic.

In the Christmas zombie teen musical Anna and the Apocalypse, a whole lot of genre is stuffed into one neat little package, and happily, giddily, it is perfectly executed, landing like a triumphant triple axel splattered in gore, and wrapped in tinsel.

It is an elegy wrapped around a true-crime story; an observational social-justice movie intertwined with an historical retelling that finds the universal in the specific. In braiding these strands together, Brown crafts a film that isn’t one thing or the other but instead dares to contain multitudes.

Firecrackers isn’t just a confident feature debut from Mozaffari, but a daring one, the kind of fast and furious feminine filmmaking that heralds the arrival of several exciting new talents.

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

With care, thoughtfulness and rigor, Schrader and the filmmakers of She Said craft a film that shows the process of building this paradigm-shifting piece of journalism in a manner that is simultaneously thrilling and grindingly methodical, aided greatly by Nicholas Britell’s score.

The twists and turns of the story keep you on your toes until the very end, never giving anything away. The verbal blows drop as fast as the bodies, and if British aristocrats fighting over money, beautifully, is your thing, Crooked House will more than satisfy, it will thrill.

All This Panic is a deeply felt tribute to youth but also to growing up; it’s a time capsule of a fleeting, fragile moment when angst is mixed with beauty and everything seems ripe with potential.

The Dancer is such a bold and assured film, wildly creative and sensual, that it feels far more sophisticated than a debut, and signals Di Giusto as one to watch.

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.

Writer-director Chen, along with the two leads, delicately navigates this story, and the result is something deeply humanist and nuanced rather than sensational, though the rainy milieu adds drama to the proceedings.

The film is a vital historical corrective, inscribing the names of these women into history as the innovators, independent thinkers and trailblazers they were.

It's a fascinating exploration of the things that can thrive in the soil of a jealous mind, fertilized by suspicion and a lack of sight.

The electrifying Northern Soul captures the 1970s British club scene of the same name with ethnographic detail and ebullient style.

This is the finest work of Arcel’s collaboration with longtime cinematographer Rasmus Videbæk. They craft this Nordic western epic with an eerie beauty and an eye toward the kind of startling violence that can erupt unexpectedly in lawless frontiers.

Wildly entertaining, deeply humanitarian and fundamentally educational film.

The entire piece is precisely woven together, from script to performance to execution, and the result is a chilling study of emotional annihilation and its aftermath.

While the situation seems at times dire, Trapped contains a distinct hopeful streak that is at once defiant and singularly human.

There’s an immensity to the small dramas of this awkward in-between stage, where Microbe and Gasoline revel in no longer being boys, but not yet men. Gondry brings a sense of heartfelt nostalgia, pathos and humor to this portrait of a short, unique adolescent moment.

This wild, vicarious ride through youthful adventure is absolutely worth taking, for your own nostalgia and for the reminder that the kids are indeed alright.

Wildlike is an uncommon and deeply sensitive take on this type of story.

At the center of Baz Luhrmann’s sprawling pop epic Elvis, a film as opulent and outsize as the King’s talent and taste, Butler delivers a fully transformed, fully committed and star-making turn as Elvis Presley. The rumors are true: Elvis lives, in Austin Butler.

What Arnold manages to make tangibly cinematic in Cow is the soulful spirituality of these animals, their beauty and their emotions. It is as moving as it is devastating, and although this film requires patience and fortitude, it rewards with a singular and perspective-shifting cinematic experience.

There’s a salve-like quality to Jane Austen Wrecked My Life, a balm for any battered romantic’s soul. It may be utter fantasy, but it’s the kind of escape you’ll want to revisit again and again, like a favorite Austen novel.

Sometimes it's those with the hardest struggles in life who remember to appreciate life more than anyone else. This message comes through loud and clear in Cary Bell's documentary, Butterfly Girl.

It's a very, very funny film but also sweetly sad and poignant, echoing the mix of humor and pathos that marks a New Yorker cartoon exactly what it is.

I Am Another You is a remarkably sensitive and lovely portrait of an individual, a family, and a life that shines an uncommonly humane light on the issues of mental illness and homelessness.

In following this couple, Jin’s film celebrates the wonder and magic of every single life; finding the extraordinary in the ordinary.

It's a viewing experience that's challenging, unflinching and deeply honest.

It’s almost unbelievable that Carney pulls off films like this, which could easily tip over into maudlin. Instead, the winning Flora and Son is an utterly irresistible emotional ear-worm.

Charlie Says is a fascinating and feminist exploration of Manson’s first victims: the girls themselves.

Full Time . . . depicts the never-ending sprint that is Julie’s life as a struggling single mom, rendering this social-realist drama as a gritty, heart-pounding thriller, with breathless, naturalistic handheld cinematography by Victor Seguin and an adrenaline-pounding electronic score by Irène Drésel.

The utterly winning documentary The Anthropologist takes a unique perspective on the field of anthropology through the lens of a pair of female anthropologists and their daughters.

The rousing Indian drama Lipstick Under My Burkha, co-written and directed by Alankrita Shrivastava, takes on the repressive traditions around gender and sexuality in that country with refreshing candor and humor.

Hanging over the narrative is a sense of futility, that this can and will happen again and again. Another lawsuit, another life lost, another workaround. But for a moment, one man on a bike with a few expertly wielded weapons can wreak holy havoc on corrupt cops, and damn does it feel good to watch.

From crisp academic arguments to sick burns, words spew, stutter, and startle, and as delivered by a totally committed Worthy, a soulful Jackie Long, and a posse of actors and rappers from the scene, the wordplay is dizzying, mesmerizing and intoxicating.

The cystic fibrosis-themed romantic drama Five Feet Apart feels like a real evolution in the sick teen movie genre, because it’s actually a great movie that just happens to be about sick teens, and it doesn’t condescend or try to cheer up anyone.

The film’s quiet impact comes as it leads us along John’s journey to understanding this disability as an unexpected, but ultimately accepted, gift.

Even if Chung does leave us wanting just a little bit more romance, he delivers a supremely entertaining summer blockbuster in Twisters, one with a thematic heft that makes it even better than expected, and better than the first.

This rape revenge story swaps points of view, but it doesn't break the mold. The characters, archetypes and beats are familiar, which allows Fargeat to play with symbolism in a bold, pointed manner.

When JR turns his gaze toward a person and pastes their image on a wall, he’s inviting others not just to participate in this project but also to look their way, to pay attention to someone or something by seeing it differently in the world. It takes a village, but all they need is paper and glue.

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

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.

Unrest is a sensitive and arresting rally cry for increased awareness about this disease, and an existential exploration of the meaning of life while battling a crippling chronic illness.

This riveting documentary should be required viewing for all.

The beguiling documentary Chicken People proves that truth is not only stranger than fiction, but often more poignant and illuminating as well.

The film is a harrowing and eerie horror fairy tale from another time, even as it feels startlingly fresh and always unpredictable.

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

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.

Lindon’s youth is remarkable, because her point of view on the experience of the teenage girl is so immediate. But such a confident and self-assured debut would be remarkable for a filmmaker of any age, as “Spring Blossom” is a finely wrought, sensitively felt and artistically bold work.

Jinn is a familiar story, told in a cultural context rarely depicted on film, and Mu’min’s approach is so lyrical and empathetic that it feels completely fresh and new. It’s a remarkable film with sensitive and stirring turns by Renee and Missick in the mother-daughter roles.

The film is utterly absorbing, anchored by the unpredictable performance of Taylor, playing a hopelessly complicated, but deeply caring woman.

Though I Am Evidence processes a tremendous amount of data and information, it’s a deeply personal and intimate film. However distressing it may be, it leaves room for hope.

It’s a war cry that’s simultaneously a galvanizing call to action, a message of hope and a reminder that a different world is possible.

Nathaniel, a native of Pakistan, has delivered a stunning, emotive work that takes to task oppressive patriarchy. It's a gorgeous, suspenseful cinematic achievement.

It is indeed harrowing to watch — to bear witness — and while the film is inevitably heavy with existential dread, Pritz delivers an emotionally engaging story filled with heart, heroes, and a bit of hope to hold onto. There is no more urgent film that demands your attention this year.

Like leading lady Williams, the exterior of The Perfection is flawless, covering up the darkness that lies beneath. The wild ride in store is both supremely disturbing and unpredictable. But rendered with such care, skill and sheer glee — it’s utterly divine.

It's simply a treat to watch Sandberg's style on display in Annabelle: Creation, filled with circling dolly shots that reveal and conceal evil in torturously teasing ways, effective narrative use of practical lighting for dramatic effect, and heart-pounding sound effects and a score of screaming strings.

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.

The Forty-Year-Old-Version is that rarest of films: funny, wry, incisive, sexy and sincere.

A breathlessly beautiful achievement not just in animation but also comic book movie storytelling, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is willing to shred the lore from top to bottom and weave it back together again in new, surprising and wildly entertaining ways. It’s simply spectacular.

It's a wonderful New York story, and Eastwood takes care to make it a story about the many different people who made it a miracle. That is the emotional core of the film, a celebration of the simple act of reaching out a helping hand without a second thought.

As an actor, Fraser’s second act has been a sight to behold, and he is the emotional anchor of this wonderfully life-affirming and quietly resonant film about the importance of being together that announces Hikari as a major talent to watch.

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.

It’s his own words, and confronting them now, having lost many of his friends to spats and fights, brings Crosby to his most vulnerable place.

It can be a rare occurrence to find a kid-friendly animated film these days that actually surprises and delights. Dreamworks' Abominable, written and co-directed by Jill Culton, does indeed surprise and delight, all while following a familiar hero's journey tale that borrows from favorite friendly creature films.

Talk To Me isn’t just a splashy debut for the Philippou brothers, who prove their filmmaking chops in making the leap from the small screen to the big. It’s also an incredible introduction to a remarkable actress in a role that will undoubtedly prove to be an instant classic horror movie heroine.

Reynolds and Mendelsohn could not be more different actors, but in this pairing they are perfect.

Cregger slowly builds bone-chilling and suspenseful sequences up to screechingly operatic moments of face-melting horror, and then swiftly cuts to a different chapter, making a hard left into a completely different mode, taking us all on the roller-coaster ride. His facility with comedy also aids in these jarring tone switches, and Barbarian is as funny as it is terrifying.

Although The Fight is swift and jam-packed with ups, downs, wins, losses, injunctions, stays, hearings and Trump speeches, the film is remarkably detailed and careful.

It’s an exhilarating cinematic experience, whether you’re an Elvis fan or not — but Luhrmann makes sure you are by the end.

The film is shockingly violent and bloody, but there are also profoundly poetic moments and images that pop up like wildflowers in a field.

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

Incisive, insightful and very funny.

Pietro Marcello’s sweeping historical Italian epic Martin Eden is a whole lot of movie. It possesses a weight and heft, both cinematically and philosophically, that make it a rare treat. And at the center of the film is a whole lot of movie star: Luca Marinelli’s performance in the title role is an outstanding star turn for the Italian actor.

It is so much more than just melodrama — it is myth-making on a grand yet intimate scale, a film that attempts to express a small sliver of the Von Erich legend, and beautifully does justice to Kevin’s personal journey.

What keeps Hoppers from drifting into Pollyanna-ish sensibility is its charming spikiness, and embrace of the weird, wacky and witty as it unfurls a high-tech action thriller about a strange, if brief, merging of the human and animal worlds.

Coogler has delivered one of the best blockbusters of the year, and that it has a heart and brain behind all the blood-drenched thrills just makes it that much more satisfying.

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

Anatomy of a Fall is anchored by the powerfully present Hüller, who bleeds and breathes into the environment, even as she stands out.

The moments between mother and son are some of the most intimate and moving of the film.

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

Whipsawing between hope and devastation, Queen & Slim speaks to this specific cultural moment. It's not with a grounded realism, but with an almost operatic sense of melodrama, in the writing, performances and with Matsouka's daring cinematic style, where beauty and politics are inextricably intertwined.

Sophisticated management of tone makes Two of Us rich and nuanced, complex and utterly heartbreaking. Within the folds of the film, simultaneously a love story, thriller and tragedy, nearly anyone can find an anchor, or a wound. It illustrates with devastating clarity what a mess secrets can make, and how one errant, unpredictable thread can unravel any carefully calibrated lie.

What a deliciously demented and disturbing drama Nicolas Pesce's Piercing is, dripping with gore and laden with forbidden innuendo.

Dickinson, who became a heartthrob in movies like “Beach Rats,” “Triangle of Sadness” and “Babygirl,” announces that he’s much more than a pretty face, he’s got something to say, and the message of humanist compassion he delivers in “Urchin” is incredibly powerful.

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

At the center, the true general, Prince-Bythewood, marshals every aspect of The Woman King in concert, conducting action, thrills and emotion beautifully. It is a remarkable, powerful film, and not to be missed.

Working with the legends of his long career to operationalize his past, Almodóvar crafts a singularly unique and medium-specific autobiography in which cinema is inextricably linked to his own story, to his heart, soul and body.

Equally enchanting and disturbing in its unique blend of magical and social realism, “Is God Is” is a highly stylish and daring announcement of a new cinematic talent in Harris, who has been allowed to fully express her vision, uncompromising and entirely hers.

Covino’s filmmaking is tremendously appealing, buoyant and playful, and in Splitsville, he dials everything up from The Climb, especially the comedy.

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

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.

In teasing out the complex relationship between life and death in relationship to birth and “Frankenstein,” Moss presents a provocative existential quandary and reminds us that horror stories have been women’s stories all along.

It's a refreshing spin on this type of film that's usually quite white and heteronormative.

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.

The perfect bait-and-switch of a film. Its light, sweetly frisky exterior and easygoing pace camouflages what a subtle and brilliant piece of bracing social commentary it is; a deft portrait of sisterhood existing under the thumb of capitalistic patriarchy.

It places a modern lens on complicated questions of art, love and perspective in storytelling, in an entertaining and intelligent thriller of intimate proportions.

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.

In Zappa, this legendary artist’s uncompromising nature is bracing, bold and utterly refreshing.

There’s an important lesson at the center of Song Sung Blue, about abandoning self-consciousness in a relentless pursuit of a dream. Despite the obstacles, their age, the setbacks, there is a pot of gold, not at the end of the rainbow but within it, in their shared dream.

Somehow, An Inconvenient Sequel is empowering, not depressing.

In 95 minutes, Ford unfurls a gritty and suspenseful L.A. noir that also serves to examine the structural issues that uphold wealth inequality in this country. But Emily the Criminal isn’t trying to be preachy or political, it’s just authentic, and urgent, and Plaza’s performance keeps the emotional and physical honesty at the forefront.

Bourgeois-Tacquet’s script is loaded with witty bon mots and carefully-constructed insights.

The strength of Goodbye World is that it understands the foibles of these characters and lets them be as flawed as they are while they are also trying to survive not just the apocalypse but each other.

Sanga’s roundabout storytelling and sensitive exploration of contemporary issues around sexual identity and consent makes First Girl I Loved a sophisticated and complex teenage coming of age story. It’s Gelula’s performance that brings the emotional weight necessary to drive the story forward.

The Hero feels looser, more abstract, and more symbolically ambitious than the winsome “I’ll See You In My Dreams,” and at times you wish for a bit more narrative rigor. But it’s nonetheless a resonant depiction of a man fearlessly reckoning with his life, his image and, most importantly, his heart.

The film is exceptionally well-made... There is nothing warm about the style, yet it allows for moments of simmering tension, broken by a few emotional explosions that shatter its well-composed surface.

Ultimately, Gibney's film is fascinating for the people in it. The filmmaking is nothing exceptional, but what is remarkable is the bravery shown by those who speak out in the film.

Arnow sheds any trappings of fiction, presenting herself, her filmmaking, her relationships and her sex life in an at times shockingly frank manner. It’s refreshing to see a filmmaker embrace this honesty with such gusto (which, like life, is often painful or awkward to experience).

The script is well-structured, refined, and satisfying, and the direction is sure-handed. Not to mention, it's refreshing to have lesser-seen romances and different kinds of friendships on screen. Emotional and entertaining, I’ll See You In My Dreams is a sweet and sensitive tale.

They Call Us Monsters is restrained, sensitive and quietly heartbreaking.

The Armor of Light condemns the organizations that create cultures of fear in order to line their own pockets, cultures that end up putting human life below profits.

The Batterered Bastards of Baseball is an entertaining celebration of the independent spirit and the love of the game.

Unexpected and charming, “Manson Family Vacation” is one ride you’ll want to catch.

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.

Mascaro’s film is an auspicious, original, and absorbing work that thrills with its look into this little-seen world and the dreamers that inhabit it.

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.

The proximity, orientation, and monumental nature is what makes Levitated Mass the piece so powerful, and Levitated Mass the film not only captures that but puts those ideals forth as something culturally and socially important, something that happened when the mass met the masses.

Smart, playful, and hilarious, The Overnight is a delightful romp between the sheets.

While there’s drugs and sex and drinking and dancing, for sure, if one looks at I’m So Excited as a metaphor for the ills of society today and how we react to it, it becomes a much more poignant and biting satire of the state of our world, and how we as a people decide to react to it.

This rock doc rewrites punk history while telling an emotional story about an artist’s spirit and his faithful family.

It’s an impressive feat of unfolding this story, though there are a few moments where it loses the narrative thrust and momentum along the way. Still, it’s a remarkable portrait not only of this particular man, but of a culture in a transitioning moment: adapting to new influences and growing older, but continuing, always, to remember.

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.

Regardless of whether this is a film you can handle, it’s a perfect example of the kind of bold new vision that cinephiles should be championing.

The film's got one of the cleverest, and most satisfying ambiguous endings of any film all year.

Ultimately, while 'Escape Fire' proposes numerous options for changing the system-- getting Medicare to cover healthy lifestyle counseling programs, incentivizing doctors to spend time with patients, and patients to empower their own health-- the one that is most poignant is that people should spend the time to take care of each other.

While Holy Hell only offers answers about this particular group and the experiences of these individuals, it’s a riveting piece of work, a look into a tightly-controlled and private world of brainwashing, abuse and exploitation in the name of spiritual fulfillment.

Dead Man’s Burden (the directorial debut of Jared Moshé) demonstrates just why film is important, simply by being beautiful. But beyond that, it’s also a moody, violent, classic, yet modern Western.

With a dry and witty tone, it’s an amicable and appealing piece on love, both the romantic and family kind, and the ways in which it can change, evolve, and grow.

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.

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.

Funny, unique, and entirely inappropriate, Appropriate Behavior is a supremely satisfying and irreverent take on the New York rom-com.

Hooligan Sparrow is a vital reminder of the importance of artistic and journalistic freedom, and that telling certain stories can be an inherently perilous proposition — especially when those stories reveal something that the government would rather keep under wraps.

A contemplative look into one man’s life, Homme Less has resonance beyond just Mark Reay.

As underground and DIY as the kiki scene might be, it’s still highly organized, and part of what Kiki expresses is this community organization as a strategy for survival. The struggle is real, and it’s hard to imagine how they keep pushing that boulder up the hill — being fully themselves in the face of so much hardship — but they are tough, and united.

It’s thematically rich, and confidently directed with a clear point of view, set against a backdrop of relevant socioeconomic and cultural issues. But it’s also a deeply relatable and affecting depiction of the heedless beauty of a first love.

Code Black manages to encapsulate so much of what is wrong with our health care system, but also to point out what’s right, and to posit an attitude shift not just about health care but about how we as a society treat those around us who are in pain or suffering. A heartbreaking but hopeful message within this important film.

It’s a fun, laugh-out-loud dark comedy, and proves that Alex Karpovsky and crew have made their mark.

A refreshing and relevant cinematic representation, Naz & Maalik is an impressive debut for the filmmaker and actors.

Illuminating and fiercely original, if you’re willing to go along on a silent, experimental, dance-based journey of a mother in the desert, Ma is well worth the ride.

The Girl in the Book is an auspicious debut for Cohn, a showcase for VanCamp’s true acting abilities, and a fascinating feminine story.

Heralding the arrival of Seth Fisher as a voice to watch, Blumenthal is much like its characters: a frankly funny and original piece of work.

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).

The writing crackles, and Miller doesn’t waste time getting right at the meat of the story.

Adopt a Highway is a small film but mighty, thanks to Hawke’s reserved yet touching performance as a broken man learning to test his wings again, and Marshall-Green’s willingness to take Russell down unexpected paths.

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.

While the information presented might not come as news to many, the way that O’Hara synthesizes the massive volume of it into a personal story of herself and Servan-Schreiber, is immensely captivating and persuasive.

Isn’t It Romantic walks the line between subversive and sendup. It gleefully makes fun of the well-known tropes of romantic comedies, while also satisfying our desire to delight in said tropes.

[Barden] becomes the vessel to express Riegel’s quiet cri de coeur, which is not just yearning to escape one’s own circumstances but the absolute necessity of it.

Though the narrative could use more structural integrity, Zollo, and her daring lead actress, Duke, create a courageously personal, experimental piece, tapping into a raw emotional state not often rendered on screen with such depth and intelligence.

Tonally, Devotion remains steady, never going for over-the-top emotion or sensation, simply seeking to express something authentically moving and human. It unmistakably achieves that, delivering a stirring story of friendship during war, and beyond, that is both rare and real.

Erika Cohn’s documentary Belly of the Beast, which depicts the fight to ban non-consensual sterilizations performed on female prisoners in California, is at once a thrilling legal drama and heartbreaking depiction of devastating human rights violations that you can’t imagine happening in the 21st century.

This contemplative film is beautifully shot, set in a stunning landscape surrounded by fog and greenery and ancient stone steps. But it’s Yao’s soulful and stirring performance as a complex woman struggling to understand herself — and life itself — that anchors Send Me to the Clouds, allowing it to truly soar.

Like a haute couture garment, Chic! is a finely crafted piece of work, a comedic romantic drama set within a frothy and sublimely funny caricature of the Parisian fashion world.

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.

There are moments when it feels aimless, incorporating new story lines about the current administration and deportation deep into the running time. But in simply observing this courtroom and the affect it has on lives, the film is deeply moving and quietly revolutionary.

Each character is given a chance at failure and redemption, which is what makes “Sierra Burgess” feel like such a well-rounded world. The smart script and butterfly-inducing romance captures those sweet moments of falling in love — whether it’s with your crush, or even better, with a friend.

The peek into this world, at this time, feels like a rare treat, an unearthed gem released from a vault.

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 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.

The story takes some unbelievably tragic twists and turns, and along the way, Dastmalchian unfolds a riveting performance, aided by Schiffli’s beautiful and unobtrusive style.

A finely observed documentary.

They don’t often make them like this anymore, a story cut, folded and stitched together with care. So “The Outfit” is worth slipping into and savoring.

Favier carefully dissects the complex power dynamics at play, as well as the emotional devastation that results from the abuse. It’s an honest, and surprisingly, even hopeful portrait.

Cassandro’s maximalist image invites a big, outlandish treatment, but Williams keeps the tone quiet and grounded, centering García Bernal’s moving performance and keeping the focus on Saúl, the real person behind the celebrity.

The camera work is meticulous and exquisite in its expression, creating a sense of tense foreboding throughout, linking characters and images with a creepy omniscience.

While Tag doesn’t get every character beat right, it nails the energy and enduring companionship that the game has engendered among the friends. It’s the kind of frothy escapist fare that goes down easy on a hot summer day, with a big old beating heart to boot.

Alvarez gives Spaeny her hero moments, whether in her care of her comrades or destroying an invasive species, and she expresses the inner strength and utter determination to survive required of an “Alien” franchise installment. Sometimes, that demonstration of sheer humanity and grit is all that’s required to make one of these films sing.

The songs are lovely, and the first-time actors give performances that grow warmer as the film progresses, and their characters release, relax and find a groove, if only for this moment in time.

It almost seems that Moore discovered the film and character and decided she had to play Gloria, the way stage actors take on classic roles. Moore's take brings a new dimension not only to the story but also to her career.

This honest examination of a passionate, disastrous, adult relationship, might feel like a warning itself. Papadimitropoulos doesn’t offer easy answers, but what Monday brings is something tangibly real and profoundly human.

Using every tool at her disposal, Taymor crafts an epic tapestry of a remarkable life, paying tribute to the glorious Gloria Steinem.

The film is an astute character study that is analytical but never unemotional.

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

The story is larger than life. Padilha brings a frenetic, authentic style and flair to this depiction and never loses sight of its larger messages and themes.

It’s a simple but resonant tale, but Encanto is a charmed and charming film that just might offer a bit of healing too.

The film is a respectful analysis of burgeoning sexuality, the sometimes embarrassing missteps that come along with figuring it out, and exploring that all through fiction.

Rather than stooping to horror-genre antics, Mallhi weaves a tale that is spooky but sensitive and focused on interpersonal relationships between mothers and daughters.