Ken Jaworowski

In his director’s statement, Mr. Perez, who also wrote the script, says he sought to fashion a story “that would confuse and bludgeon the audience.” My comrade and I will sip, silently nod and, with a strange kind of awe, agree: This filmmaker succeeded.

The humble Mr. Norman is always ready with a laugh, and it’s tough not to smile yourself when he reaches for a pencil and starts drawing. When that happens, it’s redundant to say he’s special. Anyone can see it.

A bittersweet and lovely little movie.

Making a Killing generates a disgust that can’t be shaken.

Mr. Kraume captures the glances and motions that lay bare a character’s thoughts. He’s fond of the gruff and curmudgeonly Bauer, yet sentimentality is scarce while the double-crossings are surprising and the dry humor is welcome.

Part scrappy, part sweet and wholly enjoyable, The Lost Arcade is a love letter to a vanished piece of New York, and a little wish for the future.

The sense of danger is palpable, as is the sense of misery after the most dreadful scenes.

Even with the tongue-in-cheek tone, it’s impossible to overlook the exhausting series of contrivances, coincidences and sloppy filmmaking.

Approaching the story for the traditional trappings — narrative, action, even logic — is to ensure disappointment. But look to it for beauty and lyricism, and you may find a deeper satisfaction.

Ms. Meeropol is steadfast in providing both sides of the story. That’s admirable, yet it can come across as uninvolving.

It’s a movie whose good heart is outweighed by its heavy hand.

The closing scene of “Faith,” beautifully blunt, ends it on the perfect note. Sure, you could point out a few shortcomings here and there. But those sins are easy to overlook.

The Absent One finds Mr. Kaas as watchable as before, though a few well-intentioned attempts to lighten up his character — an orphaned cat is brought in, a speech about his motivations is given — are clumsily executed, and instead divert from his terse and magnetic personality.

The film, directed by Mikkel Norgaard (who’s borrowed a thing or three from David Fincher) and first released in Denmark in 2013, often focuses on research rather than on gunplay, yet somehow it still feels filled with action. That’s a testament to its lead actors.

Part psychology seminar and sociology course, “Germans & Jews” finds its sharpest insights as it examines the stress of communication, when both sides are so hyper-aware of the past that it hinders what’s said in the present.

To be sure, this loosely structured story needs a stronger outline; you’ll often wish for clarifying details on the group’s programming and its unfamiliar instruments. But then the music will play, and you’ll think this film wants for nothing.

Mr. Allen has made an engrossing and tense documentary, though his insider knowledge is sometimes a hindrance.

As lovely as the movie is to look at (and the final scene is exceptionally wonderful), it’s too oblique to concentrate its energies and sharpen its focus.

To be sure, nothing in this film is easy to hear. But that doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be said, and learned from.

I must have breathed while watching Cash Only. But it sure felt as if I didn’t. This brutal and severe film has that effect.

Everything’s in service of the images in Bridgend, a stylishly shot, eerily scored and moodily acted film that wants for nothing but a plot. Depending on how you like your movies, this is either a walkout or a must-see.

The obvious problem with its subject-says-all approach is the lack of outside voices and perspective. This is a broad summation of the man, not a critical look at his policies.

It’s appealing to adults and accessible to younger viewers. And it delivers an environmental message that is strong and serious while remaining encouraging and optimistic. That’s important to hear. The rest is just amazing to watch.

For sure, there are plenty of humorous moments here. But that underlying sadness is the most affecting aspect of the film.

A one-word assessment of this documentary: Tough. As in, tough to watch. Tough to consider. Tough to ignore.

An understated and often charming film.

For a movie that promises an “epic journey” to explore a family’s “long-buried suffering,” it’s strangely unsatisfying, and eventually wearisome, to find that this clan is deeply troubled perhaps only in the eyes of its filmmaker.

Mr. Hauck’s affection is apparent in every frame, yet outside of an occasionally clunky line or show-offy moment (O.K., sometimes it’s more occasional than just occasionally), he rarely allows it to alter his aim. That aim is to make a modern noir. That aim is true.