Kerry Lengel

The power dynamics between two peoples locked in “asymmetrical conflict” — not to mention two sets of gender codes — set the stage for Alayan’s thriller. In storytelling terms, they are the rules by which the tightly wound plot unspools. But the film’s great strength, in addition to the usual quality-control things, is its care to humanize, not demonize, the characters who are playing by those rules.

The metaphor is plain yet elegant: Ai is the clever cat busily devising ways to push through the barriers physical, cultural, mental -- that make humans less than free. And in China, of course, the biggest of those barriers is the one-party state.

For me, it doesn’t really matter if LaBeouf is letting himself off the hook, or if Honey Boy is the ultimate vanity project of a pampered narcissist. What matters is that he has plunged into the maelstrom of his own memories and emerged with a real work of art — something that feels real, feels true, even though we all know it isn’t.

This is a challenging, brilliantly constructed film that, despite its patience and quiet tone, is engrossing from its first moments, especially an opening scene that encapsulates Jandal's poignant contradictions.

And now with Tangled, a delightfully fresh spin on "Rapunzel," the entertainment powerhouse delivers its first classic-caliber computer animation outside the Pixar family.

The story is captivating from the very first moments.

It's a style of storytelling that leaves the audience guessing, but it also gives the actors room to breathe, to inhabit their characters without having to explain them away in terms of biography or pop psychology.

There’s never a sense the filmmakers are preaching the gospel of legalization, although they are certainly not preaching against it, either.

There are moments when this funny, self-consciously quirky film feels a bit like a Welsh "Napoleon Dynamite."

It’s a movie that maybe tries to do too much, but it does enough of it well to keep you glued to the screen.

The great strength of The Sower is that it doesn’t try to do too much. It zooms in on its microcosm with a tender urgency that offers a glimpse of complex humanity without reducing the story to some sort of pithy takeaway.

The Joker’s superpower is his resentment, his narcissism, and Phoenix cultivates these methodically in his performance, slowly transmuting the character’s awkward fragility into a kind of raging charisma — aided and abetted, of course, by all the tricks of art direction, sound design and editing that a journeyman filmmaker has at his disposal.

It never feels contrived, never panders to our illusions. When the ending comes, it is neither expected nor a twist. It’s just what happens.

“Far From Home” ends up being one of the more entertaining and satisfying installments in Marvel’s never-ending story cycle, thanks to a tautly constructed narrative that packs in plenty of fan service without getting overly complicated.

If Keanu sometimes comes off as another sketch stretched a little thin, that doesn’t put it in too shabby of company. It may not be as great as “The Blues Brothers,” but it’s up there with “Wayne’s World” — and light-years ahead of “Coneheads.”

You can read Emma's affair and its eventual effect on Edoardo as an inverted oedipal thing, or perhaps as a metaphor for decadence, the embodiment of a family that subconsciously realizes it's in decline and must fight to warm its blood.

Purely from a standpoint of craft and storytelling, it’s a good flick, although maybe not well attuned to the bombastic times.

Beautiful Creatures rises above the rabble thanks to an eminently watchable cast and a sharp screenplay by writer-director Richard LaGravenese.

Naharin’s dances, amply illustrated from decades’ worth of film, is visceral, emotional and sometimes shocking.

With a filmography stuffed with masterpieces, the Coen brothers’ greatest trick is balancing the ironic commentary on cinema and storytelling with the dramatic impact of compelling human stories well told. And it’s a trick they pull off again and again.

Waves is definitely not a film for everyone, but it has hidden depths that will reward the patient.

As the filmmakers trace the troubles of his later life -- psychological, financial, marital -- they flesh out a portrait of a reluctant guru whose human imperfections make him all the more inspiring.

It is a quiet but intense and closely observed piece of work.

Offers valuable historical, social and political context, particularly if you aren't an international-news junkie.

More than anything, The Sisters Brothers is an exploration of how far you can take an anti-Western before it snaps out of the genre’s orbit entirely.

The perfect movie for fans of "The Daily Show" who actually stick around for the second-half interview. A cinematic memoir based on the one-man show by Mike Birbiglia, it is the aesthetic intersection of Comedy Central and public radio.

It is intended for an audience that is willing to take a journey without knowing the destination.

Ma is one loony little horror film, and Octavia Spencer has a grand old time being the craziest thing in it.

As a portrait of modern warfare, politics and propaganda, Coriolanus is intriguing, even if the gritty action sequences don't quite measure up to the realism of "The Hurt Locker."

At once hopeful and melancholy, it won't necessarily leave you with deep thoughts to think, but rather a feeling that you can't quite name but sticks in your head like a wistful tune in a minor key.

A precisely calibrated crowd-pleasing machine, balancing action, comedy and just the bare minimum of pathos.

An engaging film that’s head and shoulders above the average talking-head parade.

[An] exhilarating, brutally depressing documentary.

There’s nothing self-serious about it. Blockers has all the brashness and irreverence that any comedy fan of the Apatow era could ask for, even as it represents a more gender-balanced future for Hollywood.

This gently humorous, fiercely honest indie film is a step forward in the quest for a move inclusive Hollywood, which seems to one of the themes of the cultural moment. Some may dismiss it as identity politics. But movies like this prove that it’s about broadening our scope and deepening our understanding.

A delicious trifle for anyone who has ever dreamt of bantering about the cinema with Luis Buñuel or lounging at the piano to hear Cole Porter sing "Let's Do It."

It's an engaging, accessible documentary that explores the (truly) eternal questions, "Does hell exist? If so, who ends up there, and why?"

Hill isn’t offering a sociological treatise. Mid90s is all about lived experience. It’s about a place and a time and offers little inkling of its characters’ futures.

Shot in verite style with handheld cameras and rule-breaking quick cuts, Cahill's film moves slowly between moments of heartache and quiet beauty.

Yes, “Popstar” is dumb, dirty fun. So what’s not to like?

OK, maybe they cut a couple seconds out of that scene where Deadpool gets ripped in half, but the movie's sardonically gruesome sensibility remains intact.

Mark Ruffalo, in just the right amount of stubble, grease and leather, plays Paul, about as cool an instant dad as a SoCal kid named Laser could hope for.

Prophet’s Prey isn’t definitive, but it is compelling and occasionally even cinematic.

The cuteness, of course, is just the lure. The real payoff is the unforgettable images of nature in its astonishing abundance and awesome austerity.

It’s an enjoyable ride, but probably not one you need to take twice.

It’s a compelling portrait both of Bauer and of a fraught moment in German history. But from the vantage of the present, the issues — and the characters — seem pretty black and white.

"Idiots” definitely isn’t for everyone, but its wry sensibility is several degrees more original than your average Hollywood knee-slapper.

The title implies a sort of old-world glamour, but the proverbial gilded cage is looking a bit dilapidated in The Heiresses, a subtle but intense character study from Paraguayan director Marcelo Martinessi.

Through all the skillfully juggled subplots, the overarching conflict has always been the family’s quest to keep hold of Downton Abbey — and thus preserve their role as the heart of the community, envied and adored by all — while also keeping up with the march of modernity.

The false notes are outnumbered by those that ring achingly true.

McQuarrie delivers a tense, eye-popping amusement-park ride that’s almost as exciting as it is forgettable.

It’s a compelling topic, even if directors Steve Brown and Jessie Deeter don’t dig deeply into the cultural and psychological significance of it.

Firth remains in low gear throughout his character’s transition from fuzzy dreamer to desperate schemer to mad transcendental poet. It takes a bit of voiceover to get the job done, but Firth’s steadfast refusal to chew scenery turns out to be the key to his performance

It's a gentle and unassuming film, lingering over sometimes poignantly awkward conversations as Terry encourages his protege to persevere in his search for an original voice to go along with his skilled hands.

It is the mythic resonance of her story that makes it a worthy subject a documentary. But it is the down-to-earth human touches that make Afternoon of a Faun: Tanaquil Le Clercq worth watching.

If there is a criticism to be made, it’s that Equity is just a bit too low-key to fully draw the audience in. The chiaroscuro lighting and thrumming mood music build tension slowly and surely, but never enough to make you inch forward in your seat. Just a smidgen of Gordon Gekko bombast might kick things up a notch.

If you're a fan of provocative, offbeat films such as "My Own Private Idaho" or "The Crying Game," you might want to give "Phillip Morris" a chance.

You might say the lack of a Hollywood narrative arc is both a strength and a weakness in this film, because Lipitz isn’t entirely clear about what story she is trying to tell.

As cultural criticism, this commentary on life in the age of TMZ and the "Real Housewives" is hardly insightful, but it is executed to dizzying, Fellini-esque perfection, a miniature masterpiece amidst more modest amusements.

Abe’s performance is compelling in the way it captures the gap between who Ryota has become and how he wants to see himself, and Japanese screen veteran Kirin Kiki gives a terrifically nuanced turns as his again mother, pulled between the disappointments of the past and a fierce determination to find joy in her present.

Even though Trial by Fire is less than a masterpiece, it still came as a gut punch that forced me to examine my own complicated feelings on the issue. In short, it taught me something, and that was a surprise.

Ortega wants us to see that allure, feel that lust. But to do it, he has to turn fact into fiction.

As a cinematic diatribe set in a stark moral universe, Goldstone comes in loud and clear.

If you dig Hart’s stuff, you’ll probably love the movie. So go.

Border brings to horror-fantasy the same Swedish sensibility that “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” brought to crime thrillers. Welcome to the land of eternal night.

Surprisingly, the movie doesn’t bear much of the stylistic stamp we’ve come to expect of Lee, who’s in his generic journeyman mode here. But aside from a satisfyingly clever new direction in the denouement, what distinguishes the remake from the original is its cartoonishness.

Under the perfectly paced direction of Ry Russo-Young (“Before I Fall”), Shahidi and Melton develop an easy chemistry on the way toward a satisfying denouement that’s neither tear-jerking tragedy nor fairy-tale wish fulfillment.

For fantasy fans who have dreamed all their lives of spending time inside Tolkien’s dazzling alternative reality, it’s a ride well worth taking.

Visually you can certainly call the film a breakthrough.

The Boy and the Beast might not quite have the storytelling sophistication to win over every adult, but for teens and tweens in the midst of their own coming-of-age stories, it has the potential to be a wondrous eye-opener.

Somewhat courageously, the film’s real focus is not on the obvious villains in this tale of two Americas, but on the absurd contradiction of its liberal hero watching a political apocalypse unfold on his iPhone.

Though there are no blazing historical insights here, the film is filled with moments of ribald humor and tender poignancy that offer glimpses into a society divided by class but united, mostly, in an outpouring of sheer, overwhelming relief.

Inevitably, embroidering upon a fairly simple idea saps some of its impact, and Glass ends up tipping more toward the self-conscious genre-riffing that “Unbreakable” offers an antidote for.

Maybe Pavarotti would be even more compelling if Howard had delved deeper into the contradictions and controversies. But the director does achieve the first goal on entertainment: Always leave them wanting more.

Even if the big thematic statements are less than subtle, the story is solid and thought-provoking, and the performances are just stylized enough to match the intensity of Norton’s deep-dive performance.

What he (Fukunaga) doesn't deliver, however, is a fresh take on an often-told love story.

X-Men: First Class isn't anywhere close to being a genre classic like "Spider-Man 2" or "The Dark Knight," but it is good enough to rejuvenate a franchise stuck on idle.

The sequel is even more “all about Al,” but ironically, with any question of another electoral run put to rest, the results work better as cinema.

It’s a bit of a letdown, though still entertaining.

Unlike, say, Val Kilmer's Jim Morrison in "The Doors," Thomas makes no attempt to create a convincing facsimile of Hank Williams, which is just as well, since he bears little resemblance to the sinewy singer.

Like Tom Hanks in Big, Levy does a great job of capturing — or parodying — the giddiness of a kid flexing his adult muscles (literally and figuratively). The two-hour-plus running time breezes by in a well-paced adventure that mines familiar comic-book tropes for laughs.

Muscled and ruggedly un-manscaped, Stapleton is an intimidating presence based on physicality alone, but the actor ratchets up the menace factor with a gripping portrayal of a man driven by emotions more complex than mere anger.

As an analysis of the causes of migration, it is one-dimensional and unconvincing. But as a social history of Latinos in America, it is provocative and fascinating. And as an indictment of decades of economic injustice and covert military action committed in the name of freedom, it is devastating.

There are no princesses, monsters or castles in the sky, but that doesn't mean there is no magic.

Depending on your own relationship with food, the pro-vegetarian documentary Forks Over Knives may be an inspiring call to action, a tedious bit of propaganda or a 90-minute guilt trip.

While it is a perfectly serviceable placeholder in the larger series, its contributions to the Potterverse are disappointingly minor.

Despite his roots as an over-the-top stand-up comedian, Williams long ago proved himself to be one of those rare actors who can truly inhabit a role, and “Boulevard” is no exception. But that’s not always enough to keep the viewer’s eyes glued to the screen.

Kidman and Firth both deliver compelling performances, although this kind of plot-driven fare is no real challenge to their considerable acting talents.

Despite the lethal force that inevitably gets applied to poor Lisbeth, we never really fear for her safety, but we do fear for her future happiness. That is where the real drama lies.

Directed by John Lee Hancock (The Blind Side, Saving Mr. Banks), it’s a well-crafted procedural, but it’s also a whole lot of familiar tropes put together in familiar ways.

After a predictable opening hour, Paradise Lost manages to deliver a surprise or two as it switches gears into a full-on thriller. But it never gets close to the epic heights to which it aspires.

Artfully shot and mooded-up with a jittery ambient soundtrack, Risk is compelling because the enigma of Assange is compelling.

Insidious: Chapter 3 is almost more a spoof of a classic like "The Exorcist" than it is an homage. It's not scary horror, it's silly horror, and the audience is in on the joke.

Screenwriter Jon Vitti and first-time directors Fergal Reilly and Clay Kaytis certainly give it a try, but their bag of tricks is mostly recycled and their sense of humor is aimed squarely at 12-year-old boys.

A Madea Christmas, for all its narrative shortcomings, also has plenty of laughs.

Even though Five Armies is the shortest Hobbit movie, it also is the least thrilling as it chugs toward the finish line weighted down with all the added characters and confusing subplots that have been tacked on along the way.

There's nothing particularly earth-shattering here, but maybe that's appropriate for a film honoring food that aims to be mouthwatering but unpretentious.

It lays on the pathos, moralizing and forced whimsy thicker than figgy pudding, but it’s still entertaining, heart-warming family fare, thanks in large part to charmingly sincere performances.