Kimber Myers

This is a rousing, essential viewing experience that reminds us of exactly what humanity is capable of when we work together toward a single, world-changing goal.

The characters in The Lovers and the problems they face and struggle with feel entirely authentic, as does the magnetic chemistry between the leads.

If there’s anyone deserving of hagiography, it’s Rogers. This documentary truly captures the depth of his goodness and earnestness, peeling back layers to reveal an even better person than you remembered. “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” doesn’t cast Rogers as perfect, but it’s hard to imagine a more admirable man.

There’s been no shortage of study on Welles, but They’ll Love Me When I’m Dead offers a new understanding of the elusive, cunning filmmaker with a verve the man himself would have admired.

Despite its ruff collars and Elizabethan English, Mary Queen of Scots is no staid, stuffy period drama, as restrained as the breathing of corseted women. Instead, this a vital film, whose lace-trimmed bosom heaves with life.

High Flying Bird is often serious in how it deals with issues more substantial than just sports, but even beyond McCraney’s sharp, witty script, there’s a sense of joy here. The fun Soderbergh had making the film radiates off it, with this masterful movie that reminds the audience why we’re lucky one of the greatest living directors is still in the business.

It’s simultaneously incredibly pleasurable and quite disturbing, owing to its chilling elements and commentary on larger issues.

The Midwife is often unexpectedly funny and sweet. The film is more a celebration of life and its pleasures, big and small, rather than dwelling on death

Movies with this serious a message about race are rarely fun to watch, but Peele has a perfect handle on tone, knowing just when to lean toward menacing, eerie or sharply funny and when to tip things in another direction.

Kubo and the Two Strings feels like a miracle, evoking joy, surprise and wonder in its audience.

Set to a rock-and-roll soundtrack, with titles featuring the bright colors Iris adores, Maysles' documentary is energetic and vibrant. Iris is the cinematic equivalent of a party, with its titular character as its host.

The Crash Reel can never be accused of being dry or boring, but Walker brings an energetic style that also complements its subject.

Throughout the documentary, infectious joy leaps off the screen with the same energy the color-guard teams display.

The Breaker Upperers features a distinctly New Zealand style of comedy: dry, awkward and utterly hilarious. But directors, writers and stars Jackie van Beek and Madeline Sami still give this film a wild energy that’s absolutely their own, with jokes that take the audience from giggles to cackles to all-out shrieks.

Director Yoonessi and deGuzman perfectly balance the contrast between Joy’s cuteness and innocence and the darkness and sexuality of her experience.

The vibrant, absolutely vital documentary “Martha: A Picture Story” introduces audiences to the now-septuagenarian photographer as she’s suiting up for a night out, strapping on a backpack with her camera to tag along with taggers, keen for the perfect shot and to avoid getting caught.

Permission asks difficult questions and doesn't offer easy answers. But while it deals with heavy relationship issues including the validity of monogamy, it manages an easy, seemingly effortless humor that seduces the audience while simultaneously breaking filmgoers' hearts.

Atomic Homefront is a both a fiery indictment of systemic inaction and a tribute to the work of those battling for their families’ safety.

The film alternates between triumph and tragedy, but there’s never a moment that doesn’t feel intimate and authentic in its 96-minute running time.

It’s a stunning feat of technology and artistry.

This isn’t just a necessary or powerful story; it’s a well-told one.

Death and grief may exist in the soul of “D-Man in the Waters” but “Can You Bring It” is full of vitality and energy, a testament to the power of art in the face of tragedy.

With Sabaya, we witness documentary filmmaking at its boldest; we find hope in seeing not only the triumphs of the Yazidi Home Center but also what the medium can do.

Wild Nights with Emily feels at once revelatory and a total delight, a surprise for both for literature geeks and those who didn’t do their required reading in school.

Gentle but sharply observed, Good Posture is an uncommon cinematic look at an intergenerational female relationship.

Steinfeld’s performance and the script from Kelly Fremon Craig have created a young woman who feels entirely familiar, while never feeling like a retread of the other teenagers who have walked the cinematic high school halls before her.

This isn’t an overly sentimental story; those expecting the emotional swells of other British fare like “Pride” and “Kinky Boots” should adjust their expectations. The Lady in the Van is a more buttoned-up narrative, but it’s no less engaging thanks to Smith, Jennings, and Bennett’s script.

As in “The Wolfpack,” Moselle doesn’t just capture the rebellions of her characters, she expresses their triumphs and joys with intimacy and detail.

Love, Simon is filled with details and specificity, making Simon’s story feel real and authentic in each moment, from the music he listens to to the costumes seen at a Halloween party, elevating it above what could have been the after school special version of the same story.

The initial draw of Sea Fever might be as a monster movie, but this is a profoundly humane and humanist film whose ideas stays with you longer than the nightmares.

The Fault in Our Stars wins points for being more complex and stylish than most similar films feel they need to be. Most movies with this target audience are maudlin and manipulative, but Boone's film never feels like it's trying too hard to win our tears—or our laughter.

Ocean’s 8 is the self-aware frosé of movies; a summer delight, perfectly airy and refreshing, it’s not here to be your cinematic think piece. Ocean’s 8 knows exactly what it’s doing and what it’s trying to achive– showing the audience hell of a good time – and it succeeds marvelously at it, without leaving the audience feeling duped.

My Love, Don’t Cross That River serves as a testament that romantic love can endure, particularly when it is nurtured by people who care deeply for one another and don’t hesitate to show that feeling with every breath.

What’s impressive is that despite the sometimes heavy subject matter—divorce, creative crisis and trying to find an affordable 2BR in New York City—Klapisch’s film is light and fizzy, set to a soundtrack of funk and salsa.

Little Woods isn’t always subtle, but the occasional lack of nuance doesn’t lessen the power of its timely themes or impressive performances.

Amma Asante’s Belle has every element that costume drama fans love, but it elevates a standard love story by adding larger historical implications and giving us a new perspective on the era.

The Fate of the Furious is almost impossible not to like. It achieves exactly what it sets out to do, successfully lighting up the brain’s pleasure centers at each opportunity with a variety of tools in its arsenal.

This is often an insightful film, but it’s full of delights for journalism, history, and political junkies alike. It doesn’t fully answer the challenging problem of where the line between the two needs to be, but at least it’s asking the right question.

The script finishes up exactly where you think it will, but along the way, there are enough surprises and perfectly delivered lines to make it a blast.

There are moments of joy and humor throughout, and the film insists on feeling those emotions, just as much as it does grief.

Come To Daddy is definitely not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. ... Provocative and ballsy ... [the film] doesn’t give a shit if you like it and perhaps even dares some audiences to sit through it unfettered. Ultimately, it knows that those who stay are on its weirdo wavelength and are in for something insanely entertaining.

There should be more films like Fast Color. Movies that demonstrate that you don’t need a giant budget or decades of established IP to do superhero or sci-fi well on the big screen.

This is a subtle, slow burn of a film that refuses to bow to audience expectations in either its small moments or its overall arc.

Similar to RGB, Raise Hell preaches to the small choir that adored Ivins, but this documentary sings a beautiful new psalm that will reach new disciples and renew the follower faith like a tent revival.

Crafted with exquisite care in the vein of its subject, though it occasionally feels overly precious (criticism that might be leveled at the restaurant itself by its detractors).

As awful as the events of 1944 were for her, there’s ultimately hope in her story in how it fueled a movement and continues to inspire and push people today.

Where In Between does succeed is in showing the relationship between the women and in refusing to judge them for their choices.

There is plenty to marvel at in Tardi’s darker, alternate universe Paris, one that’s best watched with open minds and mouths agape at the incredible visual and storytelling imagination on display.

Like the kimchi stew it prominently features, this is comfort food at its best. Given its origins, it should feel like something out of a lab, but this is a charming crowd-pleaser in the best sense.

Giroux’s film is a quietly moving drama that can be a little too quiet and slow at times, but it deserves credit for never jumping into melodrama.

There’s emotional complexity, making it work for more than just its key demo.

Director Tim Wardle’s film is full of surprises, the least of which is its own dramatic shift in tone from wildly entertaining to absolutely disturbing.

This debut marks a bright future for Vives and is an excellent entry in the romantic comedy format that doesn’t lose sight of who its heroine is the moment she falls for someone.

Wetlands is more than just a film that shares far more about anal fissures than you ever wanted to know; it’s a surprisingly sweet coming-of-age comedy brimming with punk-rock energy and an impressive performance from Swiss actress Carla Juri.

Swallow is difficult viewing at times, but it’s psychologically rich and always feels genuine, even in its gorgeously stylized approach to the interior life of its complex protagonist.

Warmth and intelligence — and a strong sense of both fun and feminism — make Malik’s film worth a watch, and rising star Ali is worth keeping an eye on as well.

Swelling with humanity and romance like the crescendo of an aria, “Bel Canto” is a moving meditation on the power of love, music and proximity.

This isn’t simply a damning indictment of the nation; it is a hopeful celebration of one woman’s activism and kindness in the face of her own struggle with AIDS.

The documentary doesn’t hesitate to reveal the dangerous reality facing elephants and the other animals, offering a frank look at their existence in a film that’s as entertaining as it is moving.

The Serengeti Rules celebrates not only the diversity and beauty of the natural world but also recognizes the transformative power of curiosity and knowledge.

Strouse demonstrates a contagious affection for his characters, and he invests in them in a way that makes us do the same.

Deftly balancing humor and grief, The Bachelors is fueled by wonderfully human performances and fully realized characters.

The resulting film is a gripping story about a search for justice amid systemic corruption.

American Woman at once reveals its soft underbelly while landing a surprisingly effective punch to the gut — largely thanks to Miller’s deft performance.

This Russian drama is at once poetic and painfully realistic as it explores a century of conflict and its broader impact.

This is a gorgeously made film, put together with as much care as its subjects devote to saving the remaining varieties of seeds.

The children’s stories alone would have been compelling, but illustrating them in this medium adds even more depth, nuance and emotion.

Côté’s film patiently paints a picture of men who are more than their bodies, revealing the emotions beneath the skin and muscles and challenging perceptions about them.

The result is as poetic as it is insightful as the Yanomamis’ current experience coexists onscreen with their mythology.

This is a moving documentary that treats its subjects with the dignity and respect they don’t always get but certainly deserve.

For her directorial debut, Vilaysack has made an authentic documentary that deals honestly with issues of identity, immigration and family. There’s little self-editing here, giving the audience insight into her pain, an experience that is both moving and uncomfortable in its raw state.

No Greater Love may leave viewers emotionally wrecked, but they’ll emerge with additional respect and gratitude for the soldiers’ sacrifice.

The film is a moving experience for both its subjects and the audience.

There’s no artifice in this documentary, with the director simply presenting the women’s lives as they tell them, one after another. Slow-moving and sad, Twenty Two isn’t easy to watch, but it isn’t meant to be.

This documentary won’t provide an exhaustive view of his filmography or life offscreen, but it paints an impressionistic picture that feels almost experimental at times. Simultaneously arty and artful, it refuses to take the standard approach and it will reward cinephiles who want something different than most film biographies can offer.

Lo’s humane film helps us glimpse the lives of those who are often overlooked, whether they walk the streets of Istanbul on four legs or two.

With an affection for nerd culture that is inversely proportional to its budget, this lo-fi sci-fi comedy is destined for laugh-filled late-night viewing.

Women Who Kill is delightfully specific in its approach to its characters and their community. It takes a familiar theme of romantic comedies — the fear of commitment — and gives it new life by adding a morbid element to the mix.

National Bird is powerful cinematic journalism.

The Fear of Being Watched is focused and thorough, but it takes the time to place its events in a larger context.

At just 81 minutes, The Cage Fighter has been whittled down to its fighting weight, trimmed of every ounce of fat. Unay tells Carman's story without interviews or narration, but the film lands every punch without their help.

Equal parts sweet and tart, director Andrew Fleming’s “Ideal Home” is the cinematic equivalent of Sour Patch Kids.

If you have an affection for puns or off-kilter humor, it’s hard not to be charmed by Asperger’s Are Us.

What makes The Redeemed and the Dominant so engaging isn't the hulking specter of steroids; it's the competitors' feats of strength and speed and their powerful personalities to match.

This is a beautifully shot film whose visuals work well with its philosophical approach to life and relationships.

Eklöf doesn’t seem to care if you like her film or her characters — including the protagonist — and it’s this boldness that keeps you watching.

With her debut, Wells demonstrates that she's more than a comedic talent with a wonderfully weird sensibility. As a writer-director, she puts her own stamp on a standard premise, resulting in an unconventional but genuinely enjoyable film.

This is a messy, riotous film worthy of Lunch herself, and just like Lunch, it isn’t asking to be liked.

This is a tender, generous movie that likes its characters and presents them as real people, full of flaws and strengths.

Survival stories aren't rare in cinema, but Garcia's journey will make even the most jaded viewers drop their jaws.

Sims-Fewer and Mancinelli have crafted a morally complex film that mingles sex and violence in ways that are meant to make the audience uncomfortable.

Both awe-inspiring and mouth-watering, The Heat: A Kitchen (R)evolution celebrates seven female chefs forging ahead in a male-dominated industry.

It’s a humane, compassionate film, simultaneously full of beauty, sadness and struggle.

If you took “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” mashed it up with some gonzo grindhouse pics, doused it in shaken-up cans of original Four Loko and then lit it on fire, laughing while it burned, you might begin to approach the craziness that is Overlord.

Creative Control has a lot to say, and style to spare, but stronger performances and better-drawn characters could have made its message even more effective and enjoyable.

Venus and Serena wins points for sharing an intimate, not-always-flattering view of the sisters that isn’t PR-friendly.

It may poke fun at Karen and Tina, but it never says that their choices around motherhood aren’t valid and deserving of happiness. Its ultimate sympathy for these women may be at odds with earlier jabs at them, but it creates an empathetic space that is surprisingly emotionally satisfying.

Adrift avoids the perils of most survival stories, thanks not only to its strong cast and well-structured script but to Kormákur who manages to succeed at capturing the tone of both the intimate moments and the ones where a building-sized wave looms over Tami and Richard.