Kimber Myers

Unfortunately, this Australian horse racing film remains a standard underdog narrative that fails to rouse the audience from their seats, despite the best efforts from its cast and a few charming moments.

There’s real ugliness here, with the creative torture visited on the victims being enough to unsettle all but the most hardened of horror fans. Unfortunately, the ugliness isn’t solely in the on-screen violence. Transphobia and misogyny flow through the film as much as blood, staining what might have been a solid genre effort.

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.

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.

There’s a delirious joy in watching this much action, this well executed at every level.

At its heart, Jane is powerful feminist statement about a woman’s passion for and dedication to her career in the face of structural opposition.

Unfortunately, the film itself is so determinedly middle-brow with little to dislike other than how eager it is to please and how wary it is of offending. Unlike Hortense’s flavorful cooking, Haute Cuisine is aggressively bland.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

Like the man at its center, the film is aggressive and awkward, but there’s a sense of playfulness in how it pokes and prods at the world of independent cinema.

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

With its saturated colors, swirling camerawork and aggressive techno beats, Sins of Our Youth is rarely dull, but it lacks the emotional resonance that one expects from a film with the death of a child at its heart.

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.

Möller keeps a sense of immediacy and tension throughout, despite never actually showing the cause of Asger’s worry and dread – and our own.

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.

This isn’t an idealized version of romance or L.A. millennials; Kotlyarenko and Nekrasova shine a glaring iPhone flashlight on their characters’ — and their generation’s — flaws.

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

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.

The Hustle is profoundly stupid and it treats its audience as though they’re even less intelligent than it is.

Augie's challenges and efforts are moving, as is Lynne's devotion to him. Unfortunately, the film lacks consistency in its structure, and it glosses over some moments and people without explanation.The treacly score doesn't merely nudge viewers toward emotion, it shoves them.

Regardless of how far audience members are from their own post-high school, pre-college summer like these teens, there’s still truth and plenty of laughter here that feels specific to their experience yet universal to anyone who’s had a BFF.

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.

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.

Demon is a film that improves the longer it sits with you, as various images seep into your consciousness and reappear without warning.

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

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

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

Less would have been more here; a less scattershot approach would have yielded a more resonant film.

Rogers Park is populated by real people with real problems, though the dialogue in Carlos Treviño's script doesn't always serve them well. The lines sometimes feel manufactured, but there's real warmth — or frustration or anger, depending on the scene — present in these authentic performances.

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

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

This is largely a well-made movie from the technical perspective, but a stronger hand in the editing room would’ve made for a more watchable one.

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.

Rattlesnakes imagines itself as a neo-noir, but that genre is more evident in its themes of revenge and ambiguous characters rather than in its nondescript style. This is a bland, unpleasant watch, all set to an equally grinding score.

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.

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

Directors Mark Blane and Ben Mankoff bring a kinky sweetness to this oddball dramedy, but audience’s appetites for it will depend on their patience with its lead character.

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

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.

Isn't a bad freshman effort, but it doesn't offer anything to set it apart from dozens of other indie dramedies.

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.

Its bubbly tone is often at odds with the casual cruelty present. Status Update layers in a message about social media's filters and fakery, but it isn't enough to make this a movie worth sharing

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

Hotel Transylvania 3 may lack the indelibility of the medium’s best offerings for kids, but hopefully its clear theme of acceptance lingers long after the inoffensive odor of its fart jokes dissipates.

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.

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.

While The Storyteller aspires to be a feature-length Hallmark card, it only manages dollar-store sentimentality in its plot and platitudes.

For those who like their jokes on the cruel side, Goran is a darkly comic treat that is a far better experience for the audience than its characters.

At 127 minutes, Giannoli’s script feels overlong and a bit repetitive in its heroine’s disastrous performances. Lucien, the critic who helps propel Marguerite and her story forward, disappears for a large chunk of the film, only to randomly appear toward the end. Other than these missteps, Marguerite is worth watching with a well-earned grimace, largely for Frot’s pitch-perfect performance.

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

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

Ostensibly aimed at an adult audience that craves equal parts romance and raunch, Fifty Shades Freed appears to have been written by a teenager – and not just because of its groan- and giggle-inducing dialogue, lack of emotional investment and thinly drawn characters. There’s no knowledge of any element of how the world functions, particularly in its approach to relationships.

Other than showing moments of in-fighting, Meow Wolf: Origin Story is an almost entirely positive exploration of the collective and their art — but it’s an effective one.

National Bird is powerful cinematic journalism.

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.

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 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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

Love & Bananas works on two levels, spreading awareness about the plight of Asian elephants and the damage that tourist activities like elephant treks wreak, as well as documenting Noi Na's 500-mile journey and dramatic rescue.

The minimalist approach and premise of Solis should work, but the execution in the script keeps the viewer disengaged, wishing the pod would move more quickly toward its final destination.

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.

Dhont’s film is a strong debut from a technical angle, but it lacks the humanity necessary for a story of this nature.

For the Birds is kind to its subject, while recognizing the harm she’s inadvertently doing. Animal hoarding is far more complex than most would imagine, but this film handles it with care.

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.

Darkness Visible is disjointed and drags out for far too long, but it features some effectively creepy visuals.

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

Betting on Zero takes a matter-of-fact approach to its material, but it makes a convincing and sometimes emotional argument against Herbalife.

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

De Clercq’s clear directorial talent gives the film the illusion of respectability, but it can’t remove the sweaty sheen of smarm.

Definition Please is one of those debuts that doesn’t fully cohere on its own but hints at the promise of what the filmmaker can do.

Even for those who do know Ailes’ history of profound power abuse and sexual harassment, Divide & Conquer is engrossing.

Devotees will appreciate a different look at their fallen idol, while those who aren’t familiar with his music might find the film a bit long at nearly two hours but will see what the appeal was to those who loved him.

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.

Director Charles Stone III and screenwriter Chuck Hayward have made an overlong film at 108 minutes that may try the audience’s patience at times, but their movie hits its beats enough to make fans of the genre tap their feet along with the action on screen.

The movie has its flaws, but they’re tough to remember in the face of the fun it provides for two hours.

It’s a crowd pleaser of a film, whose powerful musical moments can overshadow any smaller issues within the film.

Beyond its plea for research, the documentary is largely hopeful, but for balance could include more anecdotes and details of when the treatment doesn’t have the desired results.

The Oslo Diaries is at its most gripping – and its most devastating – in its coverage of how close to peace the two sides came but have still yet to reach.

“Sword of Truth” is full of seemingly effortless charms and quirks, but Shelton keeps it from overloading into full-on twee. This is a small film in every way: one that sometimes lacks precision, but its casual feel really works within its world and among its characters.

The end result is sprawling and often unfocused, with a reach that exceeds its grasp.

Hirsh Bordo’s first film isn’t ambitious in its style or structure, but it is entirely effective at communicating its encouraging message to the audience.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Each moment in Always at the Carlyle feels like a pitch. Though it's effective in presenting the hotel's appeal, the salesman's greasy fingerprints linger, a stain which would never be welcome at the pristine spot.