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.