Kyle Turner

Harwood’s portrayal of Jamie is not as an already birthed star crashing down to earth, but a sweet, excited, restless 16 year old, testing the limits of his aspirations in a space that can’t possibly accommodate them.

Bloom is an alluring actress, especially when playing more subtle dramatic beats. While she’s unable to elevate a rote script, Bloom, and her character, understand how to catch the gaze of an audience in a way that the camera does not.

It leads with a teen soap tone, and despite billing itself as a film, feels structurally more like a string of episodes smashed together.

This is a filmmaker precise in her composition and in her texture, her comedic beats reminiscent of both David Lynch and Issa Rae.

Its subject matter is interesting, and it’s right to remind viewers of the need for different generations of queer people to communicate, but After Louie is burdened by narrative and dialogue clichés that undermine its emotional appeal.

In the classic queer punk tradition of Bruce LaBruce, John Waters, and Gregg Araki, Ethan Coen’s film knows when to pay homage and when to move to its own rhythm.

Hudlin transforms a film that would be, in lesser hands, a formulaic hardship-as-aesthetic drama, into an earnest examination of what community means on the field, in the classroom and in our society.

The HBO documentary Siempre, Luis wants to be about a political lion of a father, but it ends up more enamored with his charmed son.

Much of the film feels not light and breezy, but like a self-conscious chore, unwilling to deviate from an established blueprint.

Winslet is doing an impression of Cate Blanchett doing an impression of Mia Farrow in September.

The inventiveness of the deaths is limited, and the geography of the film’s setting limits what kind of world its characters can create. The film is as barren of uniqueness or anything else compelling as the actual landscape is of foliage.

Though Carter is competent at making the chaos of a rainy match or the ecstasy of a clandestine tryst watchable, his characters feel like sketches with barely any idiosyncrasies. What’s the point of watching the game if you don’t care about the players?

The film takes dozens of different anecdotes about cults and celebrities and manages to render them pedestrian, unoriginal, staid.

There are a couple of impressive set pieces in Jigsaw, but the traps seem fairly rudimentary, and it’s up to the camera work to provide the needed jolts.

The film is startlingly earnest in its affection for Ke Huy Quan and making him play both to and against type.

It’s not funny enough to have anything clever to say about its gag, and it’s not exciting enough to be a competent horror movie.

Heymann situates the notion of celebrity in the context of not just performance and gay culture but also familial intimacy, with striking detail.

Kalderon and the cinematographer Ofer Inov make Adonises out of the film’s athletes, but the film goes beyond mere marble-body ogling in its equal attention to the physical, psychological and emotional toll that training takes on Erez and Nevo.