Lena Wilson

This film more than proves its director and lead’s talents. Sure, it’s gut-wrenching, but film fans will also find it exhilarating. It is the artistic equivalent of watching a well-trained underdog vault the finish line at her first big race.

This is a staggering achievement, the sort of nonfiction project that takes unfathomable guts and skill.

When all’s said and done, Wobble Palace is trying so hard you can’t help but like it.

Ito is undeniably brave, but this autobiographical doc could stand to be a bit less shiny.

Song of Back and Neck is worth a watch—even if you’ll scratch your head more often than you’ll laugh.

As surely as a hiker extending her arms in the middle of an undulating lava field, Iceland has arrived, with a startling movie that’s every bit as idiosyncratic, homely, and dynamic as its country of origin.

This is one of the most thoughtful films about the female experience to debut in recent years, and should be mandatory viewing for anyone eager to engage with confidently-made, skillful art cinema.

Even when it drags — 169 minutes is a lot of time to fill, even for this masterful crew — the film gamely mixes comedy, action, and drama into one truly satisfying cocktail.

Even when this film is a bit too neat, it’s still totally irresistible.

It feels as though [Loznitsa] has wrangled an entire uprising’s personality into bite-sized pieces.

It’s particularly sad that viewers can’t spend more time in Casey’s world, since newcomer Cobb is this film’s greatest asset.

What saves this wallflower of a drama is its focus on the women’s friendship, which Mosaku and Horn sell with aplomb.

Mamacruz is finely crafted, if not particularly challenging. This film clearly wants to wrestle with taboos, but that revolutionary spirit doesn’t go much further than the basic premise. With such important themes, this film deserves to be a bit more memorable than it ultimately is.

With capable performances and a smart, character-focused script, this film balances its formal conventions with narrative nerve, ultimately making for a satisfying – if not show-stopping – watch.

“Until the Wheels Fall Off” works better as a humanistic exploration than it does as a biography, making its Hawk focus occasionally feel like a weakness.

It is subversive, stomach-churning and visionary, a body-horror film that doubles as a fable of femininity gone wrong.

Equal parts choppy and charming, “See You Yesterday” has trouble balancing quirk and melodrama.

That the filmmakers manage to address so much of such a complicated life in just over 90 minutes speaks highly to their effectiveness, vision and economy.

In the documentary Free Chol Soo Lee, first-time doc directors Julie Ha and Eugene Yi use archival materials in an attempt to present their tragic hero in all three dimensions. Despite their efforts, Soo Lee feels just out of reach, but the story of his life remains as important as it is horrifying.

Montana Story remains a worthwhile exercise, largely because it puts two stellar actors through a monumental emotional gauntlet, and they pass with flying colors.

This film might not blow you away, but it is unique, and it will make you laugh. And ultimately, that’s all you really need from an indie comedy.

In the overstuffed indie coming-of-age subgenre, Sophie Jones makes an unassuming, honest contribution. Which is exactly what it needed to do to stand out among the endless pomp and quirk.

The cinematic equivalent of a bath bomb, this fizzy feature is sure to delight — at least until the charm fades. So unfurl your towel, dust off your bathing suit, and soak up that warmth.

As a film, Saturday Church could so much more, and its disheartening shyness keeps it from achieving greatness. A few choir boys short of a hallelujah, Saturday Church feels more like a subdued sermon.

Baghdadi has harnessed something truly special. Like its fractious characters, Sirens is both humble and arresting, relatable and unique. It will stay with you long after the band has played their final chords.

One of this century’s most arresting tales of female anxiety.

Honey Bunch is a work of art, but it won’t go down easily for everyone, and it’s sure to be divisive. Definitely watch it with a friend or loved one — whether you’re picking apart the plot holes or reveling in the reveal, you’ll need to debrief afterward.

This is the cinematic equivalent of eating a macaron, a bourgeois treat best enjoyed for its prettiness rather than its substance. But much like a good macaron, a well-done period romance – interesting, well-paced, relatively pro-woman – is a deceptively hard thing to make. This is one exquisite petit four.