Marc Mohan

An unforgettable experience.

The credibility of these theories ranges from faintly plausible to frankly ridiculous, but Ascher isn't interested in judging them; his movie is more about the joys of deconstruction and the special kind of obsession that movies can inspire.

Being a fairly faithful adaptation, this version also has a lot of that other stuff about the hypocrisy of civilized life, the truthfulness of natural splendor and so forth.

Only in the slightly overlong last act, as the family's misfortunes become truly existential, does director Kiyoshi Kurosawa take things to another level. Whether this is an extension of the film's social criticism, a comment on the absurdity of melodrama or straightforward audience manipulation, is anyone's guess.

This was a story that made front pages in its day but has been largely lost to history, and now is brought bracingly and compellingly back to life.

Among the Dardennes' more accessible films, despite a drawn-out finale that still doesn't quite satisfy.

West of Memphis does nothing to displace its predecessor films as masterpieces of investigative filmmaking, but complements them as a riveting capstone to an epic and tragic tale.

For those to whom life is but a stage, this will be sweet, sweet candy; to those of us destined to be their audience, it's a satisfying, if flawed, look behind the curtain.

A decent-enough treat for fans of this particular Gallic genre.

So, be warned: You may not learn anything from this mild, unremarkable film, but you might be tempted to order the deluxe, four-volume “The Complete Calvin and Hobbes” after watching it. I was, and I don’t regret it a bit.

John Hawkes has, until now, been known primarily as the skilled character actor who brought an earthy authenticity to roles on TV's "Deadwood" and the Oscar-nominated "Winter's Bone." With The Sessions, he makes his mark as a bona fide member of screen acting's elite. And he does it while barely moving a muscle.

Pride should leave audiences smiling and inspired. But it would have been a much more groundbreaking film if it had been released 30 years ago.

Cheadle's performance elevates Hotel Rwanda, making it a film that does justice to the tragedy it commemorates.

If there's one thing missing, it's a sense of purposeful, immediate outrage. You can't help but wonder why this film wasn't made 20 years ago, when it could have saved these men some time behind bars.

Controversy aside, there's no denying that Kinsey was a pivotal figure in 20th-century America, and one whose fascinating story makes for a fascinating film.

The two stories never come close to meshing the way the filmmaker intended. The result is a well-acted movie that simply doesn't gel.

Youth may be wasted on some of the young, but the two aspiring Norwegian novelists at the center of Reprise, director Joachim Trier's debut feature, try desperately to avoid that particular cliche.

Highly entertaining chronicle of a dream unfilmed.

It's a treat to be diverted by a film that actually has a brain.

The real star is Attah, a Ghanaian street kid plucked from obscurity, who imbues Agu with just the right mix of terror, brutality and the last remaining vestiges of boyish innocence.

In the annals of monster movies, one name stands above all the rest, way above: Godzilla.

Plot takes a back seat to style and attitude, as it often does in Jarmuch's world, which can make the last half-hour of the movie drag a bit. But when that means getting to hang out with two fascinating creatures of the night, played by two fascinating performers, that's a perfectly valid trade-off.

Bell does a fantastic job of telling a thoroughly feminist story without being strident or didactic.

A film this heartfelt and intelligent about social justice will never be unimportant, but it feels especially relevant today.

The black-and-white cinematography and silent-film feel are haunting and nostalgic, and Aurora's story encapsulates a broader, bittersweet truth about the perils of tinted memory.

It proves the power of a good story, both to entertain us and to allow us to process unpleasant truths.

The clichés at its core make Metalhead something less than a full-bore, head-banging triumph. But it does perform the service of reminding us that even Judas Priest is capable of saving souls, and any film that features a cross-generational dance-off to Megadeth's "Symphony of Destruction" can't be all bad.

There seems to be less acting going on and more being, which not only makes this an enormously affecting penultimate performance (Gandolfini’s final film, “Animal Rescue,” will be released next year), but reinforces the brilliance of the darker work for which he will no doubt remain best known.