Matt Fagerholm

Though Donald Trump is never mentioned by name in all 140 minutes of Ai Weiwei’s new documentary, Human Flow, the picture is, quite simply, the most monumental cinematic middle finger aimed at his scandal-laden administration to date.

Perhaps die-hard fashionistas would find this reasonably diverting, but to everyone else, it is guaranteed to grow tiresome very quickly.

The execution is riddled with problems, not the least of which is the absence of Salinger’s actual work.

Fallen fuses its one good idea with countless bad ones generated not from life experience but from recycled formulas.

No filmed footage could replicate the experience of watching “Bronx Gothic” live, but documentarian Andrew Rossi does an admirable job of channeling its power in his movie of the same name.

What resonates most potently are the scenes of the 1972 trial.

Joshua: Teenager vs. Superpower is not a great film on the order of Nanfu Wang’s “Hooligan Sparrow” or Alison Klayman’s “Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry,” both essential profiles of muckraking activists whistleblowing against government corruption in China, but it does have an equally great story to tell.

American Anarchist presents us with a young man who believed he was living in the apocalypse, and whose book has gone on to have an apocalyptic effect on society.

Though the picture is admirable on a conceptual level, its execution is incoherent, interminable and a colossal strain on the eyes.

There’s a chilling resonance to the moment where Gigi reflects on the legacy of German physician Magnus Hirschfeld, and the Nazis that attempted to silence his groundbreaking advocacy for gay and transgender rights.

The atrocity of Newtown is twofold: the fact that it happened and the fact that the government did absolutely nothing to prevent it from happening again. Snyder and Kramer’s films aren’t politicized because they don’t have to be.

There’s a considerable amount of catharsis in They Call Us Monsters, but it is bittersweet at best.

I can’t recall another vampire film that depicted so amusingly the sheer awkwardness of adjusting to one’s fangs, as if they were yet another pitfall of puberty.

As awe-inspiring as this footage is, it’s every bit as amazing to envision how the filmmakers had to prepare for framing these moments with impeccable precision.

Disturbing the Peace is a courageous and uplifting film that deservedly earned a rapturous ovation when it screened at Ebertfest this year.

If the film is a touch more emotionally muted than one would expect, that is because Jones spends the vast majority of the film holding it together.

Regardless of their ultimate fate, the existence of Ye Haiyan and every soul she has ever sought to protect are undeniable, and thanks to filmmakers like Wang, immortal.

Elizabeth Allen’s generically titled thriller, Careful What You Wish For, plays like a painfully stilted high school production of “Fatal Attraction.”

The irony is that as Gallner’s performance gets stronger, the film around him grows weaker.

A Light Beneath Their Feet is a triumph of empathetic filmmaking. It will enthrall viewers merely seeking a coming-of-age yarn, and it contains one of the loveliest prom scenes in recent memory.

These behind-the-scenes factoids are the most interesting aspects of the film — and, regrettably, the only interesting aspects, as well.

This movie is, in essence, a product of fame and money without the slightest tangible shred of effort.

Frequently horrifying and never less than absorbing, Rabin, the Last Day is a meticulously observant portrait of a broken society.

Catnip for writers and humorists of all stripes, Wolchok’s film provides delightful breakdowns of various cartoons, examining the comedic rhythm of their design and detail.

What’s lacking from the film is any substantial exploration of the Constitution itself, and the democratic laws that would’ve made it a game-changer in Zimbabwe, had any of them been put into effect.

Endgame tries to be about many important issues, and ends up doing none of them justice.

For a film supposedly about the transformative power of faith, Captive has very little to preach in that regard, apart from the importance of purchasing megachurch pastor Rick Warren’s hit book, The Purpose Driven Life.

A better title would’ve likely been “121 Minutes in Purgatory,” since that’s essentially where audiences will find themselves residing during the entirety of this dreary slog down a familiar road paved with painfully good intentions.