Michael Frank

González-Nasser captures something essential about Sofia’s life: the exhaustion. The film, more comedy than drama, breaks both the viewer and Sofia down in equal parts, pushing either to continue this never-ending day, showing the pressure of a job that many others tell her is “so cool.”

The writer-director never rushes this story, but still wastes no time in the film––each scene contains weight and value. Each moment builds on the memories of Shula and of the women in this family, fractured together, constantly reminded of monstrosities, somehow still taking steps forward.

The Friend reminds us of the immeasurable role that dogs, and pets, play in our lives.

If you watched Reading Rainbow as a kid, the doc will leave you in puddles. If you didn’t, it will still likely leave you with tears in your eyes—happy tears.

LaRoy is the work of a director with unmistakable joy for this genre, approaching the material with a welcome earnestness.

Bryon deserves the focus, yet the film never paints any broader strokes. Transition works because of that one person, but it cannot climb any further under these limitations.

The Treasure of Foggy Mountain, like other SNL features that have come before it, runs long, losing the initial charm of its leads and the interplay that make Please Don’t Destroy’s skits funny instead of exhausting. The comedy troupe might have a great comedy in them; this isn’t it.

The urgency in Beyond Utopia cannot ever be understated. The consequences of the risks taken by these people––both the defectors and Pastor Kim––cannot be undervalued. Each risks everything in this journey.

It’s moving in its minuteness, in the difficulty of daily living for two men trying to survive an intensive, low-income job. Still, it returns to the issue of friendship and how, as people age, they begin to grow apart.

It becomes a mess of concepts, issues, and messages, an amalgamation of errors in tone and story.

Statham is continually up to the challenge, kicking, punching, and fighting people and sharks alike. He’s on a run of mid-tier movies unlike anyone else in Hollywood, and once he gets going, jet-skiing around an island taking on three megs, the film finally transforms into pure entertainment.

This is a studio offering that coasts on likability and enjoyment––luckily, there’s enough of that fun to go around.

Gorgeous to watch, with enough sly comedy to maintain levity, Fremont is notable in its decision to be small and intimate. It finds romance in everyday interactions, and in the easy pleasure of opening up a cookie and reading one’s fortune.

This feature debut represents a big swing for the Chilean director, a thoughtful, deliberate drama bursting with ecological and personal imagery. A patient narrative rewarding the patient viewer, Cow‘s an abstract portrait of a family and environment in crisis.

Park’s debut comedy leans on its cast and a smart screenplay to offer up a social commentary both bitter enough to make a point and agreeable enough to make people laugh, even leave with a smile on their faces. While it’s a tricky line to balance, Park (barely) pulls it off.

Chen’s film doesn’t contain the care needed for this story, wasting the talent of Erivo in a role that underserves her already-known abilities. The script holds much of that fault for attempting to capture the totality of West African politics and the entirety of the refugee experience into a single distant, empty character. It’s ill-advised and unconsidered, forgetting to add a semblance of thoughtfulness.

Though the film might be reminiscent of other walk-about-town rom-coms that came before, Rye Lane carries a sense of freshness.

Jamojaya has the bones to be a good film, possibly even a great one. Its director’s insistence on style turns that potential into mediocrity, ending with a film that’s passable at best. It leaves audiences with indifference––nothing more.

More than just misunderstood, his characters are underwritten and underserved. Thus the expected emotion never arrives. The gut punch never comes, even as music swells. All of this fear fizzles; message, story, and figures become transient. It starts with so much promise, only to end as a letdown–like waiting for the end of the world only for the storm to pass.

Fairyland is McNairy’s film. He ripped my heart out. He’ll likely do the same to the majority of viewers, leaving wet eyes and sniffling nose. Fairyland is McNairy’s to care for, to love, to let go. In return, he gives his greatest performance.

Brewster and Stephenson struggle to penetrate the armor of this famous poet, focusing instead on her career, her health, and the way that others look at her. Most often they do so with deep admiration, a longing to be fixed by Giovanni.

Capturing a portion of that contrast, due to the closeness and interest of its subjects, The Mission moves beyond an optimistic portrait and into murkier territory, making for a more valuable document. If only Anderson went even further and muddied up the glassy waters.

Zlotowski’s fifth feature excels thanks to a compelling lead performance from Efira, giving insight into one woman’s relationship to motherhood. Her wants, her love, and her losses are all on display, built up only to be let down. Baked in a stern reality, the drama never loses that central, necessary thread.

Englert’s first feature isn’t low on creativity, but visibly lacks cohesion. It’s difficult to connect to, disparate in its own storytelling, mood, and tone. It’s an audacious script and directorial vision, falling short.

There’s not necessarily anything new in Parmet’s script, despite her care towards this character of Jem. The film lacks surprise, and in this case, is missing a level of engagement.

For Forster and his leading man, the drama is a step down from previous work, an emotionally telegraphed, near-manipulative adaptation of a better book already adapted in Sweden to far greater results.

If obviously silly, it represents an obsession with cutting-edge tech, the shininess of something new, and making our lives easier, lazier, and less connected. Although this commentary is blatant, the film—with all its insanity—remains highly enjoyable: real good, real fun, real simple cinema.

The film plays as one extended memory—sometimes more bitter, sometimes more sweet, always a combination of both.