Michael Rechtshaffen

A shrill but often funny anti-romantic comedy from L.A. filmmakers Alex Kavutskiy and Ariel Gardner.

It may not be so quixotic as to suggest the Middle East conflict could be resolved over a plate of creamy hummus, but the vibrant culinary documentary Breaking Bread nevertheless makes a mouthwatering case for dinner table diplomacy.

The Dawn Wall transcends initial conventional sports documentary trappings, emerging as an affecting portrait of conquering personal limitations.

This well-made epic boasts carefully researched production values and the talents of classically trained actors, but by literally playing it by the book, the picture loses something dramatic in the translation.

Drone is a solid, thought-provoking documentary that raises some pertinent questions even if they may not originate from the most objective of places.

Though occasionally distracting, the quirky visual poetry eventually proceeds to work its magic.

It would be hard to imagine a more entertaining corrupt-cop documentary than The Seven Five, a slick and fascinating portrait of disgraced New York policeman Michael Dowd.

Citizen Soldier makes for an honorable addition to the densely populated modern war film field.

Ultimately goes the distance, it gets the job done with a halfhearted bunt rather than a solid line drive.

Roth has managed the rare feat of actually improving on the original.

Ip Man 3, set in Hong Kong circa 1959, combines the customary, inventively choreographed action with an unexpected emotional depth, proving as hard to resist as its entertaining predecessors.

Retains considerable entertainment value on the strength of Herzog's never-dull, very personal narrating style.

Gunn maintains the ideal glib pitch for most of the picture, flirting with camp but never hanging around it long enough to water down the squirm-inducing stuff.

In the case of Yusra and Sara Mardini’s remarkable survival story, their empowering journey ultimately proves more rewarding than the conventional destination.

Once again, the three young leads give committed performances, with Lautner's character allowed a larger share of the spotlight this time around.

Moore and Neeson beautifully underplay their roles, lending screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson's ("Secretary") dialogue an unexpected, palpable poignancy.

Although James' muted performance comes across as a bit lifeless alongside Kingsley's more colorful, masterfully modulated turn, the characterizations nevertheless allow for satisfyingly complex, real-world renderings of conventional heroes and villains.

Pitch-perfect performances bring it all home, particularly that of Danish leading man Mikkelsen.

Making a late appearance in the Iraq War movie cycle, the impressively acted “The Yellow Birds” manages to leave an affecting mark even as it constantly struggles to find a distinctive voice of its own.

Inevitably, the oddball Elmore Leonard-meets-the Little Rascals conceit loses some of its wacky effectiveness, but while Corben might not hit this one out of the park, Screwball energetically rounds the bases.

Even more so than last time out, Smith focuses a great deal of attention on the details—the day-to-day minutiae of the facility’s rescue and rehab work that elevate what could have otherwise been another well-intentioned but soggy fish-out-of-water yarn.

Documentary filmmaker Julie Gavras has made a successful transition into narratives with the remarkably assured, thoroughly delightful Blame It on Fidel.

Goes beyond the well-documented Warsaw Ghetto uprising to take a fascinating look at seven lesser-known individual paths to resistance.

The documentary is not so much a call to action as a moving portrait of individuals who devote their lives to understanding the environmental shifts that all too soon might manifest themselves on our own altered shorelines.

What’s Love Got To Do With It? serves as a master class in how to adhere faithfully to the classic romantic-comedy template and yet still emerge with something that delivers delightfully on both sides of the hyphen.

Proving that with solid direction, tight writing and strong performances an American remake can actually be as good as the foreign-language original, The Last Kiss, an unusually perceptive dramedy about contemporary relationships also manages to stand quite capably on its own two feet.

Despite that nagging whiff of familiarity, there are enough character quirks and inspired bits of funny business to carry this amiable if slight tale.

Although he’s working with familiar tropes, writer-director Felix Thompson, in his feature debut, wisely keeps clear of big, dramatic moments, maintaining instead a palpable naturalism through dialogue that has an unmannered, improvised feel and acting that follows suit.

Despite the intermittent lags, the production proves to be more than a salvage operation thanks mainly to those engagingly choreographed performances, led by an irresistibly charismatic title turn from Alden Ehrenreich who ultimately claims Solo as his own even if he doesn’t entirely manage to convince us he’s Harrison Ford.

Many of Gameau's findings won't come as earth-shattering revelations, but he takes a resourceful approach to presenting the material, coating all the inconvenient truths in kid-friendly, brightly colored graphics and zippy animations.

The film, with its intersecting vignettes, might ultimately feel like more of a sampler platter than a sustaining smorgasbord, but it's effectively rooted in a lovely Morgan Freeman performance.

A neatly contained crime whodunit with a nifty setup and an expert lead performance from Samuel L. Jackson.

An elegantly mounted ghost story that's steeped plenty of dank Louisiana atmosphere.

Generally leaving the weightier political stuff to others, Mitch Dickman's lively documentary functions as both a handy pot primer and a telling portrait of the volatile, adapt-or-die climate that continues to hover over the newspaper industry.

The film is at its most potent delineating Hefner's role in the American civil rights movement, going beyond the pages of his magazine.

A quintessential Hollywood story that might have just as easily been called "Karma."

Quite an entertaining genre piece boasting a terrifically sinewy lead performance from Wanda De Jesus.

There's a palpable element of honesty in Lapica's writing and lead performance that gives this indie production, the edge over other troubled teen dramas.

And although the film might stint on full renditions of their songs, one of the few played in its entirety is a gorgeous, relaxed acoustic version of “Honky Tonk Women” delivered by Mick and Keith in a vacant dressing room.

The 1976 John Carpenter original has been reworked enough to give the urban thriller a distinct flavor of its own, and stars Ethan Hawke and Laurence Fishburne provide enough gravitas to keep things involving.

The film effectively illustrates how the words “Most Likely to Succeed,” written under a yearbook photo can serve as both a cheering vote of confidence and an awfully daunting expectation.

Though the picture is not without its wow-inducing, SFX-driven moments, that potent X-factor is considerably diminished in Singer's absence.

One doesn’t need to be into pugilism or well-versed in Gaelic to appreciate Rocky Ros Muc, a documentary that is as much about roots and identity as it is a portrait of Irish American boxer Sean Mannion.

John Waters has returned to trashy form with what is unquestionably his most outrageous film since those heady "Pink Flamingos" days.

Informed by actual events, the unfailingly fervent Unsilenced overcomes some problematic scripting and evident logistical challenges to emerge as a moving portrait of conscious resistance in the face of political oppression.

While one wishes Carré, who shares screenplay credit with Charles Spano, might have hung those stirring visuals on more involving plotting, Embers nevertheless makes a strong, not to mention timely, impression.

Playfully taunting title aside, Mullinkosson’s film is an affectionate portrait of a fraternal bond that no tribal council could ever tear apart.

Seeing Sonia confidently gripping the leopard print-covered steering wheel of her late model Oldsmobile and getting on with her day serves as a potent and especially timely lesson about living a compassionate, vibrant life that doesn’t have any room for hatred and bitterness.

Handling it all with a detached, shrugging sense of doom, Odenkirk proves the right man for the job at hand in both of the film’s two tonally separate halves, and he’s supported by a colorful cast.

Credit a youthful, energetic spirit, nicely conveyed by its cast of naturally-acting newcomers, a workable raw-footage construct and a spare but smartly spent special effects budget for the satisfying end result.

The success of “The Absent One,” like its Department Q predecessor, ultimately rides on the shoulders of Kaas’ intriguing Morck.

While it doesn’t venture far from its evident stage roots, neither does “What We Do Next,” a sinewy, tautly calibrated morality play, ever stray from the decidedly contemporary issues at its complex core.

Although the substance could have used more visual style, Ray tells an uncluttered story and draws strong performances from his actors.

While it might not amount to epic animated filmmaking in terms of scope and invention, Epic, a 3D, CG adventure-fantasy from Blue Sky Studios, nevertheless makes for pleasantly engaging viewing.

40 Years in the Making: The Magic Music Movie transcends the trippy nostalgia to deliver a moving message about the healing power of reconciliation.

While its insights into the consequences of selective memory loss continue to resonate the world over, at its heart, Amnesia is a beautifully acted depiction of confronting regret.

With a charismatic cast headed by Seamus McLean Ross and Samuel Bottomley, California Schemin’ is a nimbly paced yarn that may not have set out to reinvent the wheel, but makes for a buoyant excursion nonetheless.

A straight-ahead but affecting documentary that acknowledges the stubborn obstacles inherent in their efforts to make a difference.

It's the affable cast, headed by Drew Barrymore and John Krasinski, that really makes the picture so widely accessible.

Although Vallee's remarkably assured film, which clocks in at more than two hours, proves that it's possible to have too much of a good thing, Canada's official Oscar submission for best foreign-language feature still manages keep up the entertaining yet emotionally satisfying pace sufficiently to earn audience accolades.

Sufficient cheap thrills and enough of the prevailing camp quality.

Many moments of laugh-out-loud comedy. But somehow those moments never add up to a fully satisfying viewing experience.

Although, structurally speaking, the production follows a safely familiar path, it doesn’t require a lot of fancy footwork when you’ve got an enthusiastic on-camera fan base including Bruce Springsteen, Scorsese, Eric Clapton, Taj Mahal and Van Morrison, a terrific storytelling arc, a treasure trove of archival footage and, naturally, those iconic songs.

Writer-director Jamie Sisley’s autobiographical first feature strikes a genuine, sobering chord.

Despite the inherent familiarity, the quietly observed Low Tide, graced by a mournful, undulating score by composers Brooke Blair and Will Blair, nevertheless packs a genuine depth.

Each sequence is masterfully calibrated for maximum lip-quivering effect, swelling strings and all.

It's a safe bet that exposure to the film should cause audiences to make room on their iPods for some serious downloading.

Although comparisons to the memory-challenged machinations of "Memento" are inevitable, the plotting here takes a more traditionally linear path.

While it only occasionally rises to the clever levels of its inspired jump-off point, Smallfoot, an animated romp about a civilization of Yetis who make the discovery that the legendary pint-size human isn’t a mythological creature after all, carries sufficient charm and a bit of unexpected depth to justify its breezy existence.

Effectively anchoring the picture is Keke Palmer's lovely lead performance as Akeelah Anderson.

Co-directors Kate McIntyre Clere and Mick McIntyre paint a decidedly damning picture.

A thoroughly conventional romantic comedy with all the usual trimmings.

The end result admittedly favors tone over substance, accentuated by Jeff Grace’s playful, mock Morricone score and character turns that affectionately flirt with conventions without giving way to outright parody.

Like any well-researched piece worth its weight in MSG, the documentary uses food as an angle to something else: a look at immigration and at a melting pot stirred by prejudice and persecution, later seasoned with adaptation, innovation and acceptance.

The production comes by its authenticity naturally -- and not only because several of the cast members (fascinating faces all) happen to be related.

Engagingly anchored by character actor John Hawkes, Small Town Crime is a satisfyingly quirky serving of frisky pulp fiction.

A Kid from Coney Island proves to be as surprising and affecting as the unorthodox career trajectory of its subject, basketball player Stephon Marbury.

Despite all that loopy energy, Dicks: The Musical still can’t help but remain an inescapably one-note proposition, albeit a subversively melodic one.

Jane Got A Gun may not have reinvented the wagon wheel, but it rolls out as a sturdy, well-crafted genre piece despite its rocky road to the screen.

Carmine Street Guitars is a leisurely Sunday stroll of a documentary.

Browne keeps it amusingly involving.

A lively and often enlightening documentary.

Carrey's most satisfying live-action effort since "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."

It is to Dance's considerable credit that he never lets the filmmaking overtake the understated storytelling.

The loneliness of the long-distance chess grandmaster is affectingly conveyed in Magnus.

South Korean filmmaker Kim Sung-hoon has clearly done his homework while injecting the action sequences with a terrific kinetic energy.

The film fittingly embraces the elements of camp and kitsch that played such a major role in defining the Nomi persona.

The 2006 summer movie season went out with a reasonable bang courtesy of Crank, a jacked-up, unapologetically mindless bit of ADD-prescribed escapism that more or less delivers on a nifty premise.

With its probing camera and spare piano score, the film effectively creates a clinically sterile environment that’s as spiritually devoid as the soul of its protagonist, and while the inevitable twist ending doesn’t land with the unsettling thud it might have, getting there is quite the page-turner.

Making his feature-length debut after forging a career making socially conscious short films, director Ward Serrill never takes his eye off the ball, maintaining a sharp storytelling focus distilled from those seven years worth of footage.

Eli Roth turns to modern-day Asian fright filmmakers as inspiration for his latest blood-soaked effort while demonstrating an intriguing, original voice of his own.

While the new edition doesn’t quite catch that inspired spark, there’s still plenty to enjoy here courtesy of those zippy visuals and a pitch-perfect voice cast led by the innately animated Steve Carell.

An agreeably loopy romantic comedy that bounces along effortlessly on the genuine chemistry of leads Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore.

A beguiling, multilayered drama.

While it might not bring much that's new to the coming-of-age playbook, British filmmaker Jim Loach's sensitively-observed dramedy, Measure of a Man, offers decisive proof that fresh and different is overrated when you've got a strong cast, a beautifully written script and fittingly measured direction.

Laurent and Dion’s passionate, off-the-beaten-path primer advocates thinking globally but acting locally with community-driven, grassroots alternatives that aren’t affected by any executive orders.

Accentuating the unrepentant Freedman (who has a distinctly monochromatic fashion sense) and her fellow interview subjects with fittingly artistic camera compositions, gallery-ready lighting and a refined strings-forward score, Made You Look makes for an exposé that’s suitable for framing.

May not offer up any fresh revelations, but this effectively assembled documentary puts it all in valuable, if depressing, perspective.