Mike Scott

Almost feels as if it is two different films. One is the opening 20 minutes or so, in which most of the screwball comedy takes place. The other comes when Yimou gets on with the real story. That's where the payoff comes in.

It’s early yet, but “Challengers” is already among the best films of the year so far.

It's a lovely bit of blood-pressure-lowering cinema that never betrays its simple conceit.

Seeing Brannaman work in the warm, sun-dappled documentary Buck makes it clear why he was such a perfect fit for Redford's film: Few people can handle horses the way Brannaman does.

A documentary that is equal parts sweet science, brutal art and masterful filmmaking.

A surprisingly uplifting examination of life and loss.

As outrageous and fun as Babylon can be, it feels even more self-indulgent than happy hour on Mardi Gras. Granted, excess is the point of it all. Even the film’s running time, at a bladder-busting 3 hours 9 minutes, tests limits. Making matters worse is that for most of the film’s first half, it’s all setting and no story. And, yet, I think I love it.

It triggers a sense of awe, for the pure, natural beauty it allows us to witness; for the raw, ruthless power it captures; and for its towering display of artistry.

Songs such as "We Shall Overcome," "Wade in the Water" and "This Little Light of Mine" are powerful to begin with. Listening to them, music-video-style, over footage shot during the era, however, elevates them.

The Red Turtle -- without saying a word -- offers much more than the standard animated film. It offers food for thought, cause for contemplation, and an appreciation for the beauty of being.

It's R-rated because it has grown-up things to say -- things about mortality, aging, guilt, regret, and about what happens when superheroes, tired of being superheroes, start thinking very dark, very human thoughts.

A crowd-pleaser, through and through.

Perhaps the best thing about The Five-Year Engagement is that it signals a touch of maturity creeping into the House of Apatow.

In the end, Mr. Turner ends up being the best kind of period drama. That is, it is a transportive one, whisking audiences away to a distinct time and place, while also providing no small amount of insight about its subject.

Mary Poppins is Mary Poppins; magic is what she does best. And magic is precisely what she delivers in a film that is -- since we're borrowing so much from the 1964 original -- nothing short of supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

Filmmaking is a product of the heart and the head, at least when it's at its best.

One heck of a fun film -- and the most enjoyable and rewarding superhero movie I've seen in a while.

Even if it is at times uncomfortable to watch, The Witness remains riveting, and even important, as an honest and unflinching examination of despair.

The magic is back at Pixar.

Makes for riveting viewing. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is among the more brisk 2 hours and 10 minutes I've spent in a theater in some time -- and it's easily the most rewarding of this year's summer tentpole films.

This is the kind of movie that almost begs for a second viewing, which, admittedly, isn't always a good thing. In the case of The Lobster, however, it is. It's a very good thing -- good and weird and wonderful.

Sharp, brisk and highly entertaining.

An adventure -- a wonderful, old-school adventure, the likes of which we don't see enough of any more. Lost cities notwithstanding, that makes it a kind of treasure all its own.

Perhaps the best thing about Seeking a Friend is that it never ceases to surprise, as Scafaria's script consistently defies Hollywood convention in the most congenial ways.

Even if something feels crazy -- whether it's falling in with a self-taught time-traveler, or buying into a charming but faintly flawed movie premise -- if you listen to your gut, wonderful things can happen.

Perhaps most interestingly, Gillespie's film is also in its own way, about all of us and our fascination with the Harding saga to begin with, boldly holding up a mirror for us to gaze into. What we see isn't exactly comforting. It might not even be correct. But it is certainly something to ponder.

The most impressive thing about Simien's film is his script, which he wrote. With multiple protagonists and multiple storylines to serve, he deftly manages to keep a number of balls in the air -- without losing sight of his film's purpose.

This is an affecting and emotional drama about the strength of the human spirit.

A great storyteller, however, is one who can entertain an audience in the moment -- but who also gives them something to think about, something for them to take home with them when the story ends, which is exactly what Polley does in Stories We Tell.

It’s an impressive cinematic accomplishment and a dandy bit of storytelling to boot.

Maybe it's a touch twee, but Curtis' film is far too uplifting, too life-affirming and too good-natured to do anything but embrace.

It's the little moments in Farhadi's film that are its most important, speaking every bit as loudly as its big, narrative-driving moments.

While those aforementioned blockbusters offer a welcome dose of escapism, The Rider traffics in something considerably more affecting: authenticity.

A sweet, thoughtfully composed story, and a darn fine film, to boot.

While Pariah starts out as a film with moments of predictability, it evolves into a smart, compelling -- and optimistic -- portrait of heartbreak and hope.

People had to see "Psycho." To this day, it stands as an Everest of big-screen suspense, having not just changed the way we watch movies, but also the way we make them.

Writer-director Markus Schleinzer's exceedingly dark drama -- guaranteed to make audiences squirm in their seats -- is emotionally unsettling.

Even with its flaws, the whole exercise makes for an affecting and effective film.

With each new scene, Schumer manages to offer wonderful little surprises. It wasn't long before I found myself excited at the beginning of each new sequence in Trainwreck, just to see how Schumer would make me laugh next.

So, yes, Land of Mine is a World War II movie -- but it's not likely a World War II movie you've seen before.

It's an engrossing film, rich with action and emotion.

A very human story and a very well-told one -- which, in the end, makes it very hard to forget.

Like everything else associated with it, the drama of Graduation is decidedly low-key. While that occasionally costs it a sense of forward momentum, it doesn't hold the film back from its ultimate goals. In fact, it contributes to it in some ways.

World War II dramas might be common enough, but, amid them all, Lore stands as an uncommon entry in the genre.

Mostly it's a celebration and a song of hope that maybe the ever-quickening world will see the error of its ways and once more embrace the staccato song of the humble typewriter.

Favreau's family-friendly fable, a blend of old-school storytelling charm and new-school animation techniques.

This is the kind of movie that is so embraceable that it floats smoothly over those imperfections almost unnoticed.

The result is a simple film -- one that doesn’t try to do too much from a story standpoint, perhaps to its detriment -- but one that has a definite sense of time and place. Every step of the way, it feels honest and genuine. In this case, that makes all the difference.

Formally, Berg's film is at its root a police procedural, albeit an exceptionally well-executed one.

Even if its stumbles a bit with its less-than-satisfying conclusion, the blend of humor, horror and grotesque whimsy on display throughout Tale of Tales combine to create what often feels like some sort of grown-up, far darker cousin to "The Princess Bride."

Speaking of good storytelling, Hancock knows a thing or two about that. Not only does the "Blind Side" director deftly navigate the double narrative of Saving Mr. Banks, but his film is also a visual treat.

This is nothing if not an important film. It is important for the bullied to see, if for no other reason than to realize they aren't alone, and it is important for the bullies to see as well as for the parents of both groups so everyone can understand just how devastating the problem is.

Inside Llewyn Davis isn't as goofy as 2008's "Burn After Reading," nor as solemn as 2009's "A Serious Man," but it's an embraceable film just the same.

It's called Chico & Rita, but their film could just as easily have been titled "Chico & Cuba." In both cases, it's a film are about a long-lost love, and in both cases it is steeped in such a pitch-perfect sense of place -- and affection -- that you can almost smell the cigar smoke as it unfolds.

Yes, there are higher-profile films out there this year, and there are films with more resonant messages. But there are few that include so many captivating performances in such an involving story.

Without a doubt, stupid, but it's willfully stupid, built in the comic style of "The Hangover" and "Due Date." Better yet, it also is genuinely funny, which is the point.

It is small, it is smart, it is quirky.

It is fast, it is fun.

What's more -- and here's where Abrams' brilliance is on full display -- you don't need to know a Class M planet from a hole in the ground to enjoy it all.

With Deepwater Horizon, Berg strikes an unlikely but impressively delicate balance. On one hand, his film honors the men and women killed and injured in the explosion off Louisiana's coast. At the same time, it works just as well as a fast-moving and absorbing disaster drama.

For appreciators of fine acting, it's a film well worth seeing, as well as one worth toasting - if only with ginger ale.

Under the Skin is, in short, a film that does just that: gets under one's skin, shining a light on what it means to be human -- even if what we end up seeing is something less than comforting.

Khan in particularly is wonderful in Batra's film, which takes the time to indulge in quiet moments that Khan expertly fills with his expressive face and sense ease in front of a camera.

Ali and Mortensen are both fantastic in their respective roles. Every bit as important is the surprisingly charming script, which uses humor to soften its touchy subject matter.

Like Paddleton itself, Romano's performance isn't flashy. It isn't dripping with self-awareness or desperation. Rather, it's quietly, subtly beautiful. And it deserves to be seen.

Killing of a Sacred Deer -- which most assuredly couldn't have sprung from the mind of any other filmmaker -- will deliver a moviegoing experience that is impossible to forget.

In addition to being the most accessible and purely enjoyable of Lee's film in years, it's also one of his most important.

Stands as the best of this year's movies about Dunkirk.

Josh Safdie and Ronald Bronstein's story has no apparent qualms with throwing various far-fetched twists at its audience, but the film's overall tone -- which is rooted in a sobering reality, as opposed to the glorified outlook of so many other crime dramas -- lends it a sense of thoughtfulness and emotional resonance.

The surprise is that Captain Phillips is a surprise in the first place, pitching and rolling tirelessly like the sea on which it is set and, in the process, becoming one of the most enjoyable and well-made movies to hit theaters this year.

Like everyone else in Russell's cast, Lawrence appears to be having a blast in the role. It's downright contagious.

Chimpanzee is so skillfully crafted, and the big-hearted outcome so endearing and entertaining, that any narrative liberties taken to aid in the telling of this prehensile tale are not only forgivable but welcome.

Still, none of that holds back Bahrani's film from becoming a thought-provoking treatise on the self-perpetuating and dehumanizing nature of greed, which more often than not spawns desperation in others, which in turn spawns greed, which spawns more desperation, which spawns greed ...

Boyle, Sorkin and company might not have invented the iPhone or changed the way people viewed technology, but it does something the real Steve Jobs had trouble doing: It offers a genuine peek at the man behind the turtleneck, and in the process finds a way to connect with its viewers.

Amour is a far cry from the warm-and-fuzzy version of love that most people are probably looking for on Valentine's Day. This movie is more of a slap than a hug. But reality hurts sometimes - just like love does.

Katniss is gritty, she's flinty, she's intimidating -- and she doesn't have to compromise one iota of her femininity for it. And Ross' movie tells her story wonderfully.

That's not to say the sobering Take This Waltz is nearly as emotionally agonizing as "Blue Valentine." Still, it's every bit as truthful in its examination of the evolution, and subsequent devolution, of love.

The sum total is a film with great music, a great story and a great vibe in general -- not to mention those Carney-crafted moments, built around joy, possibility and self-transformation. In other words: Carney has given us another pearl.

Rush is just that -- a rush, and a film that is sure to get audiences' engines going.

The result is intense and powerful, a full-color portrait of the importance of never surrendering.

A subtly innovative blend of cars, guns, music and old-school cool, it's also one of those increasingly rare creatures in Hollywood: an undeniably original movie.

While Graham Moore's screenplay isn't without its flaws, it brilliantly weaves into the story a case that being different shouldn't necessarily be a negative thing. In fact, The Imitation Game argues in no uncertain terms that those differences can be something to celebrate, not to "cure."

A memorable emotional journey -- and reminds us once more why Granik is such an intriguing filmmaker to watch.

This is the kind of movie that will take different people on different journeys. The one common thread is that, for most people who take the time to truly consider it, that journey will be a thoughtful and meaningful one.

An unflinchingly ugly -- but downright mesmerizing -- tale that plumbs the depths of human immorality and, along the way, offers a dash of subtle commentary on just how far we, as a 312 million-member nuclear family, might have lost our way.

Certainly one of the more engaging and alluring films released so far in 2017.

In ParaNorman, Butler, Fell and company have crafted a refreshingly enjoyable bit of family entertainment. In the process, they've also made the best animated film to hit theaters so far this year.

Open-ended and decidedly un-Hollywood, it is faintly dissatisfying, especially coming on the heels of such as engaging and crisply presented story. But it offers movie-goers a wonderful opportunity to roll it all around in their heads and discuss it, even debate it, as they drive back to that cozy little cult compound they call home.

This much is sure: Salinger would have hated this movie. But he would have hated it for the very reason that others will like it: because it takes an honest-to-goodness crack at unlocking that mystery of a man and at answering key questions the publishing world and the reading public have been asking ever since he forsook them. Nothing phony about that.

It's not a perfect film. There's still room for Cianfrance to grow as a storyteller. But it is entirely rewarding -- and I, for one, can't wait to see where he takes us next.

A highly enjoyable -- and, for better or for worse, a very Tarantino -- movie.

Here, Lowery isn't trying to convince us of anything, other than the fact that he's got a dandy of a story to tell. Then, he proceeds to deliver it.

Merely from a film-study standpoint, it's an interesting exercise.

Here is a film that not only entertains, but also educates and -- thanks to Jodo's deep confidence and energetic artistic optimism -- one that also inspires.

Stone is generally given to deep thinking -- eternal fates are on the line. Not only does that lend the riveting and intense Savages a certain gravity, but it's also what separates his film from, say, your favorite Guy Ritchie movie. Here, we find an appealing depth amid the appalling violence.

Lucas Hedges is terrific in the lead role of a sneaky movie that, rather than preaching and shouting, becomes something uplifting, something hopeful, something moving and something important.

Simply, this is a story that needs to be told, one that proves that sometimes the past shouldn't be relegated to the past. It also makes The Look of Silence an unassailably essential and necessary film.

Not only is the result edifying, but it's also rewarding. And it's a heck of a lot cheaper than a therapy session.