Nell Minow

An existential story that is a less bleak and more scenic version of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, a psychological journey about connection, regret, memory, and meaning.

The ignorant and deeply painful misrepresentation of [Davidson's] condition at the BAFTAs shows just how much this film will do to make all of us think twice before judging someone.

It is utterly predictable, but thanks to the charm of its charismatic stars, some of the world’s most spectacularly beautiful scenery, and that fairy-tale gloss, it is beguilingly watchable.

It draws us in with acutely observed details and relatable characters that portray universal conflicts, all with nuance and good humor.

We might not come away understanding Jacobs or his world better, but we can still enjoy spending time with him.

Hoppers is Pixar at its best, a story with warmth, humor, exciting action, endearing characters, and a reassuringly expansive notion of community.

This movie is designed for an audience already dedicated to the music of Millard and Timmons, and to the particular Christian tradition they represent. Those who are already fans will appreciate this chance to share his story, but those who do not know him may find it uninspiring.

It’s not a good sign when we find ourselves admiring the background art more than what is happening in front of it, but it is more imaginative than the characters and story.

The question of how we see our history and who gets to decide is powerfully presented, with respect and insight, in the documentary “Natchez.”

The film is deeply sympathetic to the impossibly difficult choices these girls face and respectful of their efforts to do better for their babies than their parents did for them.

It is a movie of moments. But some of those moments are so good, its optimism is so refreshing, its dialogue so bright, and its characters and performances so endearing, it well rewards a watch.

Every bit as exciting and heartwarming and imaginative as the Oscar-winning original and maybe even funnier.

In Your Dreams is an exciting, imaginative, and sometimes funny adventure story about a sister and brother who try to use their dreams to change their reality. But it is also a wise and touching story about the challenges of family and of change.

It is like watching a flower bloom, delicately and compassionately portrayed by writer/director Tommy Dorfman and a beautiful performance by Fogelmanis.

The voice talent and character design are second-tier, and there are too many characters. But the action scenes are exciting, and the pacing, along with its reassuring humor and some nice character arcs, makes it a mildly appealing watch.

The Librarians is a documentary about the hysterical, unfounded, personal, and sometimes violent attacks on librarians. It is also about their unwavering commitment to making facts, literature, and inspiration available to anyone.

We experience the sharp pain of a sad loss, a young father and a beloved neighbor and friend. But the larger story, the one about the failure of the Israeli military to respond quickly, about the normalization of having to have a safe room in every home, about the culture of a country where every citizen serves in the military, and about the return to Murrow’s perceptive warning 70 years ago is what we will carry with us.

The Summer Book is a haiku of a movie, conveying profound thoughts about time, memory, loss, and nature through a simplified, meditative, cinematic language of exquisite images and gentle music.

Lurie is especially good at the narrative and character elements of the practice and game scenes, using them to move the story forward and build to the kind of resolution we look for in underdog sports stories with compelling emotional stakes.

Looking Through Water wants to tell us about the importance of uncluttered connections to the natural world and to each other, but too often it ignores its own advice.

A tight, twisty script, meaningful stakes, a top director (Darren Aronofsky), and an A-plus cast have delivered a satisfyingly sharp thriller, “Caught Stealing.”

Cinematographer Mathias Herndl shows us that Floreana is not a postcard-pretty island paradise. Still, a harsh and unyielding setting, and Hans Zimmer’s score evokes increasing uneasiness as the story builds to a climax of violence and chaos.

The film was originally titled “North Star.” Yet, despite a few moments of connection and insight, that is precisely what this story is missing.

Audiences are likely to see this film as more resigned to the inevitability of permanent conflict than providing any insight in how to move away from it.

The message about never confusing kindness with weakness is a valuable life lesson and a reminder of why the Smurfs are so enduringly beloved.

Juan Pablo Di Pace’s movie about memory, longing, time, and family is like a set of Russian nesting Matryoshka dolls.

The isolation of the setting, the elliptical dialogue, the inserts of apparently archival anthropological images, and a spare score, sometimes just one sustained note, all give “Hot Milk” a dreamlike quality, the kind of dreams that, at least while we’re dreaming, make more sense than reality.

The documentary features some archival footage, but its power lies in the vivid, heartfelt interviews with the surviving twins and Richter and her husband, who respond to sensitive and sympathetic questions from filmmakers Perri Peltz and Matthew O’Neill.

Children new to the story will enjoy some gross-out humor, slapstick naughtiness, and the reassuring theme that families of all kinds, including those we choose, can be devoted to the idea of ohana.

The setting is more than a century ago, but the longing for love and the struggle for intimacy are universally human.

In filmmaker Yael Melamede’s biographical film about her mother, pioneering Israeli architect Ada Karmi-Melamede, the two ways of seeing the world and telling a story come together.

It is remarkable how often movies, which usually take years from the first word of the script to the opening date, can be uncannily timely.

If we were supposed to take this movie literally, the metaphors would feel unforgivably heavy-handed. But if we think of it as a poetic, impressionistic meditation on life, death, love, art, and, yes, light, with excellent performances from the entire cast, we can be invited into its world.

The script, by James Handel and director Matt Winn, is tightly constructed.

Sneaks is an exciting, funny, heartwarming, joyful, and endearingly wise adventure, set in a dazzlingly vibrant New York City, with lively music by composer Terrace Martin and songs from producer Mustard.

A Nice Indian Boy is nowhere near the flamboyance of DDLJ, but it brings that same sense of the joy, the anxiety, and yes, the bigness of love to a wonderfully warm-hearted romance.

It is the story of Dr. Audrey Evans (Natalie Dormer), whose accomplishments in diagnosis, treatment, and support for young patients and their families could fill at least three movies. “Audrey’s Children” manages to combine all three in a solid, often engaging and inspiring drama, anchored by Dormer’s committed performance.

Some parts of the film work better than others, but none of it has the sweetness and imagination of the animated feature. This “Snow White” is not the fairest of them all. It’s just, well, fair.

Director Craig Johnson and screenwriter Kent Sublette (“Saturday Night Live”) find a nice balance for the boo-surprises, creepiness, and humor, with a resolution that brings everything and everyone together.

The movie is a very sincere and good-hearted adaptation, but it loses focus by trying to include too many elements of the real-life story.

It is the compassion the film has for its characters that is the film’s true grace.

Dog Man, based on Dav Pilkey’s popular series of graphic novels for kids, is sublimely silly, a mixture of comedy, action, and heart, all done with such high spirits it seems effortless.

The Pivens, who literally grew up together and made this as a passion project, have a shared vision, and a level of comfort and communication that brings sincerity and authenticity to the performances at every level.

First-time screenwriter Stiles stumbles a bit in the book-to-movie adaptation. Some elements and characters that work better on the page with the main character narrating are clutter in a screenplay.

We may find ourselves agreeing with the skeptical podcasters and journalists who see Johnson as a kook or a crafty snake oil salesman who persuades gullible people that they have a problem and he has the answer.

Shields’ story is inspiring, beyond the training montage, the matches and medals, and the pep talks from Crutchfield. The film has a spacious generosity toward all of its characters, even Shields’ parents, reflecting her commitment to her family and community, as deep as her focus on winning boxing matches.

As a screenwriter, Kerr has a deep understanding of her characters and the complex dynamics of the relationship between Ben and Beth.

Anthony is as good at upending expectations as he is at upending opponents on the mat. If this movie would rather meet our expectations, it does so with sincerity that makes it a slim win on points.

The personal is political, but in this film that case is made more powerfully with the personal story than the flurry of clips or the theories about history.

Sometimes we just need a nice, cozy movie featuring a heartwarming true story and actors with British accents. And if Bill Nighy is one of them, well, that's just a bonus.

Its lessons about how kindness and inclusion benefit both the giver and the receiver are welcome, but its gentle reminder to view even the oldest and best-known story with fresh attention and connection may be even more meaningful.

The film’s look and sound are lyrical, providing an apt setting for the poets who recite their work and discuss the kind of communication that fills in the gaps left by recitations of fact, archival images, or dramatic re-enactments.

[Itô] wants us to see her when she is vulnerable and in pain. But the film itself is a testament to her courage.

Conclave is smart, provocative, sometimes funny, and determined to make us rethink our initial impressions. It challenges us to challenge ourselves and is wildly entertaining, one of the year’s standout films.

Kuras understands the unique position of the photographer as intrusive but unobtrusive, sensitive enough to see where the story is but removed enough to maintain observer status. However, as for more about who she was, Miller stays frustratingly out of focus.

It’s filled with stunning images of some of the world’s most beautiful mountains and canyons and heart-stopping GoPro footage that takes us into the air with the jumpers. It’s sometimes thrilling and sometimes horrifying as we see and hear terrible accidents.

Director Haroula Rose, who co-wrote the film with Coburn Goss, gives it a leisurely, lived-in feeling. The actors, especially Baker, bring layers to the characters that hold our interest, earn our affection, and make us reconsider Tolstoy—there is more than one way to be a happy family.

McKellen is the reason to see “The Critic.” This extraordinary actor could not wish for a character better suited to his depth of understanding and experience.

Screenwriter Jim Beggarly deftly combines believable characters with a solid narrative structure.

Good Bad Things is an intimate, small story about the gigantic issue that challenges and terrifies us all: the collision between the desperate need to be seen and loved and the fear that what people might see will repel rather than attract them.

There are dozens of carefully observed and touching moments in “Daughters,” which won both the Documentary Audience Award and the Festival Favorite Award at Sundance.

All of the participants have broad and deep experience, and it's fascinating to see them work through their options.

The film’s embrace of compassion and forgiveness for everyone is heartwarmingly spacious. It shimmers with grace.

Writer/director Liz W. Garcia plays it safe here, with a result that has no surprises but is effectively entertaining, thanks largely to Roberts’ performance, which she seems to be enjoying so much it would be impossible not to enjoy it with her.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus gives a performance of breathtaking vulnerability as the mother of a dying teenager in “Tuesday,” a film that tells the story of the most shattering loss of all without melodrama or a score filled with syrupy strings.

Gabizon is not making a documentary here or attempting any realism. “Longing” is a manifestation of how grief makes emotions overtake reason and the inherent resilience that sometimes requires you to come back to reality. That reality will be diminished but somehow make you whole.

The film carefully balances the most painful moments with glimmers of progress and hope and makes a powerful argument for looking at struggles so easily ignored.

This is a smart and loving movie about female friendship.

The themes of the film are so resonant that they create an immediate connection with the audience, but producer/star Judd and writer/director Alec Tibaldi address them with sincerity but not much depth. The film is more about mood than insight.

If they gave Oscars for bringing underwritten characters to life, Hathaway and Galitzine would be contenders.

There are so many ways to go wrong with this story, which we are told was inspired by an unidentified real father and son. Writer/director Uberto Pasolini does not let that happen, relying on the most ordinary details to take on greater and greater weight.

It is a compelling story, and the film is a combination of spectacular scenery, arduous exertion, inspiring pep talks, adolescent rebellion, emotional confrontations, and lessons learned by both the teenagers and their leader.

For this team and their coach, the long game is about whatever it takes to play and get on track to a championship, even if that means smiling at insults and swallowing their pride when the competition cheats. Ultimately, though, it's not about golf but about dedication, resilience, and the joy of finding you can do better than your dreams.

Like its predecessor, this film is perceptive about these impressive young women who display dedication, seriousness of purpose, and genuine public-spiritedness.

Given the complexity and near-fairy tale improbability of his real-life story, it is not surprising that Anthony is comfortable taking a break from plot to revel in the pure abstraction of movement. With this documentary, we can appreciate his story, and his relevé and pirouette.

It is really three movies in one, all watchable, but the pieces do not always mesh.

The flashback scenes are not as compelling as they try to be. The Hopkins scenes are more engaging, not just because we look forward to the re-enactment of the television reveal, but because the film is sharper at addressing the existential issues of purpose and meaning than it is in showing us the difficulties in rescuing the children.

It is actually not accurate to say that the documentary tells Lewitzky’s story. The best thing about the film is that it allows her to tell her own story.

It’s too bad this is not on a big screen, because the settings are filled with enticing details that bolster some of the weakness of the screenplay. Even on the smaller screen, though, the fresh, female-led take on the traditional tale, including a bit of a sisterhood-is-powerful twist near the end, makes it worth a watch.

Swank’s straightforward directness as an actor is just right for the plain-spoken, determined Sharon, who just might inspire some of us ordinary folks to try to be more.

The subject is one of the most innovative and influential composers of all time but the documentary that tells his story is very conventional, with chronological archival footage and talking head interviews given by the composer and his co-workers.

Nellie's world may feel scrambled, but McKendrick knows where she is going and how to take us with her.

Chen is influenced by the French New Wave, and there are echoes of "Bande à part" and “Jules and Jim.” But do not let the meandering series of scenes, underscoring the characters’ aimlessness, allow you to overlook Chen's precision in even the smallest detail.

It is an efficient thrill ride, running about 90 minutes, with every moment used as effectively as possible.

Director George Clooney understands the strength of this classic underdog story, and he knows how to tell it, with gorgeous visuals and heartfelt performances.

The show is smoothly staged before an appreciative audience, with well-chosen theatrical touches.

This is not the best of the family body switch movies, and for sure, it is not the last, but the irresistible concept and outstanding cast make it a worthwhile family watch.

What makes a space feel safe? The small miracle of the Estonian film “Smoke Sauna Sisterhood” is that it does more than show us a blissfully safe space; it invites us inside.

It is sweet without being sugary, colorful, and very charming, with terrific voice talent and a lot of music. It’s the best of the three.

Despite strong work from Ben Mendelsohn, Daisy Ridley, and Gil Birmingham, director Neil Burger's adaptation is a medium-level thriller.

As Sergio and Chucho share the names of the teachers who inspired them, we see Chucho begin to reconnect with what led him to become an educator. If we are lucky, we have at least one teacher in our past who showed us what we are capable of. If not, Sergio can help remind us that it is never too late.

The film is fun to watch and occasionally illuminating, but is over-packed and barely touches on the problems of scammers, the murky world of “influencers,” copycats who engage in dangerous or harmful behavior, or the infinite regression of people filming their reactions or their friends’ or children’s reactions to what they are watching.

She Came to Me is beautifully performed and directed with great charm, unexpected wisdom, and sweetness.

There are some nice lessons about confidence and teamwork, a more-funny-than-scary villain, and impressive guest stars voicing minor characters, including Kristen Bell, James Marsden, Lil Rel Howery, and Kim Kardashian (as a pampered poodle social media star) and her children.

This film is in conversation with existential issues of meaning and with contemporary concerns about the failures of institutional authority, though is not always clear what he wants us to think about it.

There's a sweetness to this story that reflects Adam Sandler’s real-life love for his family.

As the conflicts move from the annoying to the existential, the one-room setting is appropriately depressing and claustrophobia-inducing.

Director Matthew López makes an impressive feature debut with Red, White & Royal Blue, a love story that skillfully blends the familiar beats of a classic movie romance with the distinctive details of two of the world’s most public young men trying to keep their relationship private.