Nick Allen

This is a story that errs toward the familiar instead of embracing strangeness, its freaky kid becoming the distraction when you just want more time with the hole in the ground.

Broad themes like staunch hope, and vital human connection, become cheap sentiments, vanishing into air. “IO” isn’t science fiction storytelling distilled so much as it is vaporized.

Much stranger than fiction, and yet it tells a story that makes perfect sense in the age of influencers and the general need to be seen.

With Rockaway, you don’t have to know all the details of Budion’s life—or have even seen “Stand By Me”—to get a strong feeling of what’s honest here, and what isn’t.

But even with its all-around noble dramatic intent, particularly from Butler, the film struggles to leave a mark.

While Nona does eventually reward audience members with stark drama grounded in a daily nightmare, it risks cheating itself of its full impact, pretending for most of its running time to be a fairytale it certainly is not.

DriverX is worse than just one of the year’s most vapid movies, it’s an out-and-out nightmare of late-stage capitalism.

Wu takes an observational, matter of fact stance to these different lives and this overall enterprise, reminiscent of how Kyoko Miyake took us through the looking glass of Japan’s idol culture in “Tokyo Idols,” another doc on a similar sociological beat that would make for a great double feature or essay.

There’s a big meaning to all of this, and yet the movie can’t eloquently express it, even though the metaphor is in the title.

Infinite Football is as casual as a conversation with a stranger that ends up going for more than hour — the kind where just by being attentive and sporadically asking questions, you take away someone’s life story, and understand the one passion they could talk about on end.

It's one of the year's most convoluted original screenplays, but is probably best taken as a test in plot summarizing.

There are vikings in this movie, and there is destiny. Pure to its junky intentions, if you like your movies served to you without confusion as to the character or their narrative arc, here it is: The destiny of a viking.

Excels when it dives into the complications of race and authority, articulated vividly by three excellent lead performances.

It’s the closest you can subject people to a horror potluck without being "The Cabin in the Woods." So why can’t the six writers of this story have more fun with this premise?

Even if White Rabbit feels like the ultimate acting reel, it’s albeit for a talent you immediately start to root for.

It’s always a thrill to think you’re seeing one movie, only to find out that someone is working overtime to offer you a second, different one, and that’s what Vesely does when treating ghosts as an impassioned metaphor for gentrification, and refocusing his monster mash around what makes a true ally.

There’s plenty to explore about people who hide their true selves behind text and decoys, but Sierra Burgess is a Loser is dumber and more desperate than any episode of “Catfish,” even the one where a guy thought he was dating Katy Perry for five years.

Boarding School has some edge by being told from a child’s perspective, even though it's not for kids. A lot of great directors have told this kind of story, and while Guillermo Del Toro might be the most popular living one to do it, it’s Louis Malle that comes to mind.

The power in this story from comes from its very distilled manner: it tells a timeless story about hard work by completely immersing us in the steps of process, focusing on an act of incredible physical commitment.

The biggest success for A Whale of a Tale is in how it corrects the biggest flaw of “The Cove,” which came from an inclination we all have: to cast real life people as one-dimensional heroes and villains; good and evil.

The film is essentially one long joke about a dick, with various gags built into that concept, as if it wants to be the movie that says the word “dick” more than any production with roots to the Judd Apatow family tree. It might just be the winner of that designation, or at the very least, it deserves some type of special achievement award.

But the movie is best of all a showcase for Dyrholm’s full-fledged interpretation of Nico, who is distinctly removed from the poppiness anyone might have for her earlier work, whether it's the "Velvet Underground & Nico" or her solo record "Chelsea Girl."

It’s a B-movie with a blockbuster attitude, and not in a fun way.

If you’re hoping to see a production just like the one that would have been done in 1596, this ain’t it. But Mott’s version is a hell of a good time in its own right.

A wannabe-thriller about artificial intelligence with little wit of its own.

Though it has a few big laughs, Uncle Drew mistakes its goofy pitch for a free pass to be very simple with its comedy, and sappy with its emotions

A documentary with a defeated spirit, but with fleeting glimmers about why the oppressed keep playing.

In spite of his low-key ambitions, debut filmmaker Simon Baker doesn’t yet have the eloquence as a director to get you on board.