Noel Murray

While Retribution is far from Neeson’s best, it still mostly works, so long as you tune out the dialogue and focus on the hero’s twitchy face, waiting to see which will blow to smithereens first: his car or his patience.

What sets this film apart from other docu-memoirs is the way Sahakyan articulates how being the spokesperson for an atrocity can foster dissociation.

The Biz Markie story is not framed as a tragedy here. It’s a celebration of a lovable weirdo who made people happy.

The slam-bang stuff in this picture is too tediously routine. The movie is much better when it gets philosophical, pondering a world where everybody’s surveiling everybody else but nobody can agree on how to use that information to keep us all safe.

This absorbing, thoughtful film doesn’t take sides; that’s not James’ way.

Darkness is a harrowing and affecting story about young women trying to hold onto hope across the grim, unchanging days.

Even with all the metaphysical mayhem, the movie remains rooted in the lives and attitudes of its characters, and in the magnetic performances of Martini and Appleton.

This movie’s heart is in the right place, and its company is pleasant enough. But by its final half-hour, it starts to feel too much like a rote recitation from a rom-com to-do list.

If After the Bite ultimately has more questions than answers, it’s only because the film is reflecting the people it’s about, who see existential dangers everywhere and no easy way back to safety.

Like the movies covered within, Sharksploitation is undeniably entertaining — especially at its most preposterous.

The insights into influencer culture and the thirst for fame in Susie Searches aren’t exactly fresh. But as a Hitchcockian thriller with a slippery hero, this film can be ruthlessly effective.

The Beanie Bubble eventually runs out of steam. The snappy pace and colorful style — so attractive at first — later become alienating, keeping nearly all the characters locked into one dimension.

As an exhibition of visual style and acting prowess, “Mother, May I?” is impressive.

The bluntness keeps the film from approaching greatness, although history buffs and genre fans might appreciate a World War II story told from a unique, non-Western perspective.

For the most part, Fear the Night feels like it could have been made by almost anybody. It’s crafty enough, but it’s lacking LaBute’s usual acid wit and fearless provocations.

Despite the morbid preoccupation with diving’s dangers, The Deepest Breath is an intense and often beautiful movie, likely to appeal to fans of extreme sports documentaries like “Free Solo” and “Riding Giants.”

Even if the narrative feels a little forced, the movie still works.

The story takes a while to get going, then rambles a lot once the premise has been established. And the dialogue zooms along so fast that it can be hard to follow. But young filmmakers are supposed to take chances like this.

The effects look cheap, the Louisiana accents are broad and the characters are one-dimensional, but veteran B-picture stars Nicky Whelan (as a tough sheriff), Casper Van Dien (as a notorious criminal) and Louis Mandylor (as the raiders’ leader) all throw themselves into the film’s cheesy spirit.

A rushed, muddled ending — and a general lack of any cogent point — keeps “The Attachment Diaries” from being an Almodóvar-level success. But for fans of those seamy places where art and smut intersect, this movie is a nasty little treat.

It’s fascinating to hear the details of how prolific Blanchard was, before the law caught up with him. If he saw a vulnerability in a store, a museum or a bank, he felt compelled to exploit it. He’s half crook, half Type-A task manager.

The “Barcelona” edition is essentially a repeat of the first film, flaws and all.

Hawco and Gaitán are gifted enough actors to give a dialogue-heavy movie some layers and dynamism; and Beltrán and Pitts throw some intense challenges at their heroes, including bad weather, a poisonous snake and a terrifying corpse.

Ultimately, Pollard’s film is equal parts tribute and lament, as complicated as this country.

Having two main characters suffering from hauntings separately works against this movie’s narrative momentum, but it does allow Wilson and Teems to bounce from scare to scare, without much setup — or respite.

It’s as though we’re supposed to already know these people — as if The Crusades were a sequel to a movie we haven’t seen. There is some visual panache here, and scenes that show promise. But too much is missing.

Peter Nicks’ documentary Anthem is a broad-strokes film about a nuanced topic: the promises and failures of the American experiment.

No situation or character really gets a chance to breathe or grow here. Even the best casts can flail when the vibe is more antic than comic.

This movie is perhaps best described as a clunky but endearingly heartfelt DIY depiction of life among a group of LGBTQ+ kids, striving to live joyfully while being plagued by evil forces, anxious to eradicate them.

Sarah Snook gives a riveting performance as a mother going mad in Run Rabbit Run, a psychological thriller that’s mostly effective, even though its story is familiar and somewhat threadbare.

Even beyond the lessons learned though, “Wham!” is a treat for fans of ’80s culture. There haven’t been as many eras so filled with big personalities producing enduring work. Wham! walked among those giants, matching them stride for stride.

Director Jack Youngelson goes beyond the broad clinical definitions and shows how this condition worms its way into ordinary tasks and interactions, posing challenges that can be hard even for those suffering from PTSD to understand.

The Last Autumn mostly documents a way of life before it vanishes: the simple but nourishing meals, the hard manual labor, the neighborly pitching-in and the quiet hours looking out over ocean vistas like no other.

What makes this documentary a vital piece of Hollywood history is that it’s not as much about Hudson’s carefully managed public image as it is about the real joy and pleasure he experienced outside the spotlight — living not as some tortured romantic figure, but as someone who savored whatever the shadows could provide.

Nimona is imaginative and boisterous, just like its main character — the kind of inspirational free spirit who gets a kick out of shocking and tormenting anyone who won’t just let her be who she is.

Confidential Informant feels cribbed from dozens of other dirty cop stories, restaged with as little original detail as possible. It has the shape of a movie, but none of the stuff to make it move.

Director Roshan Sethi gives the musical interludes some visual pop; and the songs are genuinely hooky.

Even if Epstein and Friedman don’t fully document Mac’s vision, they do get across what it was and why it mattered. This movie is a lovingly crafted memento of a remarkable achievement, one that compressed Mac‘s life and much of modern history into 24 hours of wild stunts and show-stopping show-tunes.

The cold irony that Foster provocatively presents is that if the idiocy surrounding pain clinics hadn’t become too gross and widespread for the authorities to ignore, people like the Georges might still be getting rich off of addiction today.

This is a darkly astute study of how men in big groups can feel obliged to live up to the expectations of “boys will be boys” whether or not they actually enjoy it — and no matter where it may lead.

With the help of some vivid old photographs, their documentary reconstructs a world that was both darkly dangerous and strangely liberating.

There’s very little about Maximum Truth that’s unexpected: not the jokes, not the satire, and certainly not the plot. Barinholtz and O’Brien are funny enough to keep this movie bubbling along, even when it’s low on ideas.

More than anything, The Perfect Find is a strong showcase for Union, who gets to play a lot of notes as Jenna: funny, sexy, anxious, nostalgic, inspired. Even when the movie is too plain, its star is something special.

Like most westerns, Surrounded is about people trying to reinvent themselves on the frontier. But this is also one of those westerns with a cynical streak, where the hostility the characters are trying to escape hounds them mercilessly.

An absorbing and challenging film, capturing the frustration of being held in limbo by a system that seems to prioritize punishment over appeals.

This is a slight but insightful film that feels very real.

The story being told lacks depth and insight; but it does have snap and polish, and it features a lot of astonishing art. In a way it’s a true Stan Lee experience.

Even without its paranormal elements, Jagged Mind is a powerful portrait of the dissociation that occurs when a person tries to justify the misbehavior of someone they love.

What results is a down-to-earth kind of horror movie, about the common feelings of despair fathers feel during those draining first few weeks.

While the message is pat, the way it’s presented is poignant, thanks to an arresting lead performance from Gong, who manages a tricky balance of chilliness and charm.

Jeffers and Hay have a strong chemistry, and they make Peter and Winona’s vivacity and pain feel equally real, even when the movie around them is shading toward the phony.

Most of what makes Brooklyn 45 so entertaining doesn’t cost a lot of money. It just takes talent, and diligence.

Nothing in the story really sticks, or stings. The ace cast makes the movie better. But they deserved a better movie.

Writer-director Cory Choy and co-writer Laura Allen don’t offer a lot of definitive answers about what’s really happening here; instead they use the premise as a foundation for a series of beautifully shot vignettes, following two troubled souls as they connect with nature and each other

Despite all the familiar faces, Simulant still feels too bare-bones. It asks some pretty remedial questions about freedom and humanity; and it is ultimately too tasteful and earnest to get pulses pounding and minds racing.

There are really two movies happening here: one, a cat-and-mouse game between two manipulative schemers; and another that skewers self-involved, “anything for a click” influencers. Both have their merits; but they don’t mesh well.

The idea behind this film is to celebrate James’ first and best teammates. In the real world, what they achieved as a basketball team was remarkable. But dramatized? On the screen? It’s stubbornly undramatic.

Concerned Citizen is light on plot but filled with insight into what people expect of themselves and their peers.

This quietly powerful film is a way for Harkness to reopen some of his family’s wounds, but always with the understanding that the more he pokes and digs, the longer it may take to heal.

For those willing to stretch a little to connect with Ferrara, Padre Pio is often as rewarding as it is challenging.

Barth’s story is enjoyably twisty, filled with surprises about all the mischief that Elsa’s neighbors have been up to during the war; and Thorwath’s direction is dynamic without going too far over the top.

The Wrath of Becky delivers satisfying action, as this underestimated heroine — well-played by Wilson — makes some terrible people look like absolute fools.

This is a different kind of prison escape picture, focusing on the stifling confines of a life devoid of possibility.

Though the movie falls a bit short in character and theme, Harder preserves the story’s shocks by having the players remain aloof and unknowable from moment to moment, which keeps the overall picture’s meaning vague.

There’s a lot about the whole sorority phenomenon that could never fit within the narrow rectangle of a cellphone app. So “Bama Rush” widens the frame.

While The Fire That Took Her offers a broader perspective on these kinds of cases, Gillespie always brings everything back to Malinowski and her family, who led full lives before one reckless moment of cruelty changed everything.

This riveting and righteously furious film is about two subjects: the worrying phenomenon of police departments discrediting and even arresting sexual assault victims; and the more promising trend of journalists doing their own research into cases that may have been closed too hastily.

Williams and Sudano don’t try to sell their audience on Summer as a musician, because the music itself still does that. This is more a portrait of a passionate artist who kept pushing herself and reinventing herself — sometimes at the expense of those who loved her, at home and on the radio.

More often, the weirdness and affectations seem gratuitous. Even for a movie meant to be offbeat, the rhythm is jarringly askew.

This is a beguiling film about two people so charming and disarming that no one suspected them of anything shady when they were alive — although now that they’re gone, the Alters’ many mysteries have the allure of great art.

While trying to make the original’s free-flowing, frequently surprising plot fit into a more conventional screenplay arc, Barris and Hall have sapped a lot of its vitality. The new version may be more current, but the old one rings more true.

Though a bit overlong and lacking a strong structure, this frequently fascinating documentary nevertheless shows how cultural ephemera can bring the past to life, in ways both instructional and inspirational.

There’s a bit of a bait-and-switch involved in Drucker’s approach; and on the whole, the film’s balance between the celebrities and the wannabes doesn’t do full justice to either. But there’s a strong point of view here, as Drucker scrutinizes an era that established a lot of the codes and aspirations of our own influencer-saturated times.

This is an in-depth film about a person many presumed had no depth at all. It’s a cautionary tale — not just for future sex symbols, for those who write about them.

In a clever use of metaphor, the filmmakers have built an appealing world of wonders, hidden below the moon’s barren surface — suggesting there are fragments of hope embedded within even the grimmest landscapes.

The Five Devils saves some of the juiciest revelations for its final act, which can make the comparatively coy first hour feel frustratingly oblique at times. But this alluring and sneakily emotional film is never confusing.

From scene to scene, Lopez and Caro do fill these broad outlines with real feeling, bringing a personal touch to old pulp archetypes.

Sheridan doesn’t ignore the ways O’Toole could be destructive, both to himself and to anyone who got close enough to love him.

What really grounds the documentary is Sibley’s footage of Harris’ sons, Jared, Jamie and Damien, sorting through their father’s effects and sharing their impressions of who he was.

Only one of these two pictures works on its merits, and it’s not “Part V.” But that’s as it should be. That’s true commitment to the bit.

It’s hard not to be impressed by Burleson’s command of how old exploitation movies look and sound.

This is a picture that could do with a little bit of scenery-chewing and a whole lot of sensationalism — anything that would make its middling mystery plot more exciting.

What makes this schemer so exciting to watch is that he’s like a lot of guys in their early 20s, regardless of the time and place. He’s an incorrigible hustler, just making moves to get him through the day.

Compared to other true-crime docs, “Beyond Human Nature” doesn’t blow the lid off a huge conspiracy or untangle a complicated mystery. But this is a fascinating story with something to say about how the legal system can’t always offer a definitive answer about what’s true.

The film’s dialectic qualities can feel a little forced and wooden, though Ritch mitigates this somewhat by directing his cast to deliver their lines at such a snappy clip that viewers don’t have time to dwell on the clunkers

This is an ideal role for Lenoir, who handles the punching and shooting parts of action movies well, but really excels at the brooding. His Adam is aptly named; he’s a biblical kind of hero, sinning and suffering.

The movie is entertaining and has a professional polish; but it’s also very safe. It feels like it was made more for the Darling children’s parents, not the Lost Boys.

Ultimately, this film celebrates living — including the part that includes taking big swings and making terrible mistakes.

The more fanciful qualities of Freaks vs. the Reich work fairly well. Mainetti has a gifted cast and a talented special effects department, so the scenes of these X-Men-like outcasts fighting fascism do look fantastic. But the film’s exhausting length is a challenge, as is Mainetti’s failure to use his historical setting meaningfully.

While the movie becomes a little repetitious in the middle, it ends strongly with a succession of unforgettable scenes of gruesome body horror. Clock leans too heavily on too-obvious visual metaphors, but it’s still a vivid and visceral explication of one woman’s fears.

The cat-and-mouse action is uninspired and slackly paced; and any pizazz that Wilson, Lundgren and Fehr bring gets lost once they stop talking and start shooting.

Ultimately, this film is less about her final decision than about how having these choices helps her figure out who she wants to be.

Though the movie’s leads are undeniably charming, director Steven K. Tsuchida and screenwriter Eirene Tran Donohue don’t give them much to do that hasn’t been done many times before. What does distinguish their film is its setting

Davina Pardo and Leah Wolchok’s touching documentary “Judy Blume Forever” is anchored by a comprehensive conversation with Blume, now in her 80s and as disarmingly frank and cheery as ever. She looks back at her life and career, and discusses how they intertwined in ways that inspired her best work.

Though “Seven Kings Must Die” suffers some from the gray palette, dim lighting and general somberness that weighs heavy on a lot of modern television, the movie delivers viscerally exciting fight scenes and a strong sense of what life was like in an ancient, unsettled world.

The fight sequences are so dynamic — and so frequent — that the 90-minute runtime flies by. This is the kind of movie that connoisseurs of over-the-top action like to seek out.

There are talented people up and down the One True Loves cast and crew list, so it really makes no sense that director Andy Fickman’s film is so off-key. Nearly every creative choice goes awry.

It’s an artful piece of work, with some memorable moments where these Texans pick at each other, playing on the weaknesses that are hard to hide in a small town. But the movie is also relentlessly sour, reducing nearly everyone in it (except Joan) to a few immediately observable and mostly unflattering traits.