Robert Daniels

At every turn, “The Annihilation of Fish” is wonderfully surprising.

Despite Quan’s best efforts, there isn’t one square foot of this tepid film worth buying.

The film bewitches you with its seemingly spontaneous humor, a cadre of original soulful folk tunes, and its adoration of the breathtaking surroundings.

Melodically vital and bracingly frank, Questlove’s uptempo Sundance documentary “Sly Lives! (aka The Burden of Black Genius)” is a sonic kick to the soul.

It’s difficult to fully contextualize how incredible Torres is here; she matches the film’s silent grief by keenly deploying her character’s internal angst into her slender frame. Through her formidable presence, the deliberate “I’m Still Here,” a film that locates further meaning in the face of Brazil’s present Far-Right wave, remains in the heart long after the picture fades.

Frédéric Jardin’s “Survive” doesn’t necessarily break the mold. But being original isn’t totally important for this schlocky French disaster flick.

Den of Thieves 2: Pantera isn’t groundbreaking, but it delivers what it promises: lovable scoundrels trading bullets and traversing borders.

Based on the real-life story of World War II resistance fighter Gunnar Sønsteby, Norwegian director John Andreas Andersen’s “Number 24” is a sturdy, handsomely mounted period piece depicting the emotional toll required for freedom.

Even at its most traumatic, Santosh gives viewers plenty to consider.

Barry Jenkins’ Mufasa is a strong, uncomplicated effort that should charm kids. The Moonlight directors involvement in a CGI-heavey Disney prequel caused serious film lovers to wring their hands, but the results speak for themselves: This is simply a lovely movie.

If the action in Kraven the Hunter was as well conceived as its villains, it’d be a riot. Unfortunately, the brawls are physically detached from the environment. The choreography lacks punch and design; the compositions are spatially unaware.

Unlike most other true-crime films, "The Order" isn't out to titillate or digress into exploitation. The film instead heeds to a strict hold on tone, mood and pacing that doesn't aim to manipulate the viewer but to slowly unravel them to the point of feeling as hollowed out as Husk. In the process, it furiously tears us apart

"Sujo" is a direct, unvarnished window into the near inescapable pressure of cyclical violence.

While [Lawless] only scratches the surface of Moth's traumatic past, "Never Look Away" still stands as a formidable anti-war project.

Peck’s film is a rich chronicling of Cole’s unique career, peerless artistry, political strength and moving end.

Stockholm Bloodbath is a half-promise. There's plenty of blood to be had, but not much of it boils.

Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat succeeds as an intense piece of reclamation and rejuvenation, giving breath to Lumumba’s spirit by sporting the same kind of defiance the political leader espoused.

Road Diary: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band isn’t looking to put a new spin on a familiar artist. It wants to rotate, spinning round and round from A-side to B-side to back again until the sense of mortality at the heart of this tour becomes as unshakeable as the music itself.

This film is simply a simulation of the genre beats you expect in a story about a man kidnapping a woman in the woods. The cloying setup also leaves much to be desired, as does the anti-climatic ending

Goodrich is the type of rewatchable adult-minded comedy that feels like a welcome sight.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight is the kind of bold swing with difficult material that does manage to earn your respect.

Neither the tacky ending nor the very existence of this second installment is earned. Instead, it languishes as the squeezing of the final drops of a once bright idea.

A clear masterpiece held together by visual splendor and idiosyncratic performances.

All Shall Be Well is a picture of cruel realities. It’s a deliberate, nimble drama, one about major slights, class imbalance, and rampant homophobia.

Deadwyler is the heart and soul of a film whose every inch is deeply felt.

With style, strong performances and emotive use of mis-en-scene, On Swift Horses is a flawed but intense critique of Americana.

Apart from a few quippy anecdotes, the only thing holding Elton John: Never Too Late together is the songs.

Mackenzie’s film works best when it believes in its audience. And it feels tantalisingly close to greatness when it allows the relationship between Ash and Sarah to simmer. The pacing is so unhurried, and the script has such deliberate mechanics that the film remains enthralling, despite an overbearing score.