Ross Bonaime

Lucy and Desi isn’t breaking the mold in terms of biographical documentaries, but when put together in this package, the story of Ball and Arnaz has an impressive weight beyond just a collection of compelling anecdotes.

Gillan gets a great opportunity to show her comedic skills, and Stearns remains a solid purveyor of dark comedy, but Dual’s gloom eventually overtakes the absurdity to a depressing degree.

Pomerantz’s screenplay is deceptively complex, yet it’s pulled off effortlessly. Pomerantz is presenting ideas of self-discovery, lifelong friendships, confusion and uncertainty in who a person is, and handling all this in a remarkably entertaining and endearing story.

Meet Me in the Bathroom is a tremendous document of one of the most integral musical periods of our time, when the kids asked "is this it?" and responded by changing the world.

Emily the Criminal is an excellent example of how to make an effective thriller on a smaller scale.

With only two films, Raiff has proven himself to be one of the most exciting filmmakers today, telling stories that are emotionally honest and lived in, without any pretensions and with an unabashed tenderness.

Jackass Forever is ingenious, disgusting, and one of the most hysterical films you’ll see this year, while also managing to be a wonderfully touching celebration of these jackasses and their history together.

Moonfall, unfortunately, becomes a mixture of Emmerich’s usual clichés that are starting to show their age, a script that only occasionally embraces the insanity of this idea (even though the third act goes all-in on getting mind-numbingly stupid), and a scope that doesn’t do this story justice.

Death on the Nile might have been a long time coming, but it’s one of the most alluring mysteries in years, and a great example of how Branagh can elevate iconic stories with grace and care.

With a great lead performance by Kravitz, a plot that—like the KIMI device itself—is persistently upgrading and shifting, and a shockingly optimistic story despite the fear of the technological world, KIMI is a shining example that Soderbergh is one of the best directors working today.

I Want You Back largely relies on the overwhelming charm of its tremendous cast, and in particular, the magnificent dynamic between Slate and Day, but that’s all I Want You Back really needs.

The Sky Is Everywhere takes a lot of swings that miss, but the heart of the film is in the right place, and when it really works, The Sky Is Everywhere knocks these emotions and ideas out of the park.

After a decade away, Jeunet has returned to embrace all of his worst eccentricities to create an absurd mess.

There are few filmmakers that can make the leap from smaller, insular stories into large-scale epics, but with The Northman, Eggers has proved that his style and substance can remain intact, regardless of the size of the story.

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent—even when it doesn’t entirely work—shows the dedication and greatness of Cage, the impressive breadth of his career, and proves that Cage is, indeed, back. Not that he went anywhere.

It’s truly impressive that Fowler has found a way to integrate the wild world and characters of the Sonic the Hedgehog games into the real world in a way that actually works, but it’s a shame that it comes at the expense of the story of friendship that made the first Sonic the Hedgehog film so charming.

Metal Lords ends just when it feels like it’s finding its footing, with its characters taking too much time to address their flaws, leaving the music and the bonds that have been formed via the music, on the back burner for too long.

Not all of Arnold’s usual tricks work effectively in Cow, but for a first documentary, Cow is an engrossing and surprisingly emotional look at the farming industry through the eyes of a single bovine.

I Love You Dad has its heart in the right place with its cringey narrative and story of how much forgiveness those who love us truly deserve.

While the free-flowing structure of Spin Me Round works in bits and pieces, there’s very little overall purpose to the narrative Baena and Brie have crafted here.

This Much I Know to Be True might not dig as deep into the lives of Cave and Ellis as one might hope for a film billed as a documentary, but the performances captured here more than make up for that.

West has made an extraordinary tale of the personal universes we all inhabit, the strange messiness of life, and the beauty of how everything all shakes out in the end.

Until the Wheels Fall Off could’ve maybe explored Hawk’s personal life with a bit more focus, but Jones still creates a captivating, edge-of-your-seat documentary that manages to make the idea of landing a trick a genuinely moving scenario.

Plemons, Collins, and Segel elevate this basic story beyond more than just a generic noir homage, but it’ll likely leave the audience like Nobody: willing to accept less when they should be asking for more.

In the end, The Cow ends up a collection of tonal blunders and performances that are too big for this smaller-scale thriller.

By cutting back and simply sticking to the thrills and the madness of this situation and little else, Bay has made one of his best films in decades.

The Bubble feels like the least personal film Apatow has directed so far, a film that seems like more of an excuse to just do something during the pandemic, instead of Apatow having something to say.

Apollo 10½ can at times feel like the greatest hits of Linklater and what made him who he is, but that’s a welcome change, and a reminder of his strengths as a filmmaker.

Daniels explores the hopelessness of depression, the little miracles that truly make life worthwhile, how acts of kindness can be an extraordinary asset, and—most fitting to this film—how it’s OK to be a mess.

Beyond some decent performances that aren’t done justice by this script, and some fairly wild leaps into horror, Forbidden Fruits isn’t ripe, it’s just rotten.

Theater of Thought could've easily become a straightforward documentary about the evolution of thought and the fascinating science behind our brains, yet in the hands of Herzog, this topic becomes far more entertaining, as he approaches the topic with a wide-eyed wonder that lets this subject go down smooth.

Like so many of Frears’ films, The Lost King works because of the compelling cast on hand.