Sheila O'Malley

Only 90 minutes long, the film feels intimate and yet at the same time vast. It has a relaxed pace, but an intensity of focus.

The Shape of Water doesn't cohere into the fairy tale promised by the dreamy opening. It makes its points with a jackhammer, wielding symbols in blaring neon.

Anyone who has ever circulated, even peripherally, in any comedy club scene, will recognize all of it. It's a quick-flash study of both frenzied activity and crushing ennui.

Also similar to "Carrie," it works best when it stays specific, grounded in this one woman's singular experience.

There are conflicts in Princess Cyd, but they're on a low boil. One of the pluses of Cone's approach — if you're open to it — is you are sometimes confronted with your own preconceived notions about people.

A nuanced and sensitive exploration of the many ways rape affects a person's life.

Where Maya Dardel really works is when it sticks to being a character study.

Some interesting things start to happen in Thy Father's Chair as the cleaners make headway, room by room.

Even though other characters appear from time to time, Barracuda is a two-hander, with one extraordinary scene after another (the script was written by Cortlund).

The film doesn't feel or look like a documentary. It's a character-based piece, but the structure is carefully considered with a clear narrative thrust and an unusual style.

Super Dark Times has a deeply unnerving mood, more unnerving than "what happens."

It doesn't know what it wants to be, or what story it wants to tell.

Rat Film is an odd and captivating experience, and its fluid style is its most distinguishing characteristic.

It is that very lack of objectivity that makes Strong Island the experience that it is. It is a very tough film to shake.

It is a celebration of these two eccentric and devoted teachers (and, by extension, teachers everywhere). We see them at work, we see them at rest, we see them kneeling by an open window smoking, wondering what they would ever do with themselves if they weren't doing this?

The script tries to do way too much, but the film also moved me quite deeply a couple of times, mostly in the scenes between father and son.

The most important thing Polina does—and it is testament, again, to the involvement of Preljocaj, a man who has devoted his life to dance—is that it shows that the everyday life of an artist is not made up of catharsis and accomplishment, triumphs and breakthroughs. Those moments only come after years of hard work, of failing and trying again.

Hittman's devotion to the male bodies onscreen is obsessive. Most good filmmakers, and most good artists, are obsessives. It goes with the territory. Hittman's obsession creates a potent blend of eroticism, pent-up feelings and good old-fashioned appreciation of beauty.

There's a flatness in the end-result. The quirky is utterly predictable.

The film is very smart, most of all because it resists the urge to devolve into a sentimental redemption narrative. This is a daring comedy with a very sharp bite.

Watching the film is almost like feeling the muscles in your eyes shift, as you look up from reading a book to stare out at the ocean.

In 1966, film critic Pauline Kael reviewed "Funny Girl," announcing: "Barbra Streisand arrives on the screen, in 'Funny Girl', when the movies are in desperate need of her." She could have been talking about Jessica Williams.

Laudenbach's style is haunting. Some of his artwork stops you in your tracks.

One of the things that Tamarkin does very well is present the historical context for the present political reality.

To the Bone isn't all that interested in the actual treatment of the condition, even though the majority of the film takes place in a treatment program. The film also gets hugely distracted by a romantic sub-plot, a sub-plot that is pushy and awkward from the jump.

Austin Found features a great ensemble cast, but never manages to explore unique territory.

A riotous medieval-era sex romp played with lunatic conviction by a great cast.

Gorgeously shot by Philippe Le Sourd (in his first collaboration with Coppola), The Beguiled lingers on its images, allows us time to settle into them.