Sherilyn Connelly

Even by anime standards, Lu Over the Wall is best enjoyed by disconnecting your logic circuits and just enjoying the pretty colors and sounds.

It has some interesting visuals, but A Silent Voice demands investment in the redemption of someone who’s impossible to root for.

Roberto Sneider's You're Killing Me Susana (Me estás matando Susana) is a culture-clash comedy in which the clash happens both onscreen and off.

Only Yesterday it ain't, and you probably already know whether One Piece Film: Gold will make you ecstatic or not.

Though Pollak's direction in his first narrative feature is solid, The Late Bloomer is mostly an excuse for predictable sex jokes and ample toplessness.

In the end, Right Now, Wrong Then is a two-piece puzzle that's less than the sum of its parts.

Fabienne Berthaud's Sky is a road movie that never quite makes the right turns.

Mamoru Hosoda's The Boy and the Beast works with many common anime tropes but doesn't find anything new to say about them.

There are some scary moments among the slapstick, and the picture surprisingly doesn't pull its punches during its Harry and the Hendersons–style denouement, but Monster Hunt is hindered by its overlong running time and often mawkish sentimentality.

Craig William Macneill's The Boy tries so hard to be ominous that it nearly strains itself in the process.

In Stereo is not without its merits, but it doesn't really get going until the last ten minutes, which play like the opening of a movie that would be much more interesting than the one that preceded them.

The tepid Jackie & Ryan's only real strength is its supporting cast.

As is to be expected from Green in his pensive mode, there are lovely images in Manglehorn... But Manglehorn is also the latest entry into the tiresome Sad Man Learning to Love Again genre.

The way the two story lines come together, involving paintball guns and morphsuits, is more mundane and less spooky than the tone up to that point suggests, but the point of Sunset Edge isn't really the surface narrative.

Christopher Denham's Preservation is a violent yet agreeably goofy throwback to the survival-in-the-woods genre.

As compelling as an individual thread or scene might be, the picture as a whole lacks forward momentum, as is often the case with films with asynchronous timelines.

This occasionally charming November-December romance has elements of a Douglas Sirk woman's weepie... but the movie eventually goes into Woody Allen territory in the best way possible.

While it has its moments, Miguel Arteta's comedy relies too much on gender-shaming and emasculation jokes.

Frank Gladstone's animated kids' movie The Hero of Color City is a perfectly pleasant pastiche of other movies, the most obvious antecedent being the Toy Story films.

The story is serviceable enough.

The final revelation of the big secret that haunts the family -- hinted at throughout the movie -- is more than a little maudlin, and the dedication feels like nothing so much as ass covering. Until then, After is a frequently absorbing miserablist family drama shot in appropriately chilly winter tones.

Bad Johnson is probably the most thoughtful movie possible about a penis that takes human form.

The whole never becomes greater than the sum of its parts.

It may be a low bar, but Michael Tiddes's A Haunted House 2 is actually an improvement over its predecessor.

The soapy material is at odds with the largely distant catastrophe, which often feels too abstract to be a real threat.

It's occasionally imaginative, and, most importantly, never boring.

While it doesn't quite encompass everything, the film's still a bit too busy for its own good.

Tiger & Bunny: The Rising indulges in homosexual stereotypes that would have been regressive in the 1980s, let alone in a spin-off of a 2011 television series, and it's a damn shame.