Stephen Farber

Director David Weissman brings a rewardingly fresh and personal perspective to the subject.

Hawke’s film is very well crafted, tightly edited and elegantly photographed. The acute musical selections only add to our appreciation of Seymour’s selfless devotion to his art.

McCarthy’s performance, which is paired with an equally rewarding turn by British actor Richard E. Grant, anchors this bizarre, compelling true story.

The two central performances could hardly be better.

The filmmakers never underline the emotions they want to evoke, and yet by the end, audiences may be moved to tears by this tale of fractured lives that find just the right measure of repair.

All of the key creative personnel contribute to the movie's nail-biting tension and unexpectedly moving finale. Jon Harris's editing is matchless, and Rahman's score effectively heightens the emotion. Ultimately, however, it is the talents of Boyle and Franco that sock this movie home.

Pray does not browbeat viewers into applauding the artist’s achievement. The filmmaker thoughtfully documents a phenomenon and allows the arguments to continue to rage after the lights come on.

It is an engaging and often touching comic drama that builds power as it moves toward its immensely satisfying conclusion.

Beyond the film’s technical expertise and the political issues that it raises, it works best simply as a tribute to a group of talented and courageous women who missed out on opportunities that might have benefited us all.

Sacks’ personal life was as startling as his professional achievements.

The fascinating human portrait that emerges should draw appreciative if limited audiences.

This doc is always thoughtful and tightly edited, and it has an emotional impact that not many docs can equal.

Bolstered by a career-best performance from Mickey Rourke and outstanding work by Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood.

The actors do what they can to supply the texture missing from the script. Vaughn and Wilson riff together with pleasing professionalism.

Although the film runs more than two hours, the story is so compelling and the production so beautifully controlled that we are gripped by the characters' quest right up to the shocking end of the story.

Nichol has created a loving valentine to all the iconoclasts who resist what the rest of the world defines as progress.

Although the film might have benefited from a deeper investigation of the background to the conflict between Russia and Ukraine, the vivid scenes of protest in the capital city of Kiev supply undeniable power.

There is no question that it is an extremely well-crafted piece of work.

The picture is far from great, but it's a serviceable B-movie with some A-list talent on a slumming expedition.

Intelligently written, vividly shot, tightly edited, sharply acted, the film represents a rare example of craftsmanship working to produce a deeply moving piece of history.

Berger does a fine job controlling all of these performances, and he also creates a rich atmosphere for the production.

South Mountain transcends the limitations of some nakedly personal films to offer an affecting vision of frayed family ties.

Perhaps inevitably, the film moves toward a deeply poignant conclusion, but there are enough rambunctious and slightly zonked-out moments to provide a vivid, full-blooded portrait.

A rich reminiscence of a gifted actor who died far too young.

Throughout the film Moss traverses an astonishing range of emotions, from bliss to complete mental disintegration. She is fascinating to watch even when the film turns into a frustrating head-scratcher.

Given the craziness of the concept, it is surprising that several of the scenes work as well as they do.

Dorfman declares that she was never a media or critics’ darling. “I was at the bottom of the list,” she says when talking about her position in the ranks of modern photography. This film will convince you that she definitely deserves a higher position in the pantheon.

A rare look into the mind of an assassin, Incitement provokes and disturbs.

Changing the Game is beautifully crafted, with strong visual evocations of the different locales that these young athletes inhabit. The editing is also sharp, so that we rarely feel we are spending too much time with one set of characters.

This fascinating documentary about famed photographer Bill Cunningham features interviews with Vogue editor Anna Wintour, author Tom Wolfe and New York Times publisher Arthur Sulzberger Jr.

It's a pleasure to surrender to the movie's lush visuals, which are accompanied by wonderful jazz classics performed by Valdes, Estrella Morente, and Freddy Cole (Nat King Cole's brother), among many others.

It could use some sharper editing, but it’s an engaging portrait of a flamboyant character.

The first-rate cast cannot be faulted. Chandor has assembled an extraordinary ensemble.

It is far from a perfect film, but it tantalizes, thanks to the strong subject matter and the sharp characterizations and performances.

Vallee’s latest offering is alternately harrowing and heartbreaking, but laced with saving bursts of humor.

It might be sacrilege to suggest that Herzog could use a more strong-willed collaborator, but this film sometimes turns into a rather misshapen cinematic essay. Nevertheless, you won’t be sorry to witness the apocalyptic images of nature blazing and roaring.

Perhaps the best way to appreciate the picture, its few intellectual pretensions notwithstanding, is as a classy horror film with a particularly nasty edge. It's not exactly entertainment, but it casts a poisonous spell.

Anchored by two outstanding performances from Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, the film is a triumph of writing as well as unostentatious filmmaking.

Ferguson certainly has some strong, even encouraging points to make. And he has brought impressive filmmaking skills to his cinematic essay. Still, one wishes that he had presented his thesis with a little more energy and a little less didacticism.

This is no more than a minor piece of social history, but it wins us over with humor and a pointed touch of melancholy.

Mapplethorpe comes across as remarkably candid and unassuming, though his ambition was always clear.

Branagh’s most personal film is imperfect, but the emotion that it builds in the final section, as the family plays out a wrenching universal drama of emigration, is searing.

The film works as a moving anti-war essay and as a gripping thriller.

Beyond its message, however, and despite some unfortunate omissions in the history it recounts, the film succeeds as one of the most gripping and suspenseful docs of recent years.

Perhaps there are a couple of unnecessary complications on the way to the denouement, but the storytelling is lively and piquant, demonstrating the director’s sense of humor and sharp observational skills.

The interviews in the film are perhaps a bit more limited than they might be, with the directors relying on the same people repeatedly. ... [But] the film will help to introduce worldwide audiences to his stirring story.

Morris clearly invested so much time and energy in McKinney's story because he saw her as emblematic of our crazed times. Others might wonder whether the sad saga deserves quite this much attention, but there's no denying the film's morbid fascination.

While the film is too convoluted to stir boxoffice excitement, it offers some rewards for sophisticated moviegoers

As a piece of filmmaking, Chasing Chasing Amy is effectively put together.

We expect these stories to intersect, but instead they are completely self-contained narratives that rarely reach a potent dramatic conclusion. More irritating is Ostlund's shooting style, which consists of very long takes from an unmoving camera, often from the backs of the heads of important characters.

Although the subject matter is inherently disturbing, it’s hard to imagine any audience remaining unmoved by this mournful tale.

Everybody may lack depth, but it often compensates with raucous humor.

The film turns out to be highly effective, thanks to the skills of the actors and director Zaza Urushadze.

The film honors the hard-working, often unacknowledged craftsmen in the film industry and stirs provocative questions about the fine line between legitimate devotion to an artist and dangerous hero worship.

Although the movie acknowledges the economic threats to many Americans, it succeeds best not as a social drama but as a rich character piece, emblazoned by Allen, who relishes her rare leading role.

Despite many script problems, Levine has kept the film tightly coiled and engrossing throughout.

Jim ultimately raises more questions than it can answer, so it cannot be considered a completely satisfying documentary. Nevertheless, it builds undeniable emotional force as it reaches its somber conclusion.

What is admirable about Ivory Game is that it recognizes the complexity of the issues.

Screenwriter Adam Chanzit and director Gabriel Cowan don’t have the same flair for eloquent dialogue or vivid character creation. Instead they offer a lot of turgid exchanges filled with regret and recrimination.

Vreeland’s willingness to include painful as well as flattering details is what gives Love, Cecil its punch.

Herzog’s film may not be the final word on Gorbachev, but it is affectionate and candid and leaves audiences in a melancholy mood about the sometimes short-lived nature of reform.

What the film doesn’t have is the visceral impact that would take it from a well-intentioned treatise to a searing work of art.

The narration is overused, but at least Fey makes an engaging hostess.

Two excellent performances bolster a thoughtful script, and the result is that the discomfort we feel seems perfectly controlled by the filmmakers. The movie is candid and disturbing but never exploitative.

The film would not have the same impact without the commanding lead performance. Thanks to Ramos’s affecting work, Fistful of Dirt sticks in the memory.

Nothing would work quite as well without the performance by Pugh. She commands the screen from her very first appearance, and we never have doubts that anyone who tries to interfere with her will be facing a formidable adversary.

The film probes the experience of grief in a subjective, intuitive manner, and it achieves remarkable intensity in exploring this theme.

Prisoners can at times be a hard film to watch, but thanks to all the talent involved, it’s even harder to shake off.

The film fails to provide many practical solutions to the problems it identifies. Still, it’s an effective piece of agitprop suffused with sadness over the decline of a rich part of the American heritage.

The main virtue of the film lies in the thoughtful interviews given by the Israeli and Palestinian negotiators, both the accompanying voiceover commentaries and their later on-camera appearances.

One wonders if A Brave Heart might have been more effective as a short film than as a feature. The characters and the story compel our attention, but the film runs out of steam before the end.

There isn’t a tremendous amount of new information in this generally well-crafted documentary. But it makes a potent, urgent case against the merchants of doubt who play games with the planet’s future.

Although there is nothing groundbreaking about the story told in Standing Up, a series of small grace notes help to freshen this dissection of lost souls searching for second chances.

Expertly acted, impeccably photographed, intelligently written, even intermittently touching, the film is also too parched and ponderous to connect with a large audience.

Despite the predictable touches in the script by Mark O’Halloran, director Paddy Breathnach reveals a sensitive touch with the material.

This is a slight film, but the jolts do stay with you, and the two stars offer a humanity that many horror movies lack.

It deserves praise not as a polemic but as a richly humanistic, emotionally searing drama that sticks in the memory.

While the concept may sound schematic, it is brought to vivid life by wonderful characterizations.

In short, this film leaves us moved and provoked — and impressed with its technical accomplishments — even if it isn’t a perfect distillation of our ongoing national nightmare.

As a nightmarish suspense drama about everyday life disintegrating, Esmail’s movie is sometimes effective, even while it echoes earlier films like The Road and David Koepp’s underrated 1996 thriller, The Trigger Effect.

The basic story has been told many times before, but it’s intriguingly retold by screenwriter Philip Gelatt and director Sebastian Cordero in this low-budget, bare-bones rendering of a familiar theme.

Beyond celebrating the music, 40 Years in the Making: The Magic Music Movie has something to say about the compromises and reconciliations that are a part of aging, and it turns out to make for a stirring and healing reunion.

A couple of scenes toward the end do generate the suspense that the whole movie needed. But the impact is too muted, and an air of tired familiarity ultimately curdles the entire enterprise.

Dori Berinstein's tender but sharp portrait finds a lot of depths in the woman whom many see as a camp figure.

This intense, painful movie lingers in the memory.

The greatest documentaries cut deeper and more unflinchingly. But if The Way I See It sometimes skims along the surface, the potent images of a truly gifted president in action offer a welcome journey back to a more hopeful era.

No one doubts that the country faces major challenges in the next four years, but there is one safe bet: The future is unlikely to be affected by this simplistic documentary.

The important point is that the charm and poignancy of the original text survive. And Wright’s technical achievements are worth saluting.

Judy is three-quarters of a good movie that would have been even better if it trusted the urgency of the last act of Garland’s life — and the brilliance of Zellweger’s performance.

Engrossing, quietly revelatory, and often profoundly moving as it retells a story we only thought we knew.

Beyond its visual splendors, however, the film achieves searing moral power.

There is no simple answer to the questions this film poses, but it makes us think about the complexities of an issue that has been muddied by tough-on-crime politicians.

The picture doesn’t fully succeed, but it showcases strong performances.

This material would never have attracted a major studio, so Christy Walton — heir to the Wal-Mart fortune — financed the picture herself, not because of any desire to become a movie mogul but simply because of her passion for the novel. She allowed the filmmakers to work without major stars or obvious commercial hooks added to the story. Although the film doesn’t always sustain dramatic impact, its fidelity to the spirit of the novel is impressive.

Although the film recounts an intriguing slice of social history, it is too haphazard and repetitive to be truly memorable.

Skillfully edited and energetically paced, Smiling Through provides a memorable time capsule for those who miss the smart magazines that will never return.

There is no denying the emotional force that this film develops, and for that, we can credit talented filmmakers and two stars working at the height of their powers.

The film never quite clarifies its own attitude toward Hart. It simply doesn’t spend enough time with him to allow the audience to decide whether he was a truly transformative politician undone by tabloid reporters or just another slick operator. This robs the film of a tragic dimension that it might have achieved.