Warren Cantrell

A chronicle of a group of animals, sure, but Flow is really about the best aspects of humanity as seen through the lens of these creatures. How living things learn to trust, share, and protect the weakest among them represents the best ideas of life on this planet, and it is what Zilbalodis is interested in here.

Shocking without being exploitative, sad without veering off into depressing, and inspirational without a hint of the saccharine, David France’s documentary tells a difficult story well.

The result is difficult to watch yet impossible to turn away from, the legitimacy of its naked honesty seeping from every rough corner and crevice of the production.

Stylistically, Ascension borrows from the city-symphony genre at times, with long stretches passing without any dialogue as the camera whips past and through recycling depots, cell phone assembly lines, and poultry plants. There are no talking heads in the picture or any camera-facing reflections to guide the audience along a narrative, making it less cinéma vérité and more direct cinema in style. It is an effective approach.

Although Boys State provides its four leads some talking-head reflection moments, the documentary is largely verité and linear. This gives the project a decidedly honest and organic feeling, but yet it does slow it down at times, depriving it of momentum.

Gandbhir could have arranged all of this like a book report with a foregone conclusion, yet she trusts in the truth of this story and the intelligence of her audience to pull apart the necessary history and sociopolitical context of it all.

Somewhat ironically, like the social unrest that underpins much of the footage featured in Riotsville, U.S.A., the documentary is well-intentioned yet hampered by a lack of direction, clearly defined goals, and the support of a larger, established apparatus to lend it legitimacy.

And while it’s a difficult sit sometimes, “17 Blocks” is essential viewing for anyone interested in how the confluence of race and class have codified into a sort of informal caste for an entire subsection of America’s citizenry.

Content to tell just one story despite a far more interesting one just under the surface, Maing and Story’s honesty and remove from the filmmaking process has produced an unvarnished, raw document that offers up a slice of history: warts and all.

Bolstered by a damn fine turn by Dorff, who carries most of the film, there’s more to like than dislike with this one.

An immigration story that manages to draw in themes about manhood, familial identity, and cultural preservation, director Matias Mariani has crafted a picture that speaks to a broader transient experience that transcends both time and place.

Feels Good Man is an intriguing look behind an online curtain that rarely gets pulled back, and is investigated critically even more infrequently. Slick animation graphics and well-paced interview testimonials bolster the effort and paint a very clear (if regrettable) picture of how art can sometimes get away from the artist.

On the one hand, director Silje Evensmo Jacobsen should be commended for adhering to the verité sensibilities of the project, as “Wilderness” never comes across as curated or guided. Yet this does keep the doc from probing into the more interesting questions and considerations that sit just under the surface here, such as the fundamental “why” of all of this.

Cousins is insightful, thorough in his technical comparisons, and well-read in the library of cinema, yet never quite connects his work to a larger tapestry that extends the form.

Careful and deliberate character work in the script paints a striking picture of two friends who are outcasts in their little world yet still find a way to integrate into a community.

Bob Ross: Happy Accidents, Betrayal & Greed isn’t a takedown piece (at least not of Bob), but it isn’t precious about its eponymous subject, either, blending genuine admiration with a healthy dose of introspection that only deepens a viewer’s admiration of the painter.

For fans of Ashby, or even just lovers of good cinema, Hal serves as a wonderful examination of a masterful director who had a lasting influence on generations of cinephiles. Had Scott dug a bit deeper, though, she might have stumbled across something as profound as the filmmaker she supposes to glorify.

The brisk pacing of Fantasy Life is a credit to this editorial restraint, yet it also leads to one of the production’s few stumbles: its refusal to offer a satisfying, narratively cohesive ending. Even so, the film stands well on its own.

Bolstered by tone-perfect performances from all three of the leads, and a script that hides larger themes within the body of the narrative like vegetables in mashed potatoes, Wild Men hits with the force and precision of an arrow fired from Martin’s homemade bow. And while the tone of the film toys with the absurd, what it has to say about masculinity, regret, and what it means to belong is anything but.

With well-staged action, good character work, and believable progressions from the previous installment, The Quake is the sequel that fans of “The Wave” deserve.

An interesting if somewhat incomplete horror thriller with decent performances, “The Changeover” is nevertheless hampered by a script that doesn’t seem to know how to connect all its narrative dots.

Tense, scary, and full of heart, when Cummings has all the pieces moving together in the same direction the movie hums with an effortless rhythm that largely makes up for deficiencies baked into the third act.

An interesting, but ultimately light and frothy, Parisian rom-com that flies by at a breezy 73 minutes, A Faithful Man does alright for itself despite a few baked in flaws.

Compelling, yet lacking a broader perspective that would have elevated this from book report to a serious and groundbreaking new dialogue, “Diamond Hands” follows the lead of its most vocal subjects: in fast, out faster, and utterly out of its league in a scenario where it could make a difference.

While there is always value in highlighting the importance of empathy and good temperament in a leader, there’s nothing inherently vital or fresh about what’s seen in The Way I See It.

Low rent, CGI splatter effects by the bucket-full honor the Troma roots of this property, while practical costume, make-up, and production design speak to the reverence of the same. It ain’t pretty, sure: but that was never the Toxic Avenger’s style. Blair and company understand this, and the movie (world?) is better for it.

Elgort does great work juggling what is essentially a dual performance, while Oliver, making his feature directorial debut, here, keeps things clipping along at a taut, engaging pace. Small in scope, yet successful in just about every aspect of its unspooling, Jonathan stands tall.

A marriage of dramaturgy and remembrance, Seven Veils dances through its themes and character history with thoughtful intention that would impress Salome herself. Emotionally bracing and infused with a meta-text that leapfrogs the story and the characters themselves, it is almost good enough to lose one’s head over.