William Bibbiani

Call Me By Your Name is a romanticized coming of age film, for better and worse. It’s a lovely place to visit but not particularly absorbing as a narrative, even though Armie Hammer gives an impressive performance.

Saoirse Ronan gives a standout, brilliant performance and so does Laurie Metcalf as her long-suffering, big-hearted mother. It’s a remarkable solo directorial debut from Greta Gerwig.

With striking scares, moody atmosphere, and impressive performances, You Are Not My Mother gradually reveals itself to be a wicked, wicked work of horror, with perhaps only a few unanswered questions holding it back from true greatness.

Gorgeous and unpredictable, and maybe a little indulgent, Phantom Thread is another fascinating drama from Paul Thomas Anderson, with captivating lead performances by Daniel Day-Lewis and Vicky Krieps.

Shallow self-congratulation for American moxie at the expense of everyone and everything around us.

So let me be absolutely, 100% clear: “The Alto Knights” is indeed a bad movie, but not the good kind. It doesn’t make you feel alive, it makes you feel dead. It’s a tedious, directionless, bumbling chore of a gangster picture, incoherently written and edited, featuring two of the limpest performances of Robert De Niro’s career.

So emotionally, dramatically, philosophically complex that it’s tempting to put on professorial airs and focus entirely on its depth. But it is also, just as importantly, electrifying to watch.

The target demographic for Lorne is SNL fans who won’t benefit from a documentary like Lorne.

If logic had anything to do with it, that would mean 'Thrash' was a bad movie. But logic has no place in these soggy halls. 'Thrash' may be arbitrary but it’s too energetic to be bad.

Hereditary is one of the scariest movies around, and a spectacular showcase for actors Toni Collette and Alex Wolff. The film’s subtle shocks and realistic drama combine to create a dreamlike atmosphere, drenched in psychological horror, which builds and builds to a climax that you won’t forget anytime soon.

It’s incredibly thrilling to watch, impressively emotional throughout, and easily the best Spider-Man movie since “Spider-Man 2.”

Even the quietest moments of 'Flow' are tainted by existential threat. It’s suspenseful and pensive and painful in a way few films strive for, and fewer still achieve.

It’s a triumph of maximalist filmmaking, using in-your-face techniques to craft a gigantically intimate story. A wonder to behold, a shock to the senses, a thrill to one and all.

It reaches inside your imagination and stirs it around, making new connections between familiar concepts. It’s not just great, it’s fascinating and revelatory.

Steve Bognar and Julia Reichert have produced in “American Factory” an invaluable snapshot of a moment where history is repeating itself, and trying to write a new, possibly dystopian ending. But it’s also a film full of beautiful human beings, trying desperately to make good for themselves and their families regardless of their nationality and culture.

The drama is muddled, the action is murky, and the storyline can’t help but get goofier and goofier until, by the end, every attempt this movie makes to ground the “G.I. Joe” series gets blown up. It’s hardly the worst film the “G.I. Joe” series has delivered, but it’s certainly the least interesting.

I cried, dear reader. I cried so much. Not just because the story and characters were wonderful, but out of the joy of discovery.

All the inspirational, kitschy parts of your favorite nostalgic fare in a mature, sensitive motion picture with indie credibility. Sure, it’s cheap, but it wears its cheapness like a badge of honor. If this is the future of cinema, I say bring it on.

Mudbound is a daring approach to a classical narrative, a film that tries to look from multiple perspectives at an intimate human drama that has far-reaching ramifications. Its imperfections are debatable, and fairly minor. It is the work of a bold storyteller working at the top of her game.

Kinky as hell and also extremely romantic. That’s not a combo a lot of movies go for nowadays, let alone pull off this beautifully, and that makes Pillion something of a miracle.

Human weakness is 'Black Bag’s' greatest strength. It’s an insidiously great spy movie, mature and satisfying.

It’s an exciting picture, a smart picture, a fascinating picture, and a wonderfully weird picture.

It’s a sweaty, intoxicating, all-nighter of a movie, and its allure cannot be denied.

Fire of Love is a wholly satisfying, overwhelming documentary, as disarming as it is explosive.

This is a film about pain, and it forces the audience to live in and work through that pain. And it’s absolutely worth the effort. By the end it’s a transformative experience.

Widows is so severe and reserved a picture that it never quite works as a thriller, but it’s so mired in conventional thriller storytelling that it never completely works as a serious drama either. But there’s no denying the power of that cast and the particular vision of McQueen, who turns Widows into something truly distinctive… if not necessarily effective.

The Rescue is an enthralling documentary, with a real-life story so spectacular you can hardly believe it. That’s why the film’s overwhelming polish sometimes undermines the real-life story it’s trying to tell.

A mesmerizing study anchored by three incredible leads, each working at the height of their craft. The material is rife for exploration, rich with nuance and discoveries. And the ending packs a wallop.

Ryusuke Hamaguchi is an expert at crafting films that subtly enthrall our minds, and this is just more proof.

Curry Barker’s supernatural nightmare Obsession is a better version of Wonder Woman 1984.

One of Spike Lee’s best movies. With a dynamite cast, sharp script and pointed humor that underscores real-life, disturbing horrors, it’s an entertaining crime drama that amuses and shocks and invites the audience into a complex and impassioned conversation about the power of racism - and the moving image - to influence our lives.

It’s got great heroes, a memorable villain, and more whimsy than is probably recommended by medical science. Which is to say, just the right amount of whimsy.

Steven Spielberg tells an intimate story through extravagant storytelling, giving audiences an intensely relevant historical drama, and giving Meryl Streep one of her most nuanced roles in years.

What a delightful discovery this movie is, and what an incredible collection of impeccable performances. Ahn’s film finds the drama in the intentionally quiet life of introverts and lulls his audience into peaceful, wise, contented security.

The film’s empathy for the unwanted, its frustration at the system, and its uncompromising depiction of people trying to do the right thing when fate clearly has other plans, registers with real power.

If there is one disappointing element of this moving, amusing, sad and memorable film it’s that it isn’t five hours long.

Kaphar brings something special, narratively raw, but thematically refined to his first feature.

One of Wes Anderson’s best movies, an imaginative and amusing travelogue through incredible settings, populated by wonderful characters, with a lot of heart and even a little insight. You can feel the love radiating off of this movie, like a hug from your own beloved pet.

I’ve spent over two paragraphs now talking about the various movie trivia Cleaner reminded me of, since Cleaner doesn’t provide much other food for thought.

What [Cregger]'s getting at seems a lot less frightening, and a lot more contrived, than it would have had he not invited us to ponder more powerful possibilities for over an hour before tipping his hand.

It’s a film about hubris, selfishness, failed bureaucracies, and a stubborn inability to learn from past mistakes.

The film has a stirring emotional honesty, and an impressive intelligence about its subject matter. It’s a film that may one day be required viewing for adolescents, and it might just change them the way that these events change its protagonist.

If you can get swept up in a big old-fashioned war picture, Devotion has some of the goods. It’s an incredibly handsome production, and the central performance by Jonathan Majors, as real-life aviator Jesse L. Brown, is layered and impressive.

Gianolli’s grand adaptation isn’t just a wicked send-up and a sensual period piece; it’s a poignant reminder that everyone who thinks they’ve cleverly sussed out the wickedness of mass media is hundreds of years behind the rest of the history class. Like the best stories told about earlier times, “Lost Illusions” feels remarkably contemporary.

Nia DaCosta’s smart, freaky sequel zooms in on the ongoing battle between sense and senselessness until it finds strong, connective tissue between science and religion.

It’s hard to imagine a film with less strength of conviction than The Flash, a time travel movie about why it’s bad to retcon the past, but which exists entirely to convince the audience that retconning the past, present and (potentially) the future of the DC superhero franchise is a super cool thing to do.

Like many of Emmerich’s movies, even the better ones, Midway loses sight of the humanity inside its vast vistas of devastation. It’s a giant film with a very small impact.

Liu points his lens at life and life does the work, guided by a masterful screenplay and tender performances.

Making Waves: The Art of Cinematic Sound is a practically perfect primer for anyone interested in the history and craft of filmmaking, answering most of the pertinent, baseline questions while leaving plenty of room for supplemental research.

Life is too damn hard to get so damn mad about a sweet, mostly effective drama like Song Sung Blue.

The director translates the overwhelming concept of genocide into intimate, daily struggles, and the horror is indisputable, and inescapable; if you ever thought such a historical horror was “unthinkable,” you’ll think again.

The Naked Gun is back and it's as naked as ever. And also as gun.

Few filmmakers are as playfully cynical as the Coens, and in The Ballad of Buster Scruggs they haven’t just made a funny, sentimental, exciting and blistering western, they’ve also unlocked their entire filmography for anyone who may have missed the connections before. And there’s no going back now. It’s the Coen Bros.’ world, and good luck to anyone who lives there.

I’d say if The Plague wasn’t nominated for Best Original Score there’s something terribly wrong with the Oscars, but The Plague didn’t even make the short list, so there’s just something terribly wrong with the Oscars.

It’s a deeply personal documentary, candidly reflective and disinterested in flattery. It brings titans down to Earth.

It’s a snack of a movie, not so much a full meal, and that’s OK. There’s a lot of energy in this film; more than enough to get you through your afternoon.

It’s a kind and thoughtful drama that respects its characters and has faith in them, letting them live and breathe and find the meaning in their own lives.

Whenever the filmmaker’s emphasis is on the sinful humanity of these men of God, reducing them to Machiavellian backstabbers, it’s a satisfying and absorbing yarn. When it tries to say something profound — while refusing to acknowledge the many elephants who populate the Vatican’s many rooms — it makes cardinal errors.

This film marks the emergence of a potentially great dramatic filmmaker, and that makes sense. After all, this is a great film.

If you knew Yechiun, or even if you just knew his films, it’s a sad and sweet catalog of his brief, inspirational life. If you didn’t know him, you’ll eventually feel like you did, and you’ll cry the kindest tears by the end, as you realize just how much he meant to the people who were in his orbit all along.

An incredibly direct motion picture, and sometimes the limitations of its budget put a strain on the ambitious multi-decade narrative, but it’s a film — and a cast — that demands thunderous applause anyway.

A glorified pitch reel, submitting for our approval a few nifty movie ideas and wrapping it all up in a tidy bow. All action, no filler.

Despite one wonky misstep, it captures some real magic.

Everything’s Going to Be Great understands the hopeless can-do spirit of not quite getting there but coming close enough that you’ll never, ever give up.

It’s filtering Vera Drew’s autobiographical story through the lens of contemporary popular culture, transforming her own life into myth while transforming corporatized IP into punk rock anarchy.

The Sisters Brothers is almost as aimless as its title characters, but it's worth the journey. John C. Reilly and Joaquin Phoenix shine as wild west hitmen who are just smart enough to know they should be smarter, whose quest leads them in unexpected, funny, and surprisingly emotional directions.

For a debut documentary filmmaker the former 'Xena: Warrior Princess' star makes tough choices and makes them boldly, and her film is more complicated and engrossing for it.

This Count Orlock is a gruesome monstrosity, gnawed on and gnarled, as repulsive as movie monsters get. But he is now also that sexual creature, a hypermasculine 1970s porn star, as virile as he is virulent.

What’s clear is that as a stylist, Perkins is at the top of his game. Maybe even the top of anyone’s game. As a storyteller, he’s either a bold innovator or just slapping dream logic onto old-fashioned pulp.

It’s a film that engages with the dour without becoming bitter, and a film that allows for redemption but only through the hardest possible work. It’s a film that’s built on a lie but sees only the underlying truth. What an astounding religious drama, and what a beautifully realistic morality play.

Inu-Oh may get messy with its plotting, but that never dulls its impact. It’s a siren scream of a musical: angry and beautiful, rapturously animated and highly infectious.

Gracey may film Better Man through a thick veneer of showbiz glitz but — thanks in large part to the fact that, again, the star is a CGI chimpanzee — the film’s heaviest scenes sneak up on you and pack a wallop.

I, Tonya is a fairly conventional biopic of the scandalized sports star, but one buoyed by Margot Robbie's performance.

Watching Grace and Rocky talking science, doing science and exploring the parallels between their cultures evokes the very best parts of Star Trek.

The film can’t decide if it wants to be truly bizarre, which is when it’s funniest, or simple and sweet, when it’s the most dramatically effective. These aren’t the worst problems for a movie to have.

The filmmakers haven’t redefined the zombie genre, but they’ve refocused their own culturally significant riff into a lush, fascinating epic that has way more to say about being human than it does about (re-)killing the dead.

Gerald’s Game is a set of tightly wound gears that cranks out dread. Carla Gugino and Bruce Greenwood are as superb as they have ever been.

The Disaster Artist is a hilarious and heart-wrenching ode to outsider art, with a baffling story that would be impossible to believe if it weren’t apparently true. James Franco directs the film with sensitivity and painstaking detail, and gives a fantastic performance as one of the worst filmmakers - and one of the most unusual human beings - ever.

An audacious film that completely obliterates the expectations of the musical biopic genre.

It’s an undeniably informative and vital documentary, which clearly illustrates a disturbing political farce that has been allowed to thrive for far too long. Which is to say, at all. Where Citizen K falls short is its depiction of Khodorkovsky, whose early indiscretions are breezed over as quickly as possible in order to get to his redemption.

A film like Rebel Ridge reminds us that you can lose yourself in exciting, engaging, stimulating entertainment while still keeping your brain completely on.

It’s just shameless promotion for a book about relationship advice, released on a streaming service that also sells happens to sell the book. It even features lines like, 'This story hit so hard I Amazoned a copy of ‘Relationship Goals’ right away.

Benson and Moorhead direct and shoot their film smartly, but their performances are what ground it and give it shape. It’s Benson’s moping alienation and Moorhead’s desperate need to believe in something — no matter how nonsensical, even if he knows he’s making it up himself — that resonate.

Road to Revenge is everything you could want from a rough-and-tumble, tough-as-nails action movie. 'Sisu' was even more of it, but only by a matter of degrees.

Schnabel creates a natural, immersive motion picture that conveys the experience of being, living with, and painting like Vincent Van Gogh.

The first half is a drowsy day at the office, full of complex paperwork minutiae that, too much of the time, doesn’t even pan out by the end of the movie. The second half is more horrifying to think about but less scrupulously presented and, as such, harder to believe.

Pearl isn’t just great; it retroactively makes its predecessor great, too. It’s a handsome and sad horror drama, with scenes and shots and performances that will make you wonder if you’re supposed to laugh, cry or shriek. Until you realize that the best part of this film is that you are absolutely supposed to do all three. And you probably will.

Its baseline competence is perfectly watchable. It’s just hard to imagine anyone signing onto this project with the explicitly stated goal of only making it watchable.

Ruben Brandt, Collector is a wonderful heist film, a thrilling action-adventure, a gorgeous visual feast, and an intriguing look at an artist whose greatest talent is recognizing the value of the art inside others.

My Dead Friend Zoe' is a noble film, seemingly honest and open. It’s not a terribly exciting one, and it struggles to justify its modest length, but plot isn’t everything.

Stan & Ollie muddles up the history a bit, as all biopics do, but it’s a film without any meaningful flaws. Every character is wonderfully realized, every performance is spectacular. You’ll laugh all the way through, you’ll cry by the end, and you’ll see the brilliance of Laurel & Hardy come back to life via the very same cinematic magic that made them legends in the first place.

Fifty Shades Freed concludes the trilogy as it began, with a romance you can’t believe in, endless montages of affluence, lousy dialogue, weak plotting, and - admittedly - a heck of a lot of sex.

A sadistic delight, just like its predecessor.

Gary Oldman gives an impeccable performance as Winston Churchill in a gorgeously photographed, suspenseful World War II film that suffers from too much hero worship.

The Rhythm Section takes well-worn genre material and removes all the substance and ingenuity, leaving behind only an undeveloped plot, a blank main character, and a sense of gravitas that is entirely unearned.

Bring Her Back, like many great horror movies, hardly needs to dip into the supernatural to shred our nerve-endings.

The Equalizer 3 is a remarkably stylish entry in the series, elevating a barebones story with Washington’s gravitas and Richardson’s uncanny cinematography. All things being equal(ized), it’s a relatively satisfying thriller.

There’s a confidence to She Rides Shotgun that many other movies can’t match, as though the filmmakers always knew exactly where to put their camera and how long to let it roll.