On the Rocks is a funny film, warm for the most part except when it’s not — and needs not to be. Minor Murray, you might call it? And yes, you could say that he’s in effect just doing the kind of thing he always does, only more so. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

Potter’s sense of timing is terrific. She never lingers on one character too long. It’s the same with the movie — you’re in and out before you realize what hit you.

A documentary that delves into what happens when the ghost stories you told as kids, the stuff of urban legends, seem to come true.

Writer and director Ti West accesses all the hot buttons for fans of the genre in a manner that doesn't make fun of it (and its followers) in a "Scary Movie" way, but instead treats it with the appropriate amount of respect. (Key word: appropriate.)

With a story this sensitive, the main actors and Durkin must walk a thin line between showing the events and not exploiting the tragedies of a family. And through excellent performances, The Iron Claw succeeds, feeling genuine and heartbreaking.

This gently humorous, fiercely honest indie film is a step forward in the quest for a move inclusive Hollywood, which seems to one of the themes of the cultural moment. Some may dismiss it as identity politics. But movies like this prove that it’s about broadening our scope and deepening our understanding.

A satisfying story of yearning and, eventually, satisfaction.

Subtle it's not, but the film is effective both as a thriller and as a war film with something to say.

Directors Leo Scott and Ting Poo are armed with seemingly endless self-shot footage for Val, a moving, fascinating portrait of the actor. But disarming is a better word for how Kilmer, reputedly a “difficult” actor, comes off.

This is a difficult film, one that asks questions that can’t really be answered. There are a couple of surprises along the way, but more than anything Koreeda is getting at what really makes a family a family.

A feel-good romance, it’s not. A feel-bad one, more like. But Domont has loftier ideas in mind, and in Fair Play, she effectively gets them across.

A sequel, by definition, can’t be as innovative as the original. And there is no sure-fire crying scene here like — spoiler alert — the fate of Bing Bong in the first film. (I rewatched it again to make sure it still has the desired effect. It, ahem, does.)

The Fall Guy isn’t exactly Oscar bait. Which is fine. Instead, it’s the rare movie that succeeds on its own terms, doing exactly what it sets out to do, which is entertain its audience.

Creed III is definitely a people movie. And Jordan has trained his lens on the right subjects. He’s once again convincing as a man trying to fight his way through internal conflict, not just opponents in the ring.

Wicked isn’t the best movie you’ll see this year, but it’s almost certainly the most movie. … There’s not a frame wasted, not a second of down time. It’s a little like having dessert for dinner, as well as for the appetizer and dessert again, too. And it’s fun, a good time at the movies.

Happily, this is a movie about not just idealism but practical idealism, and the struggle that maintaining it requires. It looks drop-dead gorgeous and, despite a few storytelling short cuts, it's unexpectedly moving.

Laurence Anyways is like a big, ornate, overstuffed pillow of a movie. It’s attractive and comfortable, even if there’s just too much of it.

Hoffman was a genius, a tremendously gifted actor who could shine in almost any role... A Most Wanted Man may not be the best example of this, but it certainly adds to the evidence.

Spaceship Earth is an interesting look at the origins of one Arizona’s most interesting tourist attractions.

Surprisingly entertaining, probably because it uses Wall Street shenanigans and schadenfreude as the backdrop to a crime drama.

It's a gorgeously sterile film, fascinating to look at, sometimes painful to watch. The performances are outstanding; yet the actors, including Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman, are toned down almost comically, often giving robotic line readings to empty bromides.

As with all of the films he writes, Sheridan takes us to places that are foreign to many of us, yet immerses us so deeply into the sense of place that everything feels familiar, recognizable. It’s a trip worth taking, making “Wind River” another stop on the unique cinematic travelogue Sheridan is building.

Air isn’t a documentary, it's better — a brilliantly acted, fascinating true story.

It doesn’t just maintain the momentum built in the previous chapters but further ramps up the emotional stakes and physical complexity. It’s like gorging on candy for two hours, only you get to walk away from the theater without a stomachache.

If you like martial-arts films, it's well worth your while, a non-stop orgy of brilliantly choreographed fight scenes. Eventually it's all too much, a blur of fists, blades and snapped bones that run together. Still, it's a wild ride.

For all its vivid period atmosphere and striking scenes, there is a meandering quality that keeps the film from being truly involving. It's not the lack of sentiment, but perhaps the absence of any sort of momentum.

With Transpecos, Kwedar doesn’t offer any easy answers. Instead he points out the problems, how entrenched and intertwined they are, and asks other questions: How far will you go to survive? And will it be enough in the end?

The film soldiers on through a couple of possible endings, and if its real destination is never truly in doubt, Mbatha-Raw makes the trip interesting.