Mostly it's brilliant, challenging, deliberate, scary as all get out. It's as much a portrait of a dysfunctional family as it is a horror movie. But don't let that relax you. It's definitely a horror movie.

Any fan of acting — any fan of movies — will be thrilled.

On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is not the first film about family secrets coming to light through grief, but it may be the most original.

It breathes youthful life into a tired franchise and makes the smartest transition yet of characters from the comics to the big screen with clever animation and thoughtful storytelling.

Greed, the lust for power and the willingness to do anything to obtain it are all on a lot of people’s minds just now. Washington offers a glimpse into that dangerous combination, one that resonates as strongly as ever.

Particle Fever does an excellent job of laying out what's at stake as it documents the creation and fine-tuning of the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland.

Life Itself is a joy for people who love movies or who love anything with an unwavering passion.

The Shape of Water is a fantasy, a myth, a fairy tale, all that.

If Greene had simply told the story in more straightforward documentary fashion, Bisbee ’17 would be an interesting film. By telling the story within the story, he’s done something more: He’s made an urgent, powerful one.

On some level Moneyball is about loyalty: loyalty to an idea, loyalty to a partnership forged by desperation, loyalty to the values you believe in. Whether that was Lewis' intention in the book, or Beane's intention in taking the risk, doesn't matter. It's the formula Miller came up with for the film, and with the team of Pitt and Hill, it's a winning one.

The easiest way to describe My Golden Days is as a coming-of-age romance, but Arnaud Desplechin’s film, with its memories and carefully nursed grudges and moments of heartbreak and betrayal, feels weightier than that.

Ostlund's film is beautiful, capturing both the stunning scenery and the danger of the slopes and the mountains. Sure, everything looks great, but it could all fall apart in disastrous fashion at any moment.

While Diane is perhaps 96 of the most depressing minutes on film this year, its quiet honesty is compelling. treating aging and death with a respect to the inevitability of both.

Rodriguez and Taylor are terrific. Their confidence is infectious, yet they never let us forget the challenges their lives offer.

Watching the film, emotions range from sadness, of course, to frustration to outright anger.

Room is a terrific movie, one that has two outstanding performances, confident direction and a story line that is both harrowing and moving.

Nebraska is as cold and unforgiving as its setting, yet just as stunning.

The movie is emotional without feeling manipulative. It’s progressive without feeling heavy handed. It’s dazzling without feeling like it was made completely on a computer, despite literally being made on a computer! Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is exhilarating, touching, creative and a shoo-in for Best Animated Feature at the Academy Awards again this year.

Krisha is a unique film, honest and searing.

The Babadook is a terrific horror film.

The most remarkable thing about Ira Sachs’ richly textured new film Little Men is how it manages to be about so much, and yet so little.

Mark Ruffalo, in just the right amount of stubble, grease and leather, plays Paul, about as cool an instant dad as a SoCal kid named Laser could hope for.

Of its many brilliant aspects, the film does illuminate the numbing grind of real life when you’re trying to make art.

The whole film is an exercise in trust and the lack thereof. In the end, it’s a kind of horror film, really, a reminder that these sorts of things were endured by so many for so long, with hope an unlikely ally.

Schoenbrun’s direction is masterful, both in terms of what they get out of the actors (Smith and Lundy-Paine give committed performances) and in their visual language. The look of the film is both haunting and inviting — not unlike that of a nightmare, or a horror film. “I Saw the TV Glow” has elements of both, and more.

Moore captivates as a woman who is either emotionally stunted and unaware or viciously in control of the whole chess board. Director Todd Haynes never cracks to let you know just which one she is. It’s possibly purposeful, but a lack of conclusion left me unsatisfied at the end of an otherwise deliciously disquieting movie.

It’s a Fellini-esque carnival of humanity on display, a more debauched phantasmagoria reminiscent of “La Dolce Vita.” But “La Dolce Vita” created the paparazzi; The Great Beauty takes place in a world where the paparazzi have existed for decades.

Vartolomei’s performance is amazing. The way her face registers everything she endures, from grim determination to frustration to mental and physical agony, seems genuine, authentic.