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.

Chomet's defiantly two-dimensional artwork is warm, inviting, beautiful, establishing immediately a comfort level, at least for audiences of, ahem, a certain age.

Neville, who won an Oscar for "20 Feet from Stardom," could have gone a different route, maybe try to dig up some dirt. But there really doesn't seem to be any. I don't know if it's Rogers' influence, but I like this film just the way it is.

The hidden magic in De Palma is Baumbach and Paltrow’s editing. The pacing is just right, and the stories flow, one from another. Sit back, relax, watch, listen and learn. It’s a good time at the movies.

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.

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.

It’s fascinating and funny while forcing us to consider the line between technology and art.

It's great when a movie messes with your head. And Ex Machina, screenwriter Alex Garland's directorial debut, does just that, pretty much from start to finish. The writer of "28 Days Later" and "Sunshine" purports to examine A.I., or artificial intelligence. What he's really after is something at once more exotic and more relatable — and infinitely less predictable: human nature.

It's Gerwig’s movie, Gerwig’s take on childhood and the patriarchy and feminism and love and death — boy, death — all wrapped in a package that continually surprises. So yeah, it’s not what you think it is. It’s better.

James Ponsoldt’s film, and its stars, Miles Teller and Shailene Woodley, continually take us in unexpected directions, giving the film an unexpected depth. It feels real, its emotions earned.

As a love letter to a talented and endearing soul, it's hard to fault Love, Gilda. Like its subject, it feels remarkably honest and genuine.

In Praise of Love has virtually no plot, no characters and is not about love, and there is precious little praise in it. It's an essay in film, and it's not always consistent in that: You'll never quite know what he's trying to say. But the film remains great because of the way he says it. Memorable images and dialogue worm their way into your psyche and won't let go. [18 Oct 2002, p.8P]

Passing is Rebecca Hall’s first feature film as a writer and director. You’d never know it. With her meticulous eye for detail, her beautiful framing of shots (in stunning black-and-white) and the wondrously moving performances she gets from her actors —to say nothing of her handling of the material (she wrote the script) — you’d think Hall had been at this for a while.

It doesn’t always make sense. But it is fascinating — and fun — to watch.

It's Douglas' movie - and you've got a fine movie.

The Cabin in the Woods is a fantastic poke in the eye of our horror-movie expectations.

It’s a brilliant performance, Boseman coaxing so many emotions and feelings out of a deceptively complex character. His expressive eyes tell a lot of the story for him.

127 Hours is based on Ralston's memoir, and it's a really good movie because director Danny Boyle is a genius.

This isn't a movie for everyone, but for fans of quirky charm leavened occasionally by uncomfortable, realistic exchanges, it's a small delight.

The movie’s best moments are the small ones.

The way Park composes each frame is masterful. Sometimes the set-ups are intended to throw you off the scent of what’s happening, but wow, who cares when a film looks like this?

Each of the spectacular ascensions and drops in power throughout the 18th century-set The Favourite is filled with spectacle, betrayal and plenty of humor.

It is a beautiful excavation, fueled by tremendous performances from frequent Almodóvar collaborator Penélope Cruz and relative feature-film newcomer Milena Smit.

It’s the kind of movie that, if you give yourself to it, you’ll love.

The movie is as gorgeous as it is disturbing, and that’s a powerful combination. It may be about the beginning of the end of the world or the beginning of something else entirely. I’d be lying if I said I understand every aspect of the film, but I was engrossed trying to.

It doesn’t have to be a great movie. It’s a great experience, like a beautiful summer day.

Please Give is an almost perfectly rendered slice of life, buoyant with wonderful performances.

Sinners is a fascinating movie, overflowing with creativity and bold ideas.