Scintillating black comedy of manners from Yorgos Lanthimos, it latches its fangs in deep.

Not entirely without some laughable or dated scenes, Halloween remains an original that continues to inspire a genre and probe middle America's fears about what's really lurking in the laundry room after midnight.

I can think of no other movie that has dared to analyze grief and its aftermath with such naked honesty and precision.

Ghost World resists convenient closures and summaries and some may take issue with its open-endedness. But anything else would have been phony, and Enid would never have stood for it.

Field trips to a cheese aging facility, a winery (of course), and a cattle farmer, whose methods of grazing are plotted out with mathematical precision, highlight the care and passion that are instilled into each and every morsel dropped onto the plate with the tiniest of tweezers. Menus-Plaisirs is a fascinating exploration of that passion, and perhaps the closest many of us will get to experiencing it at all.

The film literalizes the damage done by the ruling class in ways that are shocking, but they land.

Although the characters and their backstories are carefully thought out, Delpy and Hawke deliver their dialogue as if spontaneous and unmeditated.

Italian filmmaker Alice Rohrwacher’s fourth narrative feature – a soft kiss of magical realism here, a Keystone Cops caper there – is dreamily disorienting.

Julie’s restlessness is anchored by a self-confidence that Reinsve conveys guilelessly and brilliantly.

A bitter, bloody masterpiece with adrenalized emotions and hyper-realized images, this is perhaps as close to battle as any sane human being should ever hope to tread.

The strange and challengingly charming awkwardness of Alana and Gary, as well as the more entertaining anecdotes, will get you past the somewhat lumpen structure.

Only Yesterday is a little-seen gem in the crown of Japanese animation powerhouse Studio Ghibli.

One of the best movies I've seen this year and, consequently, the less said about it here the better. The beauty of this movie is in the way it twists and turns, thwarting expectations, confounding stereotypes and venturing into places you least anticipate.

The plot isn’t sturdy enough to fill two hours. An honorable mention, but no best in show.

Unstoppable and righteous, it roars across the no-lane hardpan like the four-iron horseman of the kinetic apocalypse, amped up on bathtub crank and undiluted movie love. Oh, what a movie. What a lovely movie!

From its silent opening moments to its breathtaking double-cross conclusion, Le Samourai is the work of one of the film world's great directors working at his expressive peak.

Winter's Bone never hits a false note.

The Queen is palace intrigue at its finest.

Remarkably, the film is composed entirely of point-of-view shots. Although she’s in the room, Viviane is not even part of the image during the early minutes of the film.

Frankly, it feels strange that a movie with so much to say about loss wants to wallow in it when a chance at joy was right there.

Dingy atmosphere and great performances make this a standout.

A triumph in anguish.

Blue Is the Warmest Color has its wobbles, but Exarchopoulos will knock you sideways.

Remarkably fresh and exciting.

What sets Phantom Thread apart is that it isn’t an apologia, or an exorcism. It’s a Valentine. The heart, after all, is our strongest muscle.

It isn't about where you get, but how you get there -- and the getting there is a chewy delight.

McKim’s documentary is as jangly and urgent as its subject and his art, and it packs a melancholy wallop, using the artist’s own running commentary via cassette tape (there were two hundred hours of it) and layering it over snatches of Wojnarowicz’s Super 8 films, countless photographs, and recollections from those who were both there at the start of Wojnarowicz’s career and at the end of his life.

At heart, The Souvenir Part II is a film about filmmaking as art, industry, and identity.