For fans, Oasis: Supersonic is a reminder of both the band’s musical strengths and of a simpler time for pop music in general, pre-internet and all that that implies.

Cast aside any preconceived expectations you might have regarding this documentary and remember simply this: Winnebago Man is one of the best films you're going to see all year.

A neon-drenched murder mystery – or is it? – for the selfie generation, set in the hipster hamlet of Silverlake. So it goes with this highly stylized slice of bad, black millennial noir, a post-mumblecore take on the shady underbelly of L.A. in which Los Angeles plays itself, very nearly upstaging the main characters’ plight.

Sometimes it works, but more often than not, it's just cute. In the editing, the characters, general style and attitude, Crowe seems to have drawn heavily from Slacker for inspiration, but in his insecure reliance on traditional narrative and Hollywood convention, he undermines his more interesting experimentations. As a result, Singles winds up being a date movie with pretensions.

The problematic issue of “keeping up with the Joneses” has rarely played as delicately or as honestly as it does here.

A surprisingly uneven and perhaps even mediocre character drama.

Although Nicholas Nickleby occasionally evidences a simplicity that resembles a Junior Scholastic production, the movie's enthusiasm is contagious.

Even though the storyline of Real Women Have Curves is a somewhat familiar tale, the film's originality lies in the way in which it's told.

It becomes unmistakably clear that Wuornos’ wretched childhood and young life is representative of a deep failure within American society to adequately protect our young and defenseless. This becomes part of the movie’s argument against capital punishment.

You get the sense that this elegant, tough-guy jazz caper is a movie Clint Eastwood might have been proud to make.

Abundant arthouse crowd appeal.

As depressing as it may sound on paper, directors Argott and Fenton have crafted a deeply disturbing but equally moving documentary.

Perhaps this approach makes A Quiet Place II the cinematic answer to downloadable content, a standalone adventure that offers new levels but no new narrative.

Be forewarned: Anthropocene is often an overwhelming experience. The human accountability on display can be tough to swallow.

In contrast to its great title, Mad Hot Ballroom is anything but: Let’s just say I was not spellbound.

And yet that is what is so very remarkable about the film: In a slim 72 minutes, it heart-tethers us to these teenagers, paying tribute to their unique and private selves while allowing the audience to see its own reflection in them.

Refn’s artful and energetic film never goes further than face value.

It’s not a grand landscape but a small portrait of wistfulness and wanting in the West, fluttering and touching.

It's a knockout, sucker punch of a performance, and although it doesn't completely erase the memory of Rapace (and why should it?), Mara's doomy gaze cuts through the hype and bores straight into your soul.

The Spanish Prisoner seems an almost purely theoretical exercise, with Mamet as the con man whose sole goal is to make us believe anything he wants.

The ninth film in the franchise, Predator: Badlands flips the whole Predator equation on its severed head from moment one by, for the first time, really concentrating on the Yautja rather than on humans.

That's the joy and frustration of The Booksellers. The overall experience is like wandering through an antiquarian book store, picking up a volume, starting to flip through in a leisurely fashion, and then having your arm jostled, losing your place, and picking up another tome.

These dragons are rendered so expressively, and they have become so dear. We may not deserve them, but that doesn’t stop the heart from wanting.

Actor-screenwriter Favreau and director Liman demonstrate with Swingers that they're definitely "money."

In the mold of their previous films "Ice Age" and "Robots": a nice blend of rudimentary and inventive touches.

Witty, wry, spry, and deliciously and effortlessly romantic, this is Austen as she is supposed to be.

Thankfully, The Nomi Song should go a long way toward re-cementing this striking creature's legendary status.

Damage brings to mind Last Tango in Paris, although Malle's elegant, precise direction is drastically different from Bertolucci's work, a film that celebrates the loss of inhibition and control. Although relentlessly somber, Damage offers a perverse humor in the idea of father-and-son rivalry over the same woman: it's like the Oedipus complex in reverse.