It's a gauzy indulgence in nostalgia that sweetly captures a very specific time and place, which should broadly speak to Linklater's contemporaries who somehow survived childhood before our society adopted most of the pesky rules designed to ensure that they do.

Forty-five years after “Mad Max” introduced many to a young Aussie named Mel Gibson, Miller certainly hasn’t lost his touch as a visual stylist and mad maestro of elaborate action. In almost every other respect, this feels like one of those instances where there’s more sound than “Fury.”

The movie still works, if somewhat marginally, in portraying the culture that allowed such behavior to fester, the mix of fear and going along, coupled with a fleeting compliment and the burning desire to get ahead.

At its core, though, is a solid caper movie rooted in the challenges associated with running any criminal enterprise -- a more modest version of "Goodfellas," with less blood, and more skin.

The dramatic height difference between the leads accomplishes a great deal of work in “Priscilla,” visually conveying the power disparity between superstar Elvis Presley and Priscilla Beaulieu, who he began wooing when she was just 14. Unfortunately, writer-director Sofia Coppola’s version of this oft-told story moves at a snail’s pace, offering fine performances but little to set one’s soul – or anything else – on fire.

The One and Only Dick Gregory highlights Gregory's particular knack for getting people to laugh with him, and more significantly, the sacrifices he made in pursuit of greater objectives than the roar of a crowd and that nightly paycheck.

STILL: A Michael J. Fox Movie is a remarkable accomplishment, making brilliant use of film clips to seamlessly illustrate and augment reenactments and the actor’s narration of his story, having spent more than 30 years living with Parkinson’s disease. Nostalgic without becoming overly sentimental, it’s an ode to Fox’s life, career and the struggle he continues to endure.

At the end of Sr., a documentary so personal the word “intimate” almost doesn’t do it justice, Robert Downey Jr. ponders what his 90-minute ode to his father was really all about. The simple answer, stripped of celebrity, is the painful process of saying goodbye to an aging, increasingly infirm parent, filtered through the careers of these two entertainers.

Top Gun: Maverick soars higher than it has any right to, constructing a mostly terrific sequel 36 years later (including a Covid release delay), using a good movie, not a great one, as its jumping-off point. That might not be enough to take your breath away, but as brawny summer entertainment goes, it comes shockingly close.

Taking place almost entirely inside a hotel room, it’s a movie bathed in poignance and sweetness as well as sex and longing.

A more-is-less epic that showcases the dazzling stunt work for which the franchise is known while piling on the action to near-exhausting extremes.

Even with the interlocking nature of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Endgame feels like a triumph of narrative engineering -- weaving in enough callbacks to earlier movies to delight even the nerdiest patrons.

“The Great Lillian Hall” operates as a love letter to the theater while catering to those who can appreciate an “All About Eve” reference or two.

The key is that Mendes (whose eclectic resume includes "American Beauty" and two Bond films, "Skyfall" and "Spectre") doesn't sacrifice the movie's heart in the service of its logistical considerations.

The Bee Gees were adored, hated and as seen through Marshall's lens, somewhat forgotten. Yet after watching this documentary, even if you didn't have an especially deep love for the band in their heyday, you might find yourself humming those tunes all over again.

Like everything else she's done, Rita Moreno is an exceptional storyteller, turning Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go For It -- an "American Masters" documentary hitting theaters first -- into a dazzling look at the much-adorned star's career, and the doors left shut, despite her success, by being a Latina in Hollywood during the days of the studio system.

Getting the delicate balance of the story mostly right, “Till” captures how Mamie Till Mobley turned the inconsolable grief over the murder of her son, Emmett, into resolve and activism. Anchored by Danielle Deadwyler’s towering performance, it’s a wrenching portrayal of reluctant heroism under the most horrific of parental circumstances.

If “Get Out” refreshed the genre in part by weaving in themes that invited a thoughtful conversation about race and racism, Nope is more modest in its intentions in a way that makes it more enjoyable the less you dwell on the details, ultimately feeling quirky without fully paying off its more intriguing ideas.

Watching Cooper and Mulligan portray their characters across decades, it’s hard not to be impressed, while nurturing a greater appreciation for why Cooper found Bernstein’s contributions and complications deserving of such a tribute.

Sara Bareilles headlines this adaptation for which she wrote the lilting songs, in a show that manages to be alternately sweet and silly, touching and raunchy.

It’s more a layup than a slam dunk qualitatively, rattling around a bit before finally paying off.

Part valentine to the theater, part unconventional love story, Spring Awakening: Those You’ve Known celebrates the show and its original cast, while also providing a broader look at the issues of teen rebellion and alienation that turned the musical into a sensation.

The final act isn't quite equal to the build-up, but by then, The White Tiger has already pretty well sunk its teeth into you, making the investment in understanding Balram's fate feel like two hours well spent.

The Trial of the Chicago 7 feels timely in an at-times jolting way, with images of chaos in the streets and angry crowds chanting "The whole world is watching." At its core, though, writer-director Aaron Sorkin takes the "trial" part to heart, leading to a largely courtroom-bound affair that -- while entertaining and splendidly cast -- at its best echoes his early triumph with "A Few Good Men."

A central takeaway is not only about the man but the warm nostalgia that he represents -- the memories, as Miranda and others recall, of grandmothers hushing them during the minutes he came on each day, running through the Zodiac with horoscopes filled with a persistent sense of hope.

It's possible to admire the performance and still come away feeling director Pablo Larrain's fictionalized movie doesn't significantly add to a story many of us already know in exhaustive detail.

No Sudden Move fares better with the quirky, unpredictable nature of the characters, the impeccable period touches -- from the overall look to the music -- and disarmingly witty bits of dialogue.

Without breaking the two down shot for shot, Coppola's editing feels as if it accentuates ties to the earlier films. Yet there's only so much that can be done by rearranging pieces, and it's not the sort of significant makeover associated with celebrated "director's cuts," a la "Blade Runner" or "Brazil."