Say what you will about Cactus Jack, but the fact that it’s extraordinarily unsettling cannot be denied. If you find yourself relating to any second of its purposefully hateful narrative, you may want to immediately call your local psychiatrist.

Delivers on the action front, laughs, and some great visual splendor. The only real problem with this film is the running time.

At least the 20 people who saw it with me -- found it hysterically funny. On the other hand, they all seemed pretty stoned.

Randy Rhoads: Reflections of a Guitar Icon is a fun and fascinating film for people like me who love rock.

In Monuments, the comedy outweighs the drama, for better and worse. For better because Sullivan is an engaging comedic presence, at once gawky, twitterpated, and restless. For worse, because the ending does not have nearly as much emotional effect as it probably should.

Awfully funny, with surprisingly potent social commentary just underneath the quirkiness.

Perhaps Simmons is the man Apatow fears he will become. If so, with Sandler's help the filmmaker's fashioned a solid work of self reflection. There's plenty to love and laugh along with here.

Midwives partially plays like a feature film, especially in its second half, when it takes a more contemplative approach with emotional “slice of life sequences” and moves swiftly across years with touches of humour.

Kempff walks the fine line of being frustratingly vague and trusting the audience to grasp the film fully. Knocking, for the most part, lands in the latter category.

The performances in the film are soul-saving.

Breach is a look at the insecurities and flaws we all carry, it just happens to be embedded in the story of the worst traitor in FBI history.

Babenco’s cinematic farewell isn’t perfect by a long shot. But it’s brave and poetic when it comes to facing mortality and rediscovering life. It is also most eloquent in referring to cinema as one’s lifeline with a wistful view of humanity, of those friends who stick around and those who don’t.

The Wrestler could have been a groundbreaking drama, one that upturns the sensational genre roots from which it stems. With Rourke in such form, it could have been character-driven to the core – if only Aronofsky trusted his character enough to resist screenwriter Siegel's contrived plot thrusts.

I'm a sucker for so-called "mockumentaries." They're charming, usually outlandish, and you never have to worry if anyone is getting exploited. NBT is no exception.

Jockey is a solid piece of work that reflects on who we are and what we leave behind, as well as the prices we pay to get there.

While it is a glossy crowd pleaser, it still has a few typically off the wall, classic Miike touches.

It is exciting… enough and is carried by the fun cast and design work.

On the grand scare scale of Asian horror, with The Ring and The Grudge as its standard-bearers, Room 203 is on the lighter side of horror.

Cech is the heart of the film and coupled with her chemistry with Perlman, Marvelous and the Black Hole emerges as a sweet coming of age tale, worthy of experiencing, even if you feel like you’ve seen it all before.

August so firmly establishes characters of Martin and Barbara and their relationship, so when the disease does enter the picture, the film does not suddenly become about that; the focus clearly remains on the effect it takes on the people.

It does get a little sappy without a hint of darkness at all. By the end, every plotline is wrapped up nicely with a pretty bow.

The Cincinnati Kid is one of the definitions of what made Steve McQueen who he was. Through the roles he chose, he fit snugly in them, using his calm wits and all else of him to turn himself into the ultimately cool actor.

The finale of Emily the Criminal does not match the pulse-pounding scenes of her earlier assignments. However, it still manages to work toward a satisfying, logical conclusion while offering a solid critique of the gig economy many Americans face in which fortune is merely a credit card swipe away.

Amazingly realistic and engaging drama about society punctuated with both humor and grittiness.

We Are Living Things unravels gradually, methodically. It could’ve used a bit more tension and slightly higher stakes, for the silences in-between its words aren’t as weighty as the filmmakers seem to have intended. Yet it’s refreshing to see a love story rooted in reality, despite the sci-fi undertones.

Burgundy and Carell's Brick Tamland, by himself, would be worth the price of admission.

One of the most shocking Japanese horror films ever. It needs to be seen to be believed, but those with queasy stomachs would do well to stay away.

Once again, the Coens' tale of the damned is damn funny.