Director Barry Sonnenfeld captures Hollywood in sunny tones, with fluid camera moves providing maximum comic effect.

What makes A Simple Plan an exciting, thoughtful thriller isn't the plot twists, but the twists and turns of Hank's tortured conscience as one lie leads to bigger and deadlier deceits.

Nothing short of fascinating.

Rohmer's trademark dialogue...is as poetic in its plainness as ever.

One of the most troubling views of the human race I've seen in years. Luckily for us, its depressing, almost pathologically ironic vision is redeemed by the sublimity of Solondz' filmmaking. I first saw the film at Cannes last May and it's haunted me, both for its nastiness and its brilliance, ever since.

No is anything but a somber political tract; it’s a little bit of a thriller, and more than a little bit of a comedy.

A true New York City movie, alive every minute. There’s some Woody Allen in its veins, but it’s driven more by the free-for-all spirit you find in pictures like Peter Sollett’s 2002 “Raising Victor Vargas” and Spike Lee’s 1986 “She’s Gotta Have It.”

All of it is vital and involving, and some of it is hilarious...I've rarely seen a group of people in a darkened theater react as viscerally as they do to Reservoir Dogs.

As willfully oblique as his first film was densely foreboding, a rumination on the perils and pleasures of interpersonal connection that would seem to refuse any easy connection with even the most curious of audiences.

Everything clicks here.

A knowing take on movies and maturity alike, The World’s End is just as thoroughly thoughtful as those which came before it, and maybe more than ever, you’ll find yourself laughing to keep from crying.

Lacks dramatic tension and fails to bring this great music alive. It does not sing.

It's blatantly manipulative pairing of an adorable young boy and a selfish, honesty-challenged older woman [is] so calculating that I could never get emotionally involved.

Westerners may find the religious aspects wearying and a little fantastic. The Color of Paradise is both parable and fable, a retelling of Isaac and Abraham.

There's an almost natty precision about this picture that's so rare these days in American movies that it provides satisfaction in itself.

A sweet, funny exercise in nostalgia, though it's also self-congratulatory and awfully calculating.

One of the best films of the year, a polished, contained piece of provocation.

While it has its scary moments, and while its central conceit is refreshingly imaginative, there's ultimately not much there there.

Overpraised, intellectually soft, narratively unfocused, and thematically ambivalent.

Like the giallo films it pays tribute to, Berberian Sound Studio is more of a sensory experience than a dramatic one.

Human Resources resonates because it restores the humanity to that dehumanizing title phrase.

It's a sweet and wise film - neither groundbreaking nor revolutionary save for the fact that it places narrative and character arc at the center of its concerns.

Assisted by passionless central performances and dull dialogue, Mungiu succeeds only in exhausting our patience, not in conveying a message.

An unassuming little film that packs a huge emotional and artistic punch.

A completely different order of cinematic existence than any other film you're likely to see in the near or distant future.

A multi-layered, experimental film, a film about storytelling, but the beauty of it is that it transcends the story at its center while still celebrating the virtues of a tale well-told.

(Cusack)'s genius, however, is in his continual ability to be the most likeable of everymen.

Gone Girl is a rare bird: a tricky, weird mystery that benefits from people knowing its twist from the outset.

More whimsical than gloomy, for all the horrors it alludes to or depicts.

It never quite elevates itself above something like a really well produced behind-the-scenes featurette on a high end Blu-ray. But if you’ve got that Jodorowsky T-shirt aping the Judas Priest logo, you may as well start lining up now.

Only Lovers Left Alive is an exhibit A example of how to use style to enhance substance, not overwhelm it.

Forman imbues the material with exactly the right dry, satirical flavor, yet this story is still a Frank Capra little-guy-against-the-system picture.

In a World… is pretty much a perfect movie, chock full of fun, endless laughter, realistic love and that all-important magical movie ingredient — originality.

Serkis’ Caesar gets more than his fair share of rip-snortin’ badass moments. He’s arguably the finest leader of men we’ve seen on screen since “Lincoln.”

It makes us realize, suddenly, and with immense regret, what the rest of contemporary cinema so sorely lacks.

A heartfelt documentary.

We marvel at the almost perfect realization of a character whom we're not necessarily meant to like.

Fill the Void is, in the worst sense of the word, a “women’s picture,” in which people wring their hands and worry, wail and weep over marriage and maintaining the status quo.

MTV, comic books and gangster flicks are all in Lola's cinematic family tree; it's a heady, breathless ride.

While there are some okay side stories (stuff with the daughters and daughters’ friends) it kinda feels like attending a dinner party and checking in on the first world problems of a friend you kinda like, but don’t like enough to ask any follow up questions.

Stick with the film, accept the rules of the time and the meditative rhythm of the language that Davies has woven into his story, and you won't be disappointed. Then read the novel. It's even better.

Much more mythic and risk-taking than the usual Hollywood product.

The Taste of Others takes regular (but not ordinary) people and knocks them out of their usual zones of activity. The resulting collisions leave behind a very pleasing flavor.

When Allen conceives of a character this great, it’s hard not to wish for him to slow down and maybe write that extra draft to refine his creation, but Blanchett – at once both repellant and eminently relatable – uses the casual tone to her advantage, the same way that monster movies use miniatures for scale.

I was so taken by the film's sublime visual poetry, its telling silences, its finely orchestrated editing rhythms.

It simultaneously wows you with the stark beauty of its images, a beauty that leads to another, related kind of truth that is equally crucial. It's not to be missed.

Works so beautifully because Davis doesn't try to turn Eads and his friends into walking soapboxes for transgendered people.

A feral and staggeringly well-conceived revenge saga.

Tight and quick-moving, the film scores its points and gets on with it.

This tiny friends-and-family production has the vibe of a project done on weekends and after school. That’s no knock. It is vibrant and bubbly and just clever enough to engage people who wouldn’t normally watch a black-and-white micro-budget Shakespeare adaptation without any big movie stars.

While hardly insightful as a character study, Tracks can’t help but flourish as an Aussie travelogue, with cinematographer Mandy Walker doing justice to these vast and harsh environments.

What leaves you breathless, though, is the knockout acting by the cast.

Morris seduces us into stepping into Leuchter's world of delusion and ego.

A terrific piece of neo-realistic filmmaking.

The bleakness of the material ought to make Ratcatcher a depressing experience, yet Ramsay's power as an image-crafter transforms this grim universe.

Subtle, strange, off-putting, fascinating.

Juri’s performance makes it impossible to divert your eyes from the screen, no matter how much you might want to, and a brave film that eventually succumbs to convention is still braver than most.

The most faithful cinematic depiction of adolescence in recent memory.

Irrespective of whether Pollock, as a movie, is any good -- and it is very, very good -- it's clear that Ed Harris was born to play the lead role.

It’s all about the performances. McConaughey and Leto don’t just give voice to the disenfranchised of the 1980s, but all people suddenly faced with impossible challenges.

Audiences willing to wade knee deep in the muck and mire of the human abyss are advised to seek out Humanité at the local arthouse.

A very pleasant experience in watching life unfold in its own direction and time.

At 76 minutes, Caesar Must Die is more of an art piece than a thick steak of a feature film, but it maintains a fascinating hum from start to finish.

The engine that drives Jerry Maguire is Cruise, giving the kind of performance that all but deconstructs his recent series of glib leading-man roles.

The film has much more talking than acting, so McDonagh is wise to give it all the zest he can muster... But McDonagh, for all his agility as a writer, stumbles in fleshing out the story.

Part of what’s so invigorating about A Touch of Sin is its refusal to betray the depth of its intellectual ambition, deferring when needed to generic convention and relishing the entertainment which follows.

Lets Jackie Chan have some fun, ride a horse and frolic in the American West. And when Jackie's having fun, at least some of it trickles down to us.

Philomena honors its namesake by valuing potent understatement over potential hysterics.

Its final scenes and sublimely framed last, lingering shot are extraordinary.

What's unfortunate is that Toothless is starring in a toothless story.

This kind of film, in its various manifestations recurring through the decades, gives us confidence that cinema can ultimately get to the heart of things.

A glimpse into how three different definitions of love can find themselves quietly at odds, the interactions between our three leads are always convincing if not always compelling.

It proves that the screen is the place where a memory can be reborn.

[A] blend of classic sci-fi fare and current pop-culture irony is what rockets “Guardians” into the stratosphere.

Lore is a rare, wonderful film that works not just as surface entertainment, but has deeper historical meaning, as well as an even grander, more universal statement.

Has the edge of black comedy that defines Maclean's sensibility, but it also has a mature new sweetness. And it's certainly one of the best films about the life of an addict since "Drugstore Cowboy."

Armitage, Cusack and his Evanston chums have their work cut out for them to turn a stone killer into a sympathetic romantic character. That they succeed in such a shrewdly funny way is downright amazing.

This long-distance love story is comfort food in any language, perfectly agreeable and unlikely to surprise.

One of the best films of the year. Queer in every sense of the word, it's poignant, laugh-out-loud funny and thoroughly provocative.

Someone should confiscate Mann's synthesizer. Just when a scene starts rolling along, this synth beat fades in and destroys the mood.

A truly entertaining and dizzyingly wild horror film.

Listen Up Philip is big, sprawling and tortured, if a little lacking in focus – while funny in parts, it isn’t really a comedy.

Teller manages a careful enough balance between painstaking technique and a larger cultural context over 80 brisk minutes to make even minor revelations feel like major moments.

With a jaunty musical score by Alexandre Desplat and a pleasant visual style aided by Marco Onorato’s colorful cinematography, Garrone delivers a story that’s part fairy tale, part religious allegory and part scathing indictment.

Snappy heist film that keeps changing the rules of a mystery so that one is never sure whose hands are at the controls.

That Nichols is able to orchestrate this entire journey with steady tension and lyrical imagery is a testament to his storytelling capabilities.

A fantastic, sleek and fun satire.

Steady-handed action is enough to elevate this film above its predecessor.

A delight to the eye, ear, and mind

A dark film that raises more questions than it answers -- and it's meant to.

The film doesn’t come into focus contextually until the closing moments, but as the bullets fly the rhythm is established right from the outset.

We’re given fairly straightforward talking-head accounts complemented with an increasing amount of archival material as the narrative progresses further towards the present, all coated in a VH1-suited slickness that belies the reported funk of the studio itself. Fortunately, that slickness is in service of tales from some substantial musicians.

What director Aviva Kempner has done is shine a light into the past and recover a classic American hero, one with all the integrity, decency and largeness of spirit that we have been taught makes up the American character.

A difficult, ambiguous film.

Writer/director David Mamet, who's built a career in both theater and film by being a hyper-manly sort of writer, has crafted a film that is laugh out loud funny and dinner-conversation smart.

The Punk Singer is a perfect storm. It is a love letter to Kathleen Hanna, to feminism, and to the fans, but it’s also just a damn good movie.

The Trip to Italy is plenty enjoyable for fans of the first one and these two, but by the end, it also has the consistency of reheated comfort food.

(Owen's) existential angst and the interesting layers of character and setting give Croupier a sharp, engaging edge.