As a brisk, sobering reminder of — if you’re inclined to think this way — where it all went wrong with image over meaningful policy in politics, The Reagan Show may feel like the doc of the moment.

Cloak and Dagger is fun for adults as well as older kids, thanks to the imaginative writing (by Tom Holland) and direction (by Richard Franklin).

It focuses on how the best intentions toward humanity are not enough if an ability to actually get along with fellow human beings is not part of the mix.

Funny as it is for a great deal of its length, Hot Shots! does, however, have its share of dull spots, and watching it inevitably makes one yearn for the good old days of "Airplane!"

In lieu of a literal fulfillment of the title’s promise, Dunn gives us a spiritual one, an aggressively poetic elegy to the pre-industrialized agrarian work/life ethic Berry made his most deeply felt cause.

A perfectly adequate action thriller that neither disappoints nor exhilarates. If it doesn't exactly crackle with energy, it lets off a good buzz now and again, and, depending on your mood, it may seem churlish to ask for more than that. [5 June 1992, p.F1]

It's a sweet, klutzy charmer, with moments of wit, insight and, yes, beauty, some of which it seems to stumble upon by accident.

Misfortune recycles such familiar genre tropes as ill-gotten gains, double-crosses, ruthless gunplay and last-chance locales, but serves them up in a taut, twisty and involving way.

While its insights into the consequences of selective memory loss continue to resonate the world over, at its heart, Amnesia is a beautifully acted depiction of confronting regret.

Writer Neil Tolkin and director Greg Beeman, both in their theatrical feature debuts, and Haim whisk you back to that awful period in your teens when you're finishing up driver education and applying for your first license. They make you remember the shame of having to have your mother chauffeur you, dropping you off a block away from wherever you're going so nobody will know your terrible secret. [06 July 1988, p.4]

There is no denying the craft of either Martin or Candy, however, and since they are the film, it will undoubtedly find its audience faster than any one of us can get from New York to Chicago.

The film is not without its problems, but its focus on the power of a mother-daughter bond and what can befall creative people when they no longer create generates considerable emotion by the close.

As doomed as Noredin’s actions often seem, they’re tinged with enough simmering humanity to keep us caring.

An engaging documentary.

Two Evil Eyes could give youngsters nightmares and is absolutely not for the squeamish--special effects maestro Tom Savini supplies the grisliness--but Romero and Argento fans are not likely to be disappointed by these tales of the supernatural.

The Vault is a combination heist and horror picture; and it’s the rare genre mash-up where each element’s equally strong.

Beyond explanation is the art itself. Animating Van Gogh’s bold impasto, already kinetic on the canvas, could have been merely superfluous. As moving pictures, though, the brushstrokes have an unexpected pull in this uneven but deeply felt homage.

Gudegast's twisty, turny tale of heists and homies is an action-packed romp with a good sense of humor and self-awareness. It's rendered with a startling attention to detail, but one has to wonder if with that detail, he can't quite see the forest for the trees.

The journey of J.D. Salinger from young wiseacre to world-celebrated author and notorious recluse is absorbingly traced in Danny Strong’s Rebel in the Rye.

Unleashed, written and directed by Finn Taylor, works because of the collective commitment to the magical realism on-screen.

Kagan employs a purposeful, if at times distracting, use of split screen, along with subjective camera and mind’s-eye visuals to capture the story’s visceral and emotional tension. But it’s the fine acting and the film’s plea for sensible gun control that carry the day.

Some of the gags are side-splitters, some just sit on the screen. But the film would have to be a great deal worse to prevent Naked Gun die-hards from lining up. [18 Mar 1994, p.F6]

What makes "Bombshell" intriguing is not just Lamarr's gift for invention, it's also what a fiery individualist she was, someone who had no regrets about her eventful life ("You learn from everything"), not even its racy, tabloid elements.

Although the movie...could use some second-half tightening and a bit more objectivity (Georgia-Pacific and Koch Industries did not comment in the film), it remains a vital, eye-opening portrait.

At times it is a bit unfocused, following a loosely chronological but otherwise haphazard structure. Yet it’s still a treat to spend time in the company of a true artist, never before illuminated with such clarity.

There’s not much in the way of bruising insight into the makeup of a deteriorating personality, but for a compact spin through well-trod fields of lustful, sad-mad blindness, “Thirst Street” has its share of disreputably perverse pleasures.

It may have been a long road to glory, but seeing Perkins (then 97) and Smith (75) enthusiastically accept a 2011 Grammy for their album “Joined at the Hip,” it’s readily apparent that it was worth the trip.

The morbid tone of the original has given way to horror comedy set off by quite spectacular and imaginative fantasy sequences. Dream Warriors is no less grisly, but at least you can laugh at it.

Not to go all Pauline Kael on you, but Bullitt -- the 1968 crime drama starring a Ford Mustang GT390 and some guy named Steve McQueen -- is a fairly tedious bit of Aquarian cinema: the chicka-chicka-waah soundtrack, the inscrutable plot, the anaerobic dullness of every second that McQueen is off-camera. Bullitt scrabbles to its minor footnote status in film history on two counts. The first: It marks the only time any man ever looked cool in a cardigan -- McQueen should have gotten the academy's knitwear award. The second is the movie's remarkable seven-minute chase scene, with real cars (the Mustang and a black Dodge Charger), real drivers and real stunts, no special effects.

An elegant, witty but also sometimes tedious spin on the legend of Dracula.

There's a lot of low-key poetry and nicely casual tension in Hunter's direction and in Frederick Elmes' cinematography--and the acting ensemble is fine. For all its flaws and the revulsion it may induce, River's Edge has something valuable: a dark, harrowing but moral perspective.

An elegant farce written and directed by Michael Lindsay-Hogg. At first, frankly, The Object of Beauty is not as much fun as you might expect it to be, but ends up having more to offer both the audience and Tina and Jake than either we or they suspect. [12 April 1991, p.F1]

Fried Green Tomatoes is a folksy enigma, an ordinary film blessed with a number of out-of-the-ordinary performances. Not only does its plot deal in part with women stuck in unhappy circumstances, its very existence makes you wonder how its trapped actresses managed to make the best of a dramatically disheartening situation. [27 Dec 1991, p.F1]

It won’t replace your favorite girl-meets-boy classics, but it yo-yos between the heart and the loins with admirable verve, and it boasts a few richly comic turns.

Guzzoni’s movie is an unsparing portrait of aimlessness told mostly in the queasiest shades.

Save a bit of narrative padding (karaoke, anyone?), this is a mostly swift and lively ride as the tables turn — and turn again — in some absurdly clever ways.

In Black Rain, director Ridley Scott and his team pump in so much pyrotechnic razzle-dazzle that the movie becomes a triumph of matter over mind. It's a blast of pure sensation, shallow but scintillating, like a great rock melody, superbly produced, where the music pumps you up even as the lyrics drag you down.

Among the movie’s more disquieting pleasures is the sight of this peerless actor — known for her ability to project an air of casual, chilly mastery over any situation — wilting under the mockery of her character’s unruly students, who treat her with only slightly more contempt than her colleagues do.

Although much of what happens in Get Big feels borrowed from most every teen comedy from “Risky Business” to “Superbad,” this micro-budget effort from 23-year-old newbie writer-director Dylan Moran (who also stars), whips up plenty of humor and charm as well as several organic, well-served life lessons.

As broad as the side of a barn but much more amusing.

For those with little prior knowledge of Farhadi’s earlier work, Everybody Knows will play like an intelligent, engrossing drama about a sudden family tragedy that reopens past wounds. The director’s admirers, myself included, might find it harder to get past a dramatic approach that, sturdy though it may be, is starting to harden into formula.

It is a dark and often disturbing, boundary-pushing film, but the detached, almost ironic performance style provides a means to talking about taboo topics.

Dyrholm, an actress of formidable presence who expertly handles her own singing as well as the acting, gives a strong, truthful, unflinching performance that powers the film the way Christa's energy powered the bands she was in those late days.

As a candid and involving socio-sexual time capsule of postwar to pre-AIDS Hollywood and how one free-thinking pioneer made a secret society of legendary artists and performers undeniably happy, “Scotty” definitely succeeds.

Kore-eda is too polished a filmmaker for The Third Murder not to be of interest, but its focus is finally too fuzzy to compel the way the best of the director's work does.

You leave Ad Astra feeling dazzled and befuddled, moved and frustrated, and perhaps wishing that its maker had cast his own preoccupations aside and taken a deeper, headier plunge into the void.

Parabellum excels when it tees up the sublimely inventive and wince-inducing close quarters fights with the lethally graceful Reeves baring John Wick’s psyche and soul between reloads and headshots.

The clunky organization and very basic production values give way to something inspiring.

It's that the closeness with Dunne, as well as his complete familiarity with the boldface-names life she and her husband led in both Los Angeles and New York, has given this film a quality of personal intimacy that makes it moving and involving.

A bit of tightening, largely involving segues abroad to Australia, Japan and Kenya, would have helped the picture’s pacing. But it’s the pride and strength of Boston’s leaders and citizens, as well as the marathon’s devoted contenders and planners that ultimately fuel this affecting portrait.

Slipaway is a simple and sweet film, occasionally to a fault, but Partnow is a revelation. The material could feel manipulative, but she convinces viewers that every moment is real.

Despite its need for serious narrative compression, this remains an emotionally authentic, often poignant look at growing up and growing aware.

The film is surprisingly upbeat given the double heartbreak of the two through lines. Much of that can be attributed to Gaborno’s infectious stage presence and his storied sense of humor.

Music and sports are a fascinating blend, as both baseball and rock offer collective community celebration and catharsis, with Wrigley as the host. Mostly though, it’s fun to see rock god Eddie Vedder reveling in his own fandom, the joy he shares with all of Chicago and Cubs fans everywhere.

Shree’s film offers insight and intimacy, with survivors being incredibly honest and vulnerable, which will help to drive awareness of the problem and how to fix it.

Unlike many issue-oriented movies, the artfully crafted film isn’t designed to stir up outrage or sympathy through emotional engagement. At its strongest it’s an unpredictable ride with a winningly sharp absurdist slant; at its weakest, it leans too hard on pointed symbolism.

If our understanding of the losses these characters have suffered feels incomplete, it’s hard to come away entirely unaffected as these men and women look back at their young adulthood and the whirlwind of historical change against which it played out.

Boy Erased is a sobering, justly infuriating movie, but its own convenient elisions keep catharsis at bay.

For the most part this is an engaging refresher course in what fighting the power looks like.

Though overlong, and pitched a little too heavily toward cable-TV sensationalism...Killing for Love is still a gripping murder mystery about the fated coupling of a pair of calculating romantics too smart for their own good, and the limits of the American justice system

At times it might remind you of a slightly edgier version of the genteel White House romances that flourished in the mid-’90s, like Dave and The American President. Long Shot may nod overtly to a world under threat by terrorism, corruption and climate change, but it also yearns for a gentler, less polarized moment in our political discourse.

Take My Nose … Please! is a lively and enjoyable documentary about comedians, plastic surgery, female self-image, aging in Hollywood, and other facets of facial politics.

The archival footage, the impassioned interviews, and the inspiring story of how warriors for solutions can overcome entrenched views on poverty and health, make for something genuinely stirring.

One doesn’t need to be into pugilism or well-versed in Gaelic to appreciate Rocky Ros Muc, a documentary that is as much about roots and identity as it is a portrait of Irish American boxer Sean Mannion.

Covering an eventful artistic season, Jean-Stéphane Bron’s The Paris Opera is a well-observed vérité portrait of a major cultural institution.

Roger & Me is a terrific movie, but if it were a great one, those images would reverberate with the shareholders' meetings and the AutoWorlds and the Gatsby parties.

Tonally, M.F.A is sometimes jarring, as these outrageous, fantastical killings are motivated by authentic, grounded emotions. But at the center, Eastwood is absolutely riveting, inhabiting a true violent vigilante worth rooting for.

With moments of odd, dark humor sprinkled among the violence, this traditional study of psycho kittens in love breaks just enough new ground to be an impressive piece of work.

There may be little in this movie that you haven't seen before, but the perspective through which you're seeing it can make all the difference.

The Ritual is efficient and highly effective in its style, relying on sound, creepy production design, and the men's own fear and misjudgment to create the sense of pervasive doom. We don't see the monster in too much detail, leaving the mystery intact, but the creature design is stunningly original.

More detail about how this concert came to be — and what it means to both the performers and their patrons — would’ve made Liberation Day more illuminating, at least as a piece of journalism. But there’s a subtly meaningful power to what the film actually does.

For a film that’s incredibly angry and blackly comic, it finally, and surprisingly, makes a case for compassion and understanding.

This is an alternately handsome and harrowing ghost story, about a civilized society haunted by its own unspeakable needs.

Director Jason Wise’s enthusiasm proves undeniably infectious.

It’s an artful, boundary-pushing debut from Radcliff and Wolkstein, with breakthrough performances from Freedson-Jackson, and Pettyfer, perhaps signaling a new direction in his career.

The subject matter of Deliver Us is sensational, but Di Giacomo’s approach is more in the spirit of documentarian Frederick Wiseman, where very little is explained.

Truths this scalding and plain-spoken need no such embellishment to be heard.

What Susanne Bartsch: On Top makes clear is that the art of being seen, as facilitated by Bartsch, can carry unexpectedly poignant depth.

Jim Jarmusch gives us five different, self-contained episodes in five taxis in five cities on one night. The episodic structure breaks up Jarmusch's usual funky minimalism: It makes it less of a drag. Episodic movies usually don't work; we seem to settle into a story just when it ends and we're thrust into the next one. But Jarmusch's film may be a special case. Unbroken, his vague, meandering scenarios have sometimes dawdled into oblivion. But here, as in his last film, Mystery Train, the anomie is at least given some variation.

t times, Mully is difficult to watch as it explores the depth of poverty and abuse for some Kenyans. However, Mully’s story is ultimately heartwarming, with the postscript about his family and his efforts offering a balm to the pain.

It’s not an intimate portrait of the woman, but a celebration of the sex-positive, taboo-breaking image she created for herself and the way she rocked American culture during a hugely transitional moment.

The movie bleeds honesty, though its individual components are more memorable than how they’re assembled.

Wong’s deft script and sure-handed direction means that even as these characters spiral, we never blame one or the other. It’s a unique approach to storytelling and character building, and it signals Wong as a major talent to watch.

Suck It Up is directed with a fluid, crisp sense of energy and musicality by Canning, with a rock/grunge soundtrack

You can’t encapsulate the horrors of the Holocaust in 80 minutes, but what the 12 interviewed survivors accomplish in the documentary Destination Unknown is nevertheless a vivid portrait of genocide put into practice, and its everlasting effects on the living.

Seeing Sonia confidently gripping the leopard print-covered steering wheel of her late model Oldsmobile and getting on with her day serves as a potent and especially timely lesson about living a compassionate, vibrant life that doesn’t have any room for hatred and bitterness.

What director-editor Robyn Symon's entertaining documentary lacks in polish it makes up for with its uniquely charismatic lead subject and her stranger-than-fiction tale.

[A] dense, disturbing and palpably angry new documentary.

The script from Rideout and co-writer Josh Epstein may follow a standard high school comedy structure, but they bring something fresh to the genre with their enjoyably geeky approach.

Overlong yet alluring.

Engagingly anchored by character actor John Hawkes, Small Town Crime is a satisfyingly quirky serving of frisky pulp fiction.

Freak Show is carried by a fully committed performance from Lawther, who quivers and swans and roars like the best of the Hollywood grand dames.

[A] fascinating and frustrating documentary.

Kalhor's concise if low-key narration helps the story's many facts and facets unfold with clarity and context. Ultimately, though, it's the stranger-than-fiction nature of this eye-opening tale that makes the film so vital and involving.

Clive Barker's Hellraiser is one of the more original and memorable horror movies of the year: a genuinely scary, but also nearly stomach-turning experience by a genre specialist who seemingly wallows in excess and loves pushing conventions to their ghastly limits. [18 Sep 1987, p.18]

As a perilous dog-and-mouse game ensues, Solet packs his script with tension, dimension and several vivid flashbacks recalling the characters’ seminal encounters with dogs. Cool camerawork too.

Like “Winter’s Bone,” the film is at its best when it follows its heroine closely, letting the audience understand more about her life with each step closer to danger.

Crocodile Dundee II is almost as much fun the second time around. As an adventure it's nothing special, yet it's an inspired and good-humored presentation of one of the freshest, most likable screen personalities to emerge in the past decade. [25 May 1988, p.1]