Feels startlingly real and inherently relevant, a shining, sterling example of cinema at its most powerful and urgent.

To his credit, however, the often-playful Blomkamp never bludgeons his audience with any specific message. He's too busy letting 'er rip with his edge-of-your-seat, and unapologetically violent, sci-fi adventure.

Extraordinarily engaging but surprisingly sobering.

Taken all together, Branagh’s film is in its own special way like a cinematic equivalent of the Irish brogue that fills it: It’s lovely, it’s lyrical and it’s next to impossible not to be swept up by its charms.

A film that is beautiful, harrowing, heartbreaking -- and necessary.

Positively soars.

A winner, through and through.

A dazzling, stirring capper to a once-in-a-generation movie franchise.

A thoroughly endearing journey, and one of the most enjoyable and touching movies to land in theaters so far this year.

I keep finding myself wanting to compare it to 1964's "Dr. Strangelove," Stanley Kubrick's Cold War comic masterpiece -- which, as any movie buff will tell you, is exceptionally high praise. In this case, it's also warranted.

After watching the bailouts, the bank foreclosures and the Bernie Madoffs of the world dominate headlines, Michael Moore is mad as hell, and he's going to try to make you mad as hell, too.

Uncut Gems boasts a kinetic energy that, by the time the closing credits roll, will make you feel like you went to the gym rather than the movie theater.

In someone else's hands, Room easily could have become a horror movie. Instead, we get an emotional roller coaster ride -- at turns touching, harrowing, crushing and flat-out beautiful...Along the way, Abrahamson's Room becomes an immensely rewarding film, and the kind of movie that promises to stick with audiences long after the closing credits roll.

The deeply resonant Gleason isn't a football movie. Rather, it traffics in universal themes that effectively drill down to the very core of the human condition. As such, everybody has something to gain from what ends up being a multilayered mediation on life.

From the first line of its deep, rapid-fire dialog all the way through to its trippy ending -- which is guaranteed prompt discussion on the drive home -- Inarritu has crafted a film that begs to be rewatched, with the promise of each repeated viewing bringing something new.

The result is an unconventional film that exists in a class by itself to this point in 2016.

It is beautiful, and it is difficult to watch. It is heartwarming, and it is heart-wrenching. It is absorbing, and it's unsettling.

An entirely fitting Christmas Day release -- filled as it is with magic and talk of miracles -- and easily one of the best films of 2011.

A meticulously shot and sharply written character study, it plays like a blend of the Coen brothers and Quentin Tarantino, borrowing its subtle philosophical core from the former and its sudden bursts of violence and blood-spattering vitriol from the latter. It's also a great film, an entertaining and thoughtful examination of one woman's journey into darkness, as well as a study of the corrosive nature of anger and hate when left unchecked.

A thoroughly uplifting bit of cinema.

The House I Live In is not a comfortable film to consider in any respect, but without discomfort it's hard to feel anger - and without anger, it's hard to imagine that anything will ever be done about it.

A singularly enjoyable and moving film.

Beasts of the Southern Wild is not only a wonderful story -- a portrait of intestinal fortitude in the face of enormous change -- but it's our story, forged in our own shared recent history and dripping with flood, sweat and tears.

The greatest movies, the ones that stick with us, are those that hold up a mirror to the human condition and reflect something back at us that we too often manage to overlook. Boyhood is one of those movies, and with it Linklater proves he is among the best practitioners of that art.

There are other movies out this year that are more technically ambitious than Wild (I'm thinking "Birdman.") There are others that are wider-reaching in scope and sheer audacity (the 12-years-in-the-making "Boyhood"). But there aren't any others that offer the power and profundity of Wild. This movie is a gift. It's also a journey.

We get what is easily the most personal and intimate film of Cuarón's career to date. His Roma is a movie with a clear and distinct setting but one that boasts universal appeal. It's also built around a relatively small, narrowly focused story -- but one that deserves to be seen on as big a screen as possible.

Not only does it deliver a powerful message, but it is wrapped in an immensely entertaining package.

It’s Buckles’ first film, and it’s an exceptional debut. Blending archival footage, singular animation and a wealth of interviews, he delivers a vital document that is at once intimate, honest, engaging and indelible.

Gravity, it turns out, is a great film, a technical and storytelling masterpiece that is buoyed by stunning visuals and which functions both as a ripping, tension-filled yarn and as a profound and life-affirming work of art.

If the goal of any Shakespeare movie is to entice movie-goers who think they don't like Shakespeare, this Richard III is a delirious success - sterling proof that even masterpieces can be rejuvenated with intelligence and taste. [23 Feb 1996, p.L24]

Larrain's film offers something human, something insightful, and something altogether unforgettable.

The Revenant is every bit as technically proficient as Inarritu's "Birdman," a film that made critics swoon with its masterful handling of the filmmaker's daring "one-take" conceit. It manages, however, to do it without the same gimmicky feel.

127 Hours -- just like "Slumdog Millionaire" -- is a masterful slice of four-star cinema, featuring an irresistible performance by James Franco, breathtaking cinematography, and the kind of deep, searching soul that is absent from so much of what comes out of Hollywood.

His a wonderful, touching story, one that made me want to scoop up every kid I know who has a scrap of creative talent, and have them watch the film. Because Elmo's story is sweet -- but Clash's is nothing short of inspiring.

The U.S. government did torture prisoners of war in the name of its so-called war on terror and, by extension, in the name of all Americans. What Bigelow and Boal seem to be arguing is that such actions take a deep cosmic toll on the people responsible -- whether directly, in the case of Chastain's character, or indirectly, in the case of you and me.

La La Land is a film with strikingly broad appeal. Whether you're a "Star Wars" geek or a hopeless romantic, a jazz fan or somebody who complains they just don't make 'em like they used to anymore, you'll la-la love it.

There are moments of depth there as well, as Anderson touches on themes of friendship and loyalty. More than anything else, though, The Grand Budapest Hotel is just a fun ride -- a wild, wonderful ride seemingly plucked out of Anderson's dream journal.

This kind of cinematic delight is a rarity, a warm and masterfully crafted reminder of why we love to go to the movies in the first place.

If there's a complaint, it's that it flirts with rambling once the main case is solved -- nearly 20 minutes before the movie ends. But Fincher uses that remaining time to expand on Lisbeth's character, which is hard to hold against him.

Whiplash is, at its core, about jazz -- that smoothest, mellowest of American art forms. But don't let that fool you. Writer-director Damien Chazelle's impressive sophomore effort is about as rock 'n' roll as a movie about jazz can possibly be.

His (Jonze) obvious affection for, and veneration of, Maurice Sendak's 1963 Caldecott Medal-winning children's book is palpable in his near-perfect live-action adaptation, a dreamy -- and, like Sendak's book, faintly nightmarish -- exploration of one child's tantrum-y side.

Like "The Hurt Locker," Winter's Bone is a spare but riveting drama with a female director. It is built around a raw, revelatory performance by a young, little-known lead actor.

A wonderfully weird love story that plays like an adult fairy tale, it's a fantastical delight -- and the kind of movie that deserves all the accolades it will most certainly receive this award season.

By the time Tully hits its homestretch -- and its nicely played third-act revelation -- it all ends up making perfect, beautiful sense. In the process, Tully becomes the sweetest, funniest, most insightful portrayal of post-partum depression you're likely to see for some time.

Lanthimos' wildly entertaining film arrives as a wickedly funny and masterfully assembled blast of fresh air.

From a filmmaking standpoint, capturing so successfully the spirit of such a multi-faceted celebration sounds like a logistical impossibility. But here it is.

More than anything this is an intelligent film, a satisfying bit of old-school sci-fi suspense.

This film is undoubtedly a piece of art, as much so as a Picasso painting, one that invites viewers to immerse themselves, scratch their heads and consider it.

If nothing else, this is a cinematic high-wire act.

A captivating portrait of the frailty and the failures of humanity.

That's the kind of movie this is, the kind that sticks with you, that prods you to examine things. In the process, it reveals itself to be something of an emotional roller coaster -- but one well worth riding.

It's one of the most engaging foreign films to come along since 'Tell No One' in 2008.

Fred Rogers dared to make a case that all children are precious and that there might be more productive ways to entertain and educate them than with popguns and pies in the face. More importantly, he decided to do something about it.

The Help isn't intended to be so much a movie about the ugliness of the era than an optimistic tale of what can spring from that kind of ugliness, about the ability of people to love one another even when they're surrounded by hatred. And on that level, The Help succeeds wonderfully, a warm and sweet song of hope.

While Isle of Dogs can be enjoyed simply for its surface pleasures -- its unique story, its singular voice and its gorgeous animation -- there are elements there that will appeal to those who want to dig deeper. That includes an argument in favor of an aggressive and adversarial press, as well as a fairly glaring distrust of government.

It's a tremendously moving drama, filled with heartbreak, humor and, more importantly, humanity.

What plays out is something like CSPAN 1865. That is, it's dense, talky stuff at times -- particularly at its start, as the film takes a good 15 minutes to gain traction -- but also highly rewarding and instructive.

The result is a human drama that quietly argues that the gift of life isn't one to be taken lightly.

Fruitvale Station is only the first in a string of civil-rights minded movies set to hit theaters this year -- contributing to what could be the most racially conscious award season in recent memory.

Chaz Ebert says that Roger would have loved Life Itself. I'll take her word for it. She knew him far better than I did. Clearly. But I'll add this: I love it, too.

The result is a film that is at once sobering and thoughtful -- and, yes, uncomfortable, at times. But it's a necessary uncomfortable.

More than anything else, however, director Jacques Audiard's gritty, grab-you-by-the-shirtfront film is a mob movie -- a really, really good mob movie. Think "GoodFellas," but with Gauloises and accent aigu instead of plates of spaghetti and accent Pesci.

It is strange. It is stylish. It is at once daring, funny, beautiful and surreal.

There's something Shakespearean about it. From the case of mistaken identity (though willfully mistaken) to the formal, old-fashioned language to the tragic tone in which it is all swaddled, this is Shakespeare by way of the Deep South.

With Spotlight, we get a reminder of the vital importance of an independent, professional press to any community.

Not only is it a searing on-the-ground, in-the-fray portrait of the heart of Egypt's ongoing revolution, but it is also a stirring tribute to the indomitable spirit of those who are risking, and in many cases giving, their lives to keep it alive.

Opening a window into a wounded soul, it reminds us that beneath even the most brusque, hard-to-approach exterior often lies a human being bearing the scars of real, sometimes devastating human experiences. Also like "Moonlight," it is one of the best films of 2016, and one not to be missed.

All music docs are not created equal. Yes, some are formulaic. But some are beautiful, some are singular, some are marvels of storytelling. And some, like Searching for Sugar Man, are all three.

Inside Out isn't just a movie. It's a doctoral dissertation on human psychology, with a bit of therapy on the side. Miraculously, it's fun, to boot.

Watching Mud unfold, one suspects that the Arkansas-reared Nichols remembers exactly what it was like to be a boy of the Southern wilds.

Louis Malle's excellent new film "Damage" - the year's first "must-see" for serious movie-goers - ought to remind both critics and audiences of a number of things of which we tend to lose sight. First, while there are few if any "new" stories to tell, the old ones will do just fine if the filmmakers reconstitute them with insight and craftsmanship. Second, in the right hands pulp novels often make better movies than classics (remember "Gone With the Wind"?), if only because it's easier to add than to subtract layers of psychological texture. And third, even movies that seem to be "about" sex are interesting only if they're really about the people behind the acts - assuming, of course, that the people are worth the bother. [22 Jan 1993, p.L22]

As one who first saw Grey Gardens two decades ago, I can happily confirm that its impact is lasting. [3 July 1998, p.L34]

Disney's unrivaled ability to wed emotional depth to high-tech razzle-dazzle endows Toy Story with its authentic heart and soul. [24 Nov 1995, p.L28]

It is edifying, it is emotionally engaging, it is embraceable.

As a result, Hereafter isn't so deep that it will change the way many people think about the afterlife. But it is heartfelt and thoughtful and, in a way, comforting.

A small, wonderfully minimalist film that nonetheless packs an emotional wallop while delivering a beautifully heartbreaking portrait of the power of human connection.

A story of hope amid the ruins -- one that everybody can appreciate, no matter their politics.

The upshot is 141 minutes of visual rapture. [25 Aug 1995, p.L27]

With Knuckle, Palmer offers a thorough -- and extraordinarily compelling -- portrait of the Travellers.

The result isn't just the best new romantic comedy released so far this year, but one of the best comedies, period.

That character flaw makes for some great shock-fueled laughs in Lewis' film -- Giamatti does full-on comic rage as well as anyone.

Boasting a rich look and an engrossing storyline, it's the rare "to-be-continued" film that doesn't leave its audience feeling cheated.

This is the kind of movie that makes you want to sit through the credits, and not for some “hidden” scene featuring superheroes eating shawarma. Rather, it’s because it’s so pleasant you won’t want It Ain’t Over to be over.

Without subtitles this time, it also stands a very real chance of migrating out of America's art houses and into its multiplexes, where it can sink its teeth into a whole new audience.

The only waste would be if people didn't go see it.

This is a self-contained story that stands nicely on its own. How novel.

Bong's film starts out as a comedy, transforms into a quirky Agatha Christie whodunnit and finishes with an unpredictable Hitchcockian flourish.

The film -- lame of title but big on fun.

A movie with a message, but the subtle kind; it's whispered wisdom, wrapped up in a story of mystery, of love, of regret, of repentance and redemption.

As beautiful as the animation is, Zemeckis' real masterstroke is combining it with a loyalty to Dickens' story.

One of the chief reasons that director Tom Hooper's richly produced film works so well is because it operates on so many different levels. The King's Speech is all about layers, and Hooper keeps it humming on several at once.

An exceedingly well-assembled genre picture, a spell-binding, edge-of-your-seat thriller.

From “Dazed and Confused” to “Boyhood” to “Everybody Wants Some!!,” [Linklater's] become one of Hollywood’s chief purveyors of nostalgia, mining it for both humor and poignance. What’s more, he does it consistently well. With "Apollo 10½," he’s done it again.

A movie that charms its way to being a kind of well-crafted teen touchstone that very well could become to today's generation what "Ferris Bueller" was to teens of the '80s.

You know how people say that they don't make romantic comedies like they used to? Turns out they do. At least, director Marc Webb does -- and has -- with his clever and sweet debut, 500 Days of Summer.

Fueled by driving beats, irreverent humor and stylish direction from first-timer Rich Peppiatt, it plays like an edgier, modern-day answer to 1991’s similarly rousing “The Commitments,” just with Irish-language rap standing in for American R&B.

Both taut and satisfyingly relevant, it presents a portrait of a compromised elections system -- one that should give the left wing, the right wing and the fringe-dwelling nutjobs something they can all agree on. Namely: We're in deep doo-doo.

Local viewers will be tickled by the wealth of New Orleans details in the production. One of the best just might be in the film's music.