A very human story and a very well-told one -- which, in the end, makes it very hard to forget.

Like everything else associated with it, the drama of Graduation is decidedly low-key. While that occasionally costs it a sense of forward momentum, it doesn't hold the film back from its ultimate goals. In fact, it contributes to it in some ways.

World War II dramas might be common enough, but, amid them all, Lore stands as an uncommon entry in the genre.

Mostly it's a celebration and a song of hope that maybe the ever-quickening world will see the error of its ways and once more embrace the staccato song of the humble typewriter.

Favreau's family-friendly fable, a blend of old-school storytelling charm and new-school animation techniques.

This is the kind of movie that is so embraceable that it floats smoothly over those imperfections almost unnoticed.

The result is a simple film -- one that doesn’t try to do too much from a story standpoint, perhaps to its detriment -- but one that has a definite sense of time and place. Every step of the way, it feels honest and genuine. In this case, that makes all the difference.

Formally, Berg's film is at its root a police procedural, albeit an exceptionally well-executed one.

Even if its stumbles a bit with its less-than-satisfying conclusion, the blend of humor, horror and grotesque whimsy on display throughout Tale of Tales combine to create what often feels like some sort of grown-up, far darker cousin to "The Princess Bride."

Speaking of good storytelling, Hancock knows a thing or two about that. Not only does the "Blind Side" director deftly navigate the double narrative of Saving Mr. Banks, but his film is also a visual treat.

This is nothing if not an important film. It is important for the bullied to see, if for no other reason than to realize they aren't alone, and it is important for the bullies to see as well as for the parents of both groups so everyone can understand just how devastating the problem is.

Though the Coens have a way, as ever, with a crime yarn (even a truly goofy one), it's their ability to create eccentrically affecting characters - and to devise unusual fantasy sequences that work as large-scale sight gags - that makes this movie such a quirky pleasure. [6 March 1998, p.L30]

Inside Llewyn Davis isn't as goofy as 2008's "Burn After Reading," nor as solemn as 2009's "A Serious Man," but it's an embraceable film just the same.

It's called Chico & Rita, but their film could just as easily have been titled "Chico & Cuba." In both cases, it's a film are about a long-lost love, and in both cases it is steeped in such a pitch-perfect sense of place -- and affection -- that you can almost smell the cigar smoke as it unfolds.

Yes, there are higher-profile films out there this year, and there are films with more resonant messages. But there are few that include so many captivating performances in such an involving story.

Without a doubt, stupid, but it's willfully stupid, built in the comic style of "The Hangover" and "Due Date." Better yet, it also is genuinely funny, which is the point.

It is small, it is smart, it is quirky.

It is fast, it is fun.

Writer-director Brian Helgeland has created a medieval romp with A Knight's Tale, a joyous entertainment that defies characterization. [11 May 2001, p.10]

What's more -- and here's where Abrams' brilliance is on full display -- you don't need to know a Class M planet from a hole in the ground to enjoy it all.

With Deepwater Horizon, Berg strikes an unlikely but impressively delicate balance. On one hand, his film honors the men and women killed and injured in the explosion off Louisiana's coast. At the same time, it works just as well as a fast-moving and absorbing disaster drama.

For appreciators of fine acting, it's a film well worth seeing, as well as one worth toasting - if only with ginger ale.

Under the Skin is, in short, a film that does just that: gets under one's skin, shining a light on what it means to be human -- even if what we end up seeing is something less than comforting.

Khan in particularly is wonderful in Batra's film, which takes the time to indulge in quiet moments that Khan expertly fills with his expressive face and sense ease in front of a camera.

Ali and Mortensen are both fantastic in their respective roles. Every bit as important is the surprisingly charming script, which uses humor to soften its touchy subject matter.

Like Paddleton itself, Romano's performance isn't flashy. It isn't dripping with self-awareness or desperation. Rather, it's quietly, subtly beautiful. And it deserves to be seen.

Killing of a Sacred Deer -- which most assuredly couldn't have sprung from the mind of any other filmmaker -- will deliver a moviegoing experience that is impossible to forget.

In addition to being the most accessible and purely enjoyable of Lee's film in years, it's also one of his most important.