Though Valderrama gives a standout performance as the avenging Angel, brother of the late Jesus (Kareem Savion), two smaller roles are also worthy of note: Paz de la Huerta as a spacy bartender at Pianos, and J. Bernard Calloway as Dre, a bouncer who’s seen it all, and who can be reliably found eating a healthy salad as he sits outside his nightspot.

In a nice change from Seyfried’s 2008 turn as the ingénue, we want to befriend James’ Donna, not mute her. She’s as gorgeous as she is committed, as funny as she is emotionally true. A big talent.

Disarmingly sweet.

Special note should be made of real-life sister and brother Aoi and Masaru Miyazaki, who give beautiful performances as the children.

Director-writer Pablo Tapero keeps the proceedings low-key and realistic. He doesn't hit you over the head with his ideas, yet he manages to say a lot about human nature.

An intelligent look at family dynamics set in a boring Washington State suburb where Bible-thumping Mormons come knocking on your door.

Jim Carrey mostly plays it straight as the narrator. The 3-D effects are uncanny; much of the audience ducked when sea snakes lunged at it. You can't get that on your TV set. Yet.

The complexity might require a second viewing, but there is compensation in the realistic acting by a cast of non-pros and the eye-grabbing, hand-held lensing by Boaz Yehonatan Yacov.

It’s a lot better than the 1997 version, if equally as stupid.

Per Swanberg’s signature style, the dialogue is largely improvised, the performances loose and funny. This may be his most star-studded cast yet, but the work is as intimate (“mumblecore” is so passé) as ever.

Blue Jasmine may sound like a topical satire, but it isn’t really. It’s a character study of an obnoxious, selfish and supremely self-absorbed woman oblivious to the pain she inflicts on others.

A sharp comedy as well as a punk-pulp spree. Don't go if you can't handle Brit slang. ("Grass" = informer.)

Dryly comic, arch, sleek, and suffused with mood-setting tracks by the likes of X and Depeche Mode, Electric Slide has some of the mordant absurdity of the novels of Bret Easton Ellis. Like its dim hero, it’s going nowhere, but traveling in style.

Veteran stage, screen and TV actor Moshe Ivgi gives a sturdy performance as Moshe, a supposed tough guy who sobs when confronted by bank robbers.

You don't have to be a fan of Daniel Johnston, an underground artist and singer-songwriter whose manic-depression has kept him from realizing his full potential, to appreciate director Jeff Feuerzeig's documentary.

It presents a reverential and loving portrait of Deren while remaining breezy, informative and entertaining.

The result is wholly original, sort of like "The Wizard of Oz" as filtered through the sensibilities of Emir Kusturica, the cult filmmaker and musician.

This rousingly sweet little flick is certainly nothing to go out of your way to avoid.

As usual with Majidi, the cinematography is super (best scene shows Karim, disguised as an ostrich, in pursuit of an escaped bird) and the acting is realistic and low-key.

A miracle of indie filmmaking. Shot for practically nothing by first-time director David Barker, it delivers more bang for its minimal bucks than many a Hollywood blockbuster does for its multimillions.

A work of drama, it's more realistic than any TV reality show.

Ends up taking enough detours to keep DreamWorks' latest animated epic from striking cinematic gold.

Visually gorgeous despite its low budget, The Terrorist is a haunting film.

Hope Springs could have been unbearably schmaltzy or crude. Instead, in the hands of these expert actors and filmmakers, it's a warm and wryly affecting mid-summer treat.

Tonally, Happiest Season is a bit uneven; it can move from broad hijinks to high emotion a little too quickly. But it also delivers wonderfully heartfelt moments.

In short, the crows are pests, but the movie shows them great affection, as do the humans who discuss the ways they must accommodate the crows. After a while it is impossible not to admire the birds’ intelligence and resilience, and see that perhaps it’s the other way around: The crows are the ones putting up with us.

The director, 30-year-old Dalibor Matanic, allows himself a few weepy moments, but mostly the script stays on target, accompanied by strong acting and lensing.

Long, talky and shot in black and white. In other words, it requires a commitment in time and brain power - a commitment worth making.