Probably the most definitive portrait of Johnson that we are likely to get.

They’re the ditziest, most solipsistic protagonists I’ve seen outside of a Neil LaBute project.

Ai is his country's most celebrated avant-garde artist - he's had shows around the world, including in New York, where he lived as a student - and China's most outspoken dissident.

The film flawlessly glides along as bodies start piling up. The finale brings to mind another Hitchcock film, "Psycho."

[Refn] mixes jittery hand-held camerawork, improvised dialogue and available light to create a nightmarish world of sex, drugs and horrific brutality that will turn off many viewers while delighting others.

It might take a while to figure out what is happening, because Khoo provides no expository dialogue. But viewers' patience will be rewarded as the stories come together in a moving fashion.

Cinematographer Darius Khonji does a superb job of conveying both the sensual beauty (there's a spectacular moonlight-on-the-water sex scene with Leo and the lovely Ledoyen), and the darkness of Richard's paradise lost.

It also boasts a killer breakout performance by comic Patton Oswalt as a former classmate who becomes Theron's unlikely co-dependent and sometimes co-conspirator.

A blackly funny provocation.

Dennis refuses to push a political agenda down viewers' throats. But the message of his film -- a breathlessly paced look at the realities of war -- is clear: War and its aftermath are indeed hell.

Gives a taste of what it might be like to live inside Mike Tyson's mind.

No matter your take on Merritt's persona, there's no denying that he's a unique musician whose songs -- such as "Papa Was a Rodeo" and "Living in an Abandoned Firehouse With You" -- are worth discovering. As is this film.

The on-camera experts make intelligent, earnest points, but the Web means there’s no such thing as a real ban. Indeed the movies have always been available, as two former neo-Nazis point out.

The feature debut by hot, young Singapore director Royston Tan, 15, is a descent into hell -- a hell inhabited by five scuzzy 15-year-old boys whose world, as one puts it, "only consists of darkness."

Limps to a fairly lame conclusion, but until then its remarkable candor is like spending a memorably hilarious, harrowing and unforgettable weekend with your wacky in-laws.

Generally delightful, and reminiscent of two vanished ages: when men were men, and when movies were movies.

If the plot becomes a bit scattered in its third act, a generous interpretation might be that it’s a reflection of the chaotic cultural backdrop. Chon directs with style and a humane eye for all parties; he’s a dynamic young director to keep your eye on.

It’s not exactly giving away anything to reveal that Stamp also sings three numbers in Unfinished Song — the last one so stirring that you should bring at least one box of Kleenex.

The result is quite a ramble: Leacock talks about how equipment influences filmmaking, the making of a custard and the wanderings of his cat. Through it all, happily, his company is a pleasure.

The movie is an entertaining stroll through a colorful gallery of characters including, in villain mode, former Metropolitan Museum of Art director Thomas Hoving. "She knows nothing. I am an expert," huffs Hoving, who is so nasty he might as well be wearing a monocle - making Horton that much more fun to root for.

An intelligent and entertaining exploration of racial and sexual politics that brings alive the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s, and draws parallels with African-American identity crises of today.

Filled with arch wit, the film is sweet and sorrowful at the same time. Like many indies, it lacks much of a conclusion, though writer-director James C. Strouse shows that simple ideas, ably executed, can make an endearing film.

Even if you've never ridden a skateboard or had any interest in people who do, you'll get a kick out of Stacy Peralta's documentary Bones Brigade: An Autography.

Birds of Prey moves at a breakneck pace with a dry, totally unsentimental sense of humor, and it never gets caught up in cliched morals or weighty lessons.

Mostly it’s up to Lawrence to wring all the drama and pathos she can out of a battle over patent rights that pushes Joy to the brink of bankruptcy. No surprise that her mettle cleans up all the messiness in Joy.

Fans of Hou know just what to expect from his slow, contemplative films - and they won't be disappointed.

Pepe Danquart's To the Limit from Germany looks great, but it's an altogether different animal.

The cheesehead noir Thin Ice presents Greg Kinnear in a role that's almost too easy for him: He's a morally flexible Wisconsin insurance salesman for whom honesty is the least-likely policy.