The film works to rescue Arendt and her phrase “the banality of evil” from years of cliché, and largely succeeds.

The journey to this foregone conclusion features several dance-offs mashing up contemporary and classical styles, which director Michael Damian (“Love By Design”) shoots with gusto. Sure, this is all a familiar tune — but it’s still catchy.

Directed with great sensitivity by Norway’s Joachim Trier, the film is superbly, subtly acted.

This sort of violent comedy — think “True Lies’’ meets “Grosse Pointe Blank’’ — is tough to pull off, but Spanish director Paco Cabezas and screenwriter Max Landis (“American Ultra’’) nail a screwball fantasy vibe that stops just inches short of downright silliness.

Demolition, written by Bryan Sipe is, like director Jean-Marc Vallée’s previous films “Wild” and “Dallas Buyers Club,” a tale of interior repair sought through obsessive and near-penitential acts, but it’s stranger and at times more interesting than those other two.

Too Late is a good-looking gimmick of a movie, one that will only be shown in theaters on 35mm film. Old-school advocate Quentin Tarantino would be proud — as he should be, since this noir starring John Hawkes feels like a big old valentine to him.

Be advised: The film opens with a warning about “flashing lights and hallucinatory images,” and, while effectively unsettling, these do eventually get a little hard on the eyes.

A comedy as black as vinyl, Kill Your Friends is a music-industry tell-all set at a decadent London record label in 1997.

Don Cheadle gives one of the best performances of his career as jazz legend Miles Davis in Miles Ahead, even if his debut as a director ends up being an unfocused disappointment.

Most of the film, while handsome to look at, doesn’t rise above this level of obviousness.

In the end, the movie (executive produced by the late Wes Craven) degenerates into a routine, though ably constructed, horror flick.

A fulsomely, aggressively modest no-star picture, it’s a plotless, pointless two-hour hangout.

Some things, like ouzo and flaming cheese, are best left at single servings.

Jane Wants a Boyfriend loses momentum careening between Dushku’s Bianca and Krause’s Jane — the latter of whom is far more interesting.

Only Bryan Cranston, as Teller’s downsized dad, emerges with his dignity fully intact from Get a Job, whose scattershot direction is credited to Dylan Kidd (“Roger Dodger”).

I Saw the Light is as vital as a two-hour shrug.

In Born To Be Blue, Ethan Hawke plays the heroin-addicted jazz trumpeter Chet Baker as a kind of guy version of Marilyn Monroe — breathy, fragile, a country naif struggling to stay anchored in this world instead of drifting off into the next.

While “300" maestro Snyder puts together some very striking scenes — which may be enough for many fanboys — they never really cohere into a whole. He literally throws in the kitchen sink in a film that frantically introduces characters and concepts while never clearly establishing the rules of the DC Comics universe.

Swift, confident, and exceptionally nasty, this Argentine film bears roughly the same relationship to the Martin Scorsese of “Goodfellas” that Brian De Palma does to, well, all of Hitchcock.

It’s basically a narrative spin on Alex Gibney’s 2013 documentary “The Armstrong Lie,” only with less cycling footage. This is a plus for those of us easily bored by such things (so many interchangeable mountain passes and neon jerseys!), but there isn’t a ton of new material here.

Farhadi brings keen discernment to this unraveling marriage, and a third-act revelation packs a wallop.

Toby is so un-self-aware that his journey seems like mere obtuseness; what the film has to say about youthful degeneracy is less than zero.

By the time David gets someone to unleash the gas, I was wishing he could simply erase all memories of the sorry “Divergent’’ franchise.

Lovable misanthropes can be a lot of fun, but someone forgot to put in the lovable.

Desplechin draws uniformly superb performances from his young cast, making the coming-of-age genre seem fresh and vital.

You may feel echoes of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” and “Starman,” but writer-director Jeff Nichols has ultimately crafted his own unique twist on the genre.

Any Christian movie dealing in miracles is likely to be too sweet for some but this one is gently moving rather than pushy about its religious elements.

A real nail-biter of a monster movie. The question is: Who’s the monster?