Marczak’s film is a testament to a parent’s unwavering love and their willingness to do whatever it takes to bring their child home.

Cover-Up is an overall captivating, invigorating watch. Without editorializing too obviously, Poitras and Obenhaus have created an incredibly impactful and, at times, infuriating look at America’s history of violent imperfection, showing that when it comes to holding our nation accountable, journalists like Seymour Hersh are an absolute necessity.

The whimsical tone becomes repetitive at times, and the recurring flashbacks to Antoine’s relationship with Irene often slows the film’s narrative momentum. Additionally, the film nearly collapses under the weight of its lofty ambitions in the final act, only to dodge a potentially disastrous conclusion. However, the believability of Antoine and Suzanne’s shared journey holds firm.

The film’s adherence to these genre cliches, along with the characters’ very one-note motivations, holds “LifeHack“ back from reaching the tier of excellent heist films and, more importantly, settles for the best that a screenlife film can be.

Thanks to Ahmed and Karia’s creative collaboration, this new version of a man caught between expectation and collapse, tradition and insurgency, love and fury will hopefully find its way to a new generation that has never experienced Shakespeare’s timeless story before.

The film’s message is less about the remarkably bright creatures themselves, and more about the power of finding healing and solace in community. It’s a forgettable yet instantly re-watchable, feel-good story that tugs on your heartstrings and knows how to do it.

The culmination of Soto’s themes mixed with his comedic prowess produces an insightful meta-meditation on the meaning of creation. Its rewarding contemplations conclude its saga of misfortune with the power of the spoken word — wrapping the protagonist’s search for creative consolidation with a heart-rending bookend.

Exit 8 shows video game adaptations can still have a sense of originality, both narratively and technically.

Wicked: For Good is a lovely ode to the beauty of female friendship, the spirit of individuality, the power of goodness in the face of authoritarianism, and the influence one true friend can have on an individual to grow into their full potential.

Alex Gibney’s documentary stands as a testament to the power of art in any form to push back against both abstract and real forms of oppression.

It’s a tale as old as time, but the filmmaking basks in its luxurious style as the performances do their best to create captivating portraits of their own. There may not be too much distinctiveness from what’s on the page outside of the lack of talking, but sometimes words fail. Action is needed, and this has more than enough to satisfy.

For some, the narrative’s stronger foundation will be an asset. For others, it’s an underwhelming aspect that detracts from the overall enjoyment of the read. Either way, the film remains a fascinating piece that showcases a high level of creativity, making it worthy of being experienced.

Johnson, giving the performance of his career, along with excellent work from Blunt and Bader, makes an inconsistent screenplay not only watchable but entertaining and deeply moving.

Grabinski’s joke-a-minute approach is instantly injected with the melding of genres that Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice embraces throughout its gut-busting runtime, reminding audiences why comedies of this vein are becoming a dying breed and that Vince Vaughn, when he wants to be, remains one of the more reliable comedic presences working today.

Bertino and Fanning make some wholly horrific magic together, and their diabolical efforts culminate in a wonderfully sinister parable that is nearly impossible to forget.

While the film falls into the same pitfalls most celebrity documentaries are bound to repeat, Alvarado not only crafts a suitable tribute to one of the more underappreciated artists in American history but also shines a light on a subset of Latino culture that deserves its time in the limelight.

Lost in the Jungle is a gripping, deeply human tale of survival, told with precision, empathy, and artistry by two of the very best documentarian filmmakers out there.

A deserving conclusion to this era of the Peaky Blinders as Cillian Murphy remains in top form alongside Barry Keoghan who fits right into the world.

As is always the Achilles’ heel with Hosada, his narrative devolves into an elementary morality argument that feels completely dissonant with the extravagant imagination he’s able to conjure in his illustrations. His ambitions will always be appreciated for the bombastic exhibitions, but a deeper meaning to the themes he examines would also be appreciated.

It’s a fitting end to the Warrens’ cinematic journey and a graceful farewell to a franchise that gave us more than we ever expected.

It is a classic underdog story wrapped in bold animation, infectious energy, and real heart.

“Fiume o Morte!,” a reference to D’Annunzio’s slogan “Fiume or death!,” is a brilliant, subversive takedown of fascism, ruthless in its pushback against this embarrassing chapter.

Little Trouble Girls is a confident debut from Djukić, who captures so much life and perspective into a dreamy 90-minute film. Making it even more impressive are wonderful debut performances from Ostan and Svajger.

Honoring its protagonist’s struggle by embracing every bit of the difficulty of that struggle, while keeping a deliberate (if not exactly slow) pace, keeps the film grounded in a darkness that Fonzi ensures is always present. While that might seem overwhelming, it gives the film a sense of realism that lifts it above most legal dramas.

The film is well written enough to capture the pain of everyone involved and to understand their perspectives. The film also features great camerawork, with close-ups that make the entire experience feel claustrophobic, especially when people make Jimmy doubt himself.

With a movie like The Serpent’s Skin, the accomplishments of the whole outweigh the nitpicks of its parts. The vibe is so, so right. Anyone looking for an empowering, forward-thinking, and trippy watch will feel right at home slipping into this movie’s, well, skin. It’s quite literally spellbinding.

Director Maria Friedman has brought her landmark Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim's most notorious flop to the screen that, in several key ways, actually improves on her heralded staging. The much-awarded performances of Radcliffe, Groff and Mendez shine even brighter on the big screen.

With a film called Fantasy Life, one might expect it to contain a romanticized version of reality, where the characters’ conflicts are magically solved, and their journeys are wrapped in a neat bow. Endearingly, Shear’s version is messier and far more grounded. While the characters live extremely privileged lifestyles and aren’t quite operating in the real world, the film simultaneously touches on the compelling subject matter of personal disillusionment and its impact on mental health struggles.