As with the series, the movie is a mix of situational comedy and some drama. It touches on politics, personal and national, as well as other issues of class and status, that feel both era-specific and contemporary. And, of course, Maggie Smith as the crusty matriarch Violet Crawley, still gets the best lines.

A hero from an era when we still had heroes, the diminutive Romanian-born, activist and lawyer fairly burns through the screen with passion born of witnessing the worst that humanity can do. And he still tours the world with the impossible dream of ending inhumanity.

Therapy Dogs is fuelled by adolescent angst, fears of mortality, unruly energy, and frustration.

Asteroid City is very Wessy. Maybe the most Wessy ever. And thank goodness for that.

It’s a lovely, intelligent movie that explores relationships, creativity, inspiration and the benefits of wrestling with the blank page.

A sad, poignant, dialogue-driven film destined for successful post-film life as a theatre production, writer/director Fran Kranz’s debut about two sets of parents on opposing sides of a tragedy locates the humanity in the seemingly endless, peculiarly American saga of school shootings. It also celebrates forgiveness.

Intriguingly weird, and only loosely tethered to its own reality, Lawrence Michael Levine’s Black Bear is two movies in one - both on the theme of creativity-squeezed-from-pain, and both offering Aubrey Plaza the acting turn of her career.

The President’s Cake remains a lovely tale, with some sweeping, almost touristic views of Baghdad, and a slightly ambiguous downbeat ending.

Don't expect high heroic drama, but definitely be prepared for some laughs and even a bit of MCU canonical continuity, believe it or not.

Sims-Fewer clearly follows her vision, and paints an unsettling picture with sure strokes. I look forward to more.

Some scenes in The Painter and the Thief feel stagey, including a couple of delayed dramatic reveals. And the characters certainly seem aware of the camera’s presence. Seen in its best light though, The Painter and the Thief is a kind of Rorschach test: Do you see a tale of improbable friendship and compassion, or a story of trespassed boundaries and compulsion? Or, is this one of those “bistable” optical illusions, like the vase and the face, where different things are true, moment to moment?

Leave the World Behind is not perfect — a little long at two hours and 18 minutes, and a little too talky in the final act — but it is emotional and affecting and very of-the-moment.

The Toxic Avenger (Toxie to his friends) returns, not as a cheap shock-off of the cult sludge from which it emerged, but as a formidable companion piece to Lloyd Kaufman’s gloriously grungy original.

Though most of the content here is too familiar for the film to qualify as an exposé, Totally Under Control adds background context and highlights some of the voices who raised early alarms about the dangers of the disease and the impending social disruption.

This is a brisk, blackly comic film about love, marriage and the exigencies of adult life.

Irena’s Vow is beautifully filmed, with careful attention to period detail.

Weir is beyond amazing, out-cursing Linda Blair's Regan from The Exorcist, out-dancing M3GAN, and out-terrifying the child with the garden-trowel from Night of the Living Dead.

Far from being mysterious and confounding, it rings utterly true as it captures both the beauty and fragility of young boys’ friendships, amid the storm of growth and social pressure.

There’s a particular confidence to Undertone that doesn’t announce itself with spectacle, but with restraint. It’s the confidence of a film that knows exactly how little it needs to show you in order to get under your skin.

Both rudely funny and soppy in a terribly English way, Pillion is a rough-sex romance that will be relatable to anyone who has fallen hard for an emotionally distant lover.

Well-observed and gently amusing.

Nicchiarelli’s film makes a case that Nico’s instability and bleakness was no pose.

People expecting plenty of Laurel & Hardy style laughs will be disappointed, obviously, given the movie’s comedy-lions-in-winter theme. But this thoughtful portrait of a long-lasting professional marriage rings touchingly true.

It’s not always a comfortable place to be, but with Linklater explores it here with humour, rather than pathos. And once again, with his persistent humanism, he offers us a question worth exploring.

In juggling the beforementioned autobiographical, experimental, and historical elements, I Didn’t See You There can feel scattered and somewhat distant, no doubt due to Davenport’s disinclination toward treating his disability as a commodity.

You can’t come away from Love, Cecil without appreciating how much of Beaton's aesthetic outlived him.

There are two types of pirate film fans: those who love the genre for its thrilling adventure. Then there are the fans of actual piracy, the more bloody and violent the better. The Bluff combines the salt and tang of piracy with a daring, bloody fight to the finish that will satisfy fans of all ranks and allegiances.

Cow never makes any case for veganism or any other cause. Rather, the film is a product of the increasing scrutiny of our destructive hierarchical categories, including the unnecessary cruelty of factory farming, the growth in the legal studies of animal rights, and scientific interest in animal consciousness.

Orwell: 2+2=5 is food for thought for sure, practically an all-you-can-eat buffet of thoughts. As a statement, it is all over the map. But as an experiential representation of Orwell’s warnings-come-true, it is worth seeing.

A shamelessly feel-good movie buoyed by dynamic, lived-in performances, Suze offers emotional rewards far grander than its simple story might suggest. And it’s an honest pleasure to watch.

Seeds tackles topics as diverse as agri-business, colonialism, intergenerational trauma and personal grief — not to mention the enduring and often overlooked heroism of house cats. Its drama will grow on you.

It’s the antic humour set against the retro décor that acts as a common meeting ground for youth and adults to enjoy Minions: The Rise of Gru together. It’s funny on both age levels.

I’ll admit it: It wasn’t easy to say goodbye to the Seventh Earl of Grantham, his extended family and friends, and his retinue of below-stairs staff. But fortunately, the two-plus hours that is Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale provides many an opportunity for them to say goodbye to us, and to remind each other — and viewers — that history continues to march forward, and things must change.

The stunts are simply breathtaking, and the car chase sequences could put the works of Steve McQueen and Gene Hackman to shame.

I was worried King Richard would come to resemble the platitudinous The Pursuit of Happyness, which earned Smith an Oscar nomination, but is not one of my favourites of his films. I was pleasantly surprised thereafter.

Anchored by a solid performance by Tom Hanks, Finch, is a small-scale drama, that is ultimately — and please forgive me for being cliché — about the beauty of being alive. I mean that in the best way possible.

Love Lies Bleeding is bent in the most unexpected ways, filling the screen with the impossible while refusing to make excuses.

I’m Your Man is certainly a metaphor for our increasingly intimate relationship with our own technology. Some have seen it as a direct reference to our intimacy with personae on social media, virtual relationships that exist at the expense of our connections with people in the real world. Whatever it is supposed to be, it is a smart and often witty take on a not exactly new sci-fi premise.

In its corner, Baron offers the often-entertaining prospect of watching extremely large men beat each other up in acrobatic ways. The recent winner of the dramatic feature award at Toronto-based imagiNative Film and Media Arts Festival, it has a crowd appeal familiar to WWE fans, but some snappy dialogue from screenwriter John Argall and a family-friendly message to accompany the cracking bones.

In this feature debut, De Filippis paints an utterly believable picture of the kind of immigrant/children-of-immigrants family where emotions fly and can turn from rage to love on a dime.

If themes about the importance of friendship, hope, and love land a bit on the nose, there’s no denying Brian and Charles takes an innovative approach to delivering them, even if — see above — the tack is brazenly metaphorical. Yet its distinctive charms are resonant enough to offset a slender story in what nevertheless amounts to a sweet and earnest, modern-day fable.

It’s all claustrophobic and terrible and … wildly entertaining.

In the wonderfully weird and atmospheric Fever Dream, Peruvian director Claudia Llosa (The Milk of Sorrow) explores a mother’s guilt and fear in a fable of physical and supernatural contamination.

A soft, sentimental, gentle movie that doesn’t ask much of its audience, but can, if only momentarily, provide a salve for the spirit.

True to Pixar’s magic storytelling, Lightyear offers a much deeper and more complex set of ideas for adult viewers on that very theme, without being heavy or depressing. There is much sweetness here.

At under 90 minutes, Make Up doesn’t include much action but the skin-crawling effect of the film reverberates until after the credits roll. The entire technical package — the menacing visuals, the rumbling soundscape, the brief disorienting sequences of flashbacks and dreams — are anchored in naturalistic, understated performances.

It’s a neo-Western, a sensitively acted, heartfelt and ambitious drama which stumbles when it resembles an illustrated thesis about the legacy of the West.

Bodies Bodies Bodies, boosted by an excellent mostly Gen Z cast, cleverly employs all the usual tropes in a way that feels fresh and fun.

For an animated character, Scarlet feels remarkably real.

In a less careful movie, with a less relatable performance, this kind of narrative clumsiness would be ruinous. Here, it’s more like a permissible flaw in someone you care for too much to give up on.

Kimi is executed with a brisk sketch-like lightness, propelled by a jittery score from Cliff Martinez and pulse-jumping blasts of music from Billy Eilish to The Beastie Boys.

An odd, sweet, dryly funny, existential and slightly blasphemous buddy-movie, in which an Orthodox cantor, grieving his wife’s death, seeks the help of a pot-smoking college professor to understand what becomes of a corpse.

In spite of all the talent, in the end, the success of a heist movie is in whether you buy the movie’s twists and turns. In this case, it’s an enjoyable ride, but some of the story’s weaknesses make it less than it might have been.

This isn’t a film that suddenly bursts out at you. Sciamma, like her characters, works by restraining everything. She doesn’t rush the story or focus on a building sense of hunger or passion. The title notwithstanding, the movie is a slow burn, not a fire.

Amanda Kim’s admiring documentary Nam June Paik: Moon is the Oldest TV, makes a case that Paik may not have merely been one of the most influential of the avant garde, he may have been one of the most influential artists of the 20th Century - period, one who invented a new visual canvas.

The film brings great heart while underscoring ties between family, friends and, crucially, between humans and the wider environmental world in a way likely to resonate with tweens and teens in North America as it has already successfully done internationally.

The Personal History of David Copperfield is a comedy that washes over you with its warmth. Iannucci’s fans should be prepared to encounter the director in an unusual and infestious good mood.

A vicious, relentless dark comedy, the film takes the well-worn “unlikely duo forced to work together” premise and strips it down to the bone—then starts gnawing.

Given The Trial of the Chicago 7’s snapshot of an era of an almost hopelessly divided America, and Kafka-esque and monstrous misuse of power by a bullying President, the timing for its release couldn’t be better.

Border is more resonant than you’d expect, and one of the oddest movies of the year.

There are, however, three things that elevate Shelter above a C average score. The first is Statham himself, an actor who knows how to stay in his lane (all those driving movies!) and do what he does best, which is to be brusque and to kill people. Second is director Ric Roman Waugh, one of those stuntman-turned-filmmakers, which means he knows his way around an action sequence better than most.

Paul Schrader’s latest film Oh, Canada, based on Russell Banks’ final novel Foregone, is a confined affair, suggesting the art of constructing complicated toy sailing ships in small bottles. Confined, but complicated.

It’s extremely watchable, packed with curios and contrasts and narrative twists, filled with the sincere and the ersatz, the stupid and the clever, the grotesque and the goofy.

Though it’s impossible not to see the documentary as a kind of prequel to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, on its own, Navalny is a lively, absorbing mix of original and archival footage with elements of real-life thriller set against the backdrop of the current disinformation wars.

Solo largely succeeds, thanks to Dupuis’ confident handling of the tonal shifts between off- and onstage scenes in a series of stylishly lit interiors. The performances feel grounded and credible, with Pellerin especially good in revealing Simon’s contradictions, between anxious vulnerability and resilience.

Neither exactly a horror movie nor a costume drama, Mārama stakes out its original narrative ground as a kind of cathartic pageant or imaginary exorcism of history’s ghosts.

Those ambivalent towards children may find the film positively tedious. Those in tune with its up-close storytelling and gentle pace may find much to enjoy.

Vogt masterfully—undoubtedly infuriating for some - understates the horror in his film by filtering it through a bright summer Nordic sun while adults mill about oblivious to the violence around them.

An unusual blend of a travel show and those MTV staple Unplugged specials, Bono & The Edge: A Sort of Homecoming, with Dave Letterman on Disney+ isn’t exactly a deep dive as far as travelogue goes. But it does offer a glimpse into U2’s soul.

There is enough story, enough heart and action here for a fun time at the movies.

It Feeds delivers a layered and unpredictable narrative. Much of that independent energy comes from its strong ensemble cast: Ashley Greene, Ellie O’Brien, Juno Rinaldi, Shayelin Martin, Shawn Ashmore, and Scott Baker.

On the surface, Luce is a study of race and privilege in contemporary America. But it’s more broadly and more subtly about family relationships and the psychological deals we make with others and ourselves.

The film’s tone and the story structure are both naturalistic, and realistic. Carpignano doesn’t force huge moments of upheaval in the film, or story points where characters have sudden shifts of personality to heighten the drama or bring the story to a dramatic conclusion. We’re experiencing what Chiara experiences, and again that documentary feel works to keep the story intimate.

An emotionally moving thriller that smoothly negotiates the horrors of the supernatural and real world evil with haunting imagery and tension.

The Watchers is not a perfect movie, but it is an excellent start, heralding the arrival of a bold new talent.

While the movie motors along with admirable pacing for most of its lengthy running time, it stumbles in the final act, which is marred by even more bad special effects and a maudlin reunion.

Motherless Brooklyn is the sort of risk-taking effort that deserves kudos whether it works or not. As it happens, this lengthy film-noir labour of love by writer, director and star Edward Norton, is well worth the ride.

Rustin is not about the man who had a dream in front of the roaring throngs, but the man standing behind him who gave King the stage. It’s a pleasure to get to know him.

Plenty happens in Exhuma, which branches out from its home base in South Korea, briefly touching down in America, with added references to Japan. It can make for a crowded narrative, launching several storylines of unsettled spirits and ghostly miscreants. Yet Hyun's story is told efficiently enough not to seem convoluted or aimless.

The film is an exploration, a combination of fan worship, curiosity, and surprising insight into the making of Chasing Amy as well as its significance to the LGBTQ+ community and even to the cast and Smith himself. In a haphazard but honest way, Rodgers brings a new appreciation to the film.

Though it kind of loses track of its marquee title character mid-movie, Marianne & Leonard: Words of Love is a must-watch for Cohen fans, with copious concert and backstage footage. It is also a snapshot of a time, and of hedonistic artistic idealism.

Porcelain War is sometimes heavy-handed in spelling out its own higher meaning, but it is a rare look at the reality of war and the ordinary people compelled to defend their freedom and their way of life.

It’s a ghost story, a minor entry in Soderbergh’s oeuvre but still worthy of attention.

A raucous, non-stop, full-throttle slapstick comedy that makes an episode of The Three Stooges seem like a production of Swan Lake.

Scorsese is a master at his peak who has made deliberate choices about the story he wants to tell, and the way he wants to tell it, and he makes all of it count.

What is easy to watch are the superb performances from Chastain and Sarsgaard, both of whom are emotionally naked here. Their job is to convince you that despite the past, an odd and unexpected relationship may well flourish in future.

The reward of the film is watching these two consummate performers playing off each other. Moore is characteristically empathetic and sincere. Swinton, by contrast, is enigmatic and controlling as they wrestle with their different agendas and find mutual consolation in their friendship.

It’s on the track where it finds traction. The events of the various races, reflected on the faces of characters whose lives revolve around the outcome, tell a story all by themselves.

What the film communicates, along with the platonic love story, is how exhausting - morally, mentally and physically - the experience of being in a rock band can be.

Thomas von Steinaecker’s documentary, Werner Herzog: Radical Dreamer, offers an enjoyable, if fairly light portrait of the German filmmaker and survey of his 60-plus year career.

Animation director Jane Samborski’s richly eclectic miscellany of visual styles depict a bestiary of mythic creatures and outré scenes of sex and violence that are matched to director/writer Dash Shaw’s allegorical narrative.

The Lost King is a wonderfully satisfying movie. It gives both Philippa her due, and shows us how she not only found, but helped redeem the reputation of King Richard the third. Take that, Shakespeare.

Ozon’s film evolves less as a procedural story than a character study.

This is toxic masculinity seen from a feminist viewpoint; rest assured the women are not victims.

It’s creepy as hell, watching these kids with no purpose and a desperate need to be doing something important become sucked into notions about self-control and salvation.

While Stahelski is unlikely ever to be called upon to make a rom-com or coming-of-age movie, he and Reeves have taken the fluid action of the John Wick series to a point of “how are they going to top that last insane thing they did?” And there’s an imagination at work that’s straight out of Looney Tunes.

As with Carpenter, build-up is the thing (Michael is mostly talked-about for the first half-hour), and producers Blumhouse’s trademark jump-scares are a nice stylistic fit.

Mank is not, ultimately, a movie to embrace or believe but to study with a certain uneasy fascination.