The film avoids hagiography, and in doing so, brings out the undeniable humanity of its subjects.

The result is a challenging work that can be both exhilarating and grueling in its deliberate pace. Cohen is an undeniably gifted filmmaker, even if the sum total of this piece isn’t quite as interesting as its parts.

The Berra family tells the stories with familiarity and affection, often laughing or crying: this is well-trod ground, tall tales, the narrative of their family.

The Featherweight elevates its been-there story of middle-aged guys chasing their glory days with some smart, unexpected performances and a genuinely intriguing aesthetic frame. It might not deliver a total knock-out punch, but it gets a few good blows in before the bell rings.

Bad Education also calls to mind the great Alexander Payne film “Election,” with its students who are smarter and savvier than you’d expect and teachers who aren’t as mature and responsible as you’d hope. Finley actually could have used a bit more of Payne’s sharp bite in tackling this material.

Wilmont's film edges into emotional exploitation at times, but the raw moments he captures in this facility are a testament to the trust he clearly built with everyone there—and that ability to capture truth without interfering or manufacturing gives his film an undeniable emotional power.

It's quite good, for what it is. But it's that "for what it is" part that proves slightly exasperating.

The nagging, inconvenient fly in the ointment is this: Who was this really made for — African immigrants in need of advocacy, or bureaucrats in search of Oscar glory? The answer seems to be a little of both.

When progress stops feeling like progress is what Da-Rin captures in The Fever, and fantastic lead actor Regis Myrupu is a conduit for a calamity that builds and builds.

Gone Girl is art and entertainment, a thriller and an issue, and an eerily assured audience picture.

Whatever Jia shows us and wherever he takes us, we’re always aware of being in the hands of one of the contemporary world’s great filmmakers.

With most of the action taking place in a courtroom (with occasional cutaways to Goldman strategizing with his lawyers in his holding cell), viewers will most likely see “The Goldman Case” as more like a play that’s being presented in movie form. But unlike, say, Aaron Sorkin, co-writer/director Cedric Kahn makes this more of stark, no-frills, just-the-facts recreation, free of grand, dramatic flourishes and even music.

The film’s success comes from how Kernell’s skills as a director match the ambitions of her script.

Flux Gourmet is an out-of-control movie about people who are constantly trying to gain some sort of control, either over each other or whatever they got going on inside of them.

Obviously, this tale engages many hot-button issues in present-day Israel. But does it say anything particularly incisive or meaningful about their complexity? On the contrary, its ultimate message seems to rest on a kind of glib and simplistic equivalency.

Most of the best portions of “Ricky” are hard-earned enough to look past moments of inconsistent tone and approach. Because when this character study hits, it can often feel divine.

Copa 71 is stirring, exciting, and lively, a kinetic tale that finally spotlights the revolutionary event that didn’t quite turn the tide but certainly started the wave.

It's fortunate that, like "The Social Network," Dear White People is so charismatic in form and style that we easily forgive its surfeit of priviliged narcissists.

Ahed's Knee is a fascinating movie that evades most complaints of not having anything to say by showcasing its characters struggling to explain free-floating anxieties that have to do with a lot of things. It's also stylish as hell.

What’s most important to Nichols’ vision is how much trust he has in his two leads, and what they give back to him in exchange for that trust.

Silence is a monumental work, and a punishing one.

The narrative never really builds a good head of steam. That could just be because as a Westerner with extremely limited knowledge of Estonian culture and mythology, the barrage of tropes from there is relatively overwhelming for me. Even so, November never stops being a visual trip. And that may well be enough.

Maple and her team succeed in giving us a compelling self-portrait of Harlem, which is still a pretty rare thing to see. She also tells the story of how so many souls were lost between the giddy optimism of the early ’70s and the harsh dawn of Reagan’s morning in America.

It’s thrilling for even a novice fan to watch Pearce.

Jones’ take on Hitchcock/Truffaut is equal parts adaptation, CliffsNotes guide and commentary by a slew of directors influenced by Hitchcock’s work. The film is also a completely entertaining and informative gift to movie lovers, a work constructed with care, humor and insight.

Aurora Mardiganian’s story is a moving tale of heroism that Hollywood once thought harrowing enough to make into a truly disturbing feature film. Now it’s been resurrected, over a hundred years later, to be told again. It's a reminder that film doesn't just record history, it can transport us through it.

Science Fair melts your heart almost as soon as it begins, with an emotional clip that went viral of a young winner who is so overjoyed, he cries on stage while holding his award.

Such is the nature of this movie. It’s like a series of charcoal sketches with marginalia; there are unexpected mini-flashbacks, and even a visualization of a poem. Hong’s free style isn’t showy; there’s a stillness holding the film together at all times.