Overall, the electricity of the music and the novelty of seeing some of these performers absolutely shred during this period of their careers easily overshadows any of its flaws.

Clocking in at a little over an hour, Lovers Rock is naturally a little lean, limited by its one-night premise and its brief sojourn into these characters’ lives. But it’s a tone poem that feels at once a love letter to the style of reggae music which it’s named after, and to the people who danced and fell in love to that music in ’80s London.

This film frequently feels like a powder keg ready to go off...And yet, Anderson also keeps the film consistently fun and funny. Nearly everything DiCaprio is doing here is hilarious.

A Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a richly textured, highly evocative story of love, lust and longing, and thanks to exceptional direction and remarkable, talented actors it’s a work to be cherished.

The film's introspective approach works well for developing mood, and its reliance on implied events, rather than telling or otherwise revealing the history, invites the audience to fill these gaps, thereby forcing participation in the narrative construction. It's a powerful debut for Wells, and a pleasure to watch.

The dreamy, deliberate pacing of all of this never feels overlong. Instead, the film gathers you up in its hands and carries you along with it, resulting it what will surely be one of the best films of 2023.

Petite Maman is richer in its simplicity; a lovely slice-of-life tale that knows that loss is so enormous and monumental that we can only linger with it for brief moments.

It is an overall joyous experience – infectious, you could say. Even if you don’t love all of the songs – there were a few that did nothing for me, I’ll admit – you’ll get swept up in the energy radiating from Byrne and his group, all of them throwing themselves into this strange, surreal, beautiful show.

On one hand, it’s a treat to watch Sandler break out of his endless stream of bargain-basement Netflix comedies to try something like this. On the other hand, by the time the journey ends, you might want to watch one of those terrible comedies just to cleanse your palate.

While occasionally frustrating to watch the film spin its wheels into repetitive or monotonous territory, the magnetic pull of simply watching Blanchett hold court on-screen is undeniable.

Eighty years on, The Wizard of Oz still stands as an icon of craft and the power of movies. For me, the moment that still amazes the most is one of the simplest: when Dorothy walks out of her displaced house and into Oz, from sepia to Technicolor.

A mesmerizing exercise in the mundane, Days is almost completely free of dialogue — and intentionally unsubtitled for this reason — inducing a kind of calm hypnotic state that makes the viewer even more aware of the sharp stabs of loneliness felt by his longtime muse Lee Kang-sheng.

Glazer's first feature film in ten years is a sick, bleak, and absolutely vital reimagining of the Holocaust drama, one that finds a new way — and possibly a more effective way — to put an important spotlight on the face of atrocities.

Ambitious and yet quietly confident, Hamaguchi’s film feels an absolute treat. Drive My Car is a hell of a ride, the red Saab riding through the landscape like a beating heart, taking viewers along a journey that they won’t soon forget.

Saint Omer is an intelligent, absorbing drama that had me under its intoxicating spell.

It can at times feel sentimental and mawkish — an inevitability of adapting the classic story — but no other film in 2019 has conveyed as much ineffable joy, or been such a testament to the human spirit.

For all its heartbreak, for all its pain, Nickel Boys is a staggeringly beautiful film. You don't simply watch it; you experience it. This is a major work of art, and we are lucky to have it.

Miyazaki remains one of our greatest filmmakers because he utilizes the medium of animation to tell intensely personal stories that open up our eyes to grand new worlds, strange new characters, and unforgettable images. "The Boy and the Heron" is one of the year's best films, and hopefully not his last masterpiece.

Nothing short of a true-life triumph, All The Beauty and the Bloodshed is all at once the most important film about addicts, outcasts, and what makes each one—no matter their "sin" or the stigma—family. There is an understanding at the core of this documentary, one that says to the addicts and the ostracized alike, "I see you. I know you. I will not turn my back on you." The message is welcomed; In fact, it sounds like a new hymn.

I'm not saying all movies need to feel this effortless, and deliver such big emotions wrapped in such thoughtful complexity. But I am saying movies like this remind me why I like movies so much in the first place.

Watching The Brutalist has the feeling of reading a great, sprawling work of literature; as you near the final pages, you're both thrilled at having made it through the journey while also wishing there were just a few pages more.

I don't want to get too hyperbolic here, but watching "Licorice Pizza" reminded me why I love movies so much; particularly the way they can drop us into another place and another time, and embed us completely into the lives of total strangers. If Licorice Pizza had stretched on for another hour, I would've been perfectly content to go along.

By grounding her intellectual explorations in intimately observed human drama, Reichardt delivers another nuanced behavioral portrait as well as an incisive historical tome.

The film seems like it should be this deeply personal exploration of one's own struggle to connect with others because of an inability to fully accept themself, but in practice, "All of Us Strangers" plays more like a sentimental novel you'd find at an airport newsstand. It's made with far more skill and care than those typically are, but at its core, they contain about the same amount of emotional insight.

Souvenir Part II is an easy recommendation on every level, a film that stands comfortably alone and allows Hogg’s journey to filmmaking, and Honor Swinton Byrne’s capabilities as a performer, to finally shine in a light that almost every cinema lover will be drawn towards.

With Mangrove, it feels like McQueen has put the story — of Black pain, Black joy, and Black triumph — back in the hands of the London West Indian community.

In what might be his magnum opus, Nolan has meticulously crafted a biopic that feels like a thriller.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a fast, fierce, and unapologetic gut punch that centers the horrific abuse suffered by the Osage nation at the hands of those who were entitled to nothing and thought themselves worthy of everything.

This is unquestionably the best performance of Timothée Chalamet's career, and Marty Supreme is one of the best movies of the year. I can't wait to watch it again.

A foreboding tone blankets "The Power of the Dog," putting us on edge nearly from the jump. Even when mundane, harmless things are happening, the tension mounts. The harmless seems harmful. Silence speaks volumes. This is a subtle movie that manages to knock us flat. 

Dick Johnson is Dead is both a poetic act of defiance and a portrait of love at the end of a life.

Three Minutes – A Lengthening is not a ghost story, but it still feels haunting.

There are certain movies that grab you from the jump, and Train Dreams is one of them — as the film began its journey, I felt instantly connected to it; engrossed, near hypnotized. I didn't want it to end.

Most of the time, attaching visuals to these songs I know so well enhanced my experience because actually seeing the performers, chests heaving and sweaty from performing choreography while singing, gave me a newfound appreciation for the disembodied voices that have been branded into my brain. But occasionally, a lighting or camera choice actually lessened my enjoyment of a song.

This bleak and profound meditation on diminishing faculties results in a shattering work of cinema. I was left shaking with the results, drawn in completely to the film’s shifts in tone and character, anchored throughout by Hopkin’s impeccable performance.

Pedro Almodóvar's Parallel Mothers may at first present like a run-of-the-mill effort from the face of Spanish cinema, but there's a deceptive amount of variation here. It's both a perfect distillation of his artistic fascinations and marked evolution in the depth of his thematic explorations.

With Poor Things, Yorgos Lanthimos meets every challenge with aplomb. Nearly every single second feels perfectly calibrated in tone, theme, character, and scope.

The search for one's identity is never an easy one. "Return to Seoul" understands that, and allows us to live in — and finally, accept — that uncertainty.

Even if the bird rescuers' efforts are merely a "Band-Aid" against an ever-engulfing miasma, Shaunak Sen provides a worthy arc for the audience to grasp an elegant understanding of the brothers' ecological purpose.

Thanks to some fantastic performances and a patient, well-crafted script, this is a film that should find international audiences interested in some truly adult storytelling. There’s enough originality and sophistication here that an English language redux wouldn’t be unheard of, making one hope that any translation maintains the craft and elegance of Sødahl’s presentation.

Within The Banshees of Inisherin, McDonagh manages to capture both the elemental resonance of folklore with the sophisticated weightiness of classic stage drama. This tragicomic tale nimbly balances both the personal and political dimensions of his richly developed characters and scenarios.

Coen shows an understanding of Shakespeare's original play as well as a willingness to go beyond it. His "Tragedy of Macbeth" leans into the staginess of the story, while tapping into the surreal nightmare of the whole thing. It's nothing short of magnificent.

Filmmakers: give us more of this, please. Just remember to give us an actual ending while you're at it.

With comprehensive access and a vital narrative, Welcome to Chechnya is an important work of journalism.

It's in favor of observing an artist, busy with her projects and her family life, like slowly sipping a warm cup of tea. In doing so, it strikes a — not quite steady but a work-in-progress — equilibrium of the personal life and the artistic priorities.

I Saw the TV Glow is both a musing on the way entertainment (and screens in particular) will step in to fill the gaps left by poor emotional regulation and support from those who are supposed to help children grow and thrive to become capable, fully-realized adults and how exclusively escaping into worlds of fiction rather than fighting the very real monsters of the week in your own mind will only hold you back.

May December is an intricate patchwork quilt of melodrama and stark reality woven into one big blanket of suppression.

Like in her previous works, director Hansen-Løve has a gentleness when painting the portrait of women living and enduring in transitions, often exiting the bubble of a relationship or (re)entering.

The final result is the funniest feel-bad movie in ages, though one that will worm its way into your thoughts long after the credits roll. No Other Choice is proof of that all-too-rare kind of theatrical experience — one capable of being far more than it appears to be from the outside looking in.

The enormity of this film intimidates me. And it hypnotizes me, and seduces me, and captures me until it feels as if the green has grown like moss over my entire body. But rather than threatening to choke, The Green Knight injects a new source of oxygen into the sword-and-sorcery genre.

Spielberg's West Side Story is a knock-out. A dynamite blend of old-school musical showmanship and modern sensibilities. It's one of the best movies of the year, and one of the best movies of the acclaimed filmmaker's career. Yes, really.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s To the Ends of the Earth encapsulates one woman’s blossoming from a reserved drone into a willing participant with Maeda’s subtle dynamism from a perpetually placid and pouty countenance to a focused visage.

Fuhrman’s performance is so unhinged, and Hadaway’s direction is so merciless, that The Novice constantly dances on the edge of character drama and full-fledged horror movie. It’s an impressive feat of incisively dark tone, even if the plot and characters are little more than shadows.

Sanders' ability to interpret the material on the page and turn it into this living painting of a film is nothing shy of a wonder.

The dreamy images and the simmering passions of the film lingered with me.

Black Bag is a perfect example of all of Soderbergh's strengths and the heights he's capable of reaching throughout this run-and-gun phase of his post-retirement career.

As the narrative unfolded in lickety-split fashion, I found myself totally charmed and a little dizzy. Anderson uses almost all of Dahl's prose here, and while that could've backfired, or even resulted in bloat, the filmmaker keeps the proceedings brisk and snappy, relying on Dahl's inherent dry humor to do a lot of the heavy lifting.

This is not as surprising or innovative as director Park's earlier work, but it is still a fascinating and exquisitely directed film about desire, regret, and love. The final moments will likely be talked about and discussed as much as any of his other work.

With The Fabelmans, Spielberg is grappling with his own mythology, and re-examining it, too. This isn't exactly how Spielberg's life unfolded; it's the Hollywood version, and that's fitting. 

Blaze is bold, striking, visionary cinema that makes for an astonishing debut. Its magnificent blend of puppetry, animation, and visual effects allows it to stand out from the crowd, but it also allows for an impressive interrogation of the human mind, delivered with tremendous empathy.

A powerful and important look behind the curtain, Beyond Utopia is one hell of a cinematic nail-biter and a stark reminder of the human rights violations being committed every day in 2023.

Skolimowski's close camera work and gripping story keep us alongside EO every step of the way. We're all rooting for him. And even when scenes veer ever more into the surreal side of things, we can't help but feel connected to the little donkey that could.

It manages in a concise and remarkable way to illustrate not only the ravages of this new virus but how its effects continue to resonate no matter the political forces looking to downplay its risks.

Bright, colorful, and truly nuts, this movie is a breath of fresh air for those who are a little over the sameness of American blockbuster filmmaking.

Here is a film that, like its source material, treats its characters with care and tenderness, establishing an instant and unbreakable bond with the audience that hits home in scene after scene.

There’s are undeniably great moments in Judas and the Black Messiah, but one can’t help but think the movie needed to push itself just a little bit further. But perhaps the raw power radiating off the screen via the performances is enough.

This is a one-of-a-kind experience that simply doesn't come around very often. Hyperbole or not, I'm willing to bet we'll be talking about "Sinners" for a long time to come.

It is difficult and uneasy, and often feels more punishing than entertaining.

Reality is an immensely nerve-wracking film that grips you from the get-go and never lets up. Like Reality Winner, we're all stuck in that dirty, empty room, wondering when we'll get out, and worrying about what will happen next. 

"To Leslie" doesn't reinvent the wheel when it comes to alcoholic drama, but director Michael Morris ... knows how to dig into these characters without relying on overt sentimentality. Alongside the performances, this is largely what makes "To Leslie" work so well in the face of being conventional.

Is God Is is an amazing piece of work. One of those "bolt from the blue" movies that is coming from a new artist with a new voice that audiences and critics alike will look forward to hearing again. This is Harris' first feature film, and I am eager to see more.

Despite its minor missteps, In the Heights is an unabashed delight. The cast all give deeply felt, deeply fun performances, with Ramos, Merediz, and Barrera as standouts. In the Heights is a celebration of a rich culture and a group of dreamers, who are messy and full of contradictions, but whose emotions always ring true.

Fire of Love is a riveting portrait of a charismatic couple who lived life on the edge.

Mescal is quite good and tender in these final moments, as Will grapples with his grief. But it is Buckley who remains the shining beacon that keeps "Hamnet" alive.

Like the characters that are drawn to the peculiar sound and dark sky on that fateful evening, The Vast of Night is a film that lures the audience’s attention to the screen and will leave you wanting more films from Patterson down the road.

Smart, entertaining, darkly comic and profoundly unsettling, Boys State is simply brilliant.

Our Time Machine might deploy too many endings, but each epilogue feels precious as if it is snatching as much time as it could with its subjects.

The Rescue is an edge-of-your-seat experience. Vasarhelyi and Chin shoot this thing like a thriller, combining both actual footage shot during the rescue with recreations featuring the actual divers, blending all this footage together seamlessly to create a wholly cinematic experience.

The Disappearance of Shere Hite, in its thoughtful compilations and equally important talking heads, should be required viewing for every self-described feminist as we strive for a more sexually-inclusive world. Without it, Hite's hopes for a truly equal world might have been for nothing.

None of this would be as successful without the magnificent work of Coon, Lyonne, and Olsen, who never strike a false note here. Nothing feels staged, everything feels genuine. Here are three great performances that never feel like performances, and that's pretty damn remarkable. 

Under the Shadow is a tragedy as much as it is a horror film, and the heartbreak lingers long after the fears have been shaken off.

Soul is dealing with themes that may even be beyond its grasp. The idea of creative passions becoming a reason for living has been a recurring thread through most Pixar films, but Soul attempts to dig deeper. And while it may not find one perfect discernible answer, it’s a search that feels inherently…soulful.

Turning Red" is another Pixar homerun, a low-stakes adventure turned high-stakes thanks to its heightened emotions and envelope-pushing animation style. It's loud and unapologetic, and while that frenzy of stuff can sometimes turn frantic, it's one of the most accurate cinematic depictions of what it was like to be a hormonal teenage girl.

A gripping snapshot of crimes in progress and an engrossing piece of cinematic activism, The Territory is a testament to the importance of being able to preserve your own history and tell your own story, as well as a call to action for the world to notice what's happening in the Amazon ... before it's too late.

Jazzy can be called many things — a slice-of-life rumination on the things we take for granted, a coming-of-age marvel — but, at its core, it's the simplest and most childlike of statements that echo far beyond the movie's pitch-perfect ending.

It’s easily the most straightforward of Argento’s films, and that works to its advantage in delivering a suspenseful thriller with bloody, terrifically crafted murder set-pieces... and a killer reveal that’s both surprising and satisfying.

At first, you might not detect the tonal deception seeded into Ryusuke Hamaguchi's Evil Does Not Exist. Yet, seemingly innocuous nature shots unfold into a thriller.

I Was a Simple Man is a slow-burning walk toward the light, a paean for life, and the land and people that shaped it. It's the kind of love letter that only a lifelong resident of Hawaii like Yogi could make, to a resilient land whose scars will take long to heal.

One Night in Miami never once feels preachy, or overly speechy. The conversations seem natural, as does the chemistry between these performers.

The best and most profound parts of Moonage Daydream are when we just get to hear Bowie share great quotes about his creative process, how he loved to challenge himself by traveling to unknown places to grow as an artist, and how he learned to embrace life and be curious about everything.

The style, tone, and characters will be familiar to you, but there will be a richness that might not be there otherwise. Then again, Hong Sang-soo is a keen observer of humanity and a skilled enough filmmaker that it probably works terrifically on its own.

Glass keeps her audience on our toes, always surprising us, challenging us, provoking us. The film’s a marvelous thing in its own right but also a thrilling invitation to follow this filmmaker wherever she dares to take us next.

A sharp, laugh out loud crowd-pleaser, Palm Springs could end up being the funniest film of 2020. But it’s not a mindless comedy. It tackles some profound topics amid the laughs, interrogating the sustainability of long-term relationships and exploring how a seemingly awful situation might be aided by a change in perspective.

Fortunately, the film doesn't attempt to turn "Yojimbo" into the first piece of an epic saga but aims to deliver another satisfying standalone samurai adventure.

It's a hilarious low-low-budget, rough-around-the-edges oddity that makes me very happy, and I hope someday it'll make you feel the same crisp beaver-beatin' joy.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour may not be a great film, but it is a hell of a good time at the movies.

Hit Man is light enough to be enjoyable, and Powell and Arjona really make things pop. However, Hit Man is also kind of forgettable, and often uninspired. The story is high concept, the execution is lacking.

It's a classical fable or a postmodern story within a story. Triumphant or deeply nihilistic — or both. The second in his planned "elements" trilogy, "Afire" will be difficult to top.