Showing Up may be a rallying cry to let artists just be artists — Reichardt is famously an artist in residence at Bard College, in large part to have health insurance — but she may have miscalculated how much compassion is generated by a supposed lover of beauty who is as cold and off-putting as her figurines.

Something about the detail and clarity with which Jane Schoenbrun evokes ’90s suburbia in “I Saw the TV Glow” makes you remember growing up there — even if you didn’t.

Scandalous fun and camp are, you imagine, relatively easy with performers like this. But to give it a soul, too? It makes it monumental.

A prize-winner at last fall’s Venice Film Festival, “April” could be accused of leaning too much into an austere, art-film obliqueness. But Kulumbegashvili’s absolute control over the camera and the intensity of her calling make her film a grimly spellbinding and unforgettable experience.

To a remarkable degree, Happening is viscerally connected with its protagonist, closely detailing not just her navigation of social taboos and restrictions but capturing her unapologetic determination. It’s a movie about abortion, yes, but it’s also a coming-of-age tale about a woman’s resolve.

Perhaps there’s something in this tale of two women — or really, three — that speaks to all who try to pretend that it’s unnatural to sometimes be ambivalent about motherhood. And that motherhood is not, in ways and at times, a struggle for nearly everyone.

It’s a tall task to follow up a smash like “The Worst Person in the World,” but “Sentimental Value” rises to the occasion: Mature, sharp, bittersweet and maybe even a little hopeful.

Harrowing, but with a wry humor, and utterly transporting, Paul Schrader has synthesized his complex religious upbringing with modern anxieties into a trenchant portrait of tormented souls in First Reformed.

It’s a worthy story even without the coda of the fight for their civil rights. You never know where empowerment might stem from: Sometimes, it’s a hippie camp in the Catskills.

There’s a wistful, warm feeling when wandering into a Hansen-Løve film. Hers are delicate dramas keenly tuned to the rhythm of daily life, and “One Fine Morning” is her most radiant film yet.

The tone is so farcical that the gruesomeness of some of Man-su’s acts come slyly.

My Father’s Shadow is a gem, a deeply felt memory piece and vibrant portrait of Nigeria in 1993.

It’s quite a journey for one film. All credit to Eisenberg, and his superb co-star, for making the road trip so thought-provoking.

The chapters don’t cohere in a sustained rhythm, but in richly evocative imagery, The Green Knight makes its own vivid film language and pacing.

The documentary, directed by Bonni Cohen and Jon Shenk, is vigilant in widening is lens to capture the broader problems at USA Gymnastics.

This West Side Story succeeds most as a revival not just of Robbins’ musical but of the best of classical, studio-made, big-screen cinema.

Its examination of the cowboy masculinity that leads Brady and his peers to seek a life of thrills and danger only scratches the surface, but you’ll be surprised at how intoxicating and enveloping it is, right down to the on-the-nose metaphors.

Eighth Grade is a revelation of both a remarkably natural young performer and a clever, sensitive young filmmaker.

A disturbingly vivid new film by Neil Jordan for George Harrison's Handmade Films. It is distinguished by a riveting performance by Bob Hoskins, who was named best male performer at the recent Cannes Film Festival. He is certain to receive Academy consideration early next year.

Is this the best animated movie of the year? Totally, so far. It might even be the best movie of the year.

If Soto’s film is loose and gritty, its satire is remarkably precise. This is a farce of creative life where the only pure artistic intention is a joke.

In our world of gross TikTok hacks for one pot meals, it’s a balm to see things slowed down and with many, many beautifully rustic copper pots and cast-iron pans.

Rarely have the hues of black and white, cinematographically speaking, looked so beautifully lush as in Passing, the hugely impressive directorial debut of actor Rebecca Hall.

Beyond any direct lines of connection between past and present, “Two Prosecutors” has the neatness and timelessness of a parable, one that Gogol might have written, and one that could resonate in any era where the naively courageous challenge fascism.

It’s based on Adam Mars-Jones’ “Box Hill,” but Lighton’s film largely avoids the darker, abusive turns of the novel. Lighton is more keen to enjoy the unfolding dynamics of a relationship in the extreme, one that ultimately, like any other, is guided by needs and wants.

Black Bag follows a run of agilely directed thrillers by Soderbergh made with screenwriter David Koepp. They are both at the height of their almost-too-easy powers; the script, especially, is peppered with delectable dialogue.

It lulls the viewer, along with the protagonist, into a misty, dreamlike delirium until you’re not even certain of what’s right in front of your face.

Time is the fundamental metric of prison life, which makes a documentary like “Daughters,” filmed over years, uniquely, maybe even monstrously capable of capturing its passing.

The focus sometimes gets a bit blurry, to be honest and the whole thing often doesn’t add up to much.

It’s an affecting window into what remains very possibly the most benevolent broadcast ever regularly beamed out on the small screen.

It is deeply personal and imbued with the kind of tenderness that is extremely difficult to see or appreciate in the moment.

Frenchman Louis Malle is an accomplished interpreter of the dreams and dilusions of American smalltimers. He draws first-rate performances from the cast, especially Lancaster as the burned-out hood and Sarandon as the single-minded survivor. [13 Apr 1981]

The loving, lyrical Maite Alberdi -directed documentary is the story of one man’s decline due to Alzheimer’s disease, but it’s so much more. It’s a stronger love story and one that tries to say things about a country’s collective memory, too.

King Beyoncé’s new film takes you on a journey of Black art, music, history and fashion as the superstar transports you to Africa to tell the story of a young man in search of his crown, matched to epic songs she created while inspired by “The Lion King.”

The movie remains a classic for the themes it represents, both on screen and off. [25 June 2005]

Movies like these barely exist anymore, and certainly not in theaters. Tween girls would do well to seek Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret out. It has all the makings of a classic for the next generation.

Just as last year’s beekeeping beauty Honeyland, The Truffle Hunters is a richly allegorical documentary of a vanishing agricultural pastime.

A potent and vividly acted drama about the FBI’s subversion and assassination of Chicago Black Panther leader Fred Hampton.

The interweaving of the characters is a masterpiece of invention. Husbands and Wives ranks with Allen's best, as mature but darker than "Hannah and Her Sisters." The laughs come not as readily, and snickers of recognition will be epidemic. But whatever happens in the courts, Allen remains the screen's best social commentator. [14 Sept 1992]

Pitt, in particular, appears so utterly self-possessed. It’s a swaggering grade-A movie star performance in a movie that celebrates all that movie stars can accomplish — which, for Tarantino, is anything.

How Coogler pulls everything off at once — and makes it cohere, mostly — is a sight to see.

The insanely winning Booksmart boasts too many breakthroughs to count. There are the two leads, Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein, both of whom we’ve seen before but not like this. There is the director, Olivia Wilde, whose debut behind the camera is remarkably assured. And then there is the teen comedy genre, itself, which Booksmart has blown wide open.

It’s a true triumph of storytelling and performance and a reminder that films don’t need to be flashy or big to be great.

Every once in a while a movie comes along that is so stirring and so moving that it stays with you long after it's over. Like a wonderful memory, it washes over your psyche for days and bathes it in some indescribable richness. The Joy Luck Club is just such a movie. This is filmmaking at its best: a wonderful story that transcends cultures. It is beautifully set and filmed, superbly acted and masterfully directed. [7 Sept 1993]

Sirāt is the kind of film that will get under your skin and fester, the kind that will leave you with a pit in your stomach.

Ridley Scott (“Alien”) has produced a new vision that is forbidding. [2 July 1982]

Huston is the unquestioned master of the greed-fueled plot, crammed with treacherous types aiming to destroy each other. He is in top form once more, presenting a gallery of low-lifes that could even baffle Sam Spade. [17 June 1985]

You may think you know Sterling K. Brown, but trust us, you have never seen this version of Brown — a man utterly dripping with villainy, if villainy were in liquid form, and all the more chilling for the calmness with which he intones the most horrific thoughts.

Toy Story 4 is a blast and it’s great to be back with the gang.

It’s both a compliment and a criticism to say that “On the Record” left me wanting much more.

All characters are beautifully cast, but a standout is Hawkins, who has the soulful voice of a young Christopher Jackson (the original Benny, who has a cameo here) and charisma that burns through the screen.

Dosa uses July’s narration to frame the Kraffts’ story with a playful sense of wonder and whimsy — a sometimes overly intrusive, too neatly packaged device in a film where what’s on screen is so overwhelmingly powerful that it might not need the extra layer.

Zhao, co-writing with O’Farrell, goes straight for the tear ducts, with crucial help from a superb cast led by Buckley — who, like her character, seems to have an extraordinary ability to dispense with artifice and access a wildness simmering beneath the surface.

The Vast of Night is, in a slinky way, about escaping small-town small-mindedness.

McQueen builds tension masterfully throughout, although is so sprawling that at times you’re left wondering whether this might have been better told as a limited television series. Then again, is it worth complaining about relative brevity when done this well?

In this little microcosm you see not only a portrait of some serious-minded youths, but how their world views, morals and political beliefs have been molded by what’s happening in the country. And it manages to be both hopeful and bleak about our political present and future.

Gosling’s task here is not merely to give dimension to a mythical American hero. He also has to play a man who famously kept his emotions in check. That may not be an asset for a movie character, but sure was an asset for the first human to set foot on another world.

To call this a field of dreams would be pushing it. But it’s a lovely way to pass some time.

A marvelous mixture of genders, a blatant attack on sexual attitudes that is both challenging and hilarious. [19 Feb 1982]

By breaking down some of the old mythology, Johnson has staked out new territory. For the first time in a long time, a “Star Wars” film feels forward-moving.

This should be a no-brainer for anyone who watched the saga unfold on television, but even those who weren’t glued to the screen in 2018 should seek it out. The Rescue is easily one of the best documentaries of the year.

Rankin’s film, his second following the also surreal “Twentieth Century” (2019), is propelled less by narrative thrust than the abiding oddity of its basic construction, and the movie’s slavish devotion to seeing it through without a wink.

A delectable entertainment. [14 Mar 1983]

It’s a pressure cooker and a wonderful showcase for three talented actors.

There is a wonderful feeling in “Between the Temples” that anything can happen at any moment.

Soul turns out to be not an exploration of the afterlife but a wondrous whirligig of daily life.

This is a premise that could turn horrifically treacly or maudlin. But Greg Kwedar — who directs and co-writes with Clint Bentley — has a firm, no-nonsense but emotional hand, even if he uses a few too many razor wire-though-the-window shots.

It could be that, if we’re talking about representing hard-to-tame adolescent urges in monster form, “Turning Red” — bold as it may be — can’t come close to matching the messy comic farce of “Big Mouth,” the far less family-friendly but much more true-to-life animated series that paired seventh graders with lascivious “hormone monsters.”

This is a movie that demands to be consumed distraction-free. But by the end, you might find yourself feeling as crazy and untethered as the wickies.

Ivory glides his players through magnificent Italian and English landscapes and in drawing rooms that breathe authenticity. Two scenes are unforgettable: when the two lovers witness a violent stabbing scene in the Florence piazza; and when the heroine, her mother and fiance encounter three of the male characters in an innocent nude frolic in a wooded pond. [1 May 1986]

“Balance is key,” one character says of nature in the film. “Evil Does Not Exist,” though, is boldly uneven.

The movie’s gathering momentum, even as it grows more claustrophobic, is owed to a few things. It comes from Ben-Adir’s artfully calibrated performance as Malcolm — here more consumed with doubt, worry and self-awareness than the usual firebrand portrayal. It comes from Odom’s deft sense of Cooke. And it comes from King’s remarkable elegance as a director.

Anime master Mamoru Hosoda makes movies that, even at their most elaborate, can reach such staggeringly emotional heights that they seem to break free of anything you’re prepared for in an animated movie — or in most kinds of movies, for that matter.

The script crackles with small, brilliant moments.

Sometimes Bowie, who refers to his public persona as “an intoxicating parallel to my perceived reality,” seems to be weighing himself like he would a piece of art. With an electric eye, “Moonage Daydream” finds the slipstream of that reality.

It is an exhilarating, distressing, funny and profound film, with one of the more memorable film scores in years, from composer Terence Blanchard.

Religion and horror are hardly novel bedfellows, but writer-director Rose Glass crafts something fresh of the construct in her promising debut Saint Maud.

Samberg is predictably charming and funny here. But it’s Milioti, who may be best known at this point as “The Mother” from “How I Met Your Mother” or “that girl who was in that one ‘Black Mirror’ episode,” who is the big revelation, finally getting the spotlight which has been a long time coming.

It is massive, but nothing could exactly recreate the decibel-bursting exhilaration of a live music performance, particularly one at this scale. But in this format, Swift gets as close as possible — and for her, being an exception to the rule is par for the course.

It’s perfectly enjoyable: a glossy, easy-to-digest Powell showcase that isn’t trying to be anything but fun. But the second coming of the action-comedy-romance, it is not.

Fire is in the air this summer, literally, and at the movies. Though the flames in German filmmaker Christian Petzold’s Afire aren’t of the nuclear variety, the smoke from his tension-filled chamber piece about a few young adults at a vacation house near the Baltic Sea certainly gets in your eyes.

Maiden is simply magnificent storytelling and a must-see for all ages and genders.

You Won’t Be Alone enchants in its novel perspective and in its sharp-shifting protagonist’s unquenchable curiosity. The witch, once so set in stereotype, has never felt so enthrallingly elastic.

How these two 20-somethings actually hook up is the subject of this sweet, down-to-earth, funny and thoughtful rom-com that shows two strangers moving though London and visibly falling in love over a matter of hours.

A Quiet Place may not have the weighty social meaning or piercing comedy of another recent high-profile horror thriller, “Get Out.” But like that movie it is smart, it moves fast, it has a hugely satisfying ending — and it deserves to attract a much broader audience than the usual horror film devotees.

Çatan and co-writer Johannes Duncker, who in fact attended school together, are making the point that even a middle school is a microcosm of society and all its tensions and ills.

C’mon C’mon doesn’t really go anywhere in particular. It’s a meandering experience, but purposefully so. And it’s the kind of film that makes you want to leave the theater and ask the big, cheesy, sincere questions of strangers, family, anyone really.

The whodunit turns out not only to still have a few moves left but to be downright acrobatic.

Allen is expert at playing life's victims, but he never was more persuasive. Even when he is striving hopelessly to retain the one client with a chance for stardom, Danny Rose retains a certain dignity. Woody Allen remains the most original and daring comedy artist in films today. [16 Jan 1984]

Challengers is a drama, but a funny and self-aware one. It doesn’t take itself very seriously and has a lot of fun with its characters, all three of which are anti-heroes in a way.

Payne, working with a sharp script written by David Hemingston, keeps The Holdovers grounded and real. Even absent your own memories of smoking indoors or handsewn outerwear, this is the kind of thoughtful, precisely constructed movie where you can almost taste the cigarette smoke and feel your fingers numbing through drafty wool mittens.

Marder, who wrote the screenplay with his brother, Abraham Marder, takes far too long to get to his points in a sluggish middle but has crafted a quite lyrical tale of a man trying to find his way when everything he knows is taken away.

Absorbing, brash, exhausting, urgent, sometimes brilliant and sometimes unapologetically messy

It’s all so handsomely shot and deliberately staged that you might at times worry that The Last Black Man in San Francisco is leaning more toward picturesque than profound. But when Talbot’s film rises to its rousing and sensitive climax, the fairy tale falls away and something authentically soulful emerges.

That Anderson can still excitingly tell a new story within the structure of his unique visual language that we’ve gotten to know so well is just a testament to his incandescent genius. We don’t deserve Wes Anderson, but we should be eternally grateful he doesn’t seem to mind.

Navalny is so taut and suspenseful you’d think John le Carré had left behind a secret manuscript that’s only just coming to light now.

Tess is as rewarding a film as you'll encounter all season. It has a veracity to its period that matches Tom Jones and a pictorial beauty that is breathtaking. [29 Dec 1980]

Utterly original and utterly excellent, the modern bromance The Climb is a thrilling ride, an unconventional and idiosyncratic American film that acts like a old-school arty European one.