The Contestant outs the Japanese reality show as a pioneering work of manipulative heartlessness, happy to put Nasubi through the ringer for ratings and, also, for spectators eager to chuckle at his mistreatment (and marvel at his cooperation in it).

It’s easy to see the film’s punches coming before they’re thrown, but that doesn’t lessen their wallop when they land.

This intensely empathetic film—co-starring Channing Tatum and Gemma Chan—has a tendency to tip into strident affectation. But thanks to newcomer Reeves, it still lands more than its fair share of punches.

In sticking its landing, Linoleum proves a case study in why no story can be fully judged until it’s over.

Even in a crowded true-crime field, it’s something of a doozy.

Justice is more of a stinging, straightforward recap than a formally daring non-fiction work, but its direct approach allows its speakers to make their case with precision and passion.

There’s something damning that comes through watching Separated—the idea that things happened and were allowed to happen because of ambition. To advance in their careers, people were willing to enact laws that would cause unspeakable and irreversible harm.

A history lesson that compensates for a lack of breakneck thrills with ominous timeliness.

Buoyed by a superb cast headlined by Adam Driver and Cate Blanchett, it’s a film of quiet, droll grace, even if it’s delicateness occasionally veers into slightness.

In this age of Luigi Mangione, it’s a snapshot of violent anti-establishment resentment and fury that’s eerily timely—and smartly leaves its own perspective on its mayhem open for debate.

Perhaps most surprising is that the portrait it presents is not of a tortured soul but of a man, and actor, who was comfortable in all the roles he inhabited.

Sitting in Bars with Cake is exactly what you think it is from the name alone: a happy-go-lucky coming-of-age movie about people who sit in bars with cake. It is sweet but, like a good cake, never too sugary and indigestible.

As a pulpy game of cat-and-mouse, however, it provides enough thrills to compensate for its illogicalities, and in Josh Harnett, it boasts a star adept at locating the fiendishness in fatherhood.

It’s Coon who runs away with the film. As Phyllis, she’s caustic and just unpredictable enough to keep Reiner’s material consistently engaging, elevating Lake George from a substandard neo-noir to a darkly funny and fresh take on the genre.

A film whose tension (and inventiveness) waxes and wanes, although courtesy of Hawke’s unforgettable masked fiend, it continues to boast an iconic horror movie visage destined to ruin viewers’ sleep.

Fortuitously timed, providing an insider’s view of this most tabloid-y of political tales and the woman at the center of it all.

A morass of the worst of humanity and, also, a tech industry that seems perfectly comfortable profiting from it.

[Ford’s] presence—along with a winning turn from Anthony Mackie as the patriotic title character—makes this adventure a sturdy return to franchise form.

A rollicking tale of the inextricable bonds between life and art, and the value of ensuring that the latter remains preserved for future generations.

It delivers supernatural and Earthly suspense in a period-piece package whose wit and personality help overshadow its rougher bump-in-the-night patches.

Whenever Stan and Strong are on screen together, The Apprentice can be magnetic, two actors at the top of their game trying to locate the malevolent soul of these public figures.

Throws a bevy of familiar, rousing punches on its way to a feel-good finale. Yet in the fearsome eyes of Destiny, it boasts its own unique power.

Courtesy of an intense lead performance from Lupita Nyong’o, it packs a moderate silent-but-deadly punch.

The film may be as fragmented as its protagonist and, ultimately, unable to reconcile its disparate facets, but its headliner’s portrait of desire, degradation, and delirium is a sight to behold—and the performance of his career.

Surrealist absurdity of the highest (or is that lowest?) order, a comedy that’s so unabashedly out there that it practically dares audiences to reject it.

Even when Heretic slides into nonsense, it's always fun to watch thanks to the excellent trio of performances with Grant setting the kooky tone.

Envisions Napoleon as a complex mix of the imposing and the absurd, his dreams of conquest—and single-minded ability to make them a reality—matched by his folly and awkwardness.

When it kicks into gear in its second half, it provides the over-the-top thrills that fans have come to expect, and which are guaranteed to leave their hearts in their throats.

Threapleton is so good in part because you can see the conflict play out on her face, even as she delivers Anderson’s idiosyncratic dialogue with rhythmic perfection. She is also just fantastically cool, rocking a habit like a Met Gala look.

A first-rate rebound from the relatively underwhelming Vol. 2, it’s a bursting-at-the-seams adventure that, minor missteps aside, reminds viewers why this ragtag crew remains one of the MCU’s highlights.

The Gullspång Miracle is a cinematic Matryoshka doll, and director Fredriksson recounts her layered saga with an intimacy that can be downright awkward.

Never dull if also only intermittently surprising, it’s another of the director’s sturdy star-studded genre efforts.

The movie has a tighter, more out-there scope than its contemporaries, but its ideas about aging and companionship are universal. Bolstered by a terrific core cast of older actors, Jules is a warm film that proves senior cinema doesn’t have to be the same fluff, repackaged several times over.

Though its daring gestures don’t always pay off, it’s a tale of internal and external brutality, of fathers, sons and clans scarred by violence, that serves as a sturdy showcase for its exceptional star.

Thanks to a host of colorful performances and an emphasis on over-the-top violence, they mostly pull off their double-dip trick.

Courtesy of charming and goofy performances by Will Ferrell and Reese Witherspoon as strangers who find themselves at war over their loved ones’ weddings, it’s amusing enough to do just fine on a screen of any size.

By re-contextualizing MoviePass as the story of Black innovation thwarted by reckless privilege, it makes MoviePass’ swift downturn delicious and even comedic for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones.

A non-fiction affirmation of Carville’s belief that you can’t affect change without power, and you can’t attain power without winning.

Alternately electric and maddening, it’s likely to polarize audiences more than any multiplex offering this year.

Campy, corny, and carnage-laden goofiness, all of it spearheaded by Peter Dinklage as a working-class schlub who’s transformed into a deformed do-gooder.

A movie manufactured to tug at the heartstrings. That it does so this gracefully and movingly is a testament to Winslet’s understated stewardship and a script by her son, Joe Anders, whose manipulations are as gentle as they are affecting.

With Furiosa, however, [Miller] chooses to follow the playbook he penned less than a decade ago. Consequently, the results are—for better and worse—only as epic as you’d expect.

A horror-comedy that takes a scalpel—or, more accurately, several weapons—to its jaunty protagonist, all while reveling in his darkly disturbed spirit.

A winningly weird comedy—premiering at this year’s Sundance Film Festival—about isolation and community.

Helander’s latest tells its story with compact concision, even as it also indulges in great gooey gobs of over-the-top mayhem.

The outrage elicited by Scouts Honor over that situation is compounded by the agonizing commentary of victims.

A no-frills survival thriller that’s as rugged as its wilderness setting.

Despite its attempts to make viewers ponder our desire for sensational stories, Cold Copy is ultimately more successful at delivering spectacular performances from its three leads—most notably [Tracee Ellis Ross]—than any sort of meaningful interrogation of post-Trump, #Resistance-era journalism.

[A] portrait of one woman’s heroism and the means by which it’s motivated by guilt, regret, fury, and despair—the last of which, ultimately, proves inescapable.

In raising some of the questions that desperately need to be asked before next January, it serves as an urgent warning.

A film that lives up to its title by being, in every way, basic—and, in the process, confirms that there’s a reason some clichés endure.

Headlined by a serviceable Liam Hemsworth and a fantastic Russell Crowe in all his hammy scene-stealing glory, it’s the bro-iest bro-fest that ever bro’d—and I say that with far more affection than condescension.

Reeves’ goofy childlike routine lends the film the sweetness it seeks.

An uplifting portrait of the possibility of rebirth—even for the most famous person on Earth.

This wrenching documentary—culminating with commentary from some of the 100 other families who contacted director Roosevelt with similar tales of false-abuse-allegations woe—gives captivating voice to their sorrow and outrage.

Thanks to its stellar animation, some great gags, and unique twists on one of Pixar’s smartest concepts, the film should be a memory that audiences find worth keeping in their minds’ headquarters.

[Its] tale about a California serial killer with supernatural intentions is filtered through a persuasive verité lens that, however skin-deep, underscores the enduring effectiveness of its non-fiction devices.

Reinsve reconfirms that she’s one of international cinema’s most electric presences, and her formidable performance is the axis around which this taut drama revolves.

A harrowing documentary recap of Brown’s unseemly track record with women.

All in all, however, Appendage moves quickly enough that its thinner spots become forgivable after the payoff of its final twist. Beyond the monster design, the film’s greatest feat is the comedy it derives from what could be a dour subject.

As far as celebratory backward glances go, it’s compelling enough to temporarily brighten one’s day.

AUM: The Cult at the End of the World affords a detailed analysis of the causes of Asahara’s popularity, and the deeply rooted hang-ups that drove him to order the infamous assault—as well as numerous other crimes.

A sturdy continuation of this cataclysmic big-screen series, whose large-scale set pieces are rooted in the fear, anguish, and compassion of its appealing main characters.

In an age of bland, unimaginative cookie-cutter blockbusters, there’s something refreshing about a movie that puts a premium on looking and sounding badass.

An old-school Jerry Bruckheimer-produced spectacular, albeit one that never deviates from a familiar summer blockbuster course and, consequently, fails to truly kick into adrenalized overdrive.

A macho fantasy about a dad acting out his daughter-saving fantasy by rescuing a surrogate child, with Statham talking tough and acting tougher in typically forthright fashion.

[Finn's] second feature may not be as consistent a rollercoaster ride as his maiden effort, but it gets the job done frequently enough to be a chart-topper.

It’s jovial, zany, and sweet, and it recreates its adorable title alien via CGI (and a Sanders voice performance) with pitch-perfect accuracy.

Unsurprising from start to finish and yet proficiently executed thanks to its impressive cast, it’s the definition of serviceable.

Follows festival tradition by featuring a stellar breakthrough performance from a well-known actor—in this case, Will Poulter’s sterling turn as a junkie caught in a prison of his own making.

The most surprising aspect of Rotting in the Sun isn’t how many hard dicks are knocking together at any one moment, but that it’s genuinely a blast despite all of that. It’s a sexy, searing satire of influencer culture and gay misanthropy, as well as a pseudo-murder mystery in one abrasive package (pun intended). This is the sleaziest fun you’ll have all year.

Never quite as funny as it wants to be, but making up for that in the violence department, it’s a healthy serving of slam-bang cinematic comfort food.

While there are some quality jokes about how hard it is to maintain authenticity, it’s all frustratingly—if unsurprisingly—surface-level. Thankfully, the film is often funny, and it's best when leaning into the absurdity that fuels Hess and Wang’s other work.

Proves to be an ideal showcase for its lead—even if its light comedy is a bit too slight.

A tribute to scientific innovation and compassion that, no matter its obvious manipulations, adeptly pulls at the heartstrings.

Though there are times when the material could be tighter, Newnham’s latest film is a compelling celebration of the revolutionary Hite.

An uninspired cover song in desperate need of its forerunner’s fire and flair.

If [Cooper’s] third behind-the-camera venture rarely gets completely under the surface, it nonetheless hits a sufficient number of wise and witty notes.

The Greatest Love Story Never Told is a study of celebrity, and the drive that it takes to maintain it. It has no intention of humanizing its shining star, only reminding us of exactly why she has retained her wattage.

At its deadliest, it’s a feat of breathtaking cinematic showmanship on par with recent standouts The Villainess, Carter and John Wick 4—even if its tale is as threadbare as its carnage is copious.

A 21st-century cautionary tale about the desire for fame and the platforms which make that dream seem so easily attainable.

The film around her never quite comes together, but Foster is more than enough reason to embark on this off-kilter investigation.

Weaving confirms that she has the nerve to be a horror icon, delivering a wicked and gritty performance, and rising to the demands of a film where she must believably convey the nuances of fright and rage, without any words to do so.

If genre fans will always know what it’s up to, that’s just another way it pays faithful homage to its by-the-numbers precursors.

I Don’t Understand You stays one step ahead of its audience at every turn, armed and ready with unexpected gags and memorably biting dialogue that repeatedly quell suspicions about whether or not it can pull off its big narrative swings.

Oh, Canada can be a clunky film at times—with some awkward performances and labored dialogue—but it’s also an often fascinating match of director and actor, in which both seem to be trying to exorcize the demons of aging through art.

Like many teen movies, I Wish You All the Best does become heavy-handed and cheesy at certain points, but that in no way diminishes the poignancy it offers.

As appealing a turn as the Oscar-winning actor has given, and it does much to elevate this inspired-by-real events tale of unlikely alliances and an even more improbable victory.

A thorough non-fiction recap of the rise and fall of the pint-sized phenom, whose mega-watt charm and expert comedic timing made him a sensation, and whose later years were marred by lawsuits, scandals, misery, and premature death at age 42.

Benson’s film is a crafty yet subtle inversion of a stale genre. It moves the viewer and gets out while it’s ahead, aiming for maximum emotional impact over any flashy, absurd striving.

They Called Him Mostly Harmless proves most interesting as a story about the various ways in which people both come together and go it alone in order to fill (or at least cope with) the holes in their lives.

Never more than skin-deep and ultimately overstays its welcome but which comes alive when—especially in its latter half—it indulges in its most wildly deviant impulses.

It’s Stalter’s brazen conviction that really sells the film. Carried on the shoulders of Cora’s leopard print, faux fur coat, Cora Bora is a taught indie that straddles funny and forlorn with unexpected depth.

Doesn’t ultimately put its star through the slam-bang paces often enough, but as a human weapon pushed to the limit, the actor proves ideally fit for such rugged genre environs.

Confirms that Washington is rarely more alive than when in front of Lee’s lens. Eighteen years after their last collaboration, the two continue to bring out the best in each other—no matter that, in this case, Lee perhaps goes a tad overboard on his end.

What ultimately lingers more, however, is its portrait of the grit, determination, and sacrifice exhibited by these individuals—a stirring reminder that there’s nothing more noble than having your fellow man’s back.

It doesn’t totally work, but it has a lot of fun trying.

Most useful to the ongoing dialogue about domestic terrorism is Against All Enemies’ investigation into the present and historical ties between American hate groups and armed servicemen and women.