It’s neither as funny as it needs to be nor as gross and gory as you’d hope Raimi’s first R-rated feature in more than two decades would prove, while still clearly salvaged by a talented filmmaker and two exceptional performers doing their best to elevate one-note, thinly sketched material.

With a cavalcade of hilarious bits, inspired cinematography, and a willingness to earnestly be about something, The Moment serves as a bold reinvention of a mockumentary genre that, until now, was content to stick with pithy jokes.

I Want Your Sex is not quite the comeback for Araki that’s been advertised, but it holds bright spots.

For those willing to meet Wilson on his wavelength, The History of Concrete is a joyous ride full of his now-trademark detours and persistent, underlying sadness at both the state of New York (his first and true love) and, on a secondary scale, the world at large.

Dazzled and conflicted are some of the best things a documentary like this can be, and that clear passion for the subject, as well as Bezinović’s cinematic flair, makes for infectious, often-hilarious viewing.

Retaining its narrow action-mechanical focus, the film struggles to paint a convincing interpersonal relationship as much as demonstrate the value of a co-op partner.

With very few locations or characters, the film perhaps operates with a deliberate, necessary austerity after so many resources went to Boyle’s predecessor.

Holding Liat quickly reveals a much more complex picture: a constellation of personal opinions, politics, and viewpoints coming from the Israeli-American Beinin family.

Cameron wrings the most from his environment and its inhabitants, not just for the sake of going-for-broke, but to deliver something thematically resonant, folding the first two films on top of each other.

This Un Certain Regard jury prize winner is a darkly humorous, cautionary character study in letting one’s long-lost creative dreams drive every decision––one in which Soto, more often than not, finds empathy as his protagonist circles the drain.

There’s a bitter honesty to that which we aren’t often confronted with in a world where stories try to give us some way out, some bit of hope. But Goodbye June can’t tackle this material with the same kind of dimensionality present in, say, Tamara Jenkins’ superb The Savages.

That I Only Rest in the Storm should overflow with ideas is not in itself an indictment; it’s that the film should gradually shed so many of its mysteries and ambiguities.

One of the more fascinating elements of the documentary WTO/99, directed by Ian Bell, is that while it visually suggests a relic, the political observations feel as predictive as they are reflexive.

Running at a slim 92 minutes, 100 Nights of Hero was clearly never intending to match the sprawling scale of its literary inspiration––but that doesn’t absolve it of inefficiencies, modernizing its source in a way that’ll make you glad we still have the classics to hold onto.

Gornostai’s documentary is a powerful reminder that even under the worst of circumstances, humanity will always find a way to endure.

Truthfully, Marty Supreme is so entertaining, so visually bountiful, that it doesn’t require pronounced thematic coating to lend import; it would probably suffer if Safdie and Bronstein insisted upon such.

It’s inspiring to watch. Isseks provided the tools and the idea, but the students took the cause to new heights, a symptom of their strong feelings about the governmental negligence occurring in their backyards.

Cutting Through Rocks, like its subject, is resilient. The film is ultimately the sum of small, powerful moments.

With his debut feature, Arco, Ugo Bienvenu puts a unique, thought-provoking twist on the solarpunk genre.

The most spectacular sequences here are when [Wright] allows himself to let loose, working towards his instincts rather than against them.

Paul Andrew Williams’ Dragonfly largely succeeds because it never quite telegraphs where it’s going until its third act.

It’s a gorgeous piece of animation to consume. It envelopes the viewer, providing a casing similar to the bubble Amélie lives in for her first two years.

The documentary proves an inspiring tale of the perseverance of those who refuse to cater to corruption and exploitation while also rejecting the alternative of quitting.

Mumenthaler doesn’t want to give us the answers––she just wants us to wade through it and find our own way to shore.

The screenplay is overflowing with memorable meditations, blunt-but-heartfelt exchanges, and piercing affection for its people, all rooted in the natural world around them.

The most interesting thing about Gabe Polsky’s new documentary The Man Who Saves the World? is that it is unsure of its intentions.

Opting for very few close-ups, Hosoda mistakes a large scope for compelling images and achieved something fans never thought possible: he’s made a film that looks generic.

Director Shih-Ching Tsou’s solo debut Left-Handed Girl is a simple but striking drama about growing up in a family living paycheck-to-paycheck.