Landline is a film about many things: sisterhood, infidelity, growing up, marriage, parenting, self-discovery, etc. That it manages to have illuminating insights about each, and none feeling like they are taking the backseat, is a feat unto itself.

As the film progresses and a comedic rhythm clicks into place, L.A. Times blazes its own distinct, disenchanted trail of romance in the modern age.

In his directorial debut, Matt Spicer gets right what so many other films commenting on today’s technology obsession fail to capture: the aesthetic appeal of the technology.

The psychological weight of our certain death and the fact that life will go on long after we are departed is difficult to visually convey, but A Ghost Story is one of the most poignant films to ever grapple with this existential question.

Mostly funny and sometimes heart-wrenching, Showwalter, Nanjiani, and Gordon collaborate comfortably, finding laughs in the more dire moments.

By concurrently threading the needle of both the hereafter and emotional breakthroughs for our characters, it can make the plot schematics feel too tidy in their construction, but the journey in finding how these elements fit together is never less than engrossing.

Strouse wants to explore the complexities of somebody who’s chasing their dreams, mostly blind to the wreckage they might make around them, and Williams finds the layers in the character. But the message remains far more muddled than her performance.

All in all, it’s bracingly effective and not altogether dire.

The film loses form a bit as it lumbers towards its final moments, but the juice is worth the squeeze. All involved here are determined to find the laughter in the pain of dealing with other people. And if there must be blood, so be it.

Avedisian, as a director, certainly leaves the film to him and his fellow performers to dominate, but not so much in the sense of ostentatious close-ups of heartfelt monologues — rather by capturing the uncomfortable physical confrontations between everybody.

It certainly is dramatic material, but The Founder presents it as a generic “rise to the top” story without even the decency to suggest Kroc lost his soul along the way.

Haigh’s debut really nailed the insecurities of discovering a lover’s idiosyncrasies and flaws, those that grate and those that charm. Paris 05:59 manages to capture that as well, and in doing so creates a sense of ambiguity as to whether any sort of love between the men can last.

I feel like Day could have made three documentaries out of his footage: one about Greif’s journey, one about street artists, and one about the art world’s old and new guard.

One of the sexiest and most joyful road movies in some time.

by staying true to his offbeat brand of comedy, Martin has something compelling to say about moving on amidst — or perhaps because of — the humor of life.

In its formal inventiveness and compassion, Contemporary Color moves well past the boundaries of “concert movie.”

Sleepless isn’t intellectually offensive or even all that embarrassing for the talent involved. Beat by beat, right down to its twists, it’s a predictable January thriller.

Sadly The Bye Bye Man lacks both surprise and intrigue despite possessing some promise via a wild opening.

Lovesong is a rare film of mature, emotional complexity anchored by two remarkable and beautiful performances.

In light of how riveting Cage is in this film, it is a shame that he doesn’t appear more. Though he is far and away the best part about Arsenal.

While a director should have bigger things in mind than just action, even on an action canvas, the rest of the film often feels half-hearted or perhaps just half-fleshed out.

There’s a whole lot going on throughout Live by Night. Somewhere in there is a crime film worthy of its intention.

It’s clear the film may be a goof on Rodrigues’ part, but good thing it’s at least funny enough to not just sustain, but build its laughs to the very end.

Gold’s twist carries no weight because it comes from the movie being told from precisely the wrong point of view.

Credit is due to Marson for staying objective in how she tells Hurwitz’s story so it can transcend his individual experience within this complicated landscape.

It’s a shame that Passengers couldn’t improve on its initial hook. With a distinct lack of chemistry and a director without the know-how to find a deeper meaning in story, the shoddy foundation of the premise quickly collapses.

Overall, the laughs are scattershot, but the tone is good-natured, and the humor isn’t cruel.

Hidden Figures is a nice movie. At its head is a trio of good performances from Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, and Janelle Monae. But it is in essence a feature-length version of an inspiring social media image macro, or perhaps a Google Doodle. “Did you know that black women were important at NASA?” It has little else to offer.