Warm-hearted and entertaining, if more sad than its quirky premise suggests.

A too-rare instance in which a gifted young actor signs on for a fright flick without coming away tainted, The Awakening places Rebecca Hall in a convincing historical setting and gives her more to do than widen her eyes in fear.

Redford, who can’t avoid exuding charisma, plays this role with utter naturalism and lack of histrionics or self-regard.

The topic's appeal is broad, but Whitehair's tight focus on one activist family keeps this film from being the one to reach an audience beyond those already involved in the issue.

The film delivers almost exactly what fans of the first installment are hoping for.

Mama represents a throwback and a modest delight for people who like a good scare but prefer not to be terrorized or grossed out.

The picture survives its excesses thanks to winning chemistry between stars Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg, who animate banter-heavy dialogue and click so well one wonders why they haven't shared the screen before.

Adoptees themselves almost certainly will find Somewhere Between an empowering reminder that tens of thousands of kids have walked this path before.

A documentary so stuffed with eye-soothing images one prays it can seduce a climate-change skeptic or two.

Absorbing if somewhat predictable in its dramatic trajectory, Jacques Audiard's follow-up to his powerhouse prison yarn "A Prophet" benefits from unvarnished, forthright performances from Marion Cotillard and Bullhead hunk Matthias Schoenaerts, as well as from the utterly convincing representation of the former's paraplegic state.

A stylish period thriller set in 1930's Shanghai, The Bullet Vanishes is one of the more striking Chinese imports.

Under Saldanha's guidance, an extensive team of animators and visual effects artists elevates the 3D format to an alluring level, with character details, dense background imagery and often complex action and aerial sequences (including a requisite Busby Berkeley-inspired musical number) appearing effortlessly executed.

A stiff central performance diminishes its emotional impact, but the visually alluring film's sensuality and tenderness give it a lingering spell.

Stand Up Guys never wobbles into maudlin or cheap-n-easy sentimentality. It is an entertaining yet sobering portrayal of not-so-wise guys who do not go gently into a no-good night.

Although formulaic in design and programmed to meet its quota of laughs, the film makes a point of going beyond basic expectations into some legitimate aspects of mature friendships without getting soggy about it.

A minimalist, image-based character study that is almost impossibly fragile and yet emotionally robust, Francine is a legitimate discovery.

Making a feel-good movie about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict could be a recipe for disaster, but French writer-director Lorraine Levy manages to avoid many, if not all, of the pitfalls in her touching family drama.

While the storyline, in which Jack Black’s dumpling-downing Dragon Warrior is reunited with his biological father, doesn’t quite fulfill its prophecies, dramatically speaking, visually speaking it’s all quite impressive — one of those very rare animated features that completely justifies its 3D glasses.

A compelling portrait of an entire nation being kept in captivity and ignorance.

The doc has little to say about the Michelin ranking system that hasn't been said, but offers enough behind-the-scenes interest to entertain foodies and inspire a few additions to their dining-experience bucket lists.

Unusual for this sort of thing, Snitch is a film after which you remember the characters and actors more than the big action moments.

Cianfrance generally shows again that he knows how to build immersive characterizations with his actors. And while this sorrowful triptych is uneven and perhaps overly ambitious, the director displays a cool mastery of atmospherics and tone.

The bottom line: The impact of this forceful indictment of our healthcare system is lessened by the sheer ubiquity of similarly-themed documentaries.

The film offers a privileged perspective on crucial moments in Johnny Cash's career, and serious fans will likely warm to it on the small screen.

The resulting journey of self-discovery is not exactly profound in its revelations, but as usual with McElwee's efforts the proceedings are enlivened by his droll, witty narration, delivered in a sonorous tone.

Gayby doesn't break a lot of new ground in the rom-com or parenthood fields, but its agreeable balance of humor and sentiment makes it worth adopting.

Alternates languidly between wistful nostalgia and a more clear-eyed assessment of its protagonist's choices.

An engrossing two-hander combining the smart-talk microcosm of "My Dinner With Andre" and the sexual dynamics of a Philip Roth novel, David Trueba's Madrid, 1987 is more universal than its title suggests and holds a strong art house appeal.

This tale of a dysfunctional family whose members experience enough personal crises to fuel a dozen films is a virtual compendium of clichés, but the star's sheer likeability makes it go down as easily as a cup of eggnog.

Fans will love its intimate mood and class-act portrayal of its subject; Dion Beebe's cinematography boasts the expected polish, but the film will likely be most popular on small screens.

Disneynature’s Bears combines sweeping vistas and remarkably intimate wildlife photography to typically stirring effect.

While it sometimes feels hard to accept everything recounted at face value -- the brothers, after all, were toddlers during the events in question -- Here I Learned to Love nonetheless feels highly authentic in its evocation of the horrors of the Holocaust and the emotional scars still borne by its now-aged survivors.

The film’s small scale is more than compensated for by its insights into adolescent awareness, the passions stoked by global causes and the moral hypocrisy of the ideologically righteous.

Two arthouse "worlds" collide with amusing and intriguing -- if hardly earth-shattering -- results in cult Korean writer-director Hong Sangsoo's In Another Country.

An interesting twist on a classic plot, Dangerous Liaisons is essentially a deluxe soap opera. But with its beautiful cast and gorgeous production design, it is still a highly enjoyable way to waste two hours.

Damning documentary pairs an individual sex-abuse case with analysis of institutional dysfunction at the Vatican.

A prime example of the type of well-produced, smartly cast independent features that Sundance has been helping launch into the theatrical marketplace over the past few years.

The only film ever to be released with the promise of a reward--$50,000 for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the bomber--Who Bombed Judi Bari? is an engrossing account of the case.

A must-see for fans of the cult musician and a moving, if sometimes oblique, look at gender-identity issues, it will find many admirers in niche bookings.

Few true-life stories are as inspiring as that of Darko Kralj, the subject of Dejan Acimovic's new documentary The King.

Frequently slaughtered for consumption in Europe, their inhumane treatment as revealed here will surely prompt outrage among animal lovers as well as those concerned with health and environmental issues.

One of rock's underheralded pioneers gets his due in Beware of Mr. Baker, an affectionate but unfawning portrait that finds the drummer of Cream still keeping the beat despite hardships both institutional and self-inflicted (heavy on the latter).

A cast of young actors is uniformly strong, as is Lance Gewer's photography.

A small but scrappy road-tripper whose solid sense of place and sure-handed blend of poignancy and unsentimental humor should earn it fans on the arthouse circuit.

A rare film dealing with Christian evangelism in a realistic way that neither mocks nor proselytizes, New Jerusalem quietly observes as a man tries to comfort his troubled best friend by bringing him to Jesus.

Some thrillers are described as taut. Talaash isn't taut, but loose and messy, the better to allow life's jagged edges to disturb the muscular, controlled world that its protagonist, Surjan "Suri" Shekhawat, has created for himself. When those inevitable cracks appear in Suri's world, the film grabs on tight and doesn't let go.

Self-contained enough for theatrical audiences new to the series, it will play best with those who've come to care for these Brits over time.

Working from a ruthlessly efficient script by husband Mark Duplass, Aselton effortlessly sets up the women’s reunion scenario before effectively flipping the action from drama to thriller.

Writer-director Adam Leon’s debut feature, Gimme the Loot, is a scrappy, funny, warmly observed delight from start to finish.

A quietly marvelous travelogue condensing months' worth of observation into a single sleepless night, Bill and Turner Ross's Tchoupitoulas follows their widely praised "45365."

Becker is now completely paralyzed, unable even to speak. But Vile keeps him almost entirely offscreen until the last thirty minutes, preferring to introduce him as he once was: Uncommonly positive and single-minded in his obsession with the electric guitar.

Fortunately this necessary infotainment pill boasts a highly effective sugar-coating thanks to the narration and on-camera presence of moonlighting co-producer Jeremy Irons.

Its account of the week beginning January 25 feels like a solid, layman-friendly addition to the West's understanding of this chunk of history.

Comedically, everyone's on the same page here, which means that, even when things flag, more fun isn't far off.

If the premise isn't as attention-grabbing as Rubber's was, the execution should help build the filmmaker's following.

The documentary Stolen Seas is not just a high-energy chronicle of a ship's hijacking; Thymaya Payne's bold debut feature steps back for a view of Somali piracy that's both broader and more incisive than most mainstream news coverage.

A history lesson that holds some pleasures even for those who know its material by heart.

Jeff Nichols’ much-anticipated follow-up to his breakthrough second feature Take Shelter feels less adventurous and unsettling but remains a well carpentered piece of work marked by some fine performances and resilient thematic fiber.

It may sound like a backhanded compliment to praise this sometimes cheesy movie for never taking itself too seriously, but in a summer of bloated spectacles, this modesty should not be underestimated.

The Call for the most part is a tense, extreme-jeopardy thriller that delivers the intended goods.

Webber’s key influence appears to be ultra-naturalistic contemporary European cinema, most specifically French, and The End of Love hits that mark often enough to make it affecting.

While the original version's four hours might have made for wearisome viewing for Western audiences, Herzog's 94-minute cut feels just right, fully immersing us in this rarified world without lapsing into tedium.

While the drama comes up a little short in emotional payoff, this is a thoughtful, nuanced film that vividly evokes life in a Midwestern community in which business often trumps friendship. It offers a rueful snapshot of the changing face of a quintessential element of American life.

This universal story could easily serve as a dramatically gripping primer on topical immigration issues to schoolchildren across the globe, from Arizona to Afghanistan. 　

For all the impressive ease with which the filmmaker handles her tyke star, Nana never quite manages to achieve the thematic resonance to which it aspires.

An all-access pass to an artist embarking on a new path, this is entertaining stuff – funny, disarming, even poignant. It's also jammed with terrific music.

This is a looser, grittier film than their work of late, and while it’s more successful in the sequences of bold theatricality than in the faux-cinéma vérité of the surrounding scenes, the mix is nonetheless an interesting one.

The film falls into an interesting intersection between documentary and feature, between reality and fiction.

You'll never play the titular parlor game again after watching Would You Rather, director David Guy Levy’s clever exercise in torture porn that manages to display as much restraint as genuine sickness.

A visually lavish epic fantasy that happily marries the latest advances in CGI and action techniques with ancient Chinese fable and a Buddhist atmosphere.

This material would never have attracted a major studio, so Christy Walton — heir to the Wal-Mart fortune — financed the picture herself, not because of any desire to become a movie mogul but simply because of her passion for the novel. She allowed the filmmakers to work without major stars or obvious commercial hooks added to the story. Although the film doesn’t always sustain dramatic impact, its fidelity to the spirit of the novel is impressive.

The Lords of Salem is more creepily atmospheric than truly scary and eventually lapses into silliness. But it does provide some evocatively spooky moments along the way.

While the exact secret to the film’s high-grossing recipe remains a bit of a mystery, it probably has to do with the good-humored chemistry between the unlikely partners, pushing the limits of censorship in the sexual-innuendo department, and a well-written off-the-wall script that makes audiences laugh out loud.

It's not surprising that the remake of the 1986 film About Last Night... is broader, cruder and raunchier than the original. What is surprising it that's also much, much funnier.

Managing to be neither sentimental nor sensationalistic, the film tells its story from the heart, and from the simple, straightforward viewpoint of young heroine Komona, warmly played by the talented Rachel Mwanza in her screen debut.

Filled with devastating statistics documenting the devastating effects of climate change on the planet, the film takes particular aim at CEOs, or “greedy lying bastards,” of the oil and gas corporations which are contributing to the crisis.

Beyond the Hills is less fun than any film about lesbian nuns and their psychotic ex-lovers ought to be. But it is an engrossingly serious work, and confirms Mungiu as a maturing talent with more universal stories to tell than those defined by Romania’s recent political past.

When rehearsals finally give way to full, unconventional production numbers, it's hard to imagine any way Hunky Dory could get much better.

Despite the familiarity of this setup, Way Back is a charmer, putting refreshingly little emphasis on Duncan's romantic needs and allowing family melodrama to erupt and simmer down without pat resolution.

Although the overlong film skirts with hagiography, at times feeling more like a promotional DVD extra than an objective account, it nonetheless has an undeniable emotional pull thanks to its fairy tale-like narrative.

There's more than enough going on here to compensate for the script's occasional tendency towards on-the-nose exposition of feelings, and evasive contrivances.

Even if the movie ultimately proves less adventurous than its main characters, it has a charm that keeps resurfacing every time you think it’s wandering too far into cutesville.

Wells directs the actors smoothly enough in individual scenes, but his work lacks the cohesiveness to really pull all the characters together and convey their shared past.

A few clumsy touches do not seriously diminish the charm of a film that is ultimately a heart-warming celebration of kindness, friendship and forgiveness. Like a fine whisky, the angry old man of British social realism seems to be mellowing with age. It suits him.

Michel Gondry takes an idiosyncratic, funny, unexpectedly poignant snapshot of American youth in The We and the I. Rambling and unpolished, the film has a scrappy charm that springs organically from the characters and their stories rather than being artificially coaxed.

Haute Cuisine is light on plot, long on flavor and deliciously French.

For all its derivative poetics -- as many exteriors as possible were shot during or just after magic hour, a la Malick -- the film is a lovely thing to experience and possesses a measure of real power.

A broken-family melodrama with a minimum of histrionics, Scott McGehee's and David Siegel's What Maisie Knew begins from scenes that will be familiar to most viewers who've witnessed a custody battle. Things get pretty orchestrated from that familiar scenario onward, but never to the point of unbelievability.

Trippy in the best sense, Vanishing Waves adds a healthy dose of eroticism to its familiar sci-fi genre.

This would all be moving enough, but the film also benefits greatly from Conde’s endlessly charismatic personality.

Its highly informative recounting of this little-known tragic tale provides a vivid reminder of the ephemerality of civilizations.

In the vein of Ma Vie en Rose (if not quite as polished and mature) and other gay adolescent coming-of-age films of comic rebellion, it's a congeries of brilliantly achieved cinematic moments and repetitive, massively self-indulgent gestures of acting out.

This nastily efficient horror film delivers genuine chills.

While the pleasures of the brief (65 minutes) Viola are modest, it displays an imagination and stylishness that marks the young filmmaker as someone to watch.

Argentine director Pablo Trapero fashions a gripping, fast-paced story.

While virtually everything that happens in this grown-up rom-com can be seen coming a mile off, Danish director Susanne Bier’s assured touch and warm regard for her characters make the film both pleasurable and satisfying.

Detour is a tautly efficient thriller that fully succeeds in making the viewer identify with its hapless protagonist’s desperate plight.

What might have been annoyingly solipsistic proves mostly charming and poignant instead, largely thanks to Nance's cinematic ingenuity, but also because of his ability to both probe his feelings and hold them at a distance.