Robert Mockler's Like Me, while hardly for every taste, rises above the pack in a few ways — ranging from its ambitious style to the out-of-whack humanity of its two lead performances.

The mishmash of styles smacks of a "let's throw in everything but the kitchen sink" approach that becomes increasingly tiresome the longer it goes on and feels more like a horror anthology than a cohesive story. Nonetheless, there's no denying that the film could well please hardcore genre aficionados for whom more is always better.

The Opera House is a feast for opera lovers and anyone interested in urban planning.

Like Seweryn, Konieczna is a performer with considerable experience on the Polish stage and she fulfils the same function in the film as Zofia does in the family — holding everything together with an admirably unfussy stoicism.

Interminable dull stretches blunt the impact of undeniably exciting action sequences, making the series finale unlikely to leave even fans wanting more.

Increasingly tense and benefiting from a well-thought-out script by Tony Gilroy, it finds a slim opening for heroics in a place where all parties are tainted.

Clearly weighted towards Gitai's own liberal political stance, but incorporating a range of other views too, West of the Jordan River is a dry and sometimes depressing film, but informative and humane too.

In a terrific performance that encompasses countless attitudinal, emotional and physical shifts, Joaquin Phoenix eases into the lead role with equal parts raw pain, ironic humor and eventual mellow acceptance.

Despite its technical gloss and effective performances, Den of Thieves never manage to feel other than hopelessly derivative.

Sluggish and somber, with nary a wink, chuckle or sigh of relief to mitigate the misery, the film is a slog. That's unfortunate, because the writer-directors have a strong visual sense, and, in Wood, a magnetic lead.

Unfortunately, settings alone don't make a movie, and this cliché-ridden effort feels indistinguishable from the countless similarly themed horror films that have preceded it.

The creativity doesn't match up to the ideals here, even if Abe & Phil does offer one of the better final scenes (a grace note, really) seen in recent indies.

A mishmash of action movie and buddy-cop clichés rendered in incompetent fashion, this wink-wink homage to 1991's Showdown in Little Tokyo makes its inspiration seem like a classic.

Veterans Englund and Shaye admirably give it their all, but their best efforts are not enough to elevate the subpar material directed in mechanical fashion by Zariwny.

It offers an eccentric but accessible look at American high-rise history.

Suspenseful and funny, occasionally poignant and often nearly unbelievable, it captures a certain sociological flavor while remaining universally accessible.

[Devor] displays a relentless curiosity in tandem with an evidently sympathetic eye to human foibles and peccadillos, yielding numerous fleeting insights without ever really aiming to find a grand overall conclusion.

The Banishment (Izgnanie) starts off like a thriller with a car roaring into the city and a clandestine surgery by a man to remove a bullet in his brother's arm. Then, ever so slowly, the movie falls into the clutches of long, solemn stares into space, meaningful drags on cigarettes, cryptic dialogue revealing little and a tiny drama that feels old, tired and empty of real purpose.

In the end, Kangaroo is the kind of advocacy film that's most likely to convince you if you already believe.

It's difficult to entirely resist the film's heartwarming portrait of decent people who genuinely care for each other and strive to do the right thing.

It's virtually all Hemsworth's show and he's entirely up to the task of carrying the film on his broad shoulders: He's charismatic, fearless, confident, jokey and a good old Kentucky boy who just wants to get the job done and return home to his wife and daughter.

With an attention-grabbing hook and two riveting central performances, Jennifer Gerber's feature directorial debut The Revival holds you in its grip even when it stumbles

No matter when the action is set, some things never change in Park’s world. Nor should they.

Lacking the star power that might have drawn American audiences who haven't seen the far superior original, Inside has no reason for being.

No doubt everyone can relate to the central idea of wondering about the purpose of the mementos we leave behind or those we discover after a death in the family. But a promising theme does not necessarily make for a satisfying movie.

Despite its flaws, the film proves very moving at times. The characterizations which start out excessively quirky eventually become subtler and more nuanced.

At first, the writer-director’s onscreen presence feels like an unnecessary distraction, and it could certainly be pared down. But as his interviews push deeper into the situation — and its overlap with the water crisis in Flint, Michigan — his investigative methods and congenial manner of confrontation prove productive, the results compelling and revelatory.

The mob-war stuff here could not possibly be more rote.