Definitely hewing to the “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” philosophy regarding big-screen versions of long-running television shows, The Bob’s Burger Movie should well satisfy devotees.

In its essence, Rebecca is another entry in the Wuthering Heights school of dour, somber, psychological drama, steeped in ultra-British atmosphere. Though overlong, it is beautifully done.

The flaws in The Garden Left Behind should not prevent anyone from appreciating the rich, compassionate story Alves has brought to the screen with such assurance, or the heroine Guevara has brought to life with such realism.

The State Against Mandela and the Others adds little essential to the vast library of documentaries about Mandela and the anti-apartheid struggle. All the same, this is a heartfelt, humane and visually inventive tribute to a fading generation of giants whose principled sacrifices ended up changing history.

This is an intriguing if austere art house item that should please lovers of slow cinema with a more mystical edge.

There’s an element of light comedy — rather than the more familiar irony — that feels fresh and invigorating, even if Garrel doesn’t quite stick the landing.

[Paul's] warm personality and sense of humor are on ample display in this engaging documentary that makes a strong case for his influence and importance.

A tense debut built around a compelling lead performance by Bethany Anne Lind, it benefits from a couple of graceful storytelling flourishes and a persuasive sense of character.

Threaded between all these daunting messages is a vision of how things can be: Rachel Giannini is one of a few instantly-lovable teachers we meet who work in the kind of preschool parents must dream of.

Scream, Queen! feels a bit self-indulgent at times, exploring so many tangents that it tends to lose focus. Nonetheless, it's a fascinating sociological examination of the circumstances surrounding a film that inadvertently became a camp classic.

Despite the sometimes clumsy exposition, Lyrebird turns out to be an enjoyable melodrama.

It’s pretty much a one-woman show for actress Erica Rivas, who brings a sense of fun to a fast-paced comedy about schizophrenia, if that’s what it is.

Although the story is not easy to follow, the anger behind it is so virulent that it sweeps the narrative along on a wave of rage and repulsion. A downer on this scale will not, clearly, be everyone's cup of tea.

A sterling cast makes up for screenplay weaknesses.

It’s the opposite of sensational; quiet, dignified and ruminative, it gets far closer to real Chinese people than a TV-style travelogue, though its many references to events in modern Chinese history will probably lose the casual viewer.

The feature writing/directing debut for a man whose history is in art departments, it should be no surprise that the pic looks wonderful, with distinctive design and lush settings; but Rothery also fares well with the human element, helped by a mature lead performance by Theo James, best known for the YA Divergent franchise.

This isn't a deep dive into what makes one man tick, but a multilayered exploration of the love and devotion that animals inspire, whether the critter is your companion or your patient. Contained within the stories in Dog Doc is a visionary approach to caring for animals and ourselves, a way of more truly sharing the planet rather than trying to control it.

This can't-take-your-eyes-off-it documentary feels like both a mea culpa and a purge of lingering ghosts.

The light but evocative result proves as inviting as a gentle tropical breeze.

A hard-hitting psychological drama about an actress who surreptitiously monitors her former assailant and his current prospective victim, Tape benefits from its well-executed thriller mechanics and terrific performances by its three leads.

But to the generation encountering it for the first time, its pleasures should be unencumbered. While the emphasis on beguiling visuals slightly overshadows the performances, the cast is uniformly solid, and Secret Garden completists will appreciate the connection of Firth playing the father of the character he played in the 1987 TV movie.

While the rough-hewn filmmaking occasionally reveals Rapman's lack of experience working with a larger cinematic canvas, Blue Story boasts an immediacy and energy that perfectly suit the material.

For those who have never heard of these cases, this short and very to-the-point exposé can be an eye-opening experience, especially as it is set in country we tend to idealize for its wholesomeness.

The film presents a powerful portrait of displacement and environmental devastation stemming from corporate interests, but it ultimately leaves the viewer with more questions than answers.

It’s both an effective star vehicle and a tender tearjerker.

Director Martha Stephens' atmospheric period piece is in many ways its own planet: The world it conjures is a woman's world — not a world that women created or rule, but one where their longings, dissatisfactions and sorrows are center stage, and most of the story's men and boys look on from the periphery, when they're not lashing out.

It’s rare to see an ensemble film where the cast feels like it has no weak links, but Doyle has assembled a group of fine actors with buoyant onscreen chemistry across the board, and this grounds the movie from the start.

DaCosta’s kinetic direction and intimate storytelling style lets audiences see this trio — whose lives collide in unexpected ways — from new and entertaining vantage points.