What Amir Bar-Lev and Charlie Lightening’s documentary provides that hasn’t been previously available is an amusing portrait of the backstage goings-on.

Proves lightly entertaining in spite of its more heartfelt tendencies.

This is a safe, serviceable, carefully crafted action drama in which the subversive seeds planted in the first story take welcome root.

A self-aware laffer that indulges in rom-com contrivance up until the point it judo-flips them to its own ends.

While the portrait of domestic malaise is occasionally intriguing (and owes much to the original comics), things wind up all-too easily working themselves out in the long run.

The central performances by Emile Hirsch and Stephen Dorff hold the film together with the intensity of their brotherly affection and support.

It would be hard to find two more contrasting actresses than Otto and Pires, but Barreto plays off their differences in culture and personality.

Slickly executed with glossy, neon-drenched cinematography and a throbbing techno-music score, Paris Countdown sacrifices substance for stylishness, as has become the distressing tendency of so many recent crime dramas. But its fast pacing, compelling lead performances and frequent doses of action prevent boredom from settling in.

In the meaty bad guy role, Harrelson entertainingly goes all the way, putting him way out there on the ledge with any of your favorite loonies, psychos and unhinged nutjobs.

Xue’s second feature is an exemplar of commercial filmmaking, and production help from a handful of Hong Kong pros (in editing, costume design, cinematography) give it the polished finish the fluffy material demands.

Using the plight of the hapless team and its troubled young players as a microcosm of American society in decline, Medora, inevitably bound to be compared to the more ambitious and accomplished Hoop Dreams, nonetheless scores some winning points in powerful fashion.

Ill-advised and amateurishly executed, Ass Backwards begins with a passably funny concept and runs it into the ground within 20 minutes.

You may come away more impressed by the intentions than by the achievements.

Energetic, humorous and not too cloying, as well as the first Hollywood film in many years to warn of global cooling rather than warming, this tuneful toon upgrades what has been a lackluster year for big studio animated fare.

Although Gregorini is very clear on where her lead characters are coming from, it’s where they’re headed that remains entirely vague, an oversight that leaves them unfortunately adrift.

The connection between art and technology is explored in an entertaining and accessible way in Tim's Vermeer, a documentary that demonstrates how a savvy and dedicated amateur with sufficient resources was able to create a remarkable likeness of a great 17th century painting.

Craig Lahiff’s feisty genre outing is a neat surprise.

There’s uncustomary warmth here and a sensitivity to the characters’ vulnerabilities that often is missing from this director’s work.

Crucially, Jung and Boileau manage to convey the bonds of affection and love that hold this unusual family together, in a manner that will ring a moving chord with many who have experienced similar circumstances.

While nothing in The Nun feels inspiring or truly groundbreaking, it’s certainly a well-handled package, and the strong performances are abetted by superb technical contributions.

Enjoyable but incomplete-feeling bio-doc both celebrates the Milius myth and tries to undo the damage it did to his reputation.

Jillian Schlesinger’s first feature, made in collaboration with Dekker and composed largely of footage that the hardy adventurer shot herself, is both low-key and lyrical as it focuses on the mundane and the magnificent.

This is far from a dull, academic work and the fast-paced talk is matched by swiftly changing scenes full of vibrant visuals. Life bubbles out of each frame in a grungy, foul-smelling rush.

Liz Marshall's Ghosts in Our Machine trades didacticism for first-person atmospherics.

A return to form for John Sayles.

Van Dormael's intriguing script is more than matched in his flamboyant direction of this 2-hour-plus tale, heroically edited by Matyas Veress and Susan Shipton into a fluid, generally understandable narrative.

This is an illuminating close-up on a vital cog in the moviemaking machine and a fresh perspective on key episodes in the birth of the New Hollywood.

The earnest doc offers enough spirit-lifting moments to prove its thesis and leave viewers inspired.