Portrait of Wally may be too narrowly focused for some viewers, but offers an engaging narrative and high-profile subject that should attract audiences at fests and in specialized theatrical bookings.

This deeply humanistic, profoundly touching work representing independent cinema at its finest should be seen by far wider audiences.

First Position overcomes its predictable elements thanks to the inherent visual drama of watching children strain their bodies to the limit in obsessive pursuit of their goals.

A niche theatrical run might draw fans of Goldthwait's previous work, this effort isn't likely to get as much help from critics as those sometimes did.

A delightful and uplifting study of kids and families by Japanese director Hirokazu Kore-eda.

Director David Mackenzie's film about two rival band members handcuffed to each other takes too long to find its footing.

The result, Chronicling a Crisis, is an admittedly harrowing exercise in solipsism that will be of little interest to anyone besides the director's diehard fans and perhaps his therapist.

An awkward mixture of melodrama and whimsical romantic comedy that should make the briefest of appearances in theaters before, like its main character, moving on to other planes. It might serve a valuable purpose if it at least prompts viewers to finally schedule those long delayed colonoscopies.

Following the template of documentaries bent on scaring viewers silly, Oasis winds up with a segment pointing to glimmers of hope, one of which addresses the marketing challenge of convincing citizens that recycled waste water is safe for drinking.

This debut feature by Anne Renton doesn't quite find the proper tone to convey its heartfelt message.

Even at its most predictable, the winning characterizations and soulful insights into aging keep the handsome film on a warmly satisfying track.

Beautifully put together in just about every way, it will be potent stuff on the small screen but deserves its moment in theaters.

Though Safe initially seems a little darker and more thoughtful than the British star's previous comic-book escapades in "Death Race," "The Expendables" or the "Transporter" trilogy, it ultimately reverts to testosterone-heavy formula.

Spectacular rain forest combat scenes are non-stop in an authentic-feeling actioner recounting an aborigine rebellion in 1930s Taiwan.

In this intense twist on the American Dream, director Andrew Dosunmu vividly captures the pulsating dynamic of New York city's pan-African community, a robust aggregation that subsists amid an often hostile foreign environment.

Now Batmanglij and Marling deliver another terrific and engrossing venture into speculative fiction, Sound of My Voice.

Twisty enough to please many arthouse patrons, though some will be rolling their eyes by the end.

More than the film that surrounds him, Jack Black is worth the price of admission in Bernie, an oddball May-December true life crime story that would have profited from being a whole lot darker and full-bodied than it is.

Aesthetically, it's desultory. Talking-heads rants and ruminations are further stultified by the amateurish aesthetics. Visually, zooms, pans and filler moments enervate the message. Most annoying, the dour music grates throughout; its hollow grinding, we'd guess, is an attempt to impart profundity.

Whedon and his cohorts have managed to stir all the personalities and ingredients together so that the resulting dish, however familiar, is irresistibly tasty again.

Nicholas Stoller and Jason Segel's latest collaboration offers a more relatable rom-com scenario while generating laughs that should still satisfy "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" fans.

While Downtown Express suffers from a derivative storyline, it offers enough musical authenticity to provide ample compensations.

Meryl Streep narrates a heartwarming documentary for an up close look at Arctic wildlife.

Subject matter this powerfully charged shouldn't feel like a study aid.

Serves as an amusing itinerary of dining, drinking and sexual dalliance that beguilingly plays with narrative time.

Embalming the simple and simplistic yarn in an amber glow that is all but suffocating and banishing from it any traces of humor and spontaneity, director Scott Hicks serves up this treacly tale with absolutely no trace of self-consciousness about the material's cliches or simple-mindedness.

Some privileged nature footage from the African rain forest is dishonored by deeply silly narration in Chimpanzee.

So bloated that it's forever on the verge of bursting – a sentiment reflected by the film's overindulgence in ear-splitting pyrotechnics.