The documentary does not display artistic flair or innovation, but that is not its purpose. It is solid and straightforward in style, but extraordinary in its access and in how clearly her personality and philosophy emerge.

Along the way, parallels with key characters from the children's stories and their adventures are gestured at vaguely. But the film doesn't particularly require in-depth knowledge of Moominism and can be enjoyed for its bright performances, on-point costumes and sets, and empathic portrait of young love.

The performances are all fine, with Sawa and Stahl providing forceful presences. But Sullivan is particularly memorable, delivering the sort of galvanizing, physically and emotionally demanding turn that would be of the star-making variety if Hunter Hunter were to be seen by a wide audience.

A few flashes of amused chemistry between the two actors represent all the human interest in this unimaginative sci-fi actioner, but that doesn't mean the pic's relentless focus on giant-monster battles won't please the director's fans.

A cheerful spirit of open inquiry drives the documentary Queer Japan, in fact, which is tender, impressionistic rather than highly structured, and largely inexplicit — that amusingly candid vox pop notwithstanding.

Through the Night is both celebration and indictment. A sympathetic depiction of "women's work," in all its unsung dignity, it's also a quietly damning portrait of a merciless economy's effect on working-class mothers — particularly black women and Latinas, who often must work taking care of other people's children in order to feed their own.

There's still a lot to love. Gadot remains a charismatic presence who wields the lasso with authority, even tethering lightning bolts in some arresting moments. However, I missed the more hand-to-hand gladiatorial aspect of so many fight scenes in the first movie.

This film will not resolve the question of whether technological “progress” represents an advance or a decline in civilization, but it certainly will provoke conversations about that issue. And the focus on a real person over a period of years certainly adds pungency to the debate.

Even if Werewolf lacks bite as an allegorical horror thriller, it works pretty well as a psychological study of tender young minds struggling to relearn their humanity after years of brutal mistreatment by inhuman adults. The unschooled cast are unusually natural and convincing for child actors, and technical credits are generally superior.

Some may find this a path too well trodden by other movies, but what's refreshing is to see it through the eyes of a female protagonist for a change.

Essentially a two-hander though enlivened by incisive secondary character turns along the way, it's a drama made with tremendous feeling, an unhurried, contemplative tale peppered with nail-biting set-pieces.

As it is, the family pic's light tone never lets its themes of addiction, abandonment and poverty hit home, instead focusing on its hero's unlikely accomplishment and the brotherhood of sport.

A critique of post-millennial journalism is one of several ideas raised but mostly abandoned in this genre pastiche, which never really coalesces despite some promising elements.

Enjoyably over-the-top, well-played and in some passages an homage to those acid, preposterous Ealing comedies, Weasel Tale’s script cleverly pits two kinds of actors against one another — traditional movie star vs entrepreneurial whiz kid — to see who comes out on top, and the result is often sharp, funny and never dull, though it could have shed about 20 minutes.

In today’s saturated media environment, it’s heartening to be reminded that exposure to theater can be a lifeline for the kids who need it most. Giving Voice is the best kind of "feel-good" doc: one that organically moves you in a way you didn’t see coming.

There is really much to enjoy in this paradoxical but grippingly paced film.

The most problematic aspect of the film is that Hogan displays none of the cheeky charm and charisma that made him an international star. Although still obviously in great physical condition, he mainly walks through the film looking tired and pained, as if embarrassed to be taking part in such a labored self-reflexive exercise. On the other hand, you can't really blame him.

Despite the high-stakes drama, there's nary a compelling moment throughout, and some of the characterizations, especially Stormare's villainous Sanitation Department honcho, are so absurdly one-note that it's hard not to think that the film is meant as parody.

The light touch, the structural economy and lyrical voice that buoyed the gentle four-character piece on stage become cloying and strained in this clumsy expansion.

Shifting with grace and narrative equilibrium between the Arctic and a mission returning from Jupiter, this is a desolate elegy for a diseased planet and a prayer for the creation of life elsewhere in the universe. Flanked by a strong supporting cast, Clooney delivers a thoughtful reflection on the toll of environmental devastation.

Structurally, the documentary is a mess and I'm not convinced it quite lands on the story it wants to tell, but it's engaging and enraging nonetheless.

This thought-provoking drama is long but well-paced, full of incident but at the same time intimate — though shocking violence occurs just offscreen. Illuminated by deeply nuanced performances and characters to care about, it positions itself somewhere between the loving but messed-up families of Edward Yang and Ken Loach.

In the end, Baby God does little more than check one more name on a list of predators.

Intentionally provocative, artistically uncompromising and self-consciously polemical, La Leyenda Negra attempts to inform by incitement, challenging audiences to concede to an unvarnished view of migrant life in working-class Los Angeles.

Martha and Sadie may be imperfect, but they’re perfectly suited as best friends discovering how to value each other, and themselves, when adversity strikes. Perhaps the same could be said of Kotcheff and Leder, whose teamwork has convincingly converted the challenges of producing their first feature into a remarkably unique accomplishment.

It's short, sweet and effective, tying together the divergent threads of the decades-spanning Small Axe project on a note both poignant and personal.

Benefiting from copious amounts of home movies and old photographs (for all his air of mystery, White apparently was an obsessive chronicler of his own life), the filmmaker expertly leads the viewer through a complicated, time-shifting scenario that consistently upends our expectations.

The dialogue suffers from a strained, turgid quality, most resembling a daytime soap opera.