Although the actors are a joy to watch (as always), honestly, Edith and Basil’s real-life story just isn’t that cinematic, and the film never makes their discovery feel like our own.

Especially after the film’s stunning conclusion, Athena is destined to leave jaws on the floor and heart rates significantly elevated long after the credits roll. This is the painful, perilous present tense written in the flash of a smartphone camera and the blaze of a Molotov cocktail.

Pulling off an ambitious mash-up of genres like Good Manners is no easy feat — that Dutra and Rojas pull it off so successfully suggests we’ll be hearing a lot more from them down the road.

It’s a meticulous and tightly coiled cautionary tale, but it’s hard to imagine any of its characters having life outside the narrow confines of its stagy plot, or the edges of its carefully composed frames.

In a film steeped in loss and grief, Leonor Will Never Die, as the title implies, is ultimately a beautiful, life-affirming celebration of the power of film and art to heal. Yes, even ‘80s action films.

It becomes pretty obvious early on that CODA is one of those movies where you know where the story is going pretty much the entire time, but the elements harmonize so beautifully it still sucks you in.

There may be romantic closure at the end of “Fire Island” but not a sense of finality, just a vision of endless possibilities—a horizon tinted by a sunset that stretches as far as the eye can see.

You wish the film had a slightly more queer eye behind the camera (yes, that’s a genuine thing, Andrew Ahn’s “Fire Island” is an excellent recent example). Even for a major studio production, it might have helped. But if everyone around you is laughing, maybe it doesn’t matter. It probably means another Bros gets made which, hey, wouldn’t be a bad thing at all.

If you’re down for a wild ride and a spectacle, this is a beautiful, confident, and big-hearted experience that is way better than it needs to be and more than does justice to the legacy of Dahl’s creation.

As outlandish as Timestalker is, Lowe’s film holds its idea together well with style, wit, resourceful imagination, great lovelorn music, the sincerity behind heartbreak and deep yearning, and hilarious, sharp laughs to boot.

While all the makings of a soul-wrenchingly impossible affair seem to be here, Ammonite sadly feels too distant, underpowered and colorless for its own good, as if somewhere down the line, its heart had died and hardened like a fossil waiting to be discovered.

As in “The Wolfpack,” Moselle doesn’t just capture the rebellions of her characters, she expresses their triumphs and joys with intimacy and detail.

It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley doesn’t do much of anything new with the documentary form, though still excavates plenty of interesting details within a familiar package.

Doueiri wrestles with the complexities of history and morality without ignoring the humanity of the individuals caught in this frightening maelstrom of a story.

Crafted with stillness, empathy, and clever drollness, “Fremont” is so striking it will simply and calmly demand your attention. So seemingly introverted, humble, and unassuming, it’ll force you to lean in, listen and heed all the humorous words of wisdom in its many little moments of providence.

The problem with Dosunmu’s follow-up to the more compelling “Mother Of George” is that there is so little story — and what story there is moves at such a snail’s pace — that all you have to look at are Young’s impressive compositions and then you wait…and then wait some more.

Straight Outta Compton, while often entertaining and dynamic, ultimately feels as if its meant to act as a kind of cinematic trophy to rest on a pedestal that celebrates not only N.W.A., but the successful and trailblazing members who helped define hip hop outside of the group.

Tale of Tales is magnificent, the way a performing bear can be magnificent.

While it’s nice to see Toni Colette and Chris Messina face off both in and out of the courtroom and Zoey Deutch gives a strong dramatic performance as Ally, even the best acting can’t make Juror #2 make sense.

Captain Fantastic uses bleak but gentle comedy to pinpoint the variety of ways we wrestle with grief, but the film undermines Mortensen's performance and its own thematic ambitions by presenting the character as little more than an idealized fantasy figure.

It’s hard not to fall a little in love with Alex and Maggie as they let down their guard and open up about their college experiences. It’s also hard not to wonder if these characters – especially Maggie – are genuinely deserving of the ending the film has to offer.

You may hate All The Money In The World, and you would be well within your rights to feel that way, but there’s no denying that the film is bold and ballsy.

One Week And A Day is at times a genuinely funny diversion amongst the Critic’s Week selection. However, a sentimental streak and a series of precocious narrative turns diminish the impact of the film.

"Nanny" feels less like a misfire than a missed opportunity. Those early scenes are so tightly wound and so beautifully played that by the time Jusu trots out the blood and knives and bathtubs, I wasn’t even sure what movie I was watching anymore.

An illuminating and often hilarious portrayal of the man and his myth, and those who surrounded him.

Foster tackles this material in the high-velocity fashion common to many stranger-than-fiction documentaries about people gleefully living outside the law. There is a lot for him to work with, one vivid and outlandish anecdote spilling into another.

Friendship is awe-inspiringly twisted by the end, a jaw-droppingly comical tale of tragedy, even. But it is masterfully rendered; the rare movie seemingly built from a sketch series turned into a genuinely riotously amusing and f*cked movie that still has the sense to comment on the dark and totally warped corners of the human condition.

Union County offers something better than the Hollywood ending. It’s honest. It’s helpful. Perhaps, it’s even hopeful for those willing to sit with the uncomfortable reality of the condition, as Meeks and Poulter have. A transient victory is a triumph all the same.

Where it surprises is in Bell’s fantastic performance and the fact it eventually stops becoming a laugh out loud comedy. It soon dives into much more of a heartwarming drama with a few random jokes thrown in.

It’s a film that’s endured more than enjoyed, even with Du Welz’s oily black sense of humor and his skill for skipping between genres.

There’s no denying that Fennell is playing with dynamite here, and knows it; the brashness of her approach and style is welcome, and her work is often riotously funny (especially when edging into darker territory).

As the focused film delicately yet decisively establishes, a job is still just a job and can take more from you than you may realize going into it, leaving you to one day look around to discover there is no ground beneath your feet.

Love, Simon is filled with details and specificity, making Simon’s story feel real and authentic in each moment, from the music he listens to to the costumes seen at a Halloween party, elevating it above what could have been the after school special version of the same story.

Potash marks time by the year until the last 30 minutes of the film, when the clock intertitles speed up with the many advancements in her situation, building to a breathless finish that will leave the viewer emotionally crushed and yet also hopeful and joyous.

For fans of Ashby, or even just lovers of good cinema, Hal serves as a wonderful examination of a masterful director who had a lasting influence on generations of cinephiles. Had Scott dug a bit deeper, though, she might have stumbled across something as profound as the filmmaker she supposes to glorify.

M3GAN locates the horror and hilarity lurking barely beneath the surface of our screen-addled society.

The movie does not stint on Belushi’s destructive, self-sabotaging, and cruel habits.

It’s simultaneously incredibly pleasurable and quite disturbing, owing to its chilling elements and commentary on larger issues.

Even when it’s in the shadow of other movies that have traversed this territory to greater effect, the talented young performers at hand bring a rooted sense of reality that still makes it sing with rhapsodic gravitas.

Bong succinctly riffs on old Hollywood to maintain his legacy of class-conscious films that challenge the status quo appealingly and refreshingly.

Inventive and original ... Juggling dark, situational comedy with genuine thrills is awkward, but “Blow the Man Down” manages to walk that tone well.

As an austere and darkly comic family drama, and a scathing commentary about the kind of world our children are living in, Happy End is stunning cinema

For the most part, Kahn’s latest effort is a tenderly observed portrait of the transformative power of religion, even if it occasionally fails to convince.

In the overstuffed indie coming-of-age subgenre, Sophie Jones makes an unassuming, honest contribution. Which is exactly what it needed to do to stand out among the endless pomp and quirk.

The cinematic equivalent of a bath bomb, this fizzy feature is sure to delight — at least until the charm fades. So unfurl your towel, dust off your bathing suit, and soak up that warmth.

Bone Tomahawk is a proper Western, a proper horror movie, and by combining the two, becomes something else entirely, and proves hugely enjoyable for it.

Saleh’s film works on many different levels because it’s a layered blend of various elements from different genres. He has crafted a spy thriller that succeeds as a coming-of-age narrative and can also be an entertaining film that keeps you captivated up until the final breathtaking moments.

Laura Poitras has done it again. Much like the celebrated Edward Snowden documentary Citizenfour, “Risk” is instilled with a sense of immediate urgency as an apprehensive cloud hovers over every action, every word, every wayward glance.

The focus is spread too thinly on the various colorful local voices, all of whom openly campaign against Recchia’s intentions with zest and flavor.

Although AM I OK? follows a well-worn formula, it finds transcendence in Johnson and Mizuno’s authentic, intertwined performances and Pomerantz’s deeply personal, heartwarming screenplay.

Serves as little more than an exercise in striking photography mixed with a series of vignettes that’s as slice of life as one’s likely to find.

While 7 Days occasionally goes too broad in juxtaposing Ravi and Rita, sometimes pitting them as ideological binaries instead of fully realized characters capable of vacillating in ideas, the film more often than not allows them to develop and shift as they get to know each other.

All thanks to Herzog’s keen eye at having a continuous fluid flow to the story and his subject’s willingness to lay bare in front of an audience, this is one of the most important documentaries of the year because it still feels fresh and relevant to our times.

Nine Days is the sort of original cinematic art that, these days, is few and far between.

There is beauty here, and exquisite craft in both the pictures and the minutely designed soundscape, and there are some truly chewy ideas thrown up about the porosity of the boundary between public and private that would have lent terrific, atmospheric texture to a film... But there is little connection to the characters.

This is often an insightful film, but it’s full of delights for journalism, history, and political junkies alike. It doesn’t fully answer the challenging problem of where the line between the two needs to be, but at least it’s asking the right question.

Infinity Pool is the kind of film that reminds you that sometimes, the best thing a filmmaker can do is take you to places you would never dream of heading without apologizing for any of it.

The Outrun begins and ends with Ronan. There are very few moments in the movie where she isn’t on screen, and to say she’s up for the challenge is an understatement. It’s a very strong performance and, somewhat impressively, not as showy as you might expect given the material.

Yes, the idea is unique. But they aren't quite ready to shake off what has worked for them for years -- namely making girls want to be special and popular, and boys strong and heroic.

If not for Sareum’s charismatic performance the film might fold like a house of cards.

The film, then, is a useful primer for historicizing and contextualizing the relationship between methods of social control and the rise of policing, both as an unchecked institution and a term associated with the history of the United States. One just wishes the film would slow down every once in a while.

ParaNorman is a micro-sized masterpiece that wears its heart (and its half-eaten brains) on its sleeve.

Luce is a dangerous minefield and simply crackles with the kind of distressing pressure that is beginning to define America in every conversation we have about race, marginalization, social strata, woke politics and even marriage.

Mordaunt’s eye indicates a thoughtful filmmaker able to listen to the winds of what a movie needs. Effortlessly natural, his workmanlike craft carries the capacity to keep an ear open to happenstance.

The documentary, like its subject, is unapologetically dazzling.

What it lacks in cinematic girth, it makes up for in factual appeal.

Through its fine performances, considerate direction and character-focused writing, Only the Brave goes above your average biopic to present something that’s poignant and endearingly familiar, letting Kosinski provide that hard-wrought emotional impact lost in his previous films, while still allowing him to showcase his talents for visuals and location.

For those willing to spend ninety-plus minutes with Herzog as he riffs on the wonders of space, “Fireball” is a heartfelt tribute to scientific exploration.

You can argue that Mister Organ is a movie about Ferrier’s folly, though that would be most unkind. The better argument is that Mister Organ is a movie about hubris as the Achilles’ heel of all men like Organ, and yes, about the perils of sticking your nose where you oughtn’t.

Betting on Zero takes a matter-of-fact approach to its material, but it makes a convincing and sometimes emotional argument against Herbalife.

While the stakes are high, the spirit of Days Of The Whale is endearingly loose-limbed, in many ways recalling the similarly sun-kissed energy of Adam Leon’s “Gimme The Loot.”

Identifying the method behind the Coens’ madness takes some work, as the film moves at such a rat-a-tat-tat screwball speed that following along often feels like clinging for dear life to the side of a speeding train.

The Painted Bird is the kind of exploitative cinema that thinks drowning its viewers in increasingly drastic scenes of torture and brutality is inherently righteous. “Look at our terrible history!” “The Painted Bird” screams, but the film’s unrelenting onslaught of revolting ghastliness makes each chapter less impactful than the last.

Laurent’s portrait of women pushed to the edge of society, exploited, and tortured for the sake of progress is uncompromising and fearless.

Somber, depressing, and ultimately a must-watch, “Four Hours” moves through that fateful day with precise clarity – toggling between the lawmakers and those within the mob as the situation grew increasingly dire.

Crafted as a kaleidoscope of color and nightclub sparkle, The Lure's glitter does not distract from the fact that this is a technically confident and often quite accomplished piece of filmmaking, with a rare ability to dance intuitively between linear plotting and phantasmagoric fantasy.

With its rock doc trappings, it’s impossible to ignore that Mistaken For Strangers delivers on that front, with thrilling and candid on-stage footage that allows the band’s music to come alive: if you weren’t a fan before, you will be after the film.

Is Christine voyeuristic, or even exploitative? Very possibly. But it’s also vivid, intense, and artful.

It’s the kind of movie you sit on, but then can’t wait to revisit. Suburban Birds is a rewarding and revelatory first feature from a fresh artistic voice.

As a film, Saturday Church could so much more, and its disheartening shyness keeps it from achieving greatness. A few choir boys short of a hallelujah, Saturday Church feels more like a subdued sermon.

Star Trek Into Darkness is a long, long way from a disaster, but it's hard not to feel that Abrams' mystery box turned out to be a bit empty this time out.

The good certainly outweighs the uneven. Dope is both intelligent and crowd-pleasing.

Queer feels unsettled and inconsistent—but never anything less than fascinating to watch unfold.

Although the documentary excels at giving us a better picture of the women who are inspiring folks around the world to voice support for them, Lerner and Pozdorovkin leave many other details unexplored.

Bugonia might be as blissfully bonkers as the era of its release, yet don’t let that distract from what a masterclass in directorial control the film represents for Yorgos Lanthimos.

The film contains some memorable moments, and a pair of fine performances, but it’s hard not to feel that it would have proved more successful if it had stayed on the path it was heading down for the first forty minutes or so.

Author: The JT Leroy Story, a documentary from Jeff Feuerzeig,is as truthful as it gets. Yet its content is so wildly absurd, that it plays like a work of fiction.

Possessor is a bloody existential fever dream that, at its best, is unnerving and thrilling, and, at its worst, is tiring and misbegotten.

The African Desperate is the work of an artist who has moved fairly seamlessly from the gallery to the cinema and has more than enough vitality and insight to join the canon of films about the Black experience in higher education

Overall, Cummings and McCabe’s film touches a raw nerve with sharp, funny, awkwardly prickly provocation.

For Driver’s movie, Basquiat is a ghostly presence, popping up in snapshots or scraps of footage.

Rather than use his trademark raw style to expose and eviscerate social injustice, here Escalante puts it in service of a kind of cautionary fable about both the healing power of sex and the harming power of sexual hypocrisy, and he uses a tentacled alien to do it.

The film is undeniably entertaining, it’s fun to see these characters and creators again, and hey, who am I to begrudge them a victory lap? But ultimately, the contrast between the epilogue film and the source material is undeniable.

DaCosta’s continuation of the “Candyman” saga becoming not only fascinating but terrifying in how even the events of the first time are craftily repurposed depending on who’s mentioning the story and why.

Only a filmmaker as talented as Alex Ross Perry could make a movie as misbegotten as Golden Exits.

First Position is a simple, but effective portrait of ambition and determination in an art form where the stakes are high and the rewards are few.

No matter how silly or severe the movie may get, Daley and Goldstein always approach the material on its merits. This is a fantasy adventure from people who seem to enjoy fantasy adventures without equivocation.

Fans of high octane, fast-paced martial arts action might be bored with the deliberately calculating style of The Final Master, but those who look for a more patient and meditative experience within the genre will get more than their money’s worth.