Perry combines a knock-out cast with an incisive script for a wild-eyed musical-drama with poignant themes.

Green Book is an on-the-nose social commentary that is told with such craftsmanship, earnestness, and comedic expertise that you’re still excited to go along for the ride.

One of the film’s successes is its ability to subvert expectations.

A stunning, often flooring masterwork about desperation, writer/director Tim Sutton’s, “Donnybrook” is a brutal elegy for those living on the forgotten fringes of America.

Every time Dolan generates a head of steam, he’s betrayed by his script, by the self-conscious formality of the dialogue, or the clunkiness of the structure.

It’s an uneven film, but a deeply passionate one that also features an A-list actress at the top of her game.

Does this film say anything liberals and conservatives didn’t already know? Probably not. It does offer a candid, civil, and up-close look at a man championing hard-right (some might say racist) ideals, which is more than viewers get from watching CNN-panel screaming matches and Fox News hagiographies.

Every character must negotiate their own boundaries while trying to hold on to what, and whom, they love, and the detailed portrait of that struggle saves the movie from its second half mistakes.

Hill’s basically remaking Larry Clark’s seminal 1995 film “Kids,” a picture inherently more authentic because it was a snapshot taken in that moment. And if you prefer the rose-colored lens of nostalgia, that’s been done too, in Jonathan Levine’s 2008 effort “The Wackness.”

Fogelman clearly gets a thrill in constructing a tapestry full of one random tragedy after another (seriously, almost nothing good seems to happen to these people long term). And he also appears to love manipulating the audience’s emotions with these subsequent tragedies.

Meant to appear as some kind of tribute to the victims and families of the Kursk, Vinterberg’s poorly strategized film barely justifies its existence.

As usual, Strickland’s latest is delirious, deeply delicious in sumptuous form and sly humor. It’s an oddball film, even for the unusual filmmaker.

Despite the melodramatic ending, you leave the theater wanting to root for the film and its characters.

Greta is one of those thrillers where you see almost every twist coming, but the actors are so into it that you still get sucked in.

It aims for simplicity, for a celebration of his unrivaled talents, and often fails to explore the complexity of the very man at its center.

High Life feels longer than it is, and is occasionally so squirrely that it becomes off-putting. But in spite of the aforementioned traceable connections, it’s a true original — sometimes strange, sometimes scary, sometimes kinky.

While its story is thin, its emotional undercurrent has a strong pull with poignantly topical notions of empathy, grief, and mercy.

Jenkins captures the humor, verve, and considerable complexity of the prose.

Ultimately, the chilly Sunset recreates a version of 1913 Budapest that crackles with life but lacks spirit and emotional connection. Nemes shows viewers the smoke and then the fire but provides no reason for them to care about the world as it burns.

Halloween is a love letter to the original picture and entertaining on its own terms. Thrilling, atmospheric, and brutally violent, Green delivers exactly what fans want from the series and then some.

Widows is definitely a good film and one that often has greatness in its grasp. But it often feels like, at some point in the process, McQueen needed to decide if he was making wallpaper or art.

An angry, provocative conversation starter designed to shake viewers loose of their political indifference and inspire them to take up the charge, the rousing picture deserves to sit at the table recognized as one of Moore’s best work.

By working in such a deliberately muted key, the emotional payoffs we’re conditioned to require from a story like this never quite arrive, and Van Groeningen never finds a workable substitute for them.

Demange, who earned glowing reviews for his debut “’71,” tries to guide all these plotlines and characters with a steady hand, but it often feels too unwieldy. There are simply too many storylines and threads competing with each other. The result is a movie that it feels like snippets of a life instead of a portrait of one.

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.

Insanely violent, packed with off-color jokes, and of course, sentimentality, “The Predator” is one of the most enjoyable popcorn flicks hitting multiplexes this fall season.

Assayas has often shown great wit in his screenplays (most recently in “Clouds of Sils Maria”), but there is a rhythm to his writing here that is surprisingly good.

There are nuggets of potential underneath, but they’re ultimately buried in a loud, monotonous experience that plays out like a bad haunted corn maze and you just want to cut through the cornstalks for a faster way out.

Beyond its aspects of romantic comedy, Sierra Burgess Is A Loser offers an authentic examination of identity in the confines of high school stereotypes.

Crudely put: it is distancing to hear people cry for help or speak anguished, halting truths from their hearts in a second language, and for all the bruising effectiveness of the filmmaking at times, it’s a distraction which 22 July never quite overcomes.

Wrapped up in Portman’s like-it-or-loathe-it-you-cannot-ignore-it performance (I love it, for the record) and Corbet’s astonishingly confident filmmaking chutzpah — all fast-motion montages, off-kilter framing, and bravura soundtrack collisions between Walker’s score and Sia/Celeste’s pop tracks — it somehow becomes a jagged, messy but endlessly intriguing whole.

Admirable and charming, yet uninspired and un-engaging, Anna and the Apocalypse doesn’t use its genre mash-up to subvert the respective clichés but more so brings the baggage of coming-of-age movie and zombie movie tropes with it.

Israel, as noted by her own writing, had a caustic wit that works with McCarthy’s comedic talents. She also brings a depth of emotion to Israel that comes to a head in a wonderfully composed scene with Grant at the end of the film.

Boy Erased has problems depicting the fear, intimidation and psychological trauma such programs can inflict on even the most willing of participants. But that’s likely because, at its core, the film isn’t really about the gay conversion experience.

When Kusuma, Kidman and Destroyer finally kick it into high gear it’s so, so worth the wait.

The film works best when at its simplest — two brilliant actors sparring with each other, Kingsley attempting to justify the horrific, Issac attempting to stay human and just while grappling with the embodiment of the Third Reich’s unfathomable legacy.

Shirkers is a film that should be experienced more than explained. That sounds like a cop out, but it’s an inspiring documentary about the process of filmmaking, the love of outsider art, but also a cautionary tale about trust and shadiness in the filmmaking world.

A movie about manhood, brotherhood and the unexpected bonds of fraternity, explored in all their brutality and twisted humor, The Sisters Brothers presents the cruel hostilities of the world, the innocence lost in the madness and the possibilities of a humanity still to be found scattered through the debris of American carnage.

Yes, Jackman’s impressive portrayal of Hart is at the center of “The Front Runner” (it’s one of the best performances of his career), but Reitman uses a large cast of characters to give depth to the events in question.

It’s a long, deliriously filmic, primal banshee-howl of macabre imagination that leaves us hormonal and drunk on delusion: the beautiful, thrilling, lurid lie of cinema.

While Leigh transports you back to 1819 through these rich characters, he simply tests the audience’s patience in getting to the heart of the story. There is an abundance of formal speeches and long monologues in the film, and they are often arduous and repetitive.

There’s been no shortage of study on Welles, but They’ll Love Me When I’m Dead offers a new understanding of the elusive, cunning filmmaker with a verve the man himself would have admired.

The various marvels of the movie aren’t just the sparks between Redford and Spacek or Waits’ dry humor but often, Lowery’s inspired direction.

Taken individually, there are cherishable moments and performances scattered throughout “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” like so many flecks of gold amid the silt. But as a whole, the film has to be chalked down to a perplexingly minor addition to one of the most beloved cinematic canons of our time.

The star that is truly born here is Cooper as a director.

Destination Wedding is bitter, bubbly and ultimately refreshing, the Aperol Spritz to your sickly sweet Amaretto Sour.

This is a subtle, slow burn of a film that refuses to bow to audience expectations in either its small moments or its overall arc.

It is almost impossible, however, to watch Other Side Of The Wind without taking its history into account. That makes the final product uniquely captivating.

You might not understand what the hell is happening in Let The Corpses Tan, but you’ll certainly never be bored.

This time the irony is of the tragic kind, and the stinging, wicked wit is tinctured with wholly new notes of tenderness.

This is personal filmmaking taken to such an extremely minute level that at times it can almost feel prurient, like we’re accidentally eavesdropping on things too private for our ears, like we’ve intercepted an embrace sent back through time and not really meant for us at all.

Steering an astonishingly accomplished path between the small steps and the giant leaps of the Apollo 11 mission, reigning Best Director Damien Chazelle opens the 75th Venice Film Festival with First Man, an immersive, immaculately crafted, often spectacular and satisfyingly old-fashioned epic that may well become the definitive moon-landing movie.

Like life itself, Hale County This Morning, This Evening doesn’t lend itself to immediate comprehension. It’s to Ross’ credit that his work remains so thoroughly accessible and engrossing regardless.

The potential of this movie’s premise might have been squandered by cliches, but McBride and DeWitt keep it watchable.

A rare film with a heart of gold and a fresh perspective on the lives of marginalized people, Support the Girls effortlessly but sincerely sways sympathies for the lives of those one would otherwise never consider.

The Oslo Diaries is at its most gripping – and its most devastating – in its coverage of how close to peace the two sides came but have still yet to reach.

By bringing in a strong screenwriter, hungry filmmakers with a vision, and a cast and crew who care deeply for the work... you get the recipe for a delightful and deranged modern-day exploitation film that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but somehow, asks you to take it more seriously than you might have otherwise.

Crime + Punishment isn’t without hope, but it anchors that hope to the unflattering realities of American policing.

A laughably bad film.

There’s emotional complexity, making it work for more than just its key demo.

The Ranger is a few degrees off of being great; its villain is way too confused and ill-plotted for the film to be anything other than periodically fun.

The world of the film is bracingly immediate and constantly overflowing—dubious sound design or a shift in image quality, while glaring, can’t puncture the holistic nightmare of Matti’s vision.

Aside from its phenomenal script and performances, Night Comes On delights with stunning visuals.

Anarchic and daring, Never Goin’ Back is a tale of adolescent female friendship that is somehow ballsier than your standard dude-driven buddy comedy. Frizzell’s film is as fearless as her heroines, and it refuses to judge them for their bad behavior.

Our House, doesn’t set its ambitions much higher than the VOD market, and its haunting is passable if not all that spooky.

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.

Hot Summer Nights is unconventionally amusing, spits in the face of its own flaws and somehow manages to impress by atmospherically rendering the emotions tied to the trappings of young adulthood. At it’s best, Hot Summer Nights is an admirable attempt at summertime antics void of a happy ending.

Age of Rage doesn’t ever chart any new ground. It settles with serving as yet another incendiary portrait of hate in this time of division.

Blisteringly caustic as ever, John Lydon nevertheless reveals himself as an occasionally sentimental sort in Tabbert Fiiller’s fitfully revelatory and charming documentary.

Unfortunately, the tendency of Voyeur to tilt towards comedy undermines the weight of its story.

The Third Murder functions well as a topical genre detour for the acclaimed director, but a degree of incongruity between the demands of the procedural formula and Kore-eda’s usual languid pacing keep the film from reaching the upper echelons of his greatest work.

Teen Titans Go! To the Movies is one of the biggest surprises at the movies this summer. In fact, it’s downright super.

By the time Jarecki is done with Elvis, the lanky, and projects-raised, rockabilly kid just one generation removed from sharecroppers has been cast as everything from an opportunist and grasping capitalist to addled addict to just plain sucker. If he ever was the King, the movie suggests, it’s long past time to retire the crown.

Izzy Gets the Fuck Across Town is a well-made showcase for its talented star. And while it doesn’t quite establish Papierniak’s directorial vision, it does hint at what that might be. It’s a fun hour-and-a-half, inessential but entertaining nonetheless.

Director Tim Wardle’s film is full of surprises, the least of which is its own dramatic shift in tone from wildly entertaining to absolutely disturbing.

This Is Congo has a point to prove and a righteous fury with which to prove it. But it’s focused and precise, which makes the sheer breadth of context required to understand it much easier to digest.

With suburban normalcy ultimately derailed by a suitably cynical, albeit humorous resolution, the final actions these neighbors take contribute to a far more meaningful message regarding the unsympathetic tendencies of humanity. Moreover, the measures taken by these feuding characters underlie the ruinous ways in which grief, hysteria and mental illness as a whole continue to be approached by society, especially by our own family members and neighbors.

Hill assembles a strong cast, and they are immensely watchable throughout the film, but it’s short on big laughs, never as compelling as it should be and lacking dramatic consistency.

This affectionate portrait avoids the major pitfall of comparable docs like Asif Kapadia‘s “Amy” or Kevin Macdonald‘s recent “Whitney” in that it steadfastly refuses to make Williams’ death the defining aspect of his life.

Fuqua’s movie, unqualified to create anything other than superficial poignancy, is empty, tiresome and uninteresting, satisfied with repeatedly communicating that if you exploit the innocent, harm the oppressed or abandon your code of conscience, Robert McCall will be there to set things right and severely punish you several times over.

This is not a good movie – but that doesn’t mean that it’s not a good time.

There’s nothing particularly special about Siberia, but with a winning Keanu Reeves performance, it maintains enough moment-to-moment suspense that it just might be enough to satisfy moviegoers yearning for a throwback genre film.

In a film lacking in nuance, Mozdah brings needed depth to her performance.

This horror film lacks the freshness of its predecessor, but its bleak view on humanity and technology, as well as some truly unsettling ideas and visuals, still set it apart from most of its fellow studio genre fare.

There’s a delirious joy in watching this much action, this well executed at every level.

Hollywood has been showing people hanging off of things for over 100 years, and if that’s something you enjoy, Skyscraper is the pinnacle of this trope, forcing The Rock to dangle, hang, and swing at insane heights above the street time and time again. This is the MO of the whole movie, taking things that have worked before and pumping them up to The Rock-sized spectacle; it’s not too original but it provides what it promises.

The First Purge— for all that it could have said about race and class in America— is perfectly content to provide the bare minimum and deliver some cheap thrills. And in doing so, the thrills come at the expense of the seemingly sharp points, now blunt, no longer cutting deep and drawing blood like they used to.

This is an assured, confident feature-directing debut for Zagar who shows great promise in his ability to render a confident and brilliant work of art from difficult-to-adapt source material. His film is a complicated coming-of-age tale that not only brings refreshing insights but gives us beautifully rendered images that have the power to haunt you for days.

It’s an inferior, often frustrating film, it’s hard to root for, and its consideration of its people of color is dubious, even as it features them as protagonists. But nonetheless, there’s some value, especially in is visceral qualities and the chilling nihilism of its violence.

Ant-Man & The Wasp somehow manages to organize laughs, action, theme, small MCU connections and even fairly touching ideas about family, responsibility and what it means to be a hero all housed inside of an undersized blockbuster.

Cardona’s brilliance emanates here. His performance is contingent on facial expressions and physical tics rather than words. His alluring face is juxtaposed by painful weariness, sullen eyes and a sense of humanity like no other.

By establishing little stakes and few moments of genuine connection between the main stars, it lacks the warm authenticity and the stranger-than-fiction reality of the real story, which will ultimately be weirder and more enticing than any narrative version of this story could ever be.

Unfortunately, while Set It Up sets up instances of subversion, it ultimately topples into a predictable mess of romantic noxiousness.

Brain On Fire is often effective, and at times positively enraging, but one can’t help but lament the much more disquieting film that might have resulted had the filmmakers been more willing to trust the facts of Cahalan’s case to speak for themselves instead of feeling a need to shove them into uplifting platitudes

It would have been a relief if, 14 years later, Incredibles 2 had simply met expectations. Instead, it exceeds them.