For the acclaimed Chadian filmmaker, Lingui, his first foray into women-driven stories wobbles with underdevelopment but still manages to be a harrowing tale of bodily freedom.

‘71 is more than just a performance showcase, delivering a gripping, at times almost unbearably tense, incredibly involving anti-war statement, made the stronger for being set against the less cinematically familiar backdrop of Belfast in the year 1971.

It succeeds not just because of the gripping footage and troubling stories of the spectators and trainers close to the incidents, but also because it consults experts in the field who offer insights into killer whales’ biology and psychology.

Möller keeps a sense of immediacy and tension throughout, despite never actually showing the cause of Asger’s worry and dread – and our own.

Intimate, singular, and hallucinatory on all aesthetic levels, the film strips politics down to the bone, not always successful but never opportunistic.

"Prayers” stands as a continuation of [Huezo’s] brilliance and expands it to a storytelling format with distinct tools for engagement, yet the impact is just as searing. Huezo’s ardor for humanistic examination loses no fire in this metamorphosis.

The Only Living Pickpocket in New York might not be anything revolutionary, but it sure is revelatory. Segan laments a bygone bustling past, speaks to an uncertain present, and points to New York’s eternal beacon of hope to tease the promise of future renewal.

Molehills to the rich feel like mountains to the working class, and Gravel finds the stylistic tools that can translate such scale into riveting cinema — and confer the kind of importance that the Julies all over the world deserve.

It may seem like bias runs rampant, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, as Osit tries to answer his questions while looking behind the scenes in a manner that could if nothing else, showcase the obvious spin of mass media. In looking back at “To Catch a Predator,” Osit takes a look at much, much more.

If the immediate, textural pleasures of the film are such that you can almost miss the deftness of its construction, the skill with which Eggers balances out his ambivalent storytelling, while still ramping through ever-escalating climaxes, can’t be overstated.

Saint Frances is truly a stunning debut, both in its overt treatment of problems women face all the time, and its sheer unconventional approaches to, what on the surface looks like, a conventional narrative.

Through Cage, the film’s straightforward revenge plot becomes a King Crimson album played at half speed and twice normal volume; a bizarre and bloody outing with a strong heart beneath the surface.

It’s a journey deep into the psyche of the tormented genius, that is as all-encompassing and expressive of Cobain's spirit as a film could possibly be. It's a true achievement, both in documentary filmmaking, and in preserving the memory and legacy of Cobain.

Masterfully played by Annette Bening, Dorothea is a fascinating character of contradictions.

“La Camioneta” is at once an insightful documentary and a poignant allegory.

The Lego Movie is an absolute blast—a whip-smart, surprisingly emotional family film where the toy property is seen less as a concrete template than a tool for seemingly limitless potential.

Gloria is an endlessly watchable creation—a wonderful example of an actress melting into a role, and a co-writer/director with almost superhuman levels of sensitivity and empathy for his characters.

The Selfish Giant preaches compassion by showing us in its very closing moments, the fathomless goodness that can lie beneath even the spittingest, snarlingest exterior.

Steeped in a culture rarely observed on screen, Bustamante's film has the airs of a documentary. Its ensemble cast of local actors have zero trace of affectation in their performances.

When all’s said and done, Wobble Palace is trying so hard you can’t help but like it.

For what it is, the film is immaculately directed and staged with the quiet competence of a superlative filmmaker.

Akin’s film draws connections to suggest that maybe through these crossings, we begin to understand each other.

Framed by fearless and charismatic turns by newcomers Bahraminejad and Mana and beautifully shot by cinematographer Ali Ehsani, “The Friend’s House” is a remarkable depiction of life in contemporary Iran that will haunt you for weeks.

Political thriller, procedural, emotional drama and rousing cry for basic human rights and values.

As a documentary and a love story, Cutie and the Boxer is nothing short of breathtaking.

As a work of deep, committed research into real history, that provides a very handy four-way primer on the most famous Black men of their day and the conflicting approaches to Black resistence and liberation that each personified, One Night in Miami is an instructive and absorbing watch. But as a film with the potential to do more, push further and explore and maybe even in some ways explode those legacies in order to get at the men underneath them, it feels too timid, too talky, too conceptual in content for being so classical in form.

The Reason I Jump is a rewarding watch that attempts to give insight into the interior lives of those living with autism.

The film strikes a careful balance between the high school drama and the online realm but also explores how those two environments bleed into each other.

Jenkins has a vision and something interesting to say in Private Life, but it needs some serious editing to convey it succinctly.

The scope shrinks in the final third, as Morgen seemingly retreats into a more comfortable linear chronology — the last twenty years of his life blast past as quickly as his first — but whew, this is one helluva technicolor starship.

BlacKkKlansman has many virtues, but it is also a strange kind of messy, in which the performances from both Washington and Driver are so laid back as to feel curiously low-energy at times.

When was the last time someone who has so mastered the stage – Baker is a Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright, mind you – crafted a directorial feature debut of such artistic confidence? A film that feels a million miles from the confines of a sterile theatrical setting. A movie that is creatively propelled more by a filmmaker’s eye than the words composed by a screenwriter.

Though it lacks the near-spiritual dimension of the recent “In Front of Your Face” (Hong’s best in years), The Novelist’s Film is another focused, charming autofiction, well-structured yet open to the inspirations of serendipity.

Johannson turns out to be perfectly cast, being able to shift from blank alien mode to kittenish seduction without ever letting you see the switch being turned on or off.

If there is a big complaint to lodge against the film, at least for those with some foreknowledge of the team’s history, it’s too short. There’s so much great material and history to explore with the Soviet team that the film could easily have been a five-hour miniseries and would be even better.

Spielberg ever-so-gently presses on the gas of nostalgic idealism enough times that he blemishes what might have been a pitch-perfect movie.

This is a peculiarly beautiful film, with lingering sustain and the kind of hard-won optimism that feels truthful as well as hopeful.

The set-up in Free Solo can sometimes be repetitive, as the filmmakers continuously fawn over their subject’s accomplishments in the nerve-racking build-up to the main event. However, the absorbing lure of the movie, the climactic, terror-provoking Yosemite climb itself, is overwhelming and worth the wait.

This is a stunning piece of work and a triumphant fanfare for the arrival of a remarkable new talent.

This is rigorous filmmaking of the highest order, controlled and precise to the exclusion of anything extraneous —evidenced by its taut 100-minute runtime.

The exuberant life and liveliness that spills off the screen and the effortless sororal chemistry between these young actresses are compelling reasons to seek out Mustang.

Palm Springs adds meaning to the seeming meaninglessness of life, with infectious fun and introspective pleasure to boot.

Mond’s film doesn’t feature traditional structure or many familiar character beats of self-improvement, but as a visceral, in-the-moment portrait of struggle and suffering, it’s a striking first film.

It Follows worked like gangbusters as an exercise in atmosphere and allusion, but a little less so as an out-and-out supernatural horror, and only at certain times did it achieve a perfect synthesis of the two.

Rather than outlining a mere monolithic presence, it displays the multifaceted distinctions of Blackness. We witness and appreciate these works with the same reverence that Mitchell espouses. Is That Black Enough for You?!? is indeed more than enough, and makes you hope Mitchell gives us plenty more documentaries to come (and soon).

An honest and sharply drawn account of the eternal questions of ego, friendship, and sacrifice in the comedy world.

Although “Olli Mäki” ostensibly belongs to the boxing film genre as much as it is functions as a romantic drama, it never seems truly invested in the underdog narrative of its title character.

Lacorazza Samudio has pulled off a splendid feature directorial debut. Inspired by events in her own life and a sparse 90 minutes, the screenplay is layered but tight. The emotional beats are purposeful and not forced. There is a nuance and authenticity to the entire endeavor that is genuinely refreshing.

Court acquires its power through its thoughtful depiction of the mundane and the ordinary.

A very impressive film, one that can only increase the esteem in which both Knight and Hardy are held.

While the doc should prove essential for Nick Cave fans, it should be inspiring for those interested in the creative process or anyone searching for their muse.

People who hand-wring about movies being dead really need to check this one out. RRR proves that, yes, cinema is alive and well, but only if you’re willing, every now and again, to look past your backyard.

Rousing in spirit, surprisingly emotional and visually dynamic, filmmaker Ryan Coogler’s first studio movie, Creed, is a worthy successor to the best of the “Rocky” movies and proves the young director is the real deal.

Be prepared to be challenged by the glittering, allusive and often bewitching “Transit,” but also to be frustrated on discovering that even if you manage to piece it all together, in this particular crazy world the problems of three little people ultimately don’t amount to a hill of beans.

Dear Comrades!, from veteran Russian auteur Andrei Konchalovsky, is a fascinating blend of dark satire and bleak archaeology.

Biller explores female fantasy in the most diabolical of ways imaginable and gender politics are dissected with a brutal honesty that could infuriate some feminists with its observations.

These recollections might be captivating on paper, but they become somewhat monotonous and uninteresting on screen.

Its message is timeless. Its performances? Flawless. And if The Killing of Two Lovers can be described as anything more than a must-see film, it can best be defined as a cautionary tale dedicated to the fragility of the family structure in the United States, a showcase of a radically talented filmmaker and a dedication to the painful reality of love.

As with real life, there aren't any stock characters, clear morals, or easy solutions in These Birds Walk.

Ultimately, the main source of power behind The Second Mother is found in its effortless skips between character study, family drama, and silent socioeconomic warfare. The final result is a gleaming cinematic treasure as heartwarming as the film's final reassuring smile.

Hit Man finds both comedy and refuge in the elusive nature of identity and acts as a balm in our confusingly performative, deeply unsexy times.

As the pieces of Ghostlight continue to unfold, it becomes increasingly clear what a smart and moving narrative O’Sullivan has put together.

Afire is the uncompromising work of a master not only on conceptual and stylistic levels but also in terms of his emotional politics.

The intimacy that Herbert attains with the kids and the respect that she affords them prevents the film from ever seeming exploitative of their lives and hardships and rather gives it a thorough sense of empathy.

Beneath the film’s grunge and characteristically dingy aura, the daring Potrykus proves once again why he is one of the most promising young filmmakers and provocateurs around, as he wields weighty commentary, an extremely limited setting and a darkly comedic turn of events to his advantage. Relaxer is Potrykus’ most discomforting and unforgettable experience to date.

Twilight suggests the futility of trying to solve some labyrinthian plot and that, instead, one should train their lens away from the facts and onto the people affected.

Somewhat ironically, like the social unrest that underpins much of the footage featured in Riotsville, U.S.A., the documentary is well-intentioned yet hampered by a lack of direction, clearly defined goals, and the support of a larger, established apparatus to lend it legitimacy.

Intimate, soul-baring, and winning, The End Of The Tour is a special, lovely little gem.

Doubtless, due to Noé’s own real-world experiences, “Vortex” is a success, if a dolorous one: a dignified, sometimes desperate tribute to, as the dedication reads, “all those whose minds will decompose before their hearts.”

Acasa, My Home explores how bureaucracy sucks the life out of families, one by one, by turning them into 40-hour-a-week workhorses. It ruminates powerfully on the meaning of freedom, positing that our only chance at control may be a place far, far away from civilization, a place where the reeds sway gently and the fish are plenty.

Maiden simultaneously functions as a timeless ode to passion and a reflective account of a fascinating highpoint in the history of women’s involvement in the sports industry.

Brimming with emotional intelligence, the human texture Reeves delivers in Apes separates his film from the rest of the tentpole pack.

Stolevski aims for a life-affirming treatise on the poetics of human existence but strains to be more than a pretty copy of his well-known influences.

Short Term 12 is a roller coaster of every emotion, managing to be both heartwarming and heartrending at once.

Filled with fascinating yet long-forgotten anecdotes ... "Street Gang" ultimately focuses on the correct subject: the artists and educators who made "Sesame Street," and how much of its power and influence seems an outgrowth of the unique chemistry created by those specific people, at that specific moment.

Kim’s film is a compassionate piece on interpersonal connection that’ll touch your heart when it’s at its most vulnerable

One finds oneself hard-pressed to find a wasted frame here.

The rom-com is a rich and vital love story that breaks the mold with its visual acumen and bright spirit. “Rye Lane” doesn’t gesture toward an awkward cool; it’s an effortlessly cool picture that finds glee in the sights and sounds of these characters’ lush surroundings.

In the end, all the strangeness adds up towards something genuinely significant: an atypically rich and substantial comedy that's stuffed with great scenes and performances even before you start to chew on its bigger questions.

It’s a bit of a bumpy ride in “Rose of Nevada” as the abstractions of his technique bristle against the demands of the storytelling to balance various story elements (not to mention an ensemble cast).

If part of the great power of cinema is in being a visual medium that can somehow give form to the intangible, Esparza’s sophomore film is exemplary: it makes manifest such enormous, politicized intangibles as race, class and gender relations through the authentic portrayal of real lives, real people, vividly played.

The haunting atmosphere of The Girl with the Needle lies in equal measure with the acting masterclass that serves as the film’s primary source of fuel.

Gladstone manages to sell every emotion, moving from despair to wonder as the journey continues.

A thrilling, near-silent film that brilliantly toys with the audience’s nerves while deftly avoiding familiar cliches, Krasinski shows a surprisingly assured and suspenseful touch within the horror genre.

Loose, limber and driven by a fierce energy and staccato/pause rhythm we haven't seen previously from this filmmaker, Noah Baumbach's sublime Frances Ha is a fresh and vivacious near-reinvention of the director/writer's comedic milieu.

Poetic and bittersweet, Cmon Cmon is a special film, one that asks us to recognize the mistakes we make, the people we wound, the feelings we hurt, and to maybe give ourselves a break in the process and hold on for what better future tomorrow may bring.

The film isn’t a white knuckle ride, and the pacing can be slow at times, but this is one of those cases where that’s sort of the point, and you certainly don’t begrudge it. A Hijacking is an absorbing, highly moving film.

Ito’s presence propels the film; her passion, vulnerability, and resilient strength are the film’s most compelling components, as they should be, and it’s hoped that the closure she’s pursued finally found its way to her.

In this deliberately stunted teasing of information, Mielants builds a muted drama that cleverly harnesses horror tropes to paint a picture of what happens within the convent’s walls.

The proximity, orientation, and monumental nature is what makes Levitated Mass the piece so powerful, and Levitated Mass the film not only captures that but puts those ideals forth as something culturally and socially important, something that happened when the mass met the masses.

The genre maestro has his audience in good hands, “good” in this instance meaning both “skilled, capable, expert” and “decent, ethically sound.” He’s assembled a dazzling contraption that, if twisted in just the right way, pops open to reveal a nugget of wisdom crystallized by the cathartic final shot: we only really own what we earn.

The Spectacular Now is wise beyond its years, charismatic, measured and authentic in its depiction of the pains, confusions and insecurities of the teenage experience, and while its deliberate rhythm may prove to be a harder sell among the teen crowd, it’s a valuable and honest film that’s worth the investment.

At one point, she connects the beliefs of these conservative evangelicals with the post-colonial idealism of Brasilia’s builders, whose faith was “not in God but in the equally abstract ideas of progress and democracy.” That sense of inquiry and curiosity stops Apocalypse in the Tropics from veering into hyperbole without ever losing its harrowing urgency.

When it reveals its true colors late on, as less of an examination of a rarefied lifestyle and more of an ancient story of brotherhood broken and remade, the cumulative power of all those observed moments comes through.

Hold Me Tight is likely a film that rewards viewers with repeat viewings; it’s difficult to evaluate it on the basis of its decision to withhold crucial information until the end. It’s a risky choice, to be sure, and if it pays off, it mostly does so because of the power of its lead performance.

Apart from assured direction and strong performances, “A Stray” succeeds because even though it’s about a specific cultural group in the United States, it manages to depict universal, relatable truths about the plight of those newly arrived in the country.

Despite all of the film’s time jumps and questionable character motivations (and there are some), when it needs to, the filmmaking is completely ace.

There’s no action here, no real revenge to take, but there’s a meaty, idiosyncratic, and especially moving story about finding peace in loss.