Although it is true that The Beast would greatly benefit from a gentle trimming in its first hour, it is easy to forgive the indulgence when the result is such a remarkable commentary on the looming threats of artificial intelligence and the dangers of glorified emotional numbness.

Around the two men, Heller creates a world that blurs the lines between every form of communication to serve the panoramic impact of her sensitive, almost magical design.

Blank knows exactly what narrative territory she’s in and uses the dramatic conflicts at bay to make a number of decidedly funny and oh, so painful points.

Compartment No.6 is at its best when it unveils the gap between its characters’ true identities and the parts that they choose to play.

Lucky is a film perfectly nuanced for Stanton but executed in its full potential by none other — it’s a sobering portrait dedicated to one of cinema’s greatest actors.

The tightly wound human drama increases to a boiling point that simmers all the way to the credits.

Ham on Rye is not obviously political, but it is also deeply political, pointing out, in lazy, absurdist, carelessly clever frames a​ deep-set​ American wrongness that was quietly murmuring away long before the current blowhard moment, and that will continue long after.

[A] raw and tender character study.

Strickland' command of tone, aided by Oscar-winning "Slumdog Millionaire" editor Chris Dickens and, of course, sonic wizards Joakim Sundstrom and Steve Haywood, is masterful, jarring and discombobulating the viewer as Gilderoy's mind unravels.

Ted Kotcheff’s film is essentially a workplace comedy, but the employees are braindead and wealthy, and the benefits are glory and groupies in equal amounts.

It seems like a statement that Il Futuro presents simple but intriguing conflicts that nonetheless resolve anti-climactically, denying us an organic end.

Melancholy in shape, but still hopeful, Crosby’s willingness to bare naked his personal struggles on-camera makes for a truly poignant movie.

Aquarela is truly a theatrical experience that benefits from the dark, distraction-free nature of the theater, in which the cycles of water, from frozen lakes to hurricanes, becomes an all-consuming force.

Guzmán's essential thesis seems to be that, in turning its back on the ocean, modern Chile lost a crucial part of its identity. But he also puts forward the extraordinary idea that the water has a memory, and that if you listen closely enough, you can hear the voices of the disappeared.

While bereft of the lurid pleasures that have propelled Saltburn to its ubiquitous social media popularity, Brief History Of A Family is nevertheless a smart and engaging debut feature, and preferable since it has something of value to communicate to audiences.

Other People’s Children is a moving rumination on the pains caused by the unbudging pillars of traditional parenting. It is a rare offering in its enlightened kindness, and a heartbreaking one, too.

At best a handful of transitory pleasures, Sils Maria threads through the peaks and valleys of weighty, interesting topics, but makes no lasting impression on them.

Even though Exhuma may exist as a wellspring threatening to drown in ideas possibly better suited for multiple films, Jang Jae-hyun has still managed to bring to life a compelling story about something that should remain dead.

An exceptionally well-executed and emotionally heart wrenching documentary.

Demon is a film that improves the longer it sits with you, as various images seep into your consciousness and reappear without warning.

With nothing but artful austerity to offer as a tether back to reality, The Ice Tower shatters.

Light from Light is a quiet and modest film with big subjects on its mind and it will reward those viewers with the patience to listen to the faint wavelengths at the end of the dial.

the driving force of this film is rooted in Blair’s wit, which sings to her resilience.

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.

The Box lacks the sort of ardor that made From Afar so memorable. Here, not all the major beats amount to substantial commentary on this relationship or the context. However, there are choices and plot elements that confirm the director’s narrative sagacity.

Colin West’s Linoleum is the kind of movie that’s all but impossible to review with any specificity, because so much of its achievement lies in its surprises – how it seems to be doing one thing while slyly doing another, without deception, and then revealing its ultimate intentions with grace and style.

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.

Smith brings a tone of melancholy to the closing stretches of “Devo,” acknowledging in some way that all revolutions fade and mass cultural subversion will only ever work up to a point. But there is also a lack of sentimentality or resume-burning here, which feels of a piece with the band’s spiky posture and protest mentality.