Warfare may sharply communicate what it’s like to be under fire, and those looking for bruising action will be exhilarated by the electricity it generates. But anyone asking for some complexity beyond these are the boys that answered the call to go to war will be left decidedly SOL.

The combination of compelling subject with an exciting and expert approach to documentary form achieves that transcendence you hope for in this genre: a melding of subject and text that is its own beast but also perfectly reflect each other.

On the one hand, director Silje Evensmo Jacobsen should be commended for adhering to the verité sensibilities of the project, as “Wilderness” never comes across as curated or guided. Yet this does keep the doc from probing into the more interesting questions and considerations that sit just under the surface here, such as the fundamental “why” of all of this.

Dìdi is the definition of a crowd pleaser. This is a movie that will fill your heart with joy, love, and nostalgia (even if you grew up before Paramore or the early days of Facebook). And for Sean Wang, it’s a film that proves he’s capable of crafting a beautiful, funny, and at times, heartbreaking drama.

At its heart, Welcome to Leith is about change and how toxic decisions and beliefs can irreparably ruin bystanders’ lives.

Poignant and poetic, After Yang is a soulful and heartbreaking meditation on impermanence full of poignant wonder and riches of human grace.

Argentina, 1985 doesn’t break new ground within the genre, but it’s a fascinating re-enactment of a major historical moment in Argentinian history. Anchored by a beautifully curmudgeon performance by Darín, Mitra’s film is understated, compelling, and ultimately an important rumination on the incremental way that justice is served.

Love, Antosha isn’t revelatory in its treatment of Yelchin’s life and career but it profoundly serves as a reminder of just how talented he was, and further reinforces the fact that he was just beginning to burgeon as a creative force.

Moore plays Gloria with a twinkle in her eye that makes her lovable and a yearning for connection that makes her relatable.

Though Monos feels very contemporary aesthetically, its subjects are timeless: the malleability of group dynamics and how subtle changes can lead to either violence or harmony. It’s a philosophical film with very few words, examining its ideas through powerful images and feelings.

Frammartino handles the collision between a vanishing then and the encroaching now with a light touch, mournful yet not quite damning.

Beautifully shot and edited, with incredible archival footage throughout, and compellingly scored, The Last Man On The Moon is, more than anything else, an engaging look back at one of the most exciting times in American history.

It’s part raw and ugly character study, part ensemble comedy, but it’s that first element that is so striking, bold and unnerving, while the latter element is sometimes amusing, but familiar.

Director Anne Fontaine’s film is based on actual events and grapples with thorny questions that plague even the most zealous during times of crisis. It’s a pity, then, that this picture finds Fontaine compelled to find a resolution in a situation that seldom yields easy answers.

A fascinating story told with deep insight, Little Hope Was Arson finds that both fire and forgiveness burn in different ways.

Junun is Paul Thomas Anderson at his most laid back. Not bothering with instructive context, the picture finds him absorbing the energy of the musicians through their instruments and personas. A scrappy film that never feels precious about itself or its subject matter.

Never afraid to show off its bloody fangs, yet careful to cut beyond the skin before its savage, stirring final strike, It Comes At Night is a remarkable, terror-filled invasion.

The most groundbreaking thing that Hyde and Brand pull off with “Leo Grande” isn’t merely an honest depiction of female sexuality — although that alone would have been enough to make their film a triumph. Rather, the duo goes further and observes an aging woman while she studiously unlearns her long-held beliefs and constraints.

Right up until the film’s very closing moments, in which the carefully maintained tension and tone snaps under the ratchet of one melodramatic turn too many, it is not just an absorbing performance piece, but a film of real directorial confidence and flair.

Pure power, John Wick: Chapter 4 is as exhilarating as it is exhausting. With this wildly satisfying world tour de force, Reeves’ Wick transcends icon status delivering the perfect bone-crunching crescendo to one of the great action franchises in cinema history. It’s pure gold.

The witchy atmosphere Jenkin conjures is spine-tinglingly devilish, the poetic manifestation of the subject’s deep grief, ever-ambiguous and frosty, taking on the aching melancholy of loss.

At its best, it does what Bourdain’s work did: “Roadrunner” makes you want to jump on a plane, discover a new place, a new culture, eat a great meal, and make a new friend. What could be more valuable?

Sarah Walker is great in an unself-conscious way, foggily conveying Star’s blinking on-off struggle to bridge the gap between her inner monologue and the outer world. She speaks in a thick voice that sounds effortful and takes in the world with watchful, silent eyes. It’s the rare performance that’s magnetic in its passivity.

High Flying Bird is often serious in how it deals with issues more substantial than just sports, but even beyond McCraney’s sharp, witty script, there’s a sense of joy here. The fun Soderbergh had making the film radiates off it, with this masterful movie that reminds the audience why we’re lucky one of the greatest living directors is still in the business.

As a film, The Humans provides serrated frights and big challenges for its actors, but ultimately, it is too cold and never believable enough to immerse one in its purported dread.

It’s truly a wild, blazing ride if you get on the movie’s bruising, mesmeric wavelength, a tragic but deeply moral film about a righteous, transactional man who has truly weighed and considered the cost of the wicked transgressions committed against his country, his fellow man, and his own soul.

Where In Between does succeed is in showing the relationship between the women and in refusing to judge them for their choices.

What Imbert has done here, some years down the line, may solidify The Summit of the Gods, a work of fiction, as one of the greatest Everest films ever made. If nothing else it’s the Everest film that respects the mountain best.