Ultimately, Miss Juneteenth is a reminder that dreams don’t have to die.

In an era marked by omnipresent terror and universal doom, 7500 sparks fear and soothes anxiety in the same breath. Although the film utilizes violence as its foundation, 7500 promotes the idea that heroes exist everywhere, proving that, even amid turbulent opposition, survival, and endurance are sometimes the bravest acts people can ever accomplish.

Bully. Coward. Victim. The Story of Roy Cohn isn’t really about justice, per se, but about peeling back the layers on the man.

Holland’s focused effort doesn’t let us forget the respect we owe to the writers behind the headlines and stories we idly click through that often come to us through great personal and spiritual risk.

From top to bottom, The Last Days of American Crime is a lumbering referential malfunction. Nothing about it works; everything about it is offensive.

It may amount to less than a hill of beans, but Hill of Freedom is an amiable way to spend 66 minutes learning how even cultures that seem closely related to Western eyes, like those of Japan and Korea, can clash. And also how cultures like these, that seem so far from our own, can be trumped, by love, longing, friendship, sex and drunkenness, the same universal experiences we all share.

Though the visuals are a huge draw, having a variety of actors with palpable chemistry brings Sometimes Always Never to life.

While not perfect, nothing worthwhile ever is, Da 5 Bloods sees Lee exploring brotherhood, PTSD, greed, and how lost legacies and voices have led to present protests for a deceptively rousing war drama.

You Don’t Nomi cuts through the excessive nudity and stylized hyper sex of “Showgirls” to reveal the heart hidden behind the grime, relishing in the entrancing panache that has fascinated and charmed viewers for years.

But what’s especially dispiriting, this time around, is that the film promises more. It opens with a remarkable pre-title sequence of Davidson on the highway, driving with a stern face, and listening to the radio; we’re joining him in the middle of something, and we’re not sure what. And then he closes his eyes and steps on the gas, a move of suicidal recklessness that nearly gets him (and several other drivers) killed, after which he stammers, to no one in particular, several consecutive “I’m sorry’s.” It’s not clear why this opening exists, in the context of ‘Staten Island,’ because it’s not comedic, and it’s not feel-good.

Imperfections cannot steal away the ambitious underpinnings of Hersh’s intentions for “The Surrogate,” a down-to-earth analysis of the ever-precarious, self-serving human condition; an examination that speaks volumes despite its reserved demeanor.

Ultimately, Judy & Punch doesn’t hit squarely in the target, but hints at interesting conversations on prejudice, domestic abuse, and powerful individuals lacking integrity. As one watches, and ponders whether to laugh or gasp from one scene to the next, some of these inquiries do emerge strongly from its convoluted haze.

Adalsteins demonstrates a mastery of restraint, a rare ability to hold back emotions so that when they come, they pour forth like a broken dam.

While the focus of any work about sexual violence should be on the survivors rather than the reporters, the directors could have made their case even more airtight with a little more transparency into their own subjective positions.

The pleasures found in The High Note are many and often minor; Ganatra builds the film on casual chemistry between Johnson and Ross, with Harrison Jr., fresh off of his 2019 one-two punch of “Luce” and “Waves,” popping up as Johnson’s alternative foil.

Fourteen generates important insights on time, mental illness, and relationships, proving, through a tableau of exquisitely staged moments, that friendships deepen over time no matter the circumstance.

Given his story’s curlicues and lack of overt judgment, Ree does not appear to be interested in a clear morality story about forgiveness or opposites coming together. However, The Painter and the Thief does leave room for a kind of redemption at its conclusion.

Multinational Alma (Sara Luna Zorić, excellent) is at the edge of womanhood, gazing into a fractured world that reflects — what else? — a fractured self. Displacement gives rise to the unhomely, the uncanny. Ena Sendijarević’s playful, delightful Take Me Somewhere Nice frames and articulates this spatial and psychological confusion, offering emotional distance against sharp material proximity.

What there is, however, is Nasibullina and she makes you root for Velya despite all the character’s faults

By seesawing between tired performances and hellish visuals, Vitthal never delivers on the rage his premise initially promises.

Even if this rom-com never completely coalesces, Showalter’s The Lovebirds does ultimately deliver a worthwhile conclusion

While it nods to everything from ‘The Twilight Zone’ to ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind,’ Patterson’s movie is more a tribute to the romance of a breeze-whispered sprawling night and the shivery thrill of not knowing what nameless threats it hides.

As Odysseus returned home after his troubled journey to find yet more strife, Coogan and Brydon go back to their familiar schtick—long drives and touristy rambles punctuated by expensively minimalist dinners, all of it borne on a tide of joshing, snarky banter—only to discover more discomfort.

The Wrong Missy is one of those movies that takes a brain-dead sitcom scenario to the outer limits of what an audience is willing to tolerate.

This blistering film about addiction doesn’t judge the abusers, instead offering an intimate view into a world of hurting people lost in a maze of peer pressure, letting us see how a nice guy like Henry can turn to hard drugs.

Capone is little more than a collection of tangents and diversions that never coheres into any kind of compelling narrative. The only real propulsion the film sustains is the sheer force of Hardy’s performance as his character further loses control of his mind and bowels.

For its few flaws, Sweetness in the Belly hits plenty of the right notes, featuring a breadth of insight possible only when a filmmaker truly knows the place the story is set.

Fun acting, playful imagery, and a catalog of great ‘80s songs should be the winning recipe for a delightful musical. Alas, the Valley Girl remake doesn’t have the musical chops to separate itself from being compared to an overly long episode of “Glee” and definitely doesn’t bring anything new to the film world that will influence movies for years to come, as the original did four decades ago.