Some of Novak’s camera sense, particularly early on, betrays his sitcom roots, and he commits the classic rookie mistake of going on three or so scenes too long, tying up inconsequential loose ends. But he crafts a good mystery, consistently engaging and entertaining, and the thoughtful turns of the last confrontation are sly, smart, and knowing.

While it is great that the documentary gives their commitment to direct action proper respect, it sometimes downplays exactly how important the work of activists who got abortion legalized in states like New York, or who got Roe through the court system was. Where it does succeed well is in showing the socio-economic disparity in access to safe abortions, which cost roughly 5 times as much as a month of rent.

Like a Spider-Man pointing meme doomed to continue eternally, ‘Dominion’ points to the terrifying possibility that nostalgia might serve as a renewable resource for Hollywood. (Ironic, given the fossil-fueled power of ‘Jurassic.’) Trevorrow gives audiences what they want – or, at the very least, what the studio bosses at Universal think they want. But at what cost?

Interceptor is about putting on a show, and Pataky has the muscular charisma to carry it.

There’s enough craft and heart involved in “Hustle” to keep it from feeling like just a league PSA or an algorithmically crafted Netflix product. Those elements go a long way, but solid execution can only take a well-worn playbook so far.

Dashcam delivers a relentless, evolving monster movie that utilizes familiar genre tropes from various influences, including “REC,” “Chronicle,” and “Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones.” However, it brings enough to the table that doesn’t feel familiar to make it work effectively.

The film’s very long takes feel extremely rich with meaning and texture even as they often show a whole lot of nothing.

At its best, a welcome addition to the increasing number of contemporary Native American stories seen in the films such as “Songs My Brother Told Me,” “Wild Indian” and FX’s “Reservation Dogs.” At worst, it’s a disjointed narrative that sadly overstays its welcome.

It is a moving healing journey, but one that feels almost too smooth, a best-case scenario with few bumps in the road and, more significantly, very few surprises.

While the entire cast is superb, it’s the rich performances from Watson and Mescal who elevate the material beyond that aforementioned air of familiarity.

'Trouble in Mind' barely feels like a movie at all. ... Absent any contemporary reflections by either the subject or outside observers, we’re left with no real idea how anyone feels about Jerry Lee Lewis and his exploits on either side of the camera.

A consistently funny yet narratively undercooked coming-of-age story.

The filmmaker’s tart and scabrously funny (both literally and figuratively) sophomore feature is a pointed portrait of a toxic relationship and a razor-sharp evisceration of those warped by a victim mentality.

While More Than Ever spends much of its time concerned with Hélène’s way of dealing with her illness, the film is a love story at heart.

The Five Devils feels like the inevitable encounter of indestructible drives, which send sparks flying both when they are satisfied and when they are denied.

Like the discreet, uncluttered canvass of her works— minimalist, spare, and with just enough inviting details to inspire your curiosity—Reichardt leaves generous space and room for the viewer to contemplate. And I would argue the captivating and delicately considered Showing Up leaves much to consider about why we make art and what we’re trying to say while making it.

Dhont, who displayed an impressive artistic vision with his feature and slightly problematic debut “Girl,” has pulled off something miraculous with his sophomore effort.

Absorbing and heartwarming, it’s easy to forget that this tender drama is about human trafficking.

Despite its nearly three-hour runtime, it never overstays its welcome and plays out beautifully, maintaining a gripping tone and complex narrative about an ordinary family that doesn’t fall into cliches or repetition. Roustaee’s filmmaking is subtle yet leaves a lasting impression, solidifying him as one to watch.

The film ends on a slightly too simplistic, almost crass note regarding that point, but it cannot take away from its overall highly sensitive and formally rigorous exploration of nostalgia and of the other, different relationships people can afford to have with their past.

It is this direct line to the characters that keeps the film relatively interesting, even as it does become rather exhausting to watch these very kooky and carefree young people gallivanting about.

There may be romantic closure at the end of “Fire Island” but not a sense of finality, just a vision of endless possibilities—a horizon tinted by a sunset that stretches as far as the eye can see.

Tori and Lokita puts its characters through hell to elicit some tears and send an urgent message. You may consider this an empathetic film — exploitative might be the better word.

"Look at Me” provides a fascinating overview of Onfroy’s meteoric rise in the music industry, while also broadly touching on the various legal issues, including appalling allegations of abuse, that dogged his career.

As a straight-forward thriller, Holy Spider checks off all the boxes that make it an intriguing watch: it maintains a tense tone and has a gripping plot, it transforms into a courtroom drama halfway into its run, and features gritty and stylish visuals.

When you’re this good, the weakest entry in your filmography can still be largely inoffensive, far from fiasco territory. Even so, there’s only one person doing it like Claire Denis, and now we must wait even longer to be taken once more to the heights of insight, emotion, and style only she can reach.

Luhrmann sees the chief utility of Elvis (or “Booby,” as his loved ones called him) as a pedestal for his everything-all-the-time maximalism, the King of Rock and Roll’s taste for excess in harmony with the Aussie auteur’s desire to shove shock-and-awe cinematic effect down his viewers’ throats until we choke to death on whip zooms.

Eo is a joyful, experimental, and strangely moving piece of filmmaking that doesn’t always take itself seriously—yet it is nothing if not sincere.