Arkansas is, for long stretches, laid back. Despite its cartoonish performances, the tone is defiantly low key, with little of the vigor you expect from something inspired by Tarantino.

Genre buffs are probably more interested in witch’s kidnapping children than Ben’s family divorce. But the Pierce’s deliver on both fronts, so much so that you may never walk into a basement again.

With his arresting debut, Balagov seems to be on the cusp of greatness, all the more effective for the way he draws upon his personal history to craft unforgettable images.

This Netflix film works overtime trying to be flashy without bothering to create characters worth rooting for, and its long run time won’t do bored parents any favors.

It is, in essence, a two-hour curtain call, a celebration of not only their music but their friendship, and a chance for the duo to have the last word on their legacy.

Barker takes his initially enthralling documentary and dilutes the story with this new feature, creating melodramatic lightness without an affectingly heavy touch due to the tepid tone and wheezing tempo. In short, it snoozes.

Bolstered by revelatory performances from its leads, and a timely thematic foundation appropriate to its place and moment, Twin Flower (Italian: “Fiore Gemello”) tells a story that’s as nuanced as it is profound.

Its leads deliver, individually and especially together, and Teems somehow manages to sound a note of reserved hope at the picture’s conclusion, without sacrificing the inherent nihilism of the genre.

The charisma from the leads and the ridiculousness of the story do mask a lot of the shortcomings.

In a world where the clouds are puffy, the script is fluffy and the funk is funky, it’s easy to stomach all the glitter a second time around. If you do decide to rent this via VOD, now that DreamWorks Animation has broken the theatrical window, you will likely be in harmony with kaleidoscopic visuals, not to mention a bunch of greatest hits the whole family can enjoy.

There’s little egregiously terrible about The Lost Husband, but a lot of the film is less than memorable. The relaxed, casual vibe is often at odds with the amount of sorrow that has seemingly crippled these characters. Yet, it’s the type of film that you already know the ending before the first scene is over.

Emphasizing Selah’s discovery that cliques are kinda dumb and that her actions have consequences, Selah and the Spades loses momentum, despite a witty framing device that places characters as tiny figures in the school’s vast, empty rooms.

Sinha’s debut may not be destined to be the next American indie classic, but it’s a powerful debut film with a stirring perspective on criminality and immigration.

The initial draw of Sea Fever might be as a monster movie, but this is a profoundly humane and humanist film whose ideas stays with you longer than the nightmares.

The meaningful topics of female sexual expression, repression, and desire for acceptance that “To the Stars” portrays are relevant, but it’s a shame they’re not more poignant and persuasive.

Even the most egregious issues of the film are quickly forgiven when Marks and Liberto are on the screen. Prepare to be delighted by their interactions and relationship, transporting you back to the times you would needlessly drive long distances on impromptu adventures just to spend time with your best friend.

Crip Camp indulges a fair number of documentary clichés: the talking heads, the emotional reunion, and the inspirational montage, to name a few. But it’s hard to feel bothered with a film that tells an urgent, overlooked story so compassionately and clearly.

Hampered by a character growth problem, tonal inconsistencies, shoddy mime work, and a collective French accent trainwreck, the film fumbles the few opportunities it does have at something better.

Emotionally and psychologically, The Ghost Of Peter Sellers, is an A-grade film. Aesthetically, however, it’s a little flat, and kind of takes too long to truly reveal itself even at a scant 93 minutes. Still, it’s ultimately an emotionally cathartic and absorbing movie about a man who can’t let go, yet wants to be free.

The superhero film equivalent of the worst kid at the playground.

Chalk this Team WahlBerg’s latest collaboration as a massive swing and miss, which ranks among the city’s worst cinematic disasters.

A movie about deep regrets, taking them head-on, forgiving oneself and more, The Way Back, on paper, has so much potential for clichés about demons in a bottle. Instead, and triumphantly earned, this affecting path to redemption is a piercing portrait of man and actor who, when the clock’s winding down, can drain the shot that matters most.

Alice and the Mayor isn’t bad, per se; it’s just routine. Not radical enough to be the political call to action that it so desperately wants to be, and not fully developed enough to the character study that it eventually reverts back to, it’s a strange hybrid of a film, with the two disparate sections never really working in conjunction.

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.

Maybe the film will squeeze a tear or two from your eye. What it won’t do is give you a reason to remember when, or why.

The wandering, strictly bush league movie, unfortunately, cannot reprise the unbridled strut of Quintana’s ‘Lebowski’ braggadocio, suggesting perhaps we should leave the resurrection of beloved characters to the professionals.

The Roads Not Taken is perfectly satisfactory in terms of style, but the film leaves much to be desired when it comes to content.

Siberia juggles a number of intriguing ideas without any real success at marrying them. It’s an enjoyable watch, if only for the confident surrealism, albeit one which could inspire confusion and/or disgust in many film fans.