Even if the film isn’t entirely to my taste, it’s a provocative and powerfully made piece of work.

Hara marries biography to observational and slapstick humor, plus a healthy dose of supernatural rumblings, and in so doing produces something altogether fascinating and endlessly entertaining.

An above average, carnage-driven Korean crime drama.

Shin Godzilla ushers in a new age for Godzilla, and a welcome one at that. It’s not perfect, but it’s ready to ask big questions and also demand thoughtful answers. In that sense, it’s one of the most valuable Godzilla movies to come along in years, decades even.

Seemingly primed to deliver daffy thrills, The Accountant instead goes about its noble-killer business with all the excitement of an IRS audit.

Theo Who Lived is a cross-pollination of performance art and self-purging, a cleansing act that allows Curtis to face the demons that still torment him today from within the safety of a film production.

The bad news, for anyone over the age of eight, is that it’s at its best disposable, and at its worst really, really annoying.

Though the film doesn’t quite overwhelm as horror, the thematic implications are dense enough in this case that it ends up leaving a lingering aftertaste anyway.

The critical failure of 37 — because certainly a film is allowed to have disdain for its characters; there is no law that art must care for its subjects — is the fundamental lack of narrative, or even of tension.

Masterfully played by Annette Bening, Dorothea is a fascinating character of contradictions.

The filmmaker has a real gift for getting into the political context of her stories while never neglecting the personal, and seeing the Khamas gradually win over his people, while still battling the British establishment, is gripping, rewarding and eventually moving.

Keeping things on the right side of watchable are the performances, none of which are particularly revelatory, but all of them serving the territory their role in the story requires. Blunt and Bennett both rise above the pack, but even so, the screenplay doesn’t give them dimension until almost too late.

While ‘Life’s Journey’ might be a deeper meditation on the meaning of life and deeper questions of who we are, The IMAX Experience is a more realized version of similar ideas. Ultimately, The IMAX Experience is a tone poem that not only pays tribute to planet Earth and the life that inhabits it, but marvels at how this miracle was created.

The Greasy Strangler is utterly honest, to the point of purity. For all its idiosyncrasies and blank lack of comprehension with respect to any taboo, this film believes in its corrosively yearning inhabitants, their unrefined desires and untrained bodies.

Lehmann’s real imprint isn’t found in the visuals, but in the performances evoked from both Duplass and Paulson. While the former may have the showstopper moments, it’s the latter who stands out.

While the documentary The Dwarvenaut won’t break any new ground in terms of nonfiction narrative, it will ideally open up viewers eyes to the fact that art goes far beyond what’s painted or drawn and can be seen in the figurines of a live action role playing game.

If Atkinson’s presentation is just a hair above “competent,” it does the job of exposing the corroded heart of American policing.

Even though it’s far from perfect, “Danny Says” is recommended to fans of punk and rock history.

This adaptation of Ransom Riggs’ children’s-lit novel offers up merely serviceable studio spectacle, minus any of Burton’s former malevolent mad-genius spirit.

It’s hard to resist the joy of the film, the unbridled heart, and Ove’s tremendous, hilarious hatred for all the idiots of the world.

The overwhelming force of The 13th is such that as the movie moves into its third act it becomes more and more heartbreaking in all its countless examples of injustice and abuse.

By pointing their camera at the Red Mosque, Trivedi and Naqvi add surprisingly little to the conversation.

For all the moments of visual flair and earnest fun, it’s a film so indebted to Anderson (among obvious others) that it never manages to become something of its own.

‘Jane Doe’ never aspires beyond the ordinary, and more crucially even fails to meet that modest standard. Lifeless and lackluster, ‘Jane Doe’ never draws blood.

It’s intense as hell, and a supreme example of how the morally repugnant can be made to look weirdly beautiful.

While it’s tricky to pin down exactly what Trespass Against Us means to be, it’s easy to enjoy what it actually is.

Likable, heartfelt and sweet in all the right places, Stoller and co-director Doug Sweetland have put together a charming surprise that’s as joyful and friendly as it is funny and well-meaning.

My Blind Brother is mirthless, though Kroll and Slate have a delightfully easy charm that occasionally rises above the tedium.