Neugebauer, Lawrence and Henry deliver an unhurried gem that might feel slight but always feels right.

Though they never call much attention to themselves, the expertly illuminated frames of cinematographer Leonardo Feliciano (“Araby”) paint the ensemble cast with purposeful and aesthetically pleasing lighting.

Johnstone’s film captures the same alchemical blend of heart, humor and havoc you find only rarely, in crossover classics like “Gremlins,” and it yields more entertainment than most would-be blockbusters.

What saves this wallflower of a drama is its focus on the women’s friendship, which Mosaku and Horn sell with aplomb.

Forster’s haphazard direction is so checked-out it’s painful – he shows no interest in giving anyone a scene that isn’t wholly about snapping something into place, and his comedy mise-en-scène and timing in even the simplest moments of humor is flat. And the less said about Thomas Newman’s phoned-in score, the better.

Scott Cooper has directed a film with a gimmicky premise but genuine dramatic weight, anchored by handsome filmmaking and striking performances.

Colman does her absolute best to counter a scenario that manages to be both strangely off-putting and patly predictable, by shaping up a tartly unsentimental turn.

Across the eras, wardrobe changes, short-lived smiles and bitter tears, and eventually the addiction and scandals, Ackie’s portrayal of Houston stands out not only for lip-synching so precisely and convincingly it makes one wonder if she is in fact singing, but because rather than imitate she seems to simply be trying to channel the cornerstones of her personality.

At times Wildcat is a difficult watch, raw and unflinching.

With its aura of melancholic humanity and last-minute grace, Living reminds us that we’re all susceptible to a personal “infrastructure week,” but that it’s never too late to do something about it.

Too self-serious to be comical and too strange to be earnest, The Almond and the Seahorse traps viewers in a purgatory where every occurrence feels equally cumbersome and meaningless.

It’s a hyped-up cocaine conversation of a movie, throwing out lots of ideas and images and mammoth set pieces without ever amounting to anything.

In Gertten’s hands, Nelly & Nadine isn’t just a war movie but also a touching family history, an unforgettable romance and, above all, a magnificent tribute to the power of persistence in art, life and love.

The ending of The Quiet Girl is modestly dramatic compared to what has preceded it, but the emotional charge we are presumably supposed to feel has been cut off by all the contemplative long shots that have kept us for so long at arm’s length.

The devastation caused by those Russian soldiers is on full display in “Freedom on Fire,” which can be hard to watch. But the film is less a catalogue of horrors than a tribute to the people who look for strength despite those horrors; it continually finds moments of grace, humanity and even beauty that seem almost unfathomable in these circumstances.

It is an often nasty film, with little regard for anyone on screen, far more content to grasp for false depth rather than logic. It’s a shame there’s nothing to root for other than its dwindling runtime.

When Cameron’s film calms down, and the stunning imagery that cinematographer Russell Carpenter (“Titanic”) has created with the film’s enormous visual-effects team can linger for a while, the imagination and scope of Avatar: The Way of Water can occasionally feel quite magical.

The ugly truth is that society has routinely failed to protect poor women and children, and it’s still failing. Guzzoni uses all his talent to amplify this sad reality and, in turn, solidifies his position as a leader of the New Wave of Latin cinema

One of the subjects of To the End notes that she wants to “speak things into existence.” It’s a painfully poignant wish, representative of the blend of optimism, desperation, and determination that powers the entire film.

Retaining the creative forces behind the successful musical is the key to the movie musical’s success, as “Matilda the Musical” maintains the mischievous humor and the uniquely oddball sensibility of the stage production and book, delivering a wonderfully rousing screen adaptation anchored by superb performances.

For the Christmas romcom devotee, it will provide a breath of fresh air in its competency of craft, though for those looking to dip a toe into the genre, Something From Tiffany’s is almost too grounded and complacent in its lack of drama.

The information presented in “Lowndes County” is absolutely vital, but all the archival interviews it surfaces make one wonder if a better documentary on the same subject exists.

It’s a powerful, well-assembled watch, but curious viewers may feel prompted to seek out more details than this film is willing to offer.

Much like the UCLA interviews that inspired it, Framing Agnes is a vital part of the historical record, addressing trans life as we know it right now and providing deeper understanding for current and future viewers.

If you like unabashedly corny teen romances, there’s a fair chance that the sheer too-much-ness of The Quintessential Quintuplets Movie will appeal to you.

What remains unsaid is often as important as what is said in Sr., an emotional documentary directed by Chris Smith about the relationship between Robert Downey Jr. and his namesake father.

The lack of stakes in this film come from its quirky style and shoddy writing. It’s perfectly possible for well-written film to be silly, but the levity in Four Samosas fizzles into nothing.

Even Downs, so appealing on Nickelodeon’s “Henry Danger,” can’t fight the forces of this soulless script (which was based on a potentially promising story idea by Wenonah Wilms).