Exhibiting a dexterity that suggests far more extensive directorial experience, Ejiofor proves himself a master of impact. His visual approach is expansive and evocative, thanks also to the fine work of cinematographer Dick Pope.

A thriller without thrills is merely a drama, and The Wedding Guest is a dull drama at that.

As if eager to self-sabotage its chances at being a somewhat palatable, not grossly preachy example for future projects, the final minutes of Run the Race do away with any measure of moderation the film had previously exhibited.

Paddleton is quietly funny and full of compassion — the kind of movie that, much like its characters, feels likely to get overlooked or ignored but proves surprisingly rewarding once you make the effort to look past its surface.

Director James Kent’s adaptation of Rhidian Brook’s 2014 novel — about a ghost-like Germany, a broken British marriage, and the healing powers of a passionate thaw — has the unfortunate quality of a hot-blooded soap grafted onto rather than merged with a historical-political drama.

Birds of Passage weaves a tale that is both familiar yet unique, yet it is so culturally tied to the Wayúu, it would be impossible to move it outside the Guajira. The film fits very comfortably in the genres of a gangster movie and an epic, with supernatural forces forewarning what’s to happen in the earthly realm.

What a delightful discovery this movie is, and what an incredible collection of impeccable performances. Ahn’s film finds the drama in the intentionally quiet life of introverts and lulls his audience into peaceful, wise, contented security.

Ruben Brandt, Collector is a wonderful heist film, a thrilling action-adventure, a gorgeous visual feast, and an intriguing look at an artist whose greatest talent is recognizing the value of the art inside others.

The cynicism of Donnybrook is overpowering, but unfocused. It’s easy to see why some people would react strongly to its ugly tale of misery and violence, and yet without context and contrast, without making statements beyond “the world sure does suck,” Sutton’s film feels frustratingly hollow. It makes an impact but leaves no impression.

Although it’s almost too much story, too much humor, and too many ideas for one movie to contain, the breathlessness of Happy Death Day 2U is irresistible. This is one frightfully clever sequel that audiences will want to revisit again… and again… and again… and again… and again…

The best gag comes from rom-com world’s cloying PG-13-ness.

Though it’s millennial angst that drives the Andrea/Tara trajectories, Mendelsohn’s portrait of midlife fragility is a strong coloring in Untogether.

As well intentioned as its flurry of feelings and sentimental performances are, “Berlin, I Love You” isn’t given the space or the format to truly sail. It fails to build on political landscape or culture and instead tries to pull on the heartstrings of its audience with half-baked concepts.

What The Gospel of Eureka does best is humanize this small and very specific group of people living on the fringes of the Christian and queer communities. They’re given the space to talk about their lives in their own words, praise the town they love so much, and preach empathy, particularly to those without any.

A unique take on one of the most painful and important parts of being human, the film is original and honest. Even knowing very little about the traditions of Hasidic Judaism, it was easy to relate to the very human element of finding a connection that ultimately leads to healing.

What Men Want” obviously doesn’t reinvent the wheel, and its biggest laughs are in the trailers, but it is a fun romp that manages to also confront a real-world issue.

The Prodigy may offer some shocks to those susceptible to this genre, or who have never seen it before, but to horror fans it will probably seem unremarkable and even bland.

The result is the best kind of fine art: heartbreaking, sophisticated and deeply cinematic all at once.

A gut-punch of a debut that examines race relations in America with unabashed force, Johnson’s present-day interpretation proves, disgracefully, how pertinent Wright’s text remains.

The filmmakers let the story slither at its own rhythm, so that the magnitude of the psychological control can be fully exposed. To accomplish that, their superb cast guides the film through a poisonous doctrine taken not from the pages of imagination but from real American folklore.

Midnight Family is both a compassionate portrait of a working-class family and a frightening ride through a broken healthcare system that risks the lives of both patients and providers like the Ochoa family.

The suspense is perhaps a tad elongated, and the film’s risky, ambiguous handling of a #MeToo case is dangerously open to misinterpretation. But Luce remains a brave, cinematically articulate effort that questions our country’s core failings without ever tidily categorizing its characters.

It is a gem likely to stay with anyone smart enough to seek it out.

Aside from exploring the housing crisis benefiting developers and startups, “Last Black Man” hones in on male friendship from the standpoint of two young guys whose fraternal bond surpasses any need for the posturing associated with toxic masculinity.

To tell someone else’s life story — especially when it’s being told with such brutal honesty — is impressive. To do so with with warmth, intellect, and vulnerability is a Herculean feat.

The film makes a good case for [Cohn's] legacy being entirely negative, leading to today’s cutthroat, divisive and lie-packed politics. But it also, crucially, makes a case for Cohn being a fascinating subject, a bundle of contradictions in a slick and soulless package.

As much as the film celebrates his creativity and gazes unflinchingly at his failings, it also functions as a valedictory, almost a requiem of sorts. Think of it as the film version of the final albums made by Leonard Cohen and David Bowie, who made wrenching final statements that they likely knew would be their last.

Klayman, an increasingly skilled observer as a documentarian, occasionally succumbs to her own curiosity, or maybe incredulity, to ask him a question about these comments, or positions, but mostly, her quiet, unobtrusive gaze exposes his flaws without requiring interjection.