The visually icy Disobedience lacks the absorbing emotional pull of the filmmaker’s best but packs a rare kind of generosity in its attentiveness to complex customs, navigated without judgment.

Everyone rises to the occasion of a special project of subtle significance: a comedy about nothing less than the proper way to say goodbye to the past.

Only the most easily pleased fans of foul-mouthed comedy will respond to these jokes and set pieces, which generally lack cleverness or comic imagination.

Bland, artless and unoriginal, it's a horror sequel as faceless as its mask-wearing killers.

It’s hard to give sibling co-directors Joe and Anthony Russo (makers of the thornier Captain America films) any credit—or blame, really—for steering a product that’s been so corporately fine-tuned. They toggle dutifully between million-dollar quips and Wrestlemania smackdowns, and when they find room for a vista of galactic stillness, it’s not out of any inspired vision so much as the need for air.

Jet Trash is not unlikeable, but nothing other than the scenery leaves much of an impression.

The film’s languorous, tangential flow isn’t for everyone, but you’ll be surprised by how easily you can roll with it, especially if you tune into Zama’s cringe-funny frequency.

Truth or Dare ultimately plays like soap-opera trash.

Schumer is a talented performer, and her physical comedy here draws some chuckles (as does Michelle Williams’ turn as Schumer’s helium-voiced ditz of a boss), but I Feel Pretty is consumed by an annoying premise that seems practically designed to generate think pieces.

The Broken Tower feels unique as a young man’s tribute to an adventuresome, doomed soul.

Morgan's performance is a gem of comic timing and audience-directed winks. He elevates a movie that’s mostly about watching stuff get stomped down.

Journeyman may be intimate but it never feels small.

Music’s healing power fires off rays in all directions. Cave often looks like a healer himself, swooping about among the front-row faithful, a shaman in a sea of desperately reaching, lit-up hands.

Its world is weirdly familiar and yet alien. It’s also darn scary.

It’s unblinking in a Dardenne-ish way and often hard to watch, with the emotional toll playing on its characters’ faces. The ending is a floorer too.

To be fair to first-time feature director Lennart Ruff, he has far less money than James Cameron to pull off this gloomy sci-fi thriller. But that’s no excuse for aiming so low when it comes to your concepts and characterisation.

At times, there is something almost spoofy about this film’s relentless miserableness. Its 30-minute long hallucinatory dream sequence didn’t work for me – it might be that you need a degree in Russian history to make sense of its allegory on the nature of power.

The slowest of slow burns, requiring adjusting to its careful pacing. There’s no instant gratification on offer, but the second half will draw you into its bristling power games.

A chase movie becomes an outdoor courtroom drama, and Thornton wrings from this fable of rough frontier justice a statement from the heart. Australia now has its "High Noon."

It’s a road movie in which the origin is more interesting than the finish line, but Lean on Pete is never less than fully felt.

Pure, bold cinema, the images and sound design working together to scare the bejesus out of you.

A wonderfully crude film (we're talking "Superbad" levels of raunchiness), but one in which the overall vibe is sweet: kids patiently waiting for their parents to grow up already.

Coming after her uneven "We Need to Talk About Kevin," Ramsay’s latest — a complete return to form — reminds us of a hugely audacious and imaginative talent, one that only needs to find the right material to glitter, darkly.

If you’ve had a hard day and want to watch something to restore your sense of justice in this world, then Braven has all the boxes well and truly ticked.

Is Gemini on the level of classic L.A. films like Heat or The Player? Hardly. But you sink into its mood, and that’s enough.

Bloodlight and Bami defiantly reflects the experimental whirlwind of Jones’s existence: her ability to look and feel relevant decades since she started out.

Unsane's script is marred by faulty trip wires and too many clichés, but director Steven Soderbergh, the alchemist of American movies, is interested in the plot only as a means to experiment with style.

The more the story unravels, the more of a sorry mess this feels.