Frank Scheck

A former MMA star, Carano clearly has the impressive physicality and charisma to compete with the male stars in this arena. But she's going to need far better vehicles than this humdrum effort.

Brenner, who also produced, is an absolute delight, demonstrating sharp comic delivery and looking like she's firmly enjoying her character's ability to outwit everyone around her.

The filmmaker's intent was obviously to concentrate on the specific incident and its aftermath, but personal details would probably have enhanced the overall emotional impact. Nonetheless, 16 Shots is a worthy addition to what has sadly become a proliferating documentary subgenre.

This is such a uniquely bizarre story that it can't help but exert a certain fascination. But it's hard to avoid the feeling that it would have been better served by a compelling dramatization rather than this too-dry documentary.

Most problematically, the film is simply atrocious on a technical level, featuring subpar cinematography (a generous term, in this case) and muddy sound that wouldn't pass muster on anything larger than a cellphone screen. If you 're going to put all of those magnificent bodies on display, we should at least be able to see them clearly.

Running a brisk 75 minutes, this is one of those rare documentaries that feels too short. Some of its stories could have been more fleshed out, greater historical context could have been provided, and its use of such musical selections as Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin'" and Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors" are beyond cliche. But these are small quibbles about a film that should be essential viewing in these times when intolerance is on the rise.

The film is notable more for its unusual conceit than as a serious exploration of grief and familial relationships.

The charmingly offbeat effort features the sort of sly, deadpan humor that quietly sneaks up on you, as well as valuable lessons about the need to get out of one's comfort zone.

Q Ball delivers a stirring and moving portrait of a program that provides inmates an opportunity to channel their energy in non-violent fashion.

A stylishly made, nail-biting effort that proves consistently engrossing.

Portraying his most complex character to date, Adkins delivers a ferocious turn that proves visceral in its emotional as well as physical intensity.

The combination of diverse casting and female empowerment themes results in a perfectly politically correct Aladdin for these times. The only thing that seems to have been left out is the magic, which is a bit of a problem considering that one of the main characters is a genie.

While not exactly original, the premise is certainly effective enough. But Brightburn lacks the visual stylization or wit to elevate it from the realm of the crudely effective B-movie.

Unfortunately, the themes don't resonate in sufficiently powerful fashion to compensate for the film's sluggish pacing and strained melodramatics.

Miki Wecel's film will prove fascinating not only to animation and Vincent Van Gogh buffs, but to anyone interested in how the creative sausage is made.

Awkward execution and technical imperfections prevent the film from having its desired emotional impact.

Provides a compelling history of a company that created a groundbreaking product that was unfortunately ahead of its time.

Considering that it was filmed in bits and pieces over two decades, it's not surprising that 17 Blocks is disjointed in its storytelling, nor that its technical elements are ragged (subtitles are frequently employed due to poor sound quality). But it nonetheless packs a potent emotional punch.

The plot machinations of Stuart Flack's screenplay can be seen from a mile away, but that doesn't make this familiar tale of a vengeful, obsessed woman any less satisfying.

The film, marking Ben Hernandez Bray's directorial debut, is mainly a violent police procedural and vigilante drama that succeeds well enough on those terms. It's also notable for its almost entirely Latino cast and deep immersion into East Los Angeles culture. The pic certainly looks authentic, despite the fact that it was largely shot in Calgary.

Astutely chronicling an amazing musical career that ended prematurely due to Parkinson's disease, the doc will delight the singer's old fans and likely make her many new ones as well.

Clara forgets to have anything resembling a compelling plot. Or an original one. Even science geeks will find little here compelling.

The film weaves enough social, political and personal themes into its mix to make it interesting even for those who mainly think of "hockey puck" as a Don Rickles insult.

[A] fascinatingly oddball story.

Those who grew up reading Scary Stores to Tell in the Dark will no doubt be thrilled by this cinematic tribute. And those who didn't may find themselves compelled to read the books to find out for themselves what all the fuss is about.

Too often coming across as an elaborate home movie, the doc would have benefited from its story being told by a more experienced filmmaker who was less emotionally involved in the proceedings.

Unfortunately, for all the debuting filmmaker's talent for creepy atmospherics, I Trapped the Devil feels draggy and attenuated even with its brief 82-minute running time including credits. Despite some good performances, the film goes nowhere, and very, very slowly.

Among the film's most visually dazzling sections are a series of extremely sensual black-and-white photographs of the dancer shot by Richard Avedon, who famously commented of his subject, "His whole body was responding to a kind of wonder at himself. A narcissistic orgy of some kind...an orgy of one."