Gregory Ellwood

Dhont, who displayed an impressive artistic vision with his feature and slightly problematic debut “Girl,” has pulled off something miraculous with his sophomore effort.

The power of Mungiu’s work is his writing. Like much of Eastern European cinema of the past decade, he’s crafted a morality tale that should prompt a viewer to take a look at themselves in the mirror wherever they may live. And if it ends without any hint of resolution? With barely a glimmer of hope? So be it.

Admittedly, Utama is a simple story, but one that packs an emotional punch without endless exposition or symbolism.

There are definitely some logical gaps in Ford’s screenplay and perhaps the consequences could be slightly more dangerous (intriguingly, guns barely appear throughout the proceedings), but as a filmmaker, he displays a keen awareness of racking up the tension when necessary and not overdoing it when it’s not.

In the end, it’s a stellar turn from Sharp that dots the I’s and crosses the t’s when the tear ducts begin to flow. And you realize how marvelously constructed the whole endeavor is.

When the film works, it’s often because Banks confidently carries so much of it on her own shoulders.

Gambis, who is both a director and a biologist, has crafted a piece of art that captivates as much as it informs.

It’s a subtle and poignant performance that makes you eager for Richardson to have an even bigger spotlight in he next endeavor.

Despite Davis’ lyrical direction, the obvious gaps in the screenplay provide too many holes for what strives to be a definitive portrait of an exceptional talent.

This version of Cyrano feels less fresh or contemporary than it wants to be. Something is missing either in the songs, the staging, or, more likely, the screenplay. That being said, the core story will still be compelling to many as it has for over 120 years.

The filmmakers are beyond lucky to have the performances from Smith and Ellis, as well as Venus’ own incredible story, to keep you captivated when it matters most.

The storyline is so predictable, in fact, that despite Lafosse’s skills at crafting a scene the narrative simply leaves you wanting. The actors, on the other hand, carry most of your attention because they simply have to.

Of course, you can also just enjoy Red Rocket for Baker and cinematographer Drew Daniels’ gorgeous twilight landscapes or Rex’s irresistible charismatic performance. Or laugh at Stabler’s exploits (although we admit, the film could genuinely be a bit funnier) or fall under Strawberry’s charm. Or you can see more.

Despite what may initially seem to be a somewhat straightforward contemporary drama, Hamaguchi has crafted a rich, skilfully layered masterwork with flawless performances and a script that is a screenwriter’s holy grail. It sticks in your brain for days and nudges you to take it in again.

No one would deny Sisto clearly has a vision of what he’d like to accomplish and shows flashes of humor here and there, but the almost overt influences of any number of other filmmakers (Michael Haneke, ‎Yorgos Lanthimos, and Sean Durkin immediately come to mind) have the cumulative effect of making the proceedings feel numbingly familiar.

What’s strikingly revolutionary in Pleasure is how Thyberg’s gaze provides Bella’s story much-needed context by embracing the mundane aspects of this particular world.

To say it’s a stellar feat of cinema is something of an understatement.

It becomes pretty obvious early on that CODA is one of those movies where you know where the story is going pretty much the entire time, but the elements harmonize so beautifully it still sucks you in.

Ewing makes a creative decision in the final act of the picture which simply sucks all the air out of the room.

What there is, however, is Nasibullina and she makes you root for Velya despite all the character’s faults

Nine Days is the sort of original cinematic art that, these days, is few and far between.

Despite the efforts of Hopkins and an outstanding ensemble, Zeller can’t divorce his feature directorial debut from its theatrical origins.

There is barely a manufactured minute in the film. Everything fits together organically and in a narrative film that is much harder to pull off than it sounds.

What you take away from Wendy, however, is that Zeitlin’s talent to soar cinematically remains intact. He can transport you to a fantastical world without the benefit of massive CG effects or a massive set on a gigantic soundstage.

Dominic Cooke’s Ironbark is blessed with fantastic turns from Benedict Cumberbatch, Jessie Buckley and Rachel Brosnahan to up the stakes and make it all feel a bit fresher than it actually is.

Blank knows exactly what narrative territory she’s in and uses the dramatic conflicts at bay to make a number of decidedly funny and oh, so painful points.

Simien’s strengths come to the forefront once again and that’s what makes it so difficult to pinpoint why the final product doesn’t exactly gel together as it should.

Simply put, this is an expertly directed first feature. Clapin’s willingness to be patient as a scene unfolds, to let the hand experience the surreal images from its perspective, to let the quiet captivate the audience is beyond impressive.