Gregory Ellwood

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.

The only aspect of the film that even makes it watchable ends up being Shannon’s portrayal of Westinghouse.

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.

The problem, unfortunately, is that Hope Gap is based on Nicholson’s play “The Retreat from Moscow” and the proceedings never really leaves the theater. Despite the director’s attempts to throw in [a few] drone shots to break up the drama and make the affairs inherently more cinematic, there are few scenes that don’t seem as though they would be more intriguing played out in front of a live audience.

What elevates Hustlers from an entertaining con job flick to something noteworthy is that the racket isn’t inherent to the story Scafaria wants to tell. Many filmmakers will say their film tackles female empowerment, but few do the legwork to make an integral and authentic part of the story.

A hodgepodge of a story that only really works when Glaisher and Wren are in the sky. And when they are it’s absolutely gorgeous.

Somehow the filmmakers found lightheartedness and – gasp – laughs in a story of political intrigue at the top of the notoriously buttoned-up Catholic Church.

When Shults soars under this structure, he composes some brilliant moments. When he falters, it seems like the movie doesn’t know where to go or when to end (if it even wants to).

Ford v Ferrari is the sort of cinematic entertainment that sucks you in and won’t let you go until you cross the finish line.

The film’s title isn’t just referring to the past, but what everyone involved witnesses in their communities everyday. By letting this fester and not confronting it dead on are we not saying we’re fine with being “barbarians’? It’s a credible question the filmmaker leaves you to ponder in private.

His film feels more like a collection of wonderfully envisioned set pieces that don’t fully form a coherent whole.

For every scene that doesn’t work there is another that’s spellbinding. It’s gutsy and provocative and, frankly, that’s a compliment you can’t give many independent films these days.

A somewhat cool robot does not make a movie. ... The eventual twists aren’t that surprising and don’t really make sense in the context of even the film’s most basic world building.

There is drama in the source material for sure, but maybe a little more style could have helped elevate this moment in history for the masses.

The combination of Thompson’s sharp delivery and Kaling’s commercially friendly script make the film’s charms hard to resist.

The film team is so strong and the direction so fine that it’s simply hard to believe this is actually Talbot’s first full-length feature film. And to detail much more would spoil the genuine surprise of their many on-screen artistic contributions.

Honey Boy may center on the impressive portrayals of three talented actors, but it’s the woman behind the camera that makes it soar. You simply can’t wait to see what she does next.

Alfre Woodard may have graced us with the performance of her career.

The initial inspiration was clearly there, but the execution simply falls short.

Where it surprises is in Bell’s fantastic performance and the fact it eventually stops becoming a laugh out loud comedy. It soon dives into much more of a heartwarming drama with a few random jokes thrown in.

Orley’s direction is fine, and the picture is well made for a low budget indie, but Davidson is all you’ll really remember when you leave the theater. And for many, that’ll be enough.

Overall, “Fighting” works thanks to Merchant’s witty screenplay, Pugh’s transformative performance, Vaughn’s inspired off the cuff one-liners (likely improvised) and a cast that clearly respects the Bevis family story.

Apologies in advance, but for lack of a better descriptor the whole thing is a mess. It’s not even good enough to be a cult movie which is backhanded compliment anyway. But, hey, at least the actors tried.

There’s a line for an audience between conveying the true horror of what occurred and being excessive and Maras barely avoids the latter.

Fogelman clearly gets a thrill in constructing a tapestry full of one random tragedy after another (seriously, almost nothing good seems to happen to these people long term). And he also appears to love manipulating the audience’s emotions with these subsequent tragedies.

Despite the melodramatic ending, you leave the theater wanting to root for the film and its characters.