The one and only Leonard Cohen turns flat in Nick Broomfield’s latest, and it brings down his better half as a result.
Jesse Eisenberg is a twerp falling down the toxic-masculinity rabbit hole in Riley Stearns’ insightful black comedy.
In Ari Aster’s latest, sharing each other’s emotions is scarier than being alone.
Jessie Buckley rocks the stage in a country-fied music drama that treads too-familiar territory outside its Scottish stage.
Jake Scott’s dreamlike ode to several generations of women in an American family is let down by an overly meandering script.
The vulgar auteur commits to a 13-hour crime drama that traffics in his most minimalist, nihilistic sensibilities.
This indie doc about modern slave labor in the East Asian fishing industry is well-intentioned but pulls its punches when they’re most needed.
Denys Arcand’s droll French caper comedy leans a little too hard on cliche and creaky anti-capitalist screeds.
Michael Dougherty’s entry in the Americanized kaiju franchise is frightfully brain-dead, even for a summer blockbuster.
Jessica Hausner’s sci-fi yarn about plants that emit happy drugs doesn’t branch out as widely as one would like.
Céline Sciamma’s queer period romance is an intimate visual feast, filled with uncanny empathy and admirable aesthetics.
As self-reflective as it is starkly modernist, Pedro Almodóvar’s latest is navel gazing at its finest.
Noble Jones vies for the title of treacly Sundance-y auteur with his gimmicky romantic drama about a lovelorn doomsday prepper.
Lee Won-Tae piles on the cheese in this pulpy gangster thriller that rewards mightily, if you’re in the right mood.
Larisa Sadilova’s probing drama highlights small-town Russian culture through an opaque lens.
It takes some doing to make a movie about a talking fridge boring, but by gum, Benoît Forgeard’s messy comedy manages to pull it off.
Mati Diop’s expansion of her documentary short is a scifi-tinged genre experiment that admirably swings for the fences, even if it doesn’t land with complete success.
Following up I, Daniel Blake with another grim drama about English poverty, Ken Loach spits venom about the dark side of capitalism to mixed results.