In this absorbing documentary short, Mack is a girl who started taking testosterone under a doctor's care in high school. Under Texas law, a high school athlete must compete as the gender of his birth certificate. So Mack, despite transitioning publicly on social media and in the actual media, won two wrestling state championships as a girl. Not by choice! In college, he did start to compete (and win) as a boy on the Texas National wrestling team...but eventually quit.

The film is relentlessly true to life...we hear in Mack's and his sheriff grandmother's own words of his inner life and struggles. And watch his wrestling matches both as a girl and as a boy. He's a great kid. Period. And the film makers do him and his social plight justice.

This is a slickly made documentary short which has present day actors and celebrities lip sync from tapes made from interviews at various times with the people who took part in the Stonewall uprising of 1969, both as participants and in one case as a policeman. Occasionally the actual survivors reminisce themselves by the side of the lip syncing actors. The story of those days, recounting events which arguably inaugurated gay pride, is shown with old footage; but the eyewitness accounts provide a running narrative. The lip syncing worked well; but it seemed like something of a gimmick with little purpose other than to attract current day young people to understand and relate to this "ancient" history. As somebody who lived through that time (although second-hand living in L.A.), the message was familiar and has been told better in previous films.

In this frenetic and involving documentary, Juan Ochoa is barely 17-years old and already drives a private ambulance owned and run by his family in Mexico City. Because of a shortage of government ambulances, entrepreneurial families race in their medically stocked vehicles to pick-up accident victims, and if given permission take them to a private hospital which pays the family for the drop-offs. However, the Ochoa family is in constant money shortage, unable to squeeze payment from indigent victims. They sometimes sleep in the ambulance, struggle with licensing regulations, and often encounter run-ins with the cops who are also on the take.

The film is strikingly photographed and action packed, with frequent, well edited night-time chases through the city streets accompanied by a sound track of sirens and emergency frequency announcements. And the Ochoa family who run this enterprise are interesting: paramedic father, uncles, children all take part. The film avoids showing the worst mayhem and injuries; but it also doesn't shrink from following heartrending tragedy behind closed doors.

This Bolivian/American co-production is the most important, timely, entertaining and moving gay themed film in years. 'Nuff said.

A young Canadian of indigenous heritage is training to be a jockey for a relay racing team. It is an old First Nation tradition tracing back to the prairies and battles: racing on one horse, making a running transition to another horse two times, in competition. For the first time, this boy is going to ride and race the horses before thousands at the Calgary Stampede. It doesn't go all that well; but at least he finishes the race. And the horses are magnificent. This 14-minute documentary short follows a season of training culminating with the race. It is fast paced and well shot; but ultimately it's nothing special.

In 2013, 71-year old Phil told his two daughters and family that he was, and always had been, transgender. Phil had been living an occasional, secret, cross-dressing second life in San Francisco as Stephanie. And now, despite three long dissolved marriages to women, he was going to explore full time transition. This incredibly interesting and even heartwarmingly non-judgmental documentary short was made by her daughter and husband, over the course of five years of hormones, reassignment surgery and psychological adjustment. Before our eyes, an elderly, bald man gradually became a very attractive, seemingly well-adjusted, elderly woman: Stephanie.

I must admit a special interest in this film. I'm a cisgender gay man of approximately the same age as Stephanie. And Stephanie is a transgender bisexual (more likely lesbian) woman that looks (as a man) very much like me. Wow! Maybe this wasn't as emotionally fraught for me was it was for Stephanie's daughter, who broke down when first confronted with the physical tasks that her "father" went through (eye-lashes, mascara, lipstick, wig, clothes, etc.) to change appearance. But it was plenty affecting and identifiable for me to watch in any case. I can't put myself in Stephanie's pumps...but I can relate to her in a way I absolutely didn't expect. What a fine film this was to send me on this journey of discovery with this family!

In 2013 the government of the Province of New Brunswick gave a Houston energy company fracking rights to explore for natural gas in broad swaths of populated land. Concerned that the water aquifers, and their very lives for generations to come would be adversely affected, a coalition of English, French and First Nation residents banded together to protest and stop the despoiling of their beautifully photographed forests and waterways. And in turn to save themselves from the environmental and health hazards that others had succumbed to from fracking experiences elsewhere. They met heavy police and security guard repression with protests and sometimes even violence. This documentary short tells the story of these protests, from interviews with citizens and news footage. The film is a tribute to the courage and dedication of the people of New Brunswick.

This documentary short tells the moving story of 34-year old Missouri politician, activist and father, Bruce Franks, Jr. He was elected and re-elected to the state House of Representatives from an inner city St. Louis district in 2016, in reaction to the "black lives matter" demonstrations in Ferguson after the killing of Michael Brown by a white policeman (coincidentally on Franks' son's day of birth in 2014). Before resigning in 2019 (for depression among other factors), he championed the fight against black-on-black youth violence...and wrote a bill that passed for the state to declare a memorial to his older brother who was killed by gun violence at age 9 back in 1991. The film shows him in action at a "rap-off" contest and being a good dad with his two children, along with his ardent campaigning and activities as a legislator. He emotionally recounts about the almost 200 funerals he'd attended since his brother's death. This is a well made documentary which successfully profiles a charismatic and courageous African-American man.

I naively watched this film without any preconceptions, unaware of the controversies over race that the film has caused on letterboxd and elsewhere. I had a mixed reaction watching it: hated the way that this film made me feel uncomfortable, judgemental, distressed by its terrible truths about a black, resolutely middle-class family striving to exist in present day Florida. But I also adored the film making: writer/director Trey Edward Shults is a talented budding auteur of great originality. Every aspect of the production was thrilling to watch, from the outstanding acting ensemble, to the vivid cinematography, to the remarkably nimble editing, to the superbly unsettling score by Trent Raznor and Atticus Ross. If I had any reservations it was about the writing...the structure of setting up one involving story and then just about dropping that story unresolved to tell another, somehow left me wanting, needing more resolution.

That's all I'm going to write about the film. It kicked me in the gut in a good way, made me think, illuminated troubling father issues in a way I had never seen before, and introduced me to a talented young actor, Kelvin Harrison, Jr. And in the final summation, that's what matters.

In 2017, protests against Venezuelan government oppression reached a fever pitch, as the police used tear gas and violent tactics against the citizenry. This short (10 minutes) documentary shows the effects of the ensuing chaos. Little attempt is made by the film makers to expand the meaning of the riots beyond the actual happening. The action is well photographed, bringing the viewer right into the middle of the action. But that's about it.

No policy of the Trump era is more reviled and misused than our Southern border mess. Immigration courts are jammed, asylum pleas are dismissed, women are held in concentration camps and separated indefinitely from their children before possible expulsion. This documentary short tells the story of two Central America women whose children were sent indefinitely into foster care thousands of miles away while they awaited disposition of their claims to stay in the U.S. Their plights were heartbreaking; but the film itself seemed somewhat emotionally manipulative, deliberately played for the camera, rather than occurring spontaneously. Too bad. The anguish of these women and the confusion of their children were real. Only the film making seemed manufactured.

Freedom in America depends on universal suffrage and an honest and accurate vote. This outstanding and important documentary short recounts the various ways that votes, especially minority community votes, are systematically suppressed. Using the close 2018 Governor's race in Georgia as a primary example, such organized tactics of suppression are exposed. Closing polling places, especially in minority areas, leading to difficult commutes and long line impossible for working people and the elderly to endure...a kind of invisible poll tax. Large scale purging of the voting rolls for trumped up reasons. Enforcing unreasonable ID requirements to enter the polling place. Not sending out requested absentee ballots. Disenfranchising first-time student voters with address confusion. Deliberately voiding "provisional" ballots on technicalities. Additionally, in Georgia allowing the Secretary of State, in charge of registration and voting, to actually be on the ballot as a candidate for Governor...the equivalent of the umpire competing in the game.

All these issues and other illustrations of voter suppression (e.g. gerrymandering) are instituted in service of depriving minorities of their franchise. The film uses superb editing, strong graphics, a stirring score and revealing news footage to make its point. Vote tampering in many areas and many states is a scandal that must be recognized and rectified by any means. This may be the most important documentary I've watched this year. It certainly doesn't bode well for a fair and honest election to come in 2020!

"Sankofa" is a Ghanan word meaning "go back and get it." This tone poem of a documentary short is a plea for African-Americans to understand and glory in their African heritage. The film alternates sequences of poets and artists from the American diaspora recounting their inability to escape the lasting effects of slavery, along with natives remaining in Ghana demonstrating their pride and urging American blacks to join them in celebrating their culture. I'm not sure that I, as a white man, am the intended audience for this film; but even so, I felt the film makers' passion and responded to the resounding poetry that filled every frame.

This ESPN special short doc recounts the story of famed Pittsburgh Steelers running back Rocky Bleier. In 1969, his first year out of Notre Dame, having made the Steelers team by grit despite being short and slow, he was drafted into the army and sent to Viet Nam. There, in an ambush, he was shot in the thigh and wounded by shrapnel from a grenade. Four soldiers in his platoon died; and Rocky spent 4 years rehabilitating himself. Despite doubts he would ever play again, he made the starting team in 1974, and won 4 Super Bowl rings as part of the Steelers dynasty of the 1970s.

In 2018, ESPN transported 72-year old Bleier back to the valley in Nam where he was wounded, along with a shooting crew led by announcer Tom Rinaldi. Bleier's return and recollections, as portrayed in this film, are a moving testament to a stalwart American hero who is finally making peace with that part of his life. I was never a Steelers fan; but this film made me a Rocky Bleier fan.

This medical informational short documentary examines the relatively misunderstood disease of Lymphedemia, where malfunctioning or cancer destroyed lymph nodes fail, and horribly painful and disfiguring swelling occurs. The film features a doctor specialist and two patients discussing their ailment; but the general theme is that where medicine has no answer other than compression garments to control the swelling (there is no present cure), faith is the answer. The information in the film is valuable; but the film's faith based rationale and amateurish production values (including the terrible narration which pushes the faith agenda) made for a poor reception by this viewer.

On April 16, 2014, the Korean ferry boat Sewol capsized and sunk in the middle of a 13 hour voyage. Out of 476 passengers and crew, 304 died...approximately 250 of them high school students on an excursion to Jeju Island. The disaster had enormous consequences in South Korea, including the eventual impeachment of the President of the country for corruption and her mistakes in coping with the event at the time. Years of court cases and investigations ensued examining the massive series of malfeasances and just plain misjudgements that led to the fatalities..and of course, I had never heard of this incredibly tragedy before.

This 26 minute short documentary tells the story of this event, using recordings of the emergency calls, aerial videos from helicopters sent to the scene, interviews with survivors, bereaved parents and attempted rescuers (along with recovered phone videos taken by some who perished). The film concludes with scenes from the follow-up court trials and the emotionally wrenching dredging and recovery of the sunken ship and bodies three years later.

The film itself is a gripping and dramatic retelling of the tragedy, extremely well written and edited (although for many actual details I was forced to check the Wikipedia article after watching the film.) This is a fine example of the skillful documenting of a recent historical event using the visual materials available. If I have any problem with the film, it is that it was too short (at 26 minutes) to tell the entire story; and maybe a little more background of the hows and whys it happened could have been added to the film to add to the already shattering emotional effect of the actual footage that was used in the film.

This rousing and important feature length documentary about AIDS in China was shot over a seven year period as all involved were under strict scrutiny by the government organs. Yet the film was made. It centers on an activist, Liu Ximei, 30-something now, who contracted the virus as a 10-year old from a transfusion after a terrible accident. Turns out that in the 1990s, millions of Chinese (300,000 in Ximei's Henan province alone) were infected through a government program to cheaply buy peasant blood with contaminated needles. Needless to say, the government and a society that spurns innocent victims have not been helpful with providing moral aid and inexpensive retro-viral drugs and treatment since that time.

Ximei is a heroic figure, helping those more in need than herself, and defying the government by managing to travel to Switzerland to testify of the plight of her fellow victims. The documentary is episodic and breaks no new ground in film making; but the long-term commitment by director Cohen and subject Ximei to fighting the good fight and putting it on film is to be honored.

This short documentary tells of the plight of young girls in remote northern Pakistan who desire education, but are systematically deprived of schooling for economic and social reasons. Yet, a small group of smart and involved girls have gradually been allowed to enter schools in the cities and live in dorms with "Girls Section" posted on the door. Most of the young girls interviewed for the film speak fairly good English, demonstrating that education is working for them despite the odds. The film is beautifully shot, featuring striking vistas of the local mountains and valleys of the region. But the heartening theme here is that progress for these strong girls is actually happening.

This is a short documentary showing a series of gorgeous celestial photographs, mostly taken by the Hubble satellite telescope. They are cut to an overbearing symphonic score with no discernible editing scheme. What makes the film watchable is its short (10 minute) length and the quality of the images. As a one-time amateur astronomer (back in the 1950s) with my own home-made telescope, I was always thrilled to find nebulae and galaxies in the night sky. However, I had no idea how far that celestial imaging has come in the past 70 years. The visuals here were thrilling to me...the film making less so.

Alex and Marcus are identical twins, now in their mid-50s, who are painfully confronting each other across a table in this gripping and intimate, stranger-than-fiction documentary. The back-story: in 1982, teenage Alex was in a near-fatal motorcycle accident. Waking from a three-month coma his life memories had been permanently scrubbed from his brain...he could recognize and name his twin brother; but recall nothing else, even his own name. Marcus set out to fill his brother's memory banks with stories of a happy childhood, which were total lies, told with the best of intentions, but corrosive to the psychological well-being of both twins.

The film gradually approached the horrifying truth through heartrendingly honest face-to-face conversations between the brothers, along with filmed evidence which clarified the reality. It's a little slow and repetitive to develop; and I don't intend to delve any further into the narrative that Marcus finally discloses on film to his brother. However watch this fascinating and disturbing Netflix documentary yourself. You likely won't be disappointed.

Four prisoners awaiting trial in the Richmond, VA county jail are profiled in this socially relevant and often entertaining documentary. They are part of a group of model prisoners who are also amateur musicians who have been given a chance to record their songs with professional hip-hop star Speech, of the group Arrested Development. Garland is a tattooed, white country star-in-the-making, Teddy, Anthony and Devonte are talented rappers with screwed up lives but innate talent. Their stories are cautionary; but their songs are important. The film itself is episodic, skipping from subject to subject without a strong editorial narrative. But the jailhouse scenes are intimately shot and gripping; and the subjects well chosen for their talent and timeliness.

In late 1939, after Germany and the USSR carved up Poland, thousands of Polish Catholic women and children were transported to camps in Siberia. By 1943 many of the children were disbursed to the Indian sub-continent, where for 5 years they lived, grew and more or less thrived in barracks and settlements provided by Indian princes, until many (but not all) were relocated after the war when the British Raj ended.

This relatively short (45 minutes) documentary film tells the story of these Polish refugee children, now elderly men and women, through old film footage and contemporary interviews. Many are particularly thankful to the wife of the Polish Consul, Kira Banasinska, who traveled to Pakistan and elsewhere in the sub-continent to rescue orphans. But to a person, their stories are moving testaments to the hospitality of the Indian government and people. The film has dialogue in English as well as Polish with subtitles. As a documentary, the editing and construction were fairly straightforward; but the relevant historical information was poorly presented for an audience not familiar with the events of the film. Still, the people stories were moving enough to make this a worthwhile watch.

This documentary examines the entire history of the Statue of Liberty...from its conception in the mind of visionary sculptor Frédéric Bartholdi, through the execution of the artist's dream, the struggle for money in the U.S. to build the base, and the history of the island she sits on and the new museum being built there. The film is beautifully put together by directors Bailey and Barbato, using still montages, old newsreels and films, and interviews from around the world. It is both entertaining and informative...I certainly learned a lot that I had no idea about (for instance the statue is made of copper 2 pennies thick...with an interior armature built to last for centuries by Gustave Eiffel of "tower" fame.) It's also politically relevant in this age..."give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free" is a timely reminder that portals of entry are better for the progress of this immigrant-built nation than walls.

Robert Bilott was an attorney at a big Cincinnati law firm that usually defends corporations. When a farmer from his home town of Parkersburg, W. Virginia brought him a case of dying cows, he took on the town's biggest employer, Du Pont, in a complicated environmental pollution courtroom case which eventually involved every consumer of potentially harmful Teflon pans (I'll admit that I checked out my kitchen after seeing the film to weed out anything Teflon-ish).

Mark Ruffalo plays Bilott as a gruff and non-charismatic obsessive. This is no Erin Brokovich, whose own environmental cause was championed by gorgeous Julia Roberts in that eponymous film. But the two films are cousins. Director Todd Haynes returns to the environmental activism mode of his previous Safe, however with a more traditional narrative than his usual fare. The film is bleak to watch, and a scary indictment of corporate and government watchdog malfeasance. As such, it is a badly needed reminder of the consequences of rampant environmental deregulation under Trump.

Who would have thought that the most poignant scene in a film this year would have been a full one-minute of total silence? No sound on film, no sound from an audience of several hundred people (not even an audible cough). That's just one of the unexpected pleasures of this film.

Ostensibly this is a biopic of famed children's TV personality Fred Rogers (convincingly and sincerely played by Tom Hanks as a person, not a simulation of the actual personality). Actually, the finished film is more the story of Lloyd Vogel, a troubled, cynical "Esquire" journalist assigned to profile Rogers for a cover story about heroes. Vogel (a fictional version of real-life journalist Tom Junod) was played by Matthew Rhys, once again shedding his Welsh accent for a perfect American one, and delivering a superb performance of a man torn by his own father issues encountering an undeniably and persuasively positive father figure surrogate. This could turn saccharin in a New York minute, if handled by less skilled hands than director Marielle Heller, dedicated screen writers Noah Harpster and Micah Fitzerman-Blue, and the splendid cast.

I don't want to forget Chris Cooper, who plays Vogel's actual father, as a reformed a*hole who deserted his family under dire circumstances. The heart of the film is a moving examination of a variety of father issues. But, on the way the audience is treated to a re-creation of Rogers's neighborhood through animation and by re-playing typical scenes from his TV shows which are powerfully affecting. Unfortunately for me, I'm too old to have been one of Rogers's viewers as a child...watching last year's documentary about the real Fred Rogers was as close as I came to discovering the real person. And there will definitely be people put off by the fundamental misdirection of the film...that it is about their beloved Mr. Rogers. Instead it is far richer than the usual biopic and actually delves into the human condition...more than being just about one man of TV fame. Bravo, to all involved!

This optimistic, heartening documentary is like an episode of TV's Cops without the uniforms and guns. Ernie and Joe are long-time members of the San Antonio, TX police force...two of the small (but growing) mental health unit charged with helping people in public crisis situations rather than jailing them. As partners, they deal with suicides in progress, psychotic breakdowns, and other manifestations, by talking and relating, referring to mental health clinics, and importantly by following up and encouraging recovery and normalcy in those they had dealt with and helped. They also spend time teaching police academy cadets: "most police departments spend 60 hours teaching how to handle a gun and less than 8 hours in how to handle people in crisis." But the San Antonio department is spending 40 hours on the subject with its cadets, many of those hours attending lectures by Ernie and Joe.

The film follows the pair in action; but additionally delves into their lives (Joe is an ex-Marine and recovered abused child, who is especially forthcoming and moving analyzing his life experiences in an on-screen TED talk.) The film's action sequences are well shot, mostly in long takes, with the subjects fuzzed out in the distance, yet their anguish clearly heard on microphone. This is the essence of a feel-good, positive documentary: flawed but good cops who are doing groundbreaking, important work helping people whom society normally shuns and mistreats.

For over 85 years, two East Los Angeles hi-schools situated 5 miles apart have fostered an impassioned football rivalry with an annual game called The Classic. The schools, Roosevelt and Garfield, are predominantly Latino, in keeping with their traditional neighborhoods (however, Garfield has opened its football program to students bused from the black neighborhoods of South L.A., including their star quarterback.) This involving documentary covers nine months of each school's preparation for the game, centering on 4 players and their coaches...and culminating with the game itself. The students are well chosen for diversity, with interesting individual stories. My own city, Los Angeles, also plays an important role...the game embodies many of the contemporary and contradictory social currents (e.g. "dreamers" and the undocumented) that affect life here...even as the issues seems somewhat remote to a white West-sider like myself. The film is particularly well edited to add drama and narrative propulsion, even though fate in the form of a well fought, tight-score culminating game wasn't in the cards. However the people stories were well enough chosen and covered to sustain my interest.

This is an Agatha Christie who-done-it made with some clever political and sociological patter that is intended to make it completely contemporary to 2019. As such, despite the large and star-filled cast of fine actors and the creepy mansion, it just seemed too clever by half trying to update and modernize the usual narrative tropes of this type of drama. Still, even though the plot barely holds water with all its convoluted reversals, it's an enjoyable film to watch. Writer-director Rian Johnson is committed to updating the kind of ensemble film that Robert Altman was so good at making...and he almost succeeds.

I'm not allowed to review this film by Academy rules. Still, this is a moving travelogue of a film about an almost supernaturally clever horse that bonded with a young boy on the steppes of Mongolia. Note my rating for an editorial comment as to its quality as a film.

How to trivialize the very real-world, vital issue of white cop violence against blacks during routine traffic stops? Make an over-the-top, Afro-American "Bonnie and Clyde" in the "Badlands" road-trip melodrama which exaggerates everything and solves nothing. At least the actors (Daniel Kaluuya and Jodie Turner-Smith) were attractive and compelling. Can't say the same for the flick.

Vroooom! For the sheer spectacle of experiencing the thrill of 1960s grueling formula one racing at Le Mans and Daytona, this film is hard to beat. Watch it on a big screen with great sound and you won't be disappointed. But, as a people story it also surprisingly excels. Ford Motor Co. under Henry Ford II (emphasis on II), under pressure to combat a surging General Motors and compare his legacy to his famous grandfather (Henry Ford I), was convinced by his underlings to challenge Italian Enzo Ferrari, king of the Euro racing circuit with his hand tooled super machines, for the prestige of producing the fastest and best competition motor cars of any type in the world. To do this, Ford "Deuce" (a small but striking role for Tracy Letts) hired Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon), who designed specialty cars and once actually won Le Mans, to make the car and hire the crew to win Le Mans for Ford. Shelby in turn hired maverick driver Ken Miles (Christian Bale), who was too rough at the edges for some Ford managers. And with many ups and downs, the race was on. Thus the people drama; and mostly because of the quality of the acting, the film actually wasn't just another cliché auto racing flick, rather a gripping story of personal triumph and tragedy that is every bit exciting as the superbly realized (with a minimum of special effects) racing footage.

When I was at university in the early 1960s my roommate was heavily into jazz (I was into opera and classical...and our dorm room was a battlefield over the use of the stereo.) Frank loved John Coltrane, Bill Evans, Miles Davis et al. And in the spirit of brotherhood, I accompanied him to a few jazz nights in Manhattan, to experience live performances by the masters that he loved and I couldn't quite get into. Over the years, I've never managed to acquire a love for jazz; but this comprehensive, chronological overview of the career and music of the great Miles Davis still had the power to fascinate.

The documentary utilized fast paced photo montages to set the years, an actor's voice-over to narrate the biographical material from Davis's own written words, interviews with ex-wives and contemporary musician survivors, and a music track solely comprised of Davis's extraordinary (even to a non-fan) cool jazz compositions. I was increasingly mesmerized by the music in the film, as it became more inventive and unique over the years. The biographical information was unsparingly revealing...Davis was not a great person, just a great and obsessive artist. By the end of this documentary, I actually found myself wishing that I had spent more time over the years listening to Davis's jazz.

In a hospital in a suburb of Damascus, Syria that has been besieged, carpet bombed and chlorine gassed by government and Russian forces for years, struggling doctors and nurses take to underground caves under the city to continue to treat wounded civilians. The film centers on a woman pediatrician, Dr. Amani, who celebrates her 30th birthday in a subdued party on camera. Hajib-wearing Amani has been elected managing director of the hospital, despite the entrenched sexism of the Muslim society. Her mandate (and that of the other dedicated health professionals) is to serve and survive as their world collapses around them. The carnage and the psychological toll on all is graphically presented in this powerful film. This isn't the first, nor IMO the best of the current spate of documentaries that cover the disastrous civil wars in Syria. It suffers slightly in comparison to the similar besieged hospital film seen earlier this year, For Sama. And truth be told, it had a scattered, unfocused editorial schema that became tedious at times. However, there is no denying the importance of telling the story of the horrors depicted here, and the dedication of both the subjects of the film and the imperiled film makers themselves.

I could go on and on about how astonishingly well written, acted and directed this film is and still not do it justice. So I'm not even going to try. It's the story of an amicable divorce that goes nuclear over things like custody of the child, over diverging careers, over simple but complex things about where each partner plans to live, over blame. Every actor is at the top of their game...and an auteur film maker, Noah Baumbach, who has always had great potential, finally achieves sublimity.

A drugged-out, self-destructive 22-year old actor reviews his life in rehab. He recalls being a 12-year old TV star, whose substance abusing and overbearing father controlled his life and career. What makes this story distinctive is that the script was written by that very same, real-life 12 and 22 year old, Shia LaBeouf, who had the audacity and authenticity to play his own father (disclaimer: "not based on real people" in the end crawl is slightly not true.) What also distinguishes the film is that the three principal characters are played by, arguably, the best actors of their respective generations: LaBeouf, Lucas Hedges and Noah Jupe. It is a pleasure and a privilege to be able to watch these three actors scintillate on screen...thanks to the generous direction of Alma Har'el. Often, this isn't an easy film to watch...child abuse isn't pretty. But it may just be the most honest, heart-felt and revealing film of the year.

500 years ago, Columbus first imported tomato seeds into Europe. Some of these seeds arrived in a small valley in central Greece, and the farmers around the villiage of Elias kept the strain intact, even while predatory companies like Monsanto were hybridizing tomato seeds for the Americas and the rest of the world. This story is often recounted by the two cousins who, along with several old ladies remaining in the largely abandoned agricultural village, are organically cultivating the tomatoes grown from these original seeds and attempting to market their products worldwide.

This informative and vaguely disturbing documentary tells the story of this small Greek farming collective, where the tomatoes are grown with love by streaming classical music (and also some Greek traditional music) into the fields to encourage the plants to grow and prosper. Can a small start-up farm compete in the world market? That's the drama implied in this documentary. Unfortunately, I watched this film the day after watching another similarly themed farming-ecology documentary from neighboring Macedonia, Honeyland. As entertaining as Wagner's music might have been for the tomato plants, the impact of this film paled in comparison to the previously watched documentary. The actual world is unfair to some farmers, even as it is also unfair to some film makers.

This beautiful and touching documentary recounts the quotidian experiences of 60-something Hatidze, who lives with her infirm 85-year old mother in a deserted village in the mountainous steppes of Macedonia. Hatidze collects and cultivates wild bee hives and sells jars of her honeycomb infused honey in nearby farmers' markets. When a family of Turkish nomads settle in her area and start their own competitive bee raising, ignoring Hatidze's conservation advice, a mini-ecological disaster ensues.

The cinematography is extraordinary...every composition gorgeous. The small film crew captured action and nuances over the lengthy time-span of the film making with amazing skill. The film plays like a perfectly constructed narrative film, telling a moving story that has universal relevance and a cohesive structure rare in documentary film making. I've allowed the affect of this film to grow in my mind over the past couple of days before writing this review...and I've raised my final rating of the film to 5-stars, in retrospect. That doesn't happen very often.

Actually the most stress I've ever felt watching a film. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing. Adam Sandler is remarkable as Howard, a Jewish NYC jewel broker, fixer, gambler and unfaithful family man. He got himself into a complex, escalating situation of grave jeopardy involving debts, basketball gambling and a valuable Ethiopian opal. The Safdie brothers directed the non-stop, suspenseful, harrowing action with their usual verve...fast paced dialog, an excellent, frenetic musical score, a camera in constant motion. It was too much for me. I hated the film for putting me through such angst; and then I loved it for how viscerally it tied my stomach up in knots. For better or for worse, this was an experience of powerful film making.

After 9/11, the CIA embarked on a policy of "enhanced interrogation" (i.e. illegal torture) of captured middle-easterners in secret dark sites. This muck-raking drama tells the story of a six-year investigation by the Senate Intelligence sub-committee (under the leadership of chairwoman Dianne Feinstein) into the truth of the torture allegations. The small investigating group was headed by staffer Daniel Jones, and the result of their efforts was a 6000+ page report that has never been released, a scandal in itself.

Adam Driver is convincing as the driven investigator; and Annette Bening gives a superb and subtle rendition of the California senator. The film tells a remarkably cogent and seemingly realistic story of government malfeasance both in operating the interrogations and covering up the fact that the techniques used were known to be ineffective. Re-creations of actual torture scenes (hard to watch, but artfully done) emphasized the brutality. All in all, in the current adversarial political climate, this film will probably be perceived as having a liberal bias. However some of the worst of what was done in the wake of 9/11 certainly deserves disclosure; and this film does it dispassionately and well.

39-year old Eline Farideh Konig was abandoned in an Iranian shrine at age 6-months and sent to an orphanage. She was adopted and raised in the Netherlands by a loving Dutch couple; but as time passed she longed to discover her roots and find her birth family. When three Iranian families responded hopefully to her internet quest, Konig traveled to Iran for a month of DNA testing. That is the story told in this involving, frequently moving documentary from Iran that is steeped in two cultures: middle-east and west. The film is immaculately filmed and edited, showing in turns the stories that the three families recounted to Ms. Konig to explicate the desertion of the baby. Tension builds. This is verité non-fiction film making as absorbing as finely crafted drama.

Based on Charles Brandt's true crime novel, "I Heard You Paint Houses," [i.e. a mob hit-man], this gritty, meditative (but fast-paced) film tells the well researched story of Frank "The Irishman" Sheeran (a possibly career capping role for Robert de Niro). Sheeran was an assassin and enforcer for the Italian mob, who is thought by the FBI to have offed Teamster ex-President Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), whose body was never found. The film is a 3 1/2 hour epic film noir that is arguably the supreme achievement of director Martin Scorsese's career of making classic mobster film noirs.

The film's casting and craftsmanship are superb (including great cinematography and steady-cam work by Rodrigo Prieto, a surprisingly original score by The Band's Robbie Robertson, and 309 separate scenes featuring authentic period production design over the several decades that the film covered.) But the interesting technical achievement was a groundbreaking multi-camera special effect which effectively de-aged the actors (portraying their younger selves to some degree.) It worked to the point that eventually it stopped being a special effect and just looked real.

I feel like making a special shout-out for the performance of Joe Pesci, brought out of semi-retirement to play the vital role of Russ Buffalino, Sheeran's friend and a mafia fixer. In a cast of superlative actors, many of them Scorsese regulars, Pesci stood out for me. But probably Scorsese's greatest achievement (along with that of his editor Thelma Schoonmaker) was that the film, for all its length without intermission, never slowed down or allowed my interest to flag. This high-budget Netflix film will probably work fine as a streaming experience; but it sure looks great on the big screen!

Personal note: Pedro Almodóvar is a favorite director of mine. I've watched on the big screen 20 of his films, some more than once (all of his films since 1982). However, not until this new "autofiction" (Almodóvar's term for a film that is loosely autobiographically based), did I realize how much resonance that my own life has had with that of the great film maker auteur, who is 8 years younger than I. Not that I'm putting myself anywhere in his class as a personage of note...that would be ridiculous. Just that this film had me constantly squirming in my seat from the shock of recognition of similarities with my life, almost déjà vu in their power to jog personal memories. In order to view this film dispassionately and objectively, I will have to watch it a 2nd time...although that may be too difficult for me to experience.

Thus, I'm not officially reviewing this beautiful, evocative, remarkably written and acted autofictional drama, other than to state my total admiration for Almodóvar's truthfulness and bravery; and for the performances of the remarkable actors (Antonio Banderas, young Asier Flores, Leonardo Sbaraglia, Penélope Cruz, Julieta Serrano, Asier Etxeandia, and César Vicente among others) who contributed to the realism and power of this film.

I was a boy, so I missed out on the vicarious thrills of Alcott's "Little Women" when I was an impressionable kid. However, it is never too late. Greta Gerwig's sumptuous, immaculately cast, and totally absorbing period film transported me to the frenetic world of mid-19th century Concord, MA as few films have. Her script seamlessly told the parallel story of four vividly portrayed sisters in adolescence and young womanhood, deftly combining career and marriage concerns with both a contemporary to its era and a psychologically modern spin. The production design, the costumes, the cinematography, the acting were all first-rate. Maybe because the story seemed fresh to me, I was thrilled and moved, rooting for each sister and their occasional beaux to develop (or sadly not) into their adulthood. That's all I'm going to say. Clearly this was a passion project for Gerwig, who gathered an ideal group of committed actors and made the exactly appropriate Little Women for this era. I hope it finds an appreciative audience.

I'd love to review this affecting, well-made Danish filmed melodrama which both attracted and repelled me. But the Academy embargoes reviews of films watched at the official International Feature Oscar screenings.

David Michôd's remarkably visual, epic costume drama parallels portions of Shakespeare's Henry IV and V, but updates the speech patterns and gives the actual 15th century history a modern spin of tyrannical rulership by absolute monarchy. It featured a fascinating portrayal of a youthful new king of England, once a wastrel nearly disinherited by his father, who upon ascending the throne faced a fractured country and internal intrigues leading to war with France.

Timothée Chalamet, in another career topping role, gives it everything he has...convincing forcefulness, feral intelligence, a physical strength that belies his scrawniness. It is very different from previous incarnations of Henry V by Branagh and Olivier...by emphasizing his initial inexperience and a wily interior quality which enabled him to evolve from the callowness of youth to become a ruthless tyrant while remaining an admirable warrior and leader. If the depiction had any flaw it might have been the speed that the new king achieved his maturity...but medieval monarchy probably was forcefully maturing, so the script may just have gotten this facet of his character right after all.

Also differing from the previous versions is Joel Edgerton's creation of Falstaff...here a brawny carouser at the start, then seamlessly progressing to becoming a heroic soldier and vitally important military advisor to the warrior king. Other performances were also impressive: particularly Ben Mendelsohn as the dying Henry IV and Robert Pattinson as the dandified French Dauphin enemy (complete with a strange, but convincing French accent.)

To say this film impressed me with its scope and historical resonance is an understatement. It is being presented mainly as a Netflix streaming TV event. However, the vast panorama of the Agincourt battle and the lush depiction of the period court life, along with a superior sound mix of effects and music, all call for watching on the big screen to appreciate the scope and grandeur. Director Michôd in Q&A indicated that he very much wanted to shoot on film...but was surprised and pleased by the multi-camera digital cinematography demanded for the Netflix release. I'm just glad that I was able to watch this intimate epic at full size.

In the late 19th Century, two major figures: Thomas Edison, genius inventor; and George Westinghouse, entrepreneur businessman, went to war over which current (Edison's direct or Westinghouse's alternating) would be best for wiring the country to handle the upcoming ubiquity of Edison's electric light bulb invention. Another genius, immigrant Nikola Tesla, was involved at various times with both warriors...but mainly on the side of alternating current, which he would eventually tame with his turbine invention.

Benedict Cumberbatch gave an animated, almost manic mien to his Edison portrayal, while Michael Shannon was reserved and determined as Westinghouse. Nicholas Hoult, in a subsidiary role as Tesla, radiated intelligence and enthusiasm. And a surprisingly mature Tom Holland sporting mutton chops, also made an impact as Edison's assistant, Samuel Insull. In addition to the immaculately chosen cast, the production design and other technical credits were outstanding...especially thrilling was the re-creation of the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago, which introduced mass electric lighting to the world. However, the script, which has been significantly reedited by the director after a poor reception at the 2017 Toronto film festival, still sometimes bogged down in telling the story of the feud, halting the dramatic progression with too much repetition of the petty manipulations of the combatants. Still, the plot was novel and intriguing enough to hold my interest throughout.

In the late 19th century, two workers named Tom were transported to a rocky island off the Maine coast to serve a 4 week intensive tour of duty tending a storm tossed lighthouse. The film is basically a two person drama (Willem Dafoe as the grizzled, experienced elder; and Robert Pattenson, playing the younger laborer with a checkered past.) I was impressed by the spectacular (and loud) sound design and the fine B&W cinematography. But the script and direction were just too over-the-top violent and unrealistic to actually enjoy the film. There's a word for this: pretentious. The film excelled at that.

Natalie Portman may be a fine actor; but in the role of astronaut Lucy Cola (a modified version of events in the life of real-life astronaut Lisa Marie Nowak who had a strange breakdown over a romantic tiff in 2007), her Texas accent strays throughout the film almost as often as the film goes haywire along with its main character.

For me, the story lacked plausibility. Despite some fine special effects, realistically depicting NASA flights and training exercises, the plot lacked the necessary psychological realism to justify the actions of the characters. This was a fatal flaw; and I truly disliked the script and the resulting film. Even fine, if unmemorable performances by Jon Hamm and Dan Stevens as the male figures in Lucy's life couldn't save the film. Director Hawley, and his screwball sensibility (gleaned from previous watching of Legion and Fargo) just wasn't a good fit for this script (which must have initially been a good enough script to attract such acting talent.) Too bad!

I am embargoed from reviewing films that I've watched in official Academy "International Features Oscar" screenings.

In this gentle, but pointed, comic satire set in Germany at the end of World War II, 10-year old, fatherless Jojo Betzler (a superbly animated, age-appropriate performance by actor Roman Griffin Davis) subscribes wholeheartedly to the allure of organized Hitler Youth. He even conjures up an imaginary friend, a child's fantasy of Adolf Hitler (portrayed by the director, Taika Waititi) to serve as comic foil to the horrors surrounding the innocent boy. The complex plot includes the hiding of a Jewish girl in the family's attic, the deaths of those dear to the young boy, a realistic view of the travails of the imperiled village as the allies surround the city, and a biting parody of Nazism worthy of Chaplin.

Waititi has proven in the past to be a brilliant director of young boys (for instance Julian Dennison in Hunt for the Wilderpeople); but here he outdoes himself with his fortunate discovery in young Davis. But no less interesting are the comical Nazi portrayals by character actors Sam Rockwell, Rebel Wilson and Stephen Merchant, caricatures to be sure, but pointed ones. It takes guts and skill to make a successful comedy about Nazism. Roberto Benigni didn't quite pull it off (IMHO) with Life is Beautiful. But with this film, Waititi has provided just the right mixture of satire and pathos to produce a totally diverting entertainment out of abject misery.

This brilliant "upstairs/downstairs" contemporary Korean sociological satire is both occasionally funny and always trenchant. However, it had a few too many perceived plot contrivances that kept me from raising it to the exalted level that its lauded critical reception and awards have given it. Still, it is a fun, if ultimately queasy, watch with fine acting and an incredible production design (apparently all the extraordinarily realistic locations were built on sound stages, a fact that elicited gasps from the knowledgeable Academy audience that watched the Q&A afterwards.) Director Bong Joon-ho is an original talent who seemingly never repeats a genre. Here he is playing in the kind of family dramedy field that the Japanese auteur Hirokazu Kore-eda has almost made his own (compare this to last year's equally brilliant Shoplifters.) It is to Bong's credit that he gives it such an original, black comedy spin.

Linda Ronstadt at her peak was a uniquely talented singer. She enjoyed success in several fields: rock, pop, country, folk, Mexican mariachi, even operetta. Her vast range and peerless tone was brought to a premature ending by inherited Parkinson's, which left her unable to sustain a note, or even sing at all. This entertaining and revelatory, if conventionally structured, bio-documentary tells her story, using some amazing performance videos and interviews with the present day Ronstadt and several of her famous peers (among them: her contemporary singing buddies Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Bonnie Raitt, and more male luminaries from the L.A. music scene than I could list here.) I have to admit that much of this information was new to me...even though I was involved peripherally in the L.A. music video scene. I was never a particular fan of Ronstadt's music back in the '70s and '80s...yet just about all of her big hits performed in this film were totally familiar to me. And her many live performances from various times in her career, generously presented in lengthy filmed segments, were nothing less than scintillating. Surprise!

A madman, possibly the real Joker of the DC universe, but more likely an insane exhibitionist who provided a template for the evil villain of the Batman story to copycat, briefly terrorizes the city, or somewhat fantasizes his way to infamy. That's the story that I think I watched (although the film is maddeningly ambiguous about separating truth from fantasy.)

The good: technically the film is superb. Lawrence Sher's cinematography is appropriately bleak and leached of color and intensified in contrast, to heighten the horror aspects of the plot. Hildur Guðnadóttir's eerie and propulsive score also underlines the shock value of the plot (although the period song score, featuring Sinatra songs among others, is occasionally too unsubtle and on-point.) The clown makeup is significantly careless and smeary to add realism to the demented character. And Juaquin Phoenix's commitment to his characterization is more than admirable...actually so convincing as to be literally career capping despite its unredeeming evil nature.

Now the bad: The nihilism of the plot, the intended intensifying of the specter of social upheaval in today's U.S., is dangerously subversive (no matter how exaggerated this tawdry picture of Gotham City circa 1980s is portrayed). Who knows what effect it will have on some deranged sociopath in today's climate of gun violence? Then again, like violent video games, there's a chance the possibly imagined dream-like unreality of the film making might provide an outlet of fantasy fulfillment to lessen the dangerous impact. Hard to say. Bottom line: technically an interestingly experimental genre film that presents a socially dicey spectacle that I found personally repugnant.

This documentary short presents the obsessive preparations of a group of African Americans living in the New Orleans suburbs, for the upcoming Mardi Gras parade. They construct elaborate beaded and feathered costumes; and the film features their toiling along with voice over narration which helps to explain the whys and hows of their preoccupation. Then the viewer travels with these men to the city for a cursory look at the actual Mardi Gras event. It is a view of an intriguingly different lifestyle; but I just wasn't interested enough in the process and results to get much from the film.

This unconventional, but intriguing, documentary describes the five-month process of moving the contents of a lifetime of collecting things by pack-rat, octogenarian commercial photographer, Jay Maisel. In 1966, Maisel bought a 6-story abandoned bank building in the Bowery section of Manhattan for $102,000, a century-old landmark which he turned into his home and studio. Additionally, over the years he filled its 72 rooms with a varied collection of junk and treasured items, along with literally tens of thousands of photos (slides and proofs) immaculately stored in the old bank vault. However, in his late 80s, Maisel decided that the upkeep of the building had become unsustainable. So he sold the building for a paltry $55 million, and he and his wife had 5 months to move the dozens of truckloads of stuff, supervising a constant stream of movers and making hard decisions as to what to keep and move, and what to abandon.

Enter film director, Stephen Wilkes, himself a photographer and one of Maisel's first assistants and a long-time friend. Wilkes had shot films of the beginnings of the project of filling up the bank building when he worked for Maisel, which provided a good starting point for a documentary about Maisel. Then, in 2015, when the big move was scheduled, he started to film the complex relocation process along with interviewing Maisel, his wife, and the grown daughter who had been brought up in the thoroughly not-baby-proofed unconventional home. I found the entire process fascinating: from getting to know Maisel's life story and his prolific and obsessive photography career and collection mania, to the actual moving chores and the subsequent resolution of the move. Perhaps part of my fascination was due to my own struggles with a lifetime of accumulating "stuff" and what to do with it all as I approach my 80s. But I'm a gnat compared to Maisel's elephant. Anyway, the documentary both entertained, and in a way educated and informed me. Nice job, interesting film.

A Thai couple lost their adorable 2-year old daughter to a fatal brain cancer. This intriguing, humanistic documentary tells of the family's attempt to preserve their daughter's future by cryogenic freezing after her death, despite their Buddhist belief that her reincarnation might be interfered with. The film is also the family's testament of their love for Einz that is to be safely stored for their daughter's viewing when and if she is revived sometime in the future.

An intriguing detail is that this is a family of scientists: the girl's father is a laser scientist. The girl's older brother, Matrix, is a 16 year old science prodigy, who loved his little sister and is dedicated to be around and instrumental when she is reborn into a regenerated body sometime in the future when her cancer can be cured. However, the more the young man studies the process, the more doubts are raised about the process of recovering the memories which would define her rebirth.

The film is beautifully made, superb cinematography and editing. But for all the fascinating information it contains, its message is ambiguous and sad. Still, this is an admirable family to spend time with, no matter how Quixotic their quest seems fated to be.

This is a film that is technically proficient: fine cinematography, convincing performances (J-Lo's pole dancing deserves a revered spot in film history), assured direction. Basically it's an admirable retelling of the The Big Short 2008 economic bust story from the revenge driven points of view of several "working women" victims. Yet I really disliked the film for its ethical ambiguity and pseudo-feminist straight male bashing. OK, I went knowing this wasn't going to be my cuppa...female pulchritude isn't by bag. But I left the theater feeling particularly dissatisfied and morally compromised. Still, I have to rate the film as above average as cinema despite despising the experience of watching it.

For me, this beautifully shot and well acted sci fi film had too many dangling plot problems and physics flaws to get behind totally. Yes, a taciturn Brad Pitt and a convincingly insane Tommy Lee Jones made a nicely difficult father-son relationship. Yes, the zero gravity scenes and most of the special effects were realistic enough (although I could quibble with the Lunar and Martian gravity effects.) But the lack of narrative cohesion kept bringing me out of the story (why are bandits loose on the Moon's surface? why waste Donald Sutherland in a totally dead-end father substitute role? why are feral monkeys loose in outer space? why hint at alien involvement without any payoff? why ignore planetary orbital positions in plotting space travel routes?). I could go on; but this film badly needed an expert science advisor even more than a script doctor. James Gray is a fine director; but he is no Stanley Kubrick. And co-writer Ethan Gross is no Arthur C. Clarke. Too bad.

David Crosby is exactly two weeks older than I; and we both traveled in parallel (but never coinciding) industry circles. That may be why this bio-documentary hit me so hard. The querulous singer/songwriter/personality of the Byrds, CSN and CSNY (do I really have to spell out the last two?) was at the center of the L.A. pop music scene for decades; and despite failing health he's still going. This fascinating bio-doc follows the present day Crosby as he re-lives on camera his life and friendships (and copious enmities), traveling with and being interviewed by the documentary's producer, Cameron Crowe, whose history as rock journalist and film maker is ideally suited to this gig. But it also is rich with seldom seen footage from past events and concerts that provide an interesting overview of the pinnacle of pop music success and the ravages of drug addiction. For all his physical decay, Crosby is still amazingly energetic and acute at verbalizing his history and relationships. He may be a total a*hole; but the story he recounts on film is incredibly revealing.

It is harder than it looks to take a long-running TV series and seamlessly turn it into a stand-alone big screen film. Deadwood couldn't quite pull it off, a comedy like Entourage certainly couldn't. However trust writer Julian Fellowes (who conceptualized the previously ended "Masterpiece Theater" series that updated and improved on the 1970s era British soap opera Upstairs,Downstairs) to succeed spectacularly. What a smart, clever, involving pleasure it was to see this story of the 1920s era royal visit to Yorkshire transposed beautifully to wide screen perfection. Credit the huge cast, the skilled behind the scenes professionals (amazing costumes, makeup, hairstyles, score, cinematography, pomp and circumstance as only the British Royal Equerry could provide), and the grand homes and grounds of the English countryside. One can only pray that a big screen sequel is in the works!

Renée Zellweger's uncanny impersonation of Judy Garland in her last year of life, playing dinner theater in London away from her beloved children, is reason enough to watch this film. But this dramatized bio-film also delves into another era of her life, when L.B. Mayer took the fledgling star of The Wizard of Oz and broke her spirit with drugs and destructive discipline. The film alternates superficially instructive scenes from the two time-lines, and in the process degenerates into psychobabble hokum and melodrama. But ignoring the plot, the viewer is treated to an amazingly realistic window into the magic that was this live wire performer as she battled her demons. I should know, since I witnessed two Garland shows in Vegas as a teenager (my dad must have subliminally known I was a "friend of Dorothy" when he treated me to ringside seats.) And one time I encountered the real Judy at a Hollywood news stand when she was at a career low point...and truth be told, at that time she was somewhat overweight, something that the film takes pains to deny.

OK, enough of that irrelevant gossip. Every time Zellweger took the stage I was transformed into a raving Judy fan again. And her final number had me in tears, a well earned emotional catharsis. No film that does that is to be disparaged. Especially one that creates the era with amazing fidelity; transforms the actress with fabulous makeup, prosthetics and costumes; and does such a fine job of casting actors who sell their roles with perfection. It was two hours of magical entertainment well spent...if one ignores the trite script.

David Finkelstein is an Orthodox Jew, a neurotic 20-something ex-Yeshiva student who has taken up the practice of doing stand-up comedy in New York City clubs and bars. But not on the sabbath! This documentary short follows him as he plies his hobby, traveling by subway, ruminating on his life, enjoying times with his comedy buds (definitely not kosher types!), doing his self-effacing comedy act. As time goes on while doing the film, he obviously starts to come out of his shell a bit. He's a likable guy, clever, soft spoken, undemonstrative...I even laughed out loud at his comedy shticks. And I'm a tough sell. Can an observant Orthodox boy survive in the world of New York stand-up? Watch this fun film and find out.

In this documentary short, an elderly Polish couple connect their helmets by radio and go skiing. They chat a bit traveling up the slope by T-bar, then trip when arriving at the top. It becomes apparent that the husband is blind (his point-of-view shots are white-out obscured), and the wife is sighted, but not 100%. Nevertheless the wife directs her husband as they ski down the mountain. That's about it. The dialogue is sort of inconsequential at first; but then when the skiing actually starts, things get tense and interesting. The cinematography is outstanding, especially the point-of-view sequences. Nice and short and somewhat affecting...they're an attractive and even admirable elderly couple trying to overcome their disabilities.

This documentary short is comprised of a series of interviews with masked Muslim youths living in the Houston suburb of Sugar Land. They recount their recollection of their schoolmate and friend "Mark," unlike them, a black non-Muslim kid who took seriously the teachings of Islam and joined ISIS in Syria. Or did he? The interviewed kids were questioning whether "Mark" might have been an FBI plant, placed among these thoroughly Americanized, concerned and scared youths, and whose pro-ISIS Facebook posts might not even be real. It's an intriguing peek into the situation that these more or less secularized young men are living through.

I can't rate this 4-hour documentary about several Indian martyrs of the anti-faith, anti-caste, pro-reason movement of the sub-continent's far left. I was required to watch it...but after about half of its confusing and hard to relate to narrative, I bailed. I just couldn't follow where the film makers were going, nor did I have enough of the background in Indian politics to care. My bad. I would encourage others who do have this background to watch the film, as it is obviously a well researched and comprehensive polemic about issues vital to conflicts in the region.

This bio-documentary asks and answers the question: was the notorious Roy Cohn the most evil American of the 20th Century? Sure, he was a disbarred mob lawyer, a power broker and fixer for crooked New York real estate moguls, mentor to demagogues like Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon and the ambitious young poseur Donald Trump. His motto was deny, deny, lie, lie...which his disciple The Donald later took to heart with his plaintive plea: "Where is my Roy Cohn?" as he wiggled out of scandal after scandal as the 45th President of the United States.

The film was filled with informative and illuminating film clips from Cohn's life as a media fixture on gossipy Page 6 and TV news and talk shows. It also featured interviews with Cohn's various relatives and some of his famous critics over the years (but none from possible supporters such as Barbara Walters, his long-time beard, and Donald Trump, who declined to take part in the film.) It was all fascinating and convincing; but after visiting Cohn's world this viewer just felt soiled and dispirited. Still, watching Cohn operate, it sure does help one understand where Trump learned the lying and denial tactics that daily fill his tweets and press relations.

In 1983, the first dedicated AIDS ward was established on the 5th floor of the San Francisco General Hospital. This emotionally resonant documentary tells the story of that ward from the point of view of the nurses who were ground-breakers in providing compassionate, hands-on care for the dying victims...even before it was evident that HIV was difficult to transmit. The film contains remarkable contemporary footage from the 1980s of patients and their families, along with past and present day interviews with several of the nurses and supervisors at the heart of Ward 5B. It is beautifully researched and edited, altogether an important addition to the history of the gay movement and a testament to the unsung heroism of certain medical people at the critical height of the AIDS epidemic.

[Personal note: I lived through the AIDS era in Los Angeles as the partner and caregiver of an ill patient who succumbed to the disease, as did many of my other friends. I spent many hours at L.A. General Hospital over several years, supporting my partner, coping with his illness along with him, until he died in my arms the year before the effective meds which changed everything appeared (fortunately I remained HIV negative.) I knew personally some of the brave medical people who dealt with the disease (including a close friend who actually worked as a nurse at San Francisco General.) This film, although as well made as it was, probably would not have been given a 5-star review had I not felt such a personal connection to the subject. Sometimes a documentary just hits so close to home that it transcends a mere movie experience.]

Morris (Moe) Berg was a noted celebrity in the first half of the 20th century. Born in 1902 of striving, Ukrainian Jewish immigrant parents, adept at baseball enough to make the majors for 15 seasons as a player and manager, a graduate of Princeton and Columbia law school who passed the bar but never practiced law, was fluent in 10 or more languages, served in Europe as an active American spy for the OSS (progenitor of the CIA) during WWII, a lady's man who never married. Those are just the highlights of this intriguing bio-documentary of Berg's life and times.

The film is a triumph of editing...a chronological account that utilized all types of still photos and film footage. Berg shot his own films during his career and worldwide travels; but the film makers also chose a myriad of relevant scenes from Hollywood movies, well chosen archival stock footage that defined the times, and filmed interviews which spanned years and venues. The various elements were skillfully cut together to provide a continuous narrative of Berg's life...harder than it sounds to do it as seamlessly and continuously as the editor, Barbara Ballow, managed while following a schema by writer/director Aviva Kempner. The result is a fast paced and fascinating narrative that flowed smoothly along telling Berg's life story.

Netflix drops series into the Zeitgeist almost daily...and occasionally one hits the sweet spot of excellence, emotional resonance, and even importance. This eight-part story of a pair of female detectives in Colorado who take on the task of catching a clever serial rapist is a fine example of the crime procedural genre. But adding into the mix the story of a young victim who was also victimized by an unbelieving system adds poignancy and scope which raises the ante significantly. Kudos to the actors, who are inevitably going to be remembered at next year's Emmys (Tony Collette and Merritt Wever as the kind of unconventional, dedicated detectives who defied cliché characterizations, and Katelyn Dever, as the featured first victim of the perpetrator.) It is apparently based on a true story, but written with the structure of great drama. Don't miss this one.

First of all, I admit I had read the sprawling novel which told the story of this complex film, which helped to follow what the film makers kept obscured for most of the film's length. The story takes place in two time-lines: first, the childhood of the protagonist, Theo, who as a young teenager, survived a terrorist bombing of the New York Metropolitan museum which killed his mother and made him, effectively an orphan. The second story takes place a few years later, when the urbane young man has established a career as an antiques salesman with shady business practices and a secret stretching back to the disastrous bombing of his youth. I won't be discussing any more of the plot, even the explanation of the "Goldfinch" in the title (the subject of a 17th century Dutch painting by Carel Fabritius.)

Suffice it to say that I was enthralled once again by the complications of the story, so well acted by a superb cast (Oakes Fegley and Ansel Elgort were especially fine as the two incarnations of Theo; but Finn Wolfhard and Aneurin Bernard were equally well matched as the actors playing the two ages of his Ukrainian gangster friend Boris.) The subsidiary casting was just as excellent (especially Nicole Kidman, Jeffrey Wright and Luke Wilson as parent figures.) And director John Crowley brought both eras to life with his usual meticulous attention to details and nuance. However, the script was too sprawling...especially rushing through the adult story mostly by citing anecdotes rather than setting the scenes, leaving this viewer wanting more than the 2 1/2 hours which rushed by. For me, the story should have been stretched out a bit, especially in the adult time-line (more Ansel Elgort please!). This is one case for making a multi-episode miniseries out of a huge novel. Still, the film as is shown now deserves to be seen, especially on the big screen, for its dramatic effectiveness and sterling cast.

In 2016-17, Iraqi journalist Ali Maula was embedded with the forces (Kurds, Sunnis, Shiites, Christians, warlords, militias, regular army et al) who were battling to free the city of Mosul and surrounding area from the terror reign of Daesh (ISIS). Maula's low-keyed narration and numerous interviews with several of the leaders of the coalition forces (and one scary, captured ISIS leader) provided the film's continuity. But the lack of background information about the combatants along with the generalized fog of war made for a confusing narrative. Only when the cameramen bravely followed the forces as they battled to retake the city block by block under heavy fire, did the documentary soar. But for this viewer, at least, all the disparate elements never cohered, and I was more bored than informed.

This affecting bio-documentary recounts the tragically short life of actor/musician/personality Anton Yelchin through home videos, film and TV clips from his impressive career, and interviews with a series of familiar young fellow actors, directors, parents and friends. Yelchin, himself, was surprisingly intriguing. Behind the scenes he suffered from occasionally debilitating cystic fibrosis; but he never missed a day on set. His journals (illustrated here with amusing animation and narration) showed a questing intelligence, a loving personality, and a philosophical bent. Interestingly, he joined a list of meteoric talents who died at age 27...in this case victim of a preventable accident. If anything, this admiring film was over-stuffed with reasons for regretting his passing.

First of all, I didn't watch this poetic documentary at its high-speed 96fps projection on the big screen, as I'm sure would have been preferable. In fact, I watched it on video...to my regret. Still, the visuals and soundtrack were remarkable. Director Kossakovsky's intention was to portray water worldwide, in all its beauty, danger and majesty. No narration, no geographical references, almost no dialogue...only water: ice shelves, oceans, rivers, waterfalls, hurricanes, floods. The editing seemed frankly random, the soundtrack (natural sounds and music) spectacularly engulfing (even with my home speakers.) However, for all the good intentions, I was underwhelmed by the final film, feeling perplexed by the film's structure, occasionally bored by the soporific long takes, and worst of all at sea (to coin a phrase) as to the location and background of just about every scene. My first instinct upon finishing the film was to rush to Google to find out the details of the film that, for all their astonishing visual impact, still left me needing more explanatory material.

A disparate group of teenage rebel soldiers, charged with hiding a kidnapped American (Julianne Nicholson) in the Colombian mountains, play a mixture of kid's and war games with each other...games resembling in some ways those played by the ragtag adolescents of Lord of the Flies. Except these kids have AK-47s, and notably lax discipline. That is the set-up for a moral allegory set in the Colombia outback (the guerilla squadron soon moves from the mountains into the jungle, an even more predatory environment.) The film is emotionally affecting, even though it lacks a totally coherent narrative throughput. It isn't for the squeamish viewer, however...animals are killed and butchered, the adventure games turn deadly, horrors lurk around every corner. The film is fascinating and repellent by turns; but the acting (mostly by amateurs) and direction are assured enough to be convincing and worth the viewer's journey into darkness.

Yeah, I know what you might think...what are the chances that a Jew of my age has never seen Fiddler on the Roof on stage or on film? But having watched and utterly enjoyed this documentary about the background, origins, and various productions over the years of this fascinating property...listened again to the wonderfully memorable songs and experienced the remarkable choreography and dancing that Jerome Robbins created...just basked in this celebration of my own heritage that I missed out on in the 1960s because I was otherwise occupied...I can't help feeling that maybe I did watch the show back then after all. See this one on the big screen to get the thrill of discovery if you never saw the 1964 production or the 1971 Norman Jewison film. And even if you did, you'll be happy to learn about how and why it came about; and the stories of the people who created it. It's a remarkable documentary evoking a remarkable affection for a remarkable musical.

Brittany is a plus-size young woman whose doctor warns her that if she doesn't cope with her obesity that her health will suffer. So, despite the odds and her NYC dissipated lifestyle, she sets off to improve herself through running...with a long time goal of eventually finishing the famed NYC marathon (along with 50,000 other strivers.) Jillian Bell at first plays Brittany as the archetypal fat-girl quipster loser. But as she gradually sheds pounds on screen (nice physical commitment to the role), she makes new running friends out of a querulous older neighbor woman (Michaela Watkins), and an out of shape gay dad (Micah Stock). The characters are vivid and well written; and the narrative, although ultimately somewhat predictable, is still fun to watch with a positive message that feels well earned.

Cate Blanchette shines as a creative genius architect whose career has been stalled for years due to her neuroses and increasingly circumscribed family life...until circumstances caused her to escape to Antarctica (nicely portrayed by Greenland, which actually appears here to be worthy of being "Trump's folly") to find herself. That's the essence of the plot of this family dramedy which is diverting, even as it sometimes seems mired in unlikely script contrivances. What makes it worth watching is the acting and the spirited direction of just about my favorite current film director, Richard Linklater.

Three sixth grade suburban friends, part of a non-cool gang of 3, have a totally screwed up day of truancy and misadventures. The kids (realistically played by Jocob Tremblay, Brady Noon and Keith L. Williams) are given startlingly profane dialog which they nail; and the script is inventive and funny at times. It's sort of a tweener R-rated version of the 2007 film, Superbad. But it is also sweet and nicely tuned into the current Zeitgeist.

This illuminating documentary tells the saga of a Chinese industrial manufacturing company colonizing the United States to take advantage of cheaper, non-unionized labor and access to the American market. In 2016, Fuyao Glass America was founded in an old, recycled Studebaker plant in Dayton, Ohio (which coincidentally recently made the news as home to a shooting massacre.) Initially the massively unemployed former industrial workers were happy to have jobs. But the Chinese brought a very different sort of workplace: structured collectivist activities, radically reduced salaries, more cut-throat quota based schedules that were...um, sort of un-American. Chinese supervisors were brought to the U.S. to retrain American workers.

How the company progressed from major losses to eventual profit made for a fascinating, 21st century, rust-belt recovery story...well told verité style, nicely shot and edited. The film hearkens back to previous documentaries about industrial activism (such as Barbara Kopple's 1990 Oscar winner, American Dream.) But it is hard to find a more timely subject than a study of Chinese industrial practices imported into the U.S. Midwest, and the difficult renewal of the American industrial base in the Trump era.

If Huck Finn had Down Syndrome and his rafting companion Jim was a white cracker who poached crabs from their traps...then you'd have a rough idea of the story of this film. Young Zak (a promising debut performance by high-functioning Zack Gottsagen) has escaped from his nursing home to fulfill his dream of becoming a wrestler. He hooks up with the older, more worldly Tyler (Shia LaBeouf, taciturn and magnetic here), and together they explore the gorgeously photographed North Carolina outer banks, searching for the kid's unlikely wrestling glory as the fearsome Peanut Butter Falcon. It's actually a good script, nicely written and directed by relative newcomers Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz. Somehow they've constructed a feel-good, present-day film with a positive message about disabilities out of an old fashioned adventure story.

"The Kitchen" is a clever title: the story takes place in the Irish dominated Hell's Kitchen in the late 1970s; and the plot concerns meek mob molls who should be cooking in the kitchen rather than running protection rackets while their husbands are in prison. But let's for a second pretend that this 21st century notion of female empowerment actually was a thing in the 1970s. At least the three shrinking violets that turn into man-eating Venus fly-traps are played by only slightly miscast Melissa McCarthy, Tiffany Haddish and Elisabeth Moss, three ladies with sterling comic timing. And the most effective alpha male in the story is played by the suddenly hot, formerly beta-ish Domhnall Gleeson. But the weird thing is that I actually was entertained by this misbegotten script, with its propulsive song score that pegged its period perfectly. And credit the actors who somehow managed to spin gold out of straw-men.

First of all, I was not at Woodstock that weekend 50 years ago this August. My sister was there...a true hippie queen traveling by helicopter with her friends the Grateful Dead. However, I was at the more sedate music festival two years earlier, Monterey Pop, which has its own prominence in history.

Watching this contemporary Woodstock documentary that gets right into the mud of that dairy farm field from a present day perspective (unlike the documentary that stressed the music and won the Oscar the next year), I couldn't help but have the thrilling feeling that maybe I really WAS there after all, at least in spirit if not in body. It was a crazy event in a crazy time...and this film got it more or less crazy right. If you (and I assume that means everybody reading this "review") weren't actually there, you won't believe what the cameras and the cleverly edited narrative discloses here. But, the truth is that this was the apotheosis of Boomer Power...now a dirty word. But what a party it was!

A white couple (superb performances by Naomi Watts and Tim Roth, two of our finest contemporary film actors) adopted a troubled African orphan from war-torn Eritrea when he was 7, and for years following worked hard with therapists and child psychologists to integrate their son into American society. When the film opens, Luce (played by charismatic actor Kelvin Harrison, Jr., who for me seemed to slightly resemble physically a young O.J. Simpson, subtly carrying that baggage into the role) is a high achieving high school senior, valedictorian, champion runner, ideal college prospect. However, one of his teachers (also superbly played by Octavia Spencer), picks up warning signs pointing to Luce's hidden psychological problems, and notifies his parents of her observations. That is the set-up of a complex drama that explores race and child rearing issues in an upper middle-class urban setting. The film tackles hard issues of modern life; but it is also disturbingly ambiguous in its telling and resolution. That makes for effective drama, especially when it is so well acted and directed (Julius Onah gets every nuance right with his direction). But at a time when the American social fabric seems to be shredding with almost daily mass shootings and racial/immigrant tensions fomented from the very top, this film, for all its effective veneer of realism, is particularly unsettling.

Skin tells the based-on-true story of a young runaway, Bryon Widner, who about a decade ago fell into an Ohio based hate group family, the Vinlanders Social Club. Widner had his face, neck and body emblazoned with white power tattoos; and he became the face of white supremacy in clashes with black activists. Jamie Bell plays Widner, in a role of furious commitment, passion and body alterations. And eventually he is equally convincing in renunciation of his past (including months of painful tattoo removal.) Supporting players: Danielle Macdonald as Widner's earth mother love interest, Vera Farmiga and Bill Camp as leaders and "parent figures" of the hate cult of young men, are also fine. This is a film about terrible people and events, which are an eerie foreshadowing of today's headlines. As directed by Oscar winner Guy Nattiv (for last year's winning short film also called Skin, but with an entirely different story line), the film is hard hitting, difficult to watch at times, but somehow also uplifting.

This bio-documentary covers the life and times of American designer Roy Halston Frowick, who most of his creative life went by the single name Halston. He was a talented designer, born in rural Iowa, but who soon made his way to New York City. He first came to notice as a milliner at Bergdorf Goodman, where he supplied the pillbox hat and outfits that Jackie Kennedy made chic in the early 1960s. He had an eye for design and a skill at draping and pattern making. In the 1970s he formed his own atelier for high fashion; but he also had a nose for commerce, eventually selling his name to the Norton Simon Company and providing ready-to-wear products to the masses primarily through J.C. Penny. He also became a famous celebrity, hanging out with Liza, Warhol and the Studio 54 crowd. By the 1980s he was in decline as a haut couture designer, lost control of his company; and in the early 1990s he succumbed to AIDS.

The film presents its more or less chronological narrative through a somewhat clunky device of having a fictional narrator (Tavi Gevinson) play a contemporary archivist searching for materials about Halston (films, videos, interviews) which the film then presents. These excerpts are skillfully edited into a truly interesting and occasionally visually stunning tapestry of Halston's life and times. However the man himself resisted doing revealing interviews during his lifetime; and here he remains something of a personal cypher. It's almost impossible to avoid comparing this to last year's documentary McQueen, also about a genius designer who died prematurely. Maybe it was just McQueen's flamboyant idiosyncracies and impossibly innovative creations that made, for me at least, the superior film. But both films are definitely worth watching for their pure entertainment value.

Dr. Ruth Westheimer (nee Karola Ruth Siegel) is a fascinating nonagenarian. She's a Holocaust survivor, having been sent alone by her parents from Frankfort to Switzerland at age 10 by kindertransport. During the war she did menial jobs in an orphanage; and soon lost track of her parents and grandmother who perished early in the war. After the war she became a kabutznik in Palestine, and eventually made it to Paris, where she received a degree in psychology from the Sorbonne. In 1956 she emigrated to the U.S., studied and taught sociology, divorced twice and then married her soul mate, had 2 children and 4 grandchildren.

But that isn't why this documentary exists. In 1980, this diminutive (4'7") woman with a strong German accent debuted a late-night sex advice radio show in New York City. Her non-judgmental, sex positive rap soon caught listeners' imaginations; and by 1984 her show was syndicated nationally on NBC. She became a celebrity guest on talk TV, a lecturer, famous and beloved. This more or less chronological documentary tells her story, much in her own words and with interviews with her children. But the really entertaining material is comprised of videos of her sparkling personality exhibited in many venues over the years. This film is the fun equivalent of last year's popular Mr. Rogers bio-doc Won't You Be My Neighbor...heartfelt, positive, delightful.

Simply the best TV show I've watched in years and years. A British dystopian examination of the near future written by Russell T. Davies (who created Queer as Folk). Superb script, marvelous cast, an amazing score. HBO has done it again.

This documentary short was made in New Zealand as a Masters Thesis film for the Victoria University in Wellington. It contains a series of interviews with four homeless people (Al, Aroha, Ben and Craig), discussing their life stories and reasons that they are homeless. There is no narration, only the skillful intercutting of nicely photographed close-ups of the four subjects...organized by topic. The film is informative, the four subjects are interestingly verbal (one admits to being on the spectrum, another claims to be homeless as an experiment leading to a book, one is heavily tattooed and at odds with his family and society, and the lone woman was discriminated against.) The total effect, however, was low keyed and of minor interest.

Let's face it, the 3D animation, bringing photo-realistic animals to life, was an unparalleled technological marvel. It bodes well for the future of cinema. However, I was watching this with an intelligent 4-year old who had watched and loved the original animated version many times. And, oddly enough, after his first amazed reaction that "they're real!" his interest in the story seemed to lessen as the film continued.

This film continues the monetarily astute recent Disney practice of remaking their 2D animated films with live action actors (in this case, completely realistic animated animals who talk and react as if sentient.) The original 1994 Lion King was a modern day "Hamlet" like fable of a kingdom's regicide villainy avenged by the grown up prince, with a fine vocal cast and a memorable, spiritually uplifting song score mostly written by Tim Rice and Elton John. The remake is almost precisely the same film, with an equally fine vocal cast (importantly, James Earl Jones repeats his signature portrayal of Mufasa, the assassinated king, but all of the other roles are re-cast), and one new song sung by Beyoncé. But other than making an additional billion dollars for the Disney empire, there wasn't much of anything added by this remake. Ultimately, I was almost as uninvolved in the drama as my 4-year old nephew. But I was still quite impressed by the film making.

An A+ cast (Leo does some of his best work ever) gives a B+ effort to a C+ script. But I'm a victim of the nostalgia bug: I lived through the era working in Hollywood at the time, personally experienced the restaurants, the locations (even the Playboy mansion), the people, the times...all of which were re-created with amazing fidelity. I can't hate on a movie that took me back to my salad days so convincingly. So I'm giving a 2 1/2 star movie 3 1/2 stars just because. But I really didn't like the movie much.

Jesse Eisenberg plays his usual meek beta male who is determined to learn karate for self protection after a brutal night beating by a motorcycle gang. He joins a dojo run by a proto-facist karate Sensei (a strong performance by Alessandro Nivola), and gradually he's drawn into the world of martial arts, which subtly changes his personality. That's the gist of this off-center drama, which sometimes veers into satire. I'm not sure whether or not the script is psychologically valid; but Eisenberg and Nivola somehow make it seem real. Still, there were too many plot flaws to totally get into the film.

In 2011, Syrian journalist Waad Al-Kateab started to shoot videos of the rebellion against the Assad regime in Syria's largest city, Aleppo, home at that time to 4.6 million inhabitants. As the violence of the regime's counterattacks increased along with bombings by Assad's Russian allies, she continued shooting the videos, capturing with great bravery and professional skill the suffering of the city's populace during the years long siege of the city and the destruction of the infrastructure around her. She married a courageous doctor, who ran hospitals for the wounded civilians, had a daughter, Sama, and became pregnant with another girl.

After the inevitable fall of Aleppo in 2016, she and her family miraculously escaped with the footage; and with the support of British director Edward Watts, produced this amazing documentary testament to human suffering and resilience. She intended this film to be a legacy for her adorable young daughter, who lived through these events mostly oblivious to the consequences of what was happening around her, protected somehow by her brave parents and their friends.

Even though the Syrian revolution and its consequences are by now old-hat, having been shown in a score of superb documentary films so far...this film is unique for its up-close-and-personal production. Informative, heartbreaking, beautifully photographed and edited, this film represents the summit of documentary achievement possibility. Much praise is due to the film makers! This is the must-see documentary from the recent war-torn Syrian disaster. But be prepared...there is footage of hospital carnage here that is almost intolerably graphic.

An Alabama pawn shop receives a legacy inheritance that a woman and her tough lady partner received from her grandfather: a sword, mythically used by a Union general beginning with "S" (Sherman? Sheridan? the provenance is uncertain) to surrender to General Lee, proof that the South actually won the Civil War. That device is the starting point for a fun, if unlikely, satire as kooks of all stripes jostle to capture the sword. The script is wordy; but the actors all deliver the goods with enthusiasm and good nature. Director Lynn Shelton is great at making small, intimate films out of unlikely situations. This film occasionally threatens to go south into reflexive slapstick; but it remains just realistic enough, the clever banter just humorous enough, that it is fun to watch...even if by the end it concludes with a whimper.

The film title refers to a schlocky Palestinian TV soap opera about an Israeli general and a French-Arab woman spy who is trying to steal military secrets. The popular show-within-the-show is watched in both Palestine and Israel, mostly by women. Salam (Kais Nashif), the wastrel nephew of the show's producer, talks himself into the position of screen writer, with the help of a real Israeli officer who commands the checkpoint between Ramallah and Jerusalem. Part political satire, part slapstick comedy, part show biz take-off, the film is intermittently clever and diverting. It even earned a few titters from me. But its intrigues never rang true and the characterizations were overly broad.

Have I mentioned lately how much of a sucker I am for kids with cancer movies? This one has a really attractive cast, and a story that isn't exactly lame...but still fairly predictable. Still, flicking through the miasma of Netflix availability, I chose this one...probably because I'd watch Asa Butterfield read the phone book while flashing those incredible blue eyes. But I was also intrigued by what Maisie Williams was up to...her strong run as Arya Stark in Game of Thrones gave promise of a future pixie gamine if she plays her cards right. Anyway, bottom line: I was glad I chose this affecting film, if only because it was short and sweet and I loved the actors.

How does a gorgeous, affecting film with an Oscar worthy performance by Vera Farmiga and a breakthrough first performance by future star child actor Jacob Tremblay gather dust unreleased for five years before finally getting a superficial big-screen release? Blame the current state of the film biz, where only Marvel superhero movies get noticed in the multiplexes and smaller films with multi-generational, humanistic themes and cinematography that begs to be seen on the big screen get ghettoized and ignored and relegated to video release if even that. OK. Diatribe over.

Burn Your Maps actually is a quirky family drama about the corrosive effects of bereavement: two parents struggling to recover from the loss of their newborn child and somehow rekindle their fraught relationship, while their whip-smart 7-year old son begins to obsess that he is a reincarnated Mongolian goatherd. It gets to the point that the boy's mother actually takes him to the steppes of that country where a series of adventures involving the kindnesses of strangers, and a kind of healing are offered. It's an unlikely story that has a ring of authenticity, even as it narrowly avoids sentimental overkill. I found it to be a moving, emotionally satisfying experience, impeccably acted and directed. But I'm a sucker for adventure stories about precocious kids in exotic locales. The strongly portrayed, adult themes just came as a welcome addition to enhance the experience.

Billi, a Chinese-American 20-something girl (a surprisingly emotionally valid performance by Awkwafina) finds out that her beloved grandmother is dying of lung cancer back in the old country. But even more tragic, she is forbidden to attend her cousin's made-to-order weddding with the rest of her family because Chinese custom has it that a dying person should be lied to about the fatal prognosis. And nobody trusts that the thoroughly Americanized Billi could keep such a secret from the clever old woman. But Billi rebels and travels to China on her own. That is the set up for a beautifully scripted and acted family drama, done with humor and poignancy. It was made entirely with an Asian cast, and most of the dialogue was subtitled.

For me, the film had strong resonance with some of the masterpieces of Chinese family life by director Ang Lee (for instance Eat Drink Man Woman and The Wedding Banquet); but director Lulu Wang gave the film a fresh perspective all her own, based on her own family experiences (originally told on a segment of "This American Life" on PBS.) The film itself was at times sentimental and its occasional farcical plot elements were somewhat drawn out; but its cross-cultural message was also enlightening and universally applicable. The film also had a superb score and song soundtrack among other technical superlatives. Bottom line: ultimately I was moved to genuine tears by this heartwarming, authentically observed film.

I wish I could give this film 3 1/2 stars. It has much of the same visual panache as the superior animated Spider-Verse film from last year. But the story plays too fast and loose with illusions as a lynch-pin, losing some continuity and any realistic validity; and worse, the adolescent angst became tiresome after a while. But Tom Holland is a fine Peter Parker, for my money more convincing than Garfield and Maguire in the previous incarnations, both better actors, but too mature for the role. And then there is Jake Gyllenhaal's villain: unusually psychologically complex, but never quite surmounting the usual clichés of villainy. Still it was a diverting couple of hours, enjoyable despite its many flaws.

This involving and optimistic documentary recounts the first eight years of the development of Apricot Lane Farms, an organic farm devoted to sustainable agriculture and free-range livestock. John and Molly Chester, film maker and chef respectively, were evicted from their Los Angeles apartment when their newly rescued dog proved to be a barking nuisance. With the help of crowdsourced funding, they purchased 200 acres of soil-dead land in Moorpark, just north of the L.A. metro area, and sought the advice of biodynamic consultant Alan York (the "Guru of Green"). York's theories of farming with natural soil cultures and diverse products in balance with nature were to prove successful over the years, despite a series of setbacks portrayed in the film. John had been a documentary film maker prior to starting this experiment in farming; and he was able to shoot beautiful wide-screen, green saturated footage of the growth of his crops and livestock, and edit it into a stirring, chronological story which he narrated. A fecund sow named Emma and her mangy rooster companion became stars of the film. But the drama was provided by predators and natural disasters; and the mechanism that nature used, with supervision by committed human helpers, to keep things in balance. The result is a beautiful film that both entertains and inspires.

In this sociologically important documentary, four high school wrestlers and their conflicted coach live through an entire season of competitions leading up to the state finals. The setting is the J.O. Johnson High School in Huntsville, Alabama, an impoverished institution doomed to be eliminated at the end of the current school year. During the course of the season, the three black and one white athletes face problems, both academic and personal...from teenage pregnancy, to drug use, to trouble with law enforcement, to academic problems and triumphs. But, with the help of their caring 28-year old white coach, they all take advantage of their wrestling spare time to advance their lives...more or less. This is a valuable slice of life documentary, more than one that is merely about high school sports and its triumphs and defeats. Its unsparing view, faithfully shown by the invisible film makers, of the family lives and struggles of the four athletes, make for some gut wrenching commentary on the corrosive effects of poverty and racism in the Deep South. Yet, somehow, for all the problematic down times, the film ends up as a mostly positive story of resilience, and an optimistic and humanistic view of the present day social milieu in small town America.

This somewhat straightforward, chronological documentary covers the entire 9 days of the Apollo 11 first-walk-on-the-moon expedition. It utilizes, often with simultaneous split screen, films taken at the time, along with videos that were transmitted by various networks...plus some instructive animations showing the rocket and space capsule maneuvers. The sound track is made up of contemporary recordings of speech and sounds, along with an occasional, minimal music track. It is a fine record of this historic event, made without editorializing or film maker point-of-view. Just a factual recounting with much never before seen material. The dry re-telling with original visuals and sound somehow lacks the impact of the event for people like me who spent the entire time caught up in the event vicariously on our TV sets. Still, this is a stirring record of the achievement that ought to convince even the space-flight doubters and flat-earthers that maybe this really happened. But they'll probably still be convinced that even this documentary is an elaborate hoax, done with special effects.

This is a 5-part limited fantasy series from the fertile minds of creators Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. It recounts the wacky story of Armageddon and the End of Days, from the point of view of two fallen immortals: an angel, played by Michael Sheen, and a demon, played by David Tennant. It involves such japes as a mix-up in the birth of the Anti-Christ, a 17th century witch's prophecies, discord in heaven and hell, and many other fantastical inventions. The special effects were superb; but I could never manage to suspend even a smidgen of disbelief in the concept or execution of the story. But the excellent cast and Monty Python-esque humour at least made the series watchable.

The Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services (LADCFS) is the largest such agency in the country. This emotionally gripping and informative documentary tells the story of several children that are in the foster care system, from the point of view of some typical (and well chosen) children and parents themselves, a few committed social workers, sympathetic judges, and an especially vocal, loving foster mother to several needy children. The film skillfully intercuts these stories, creating a vérité narrative that offers a positive message about the progress and successes of government supervised foster care, mostly in minority communities. Director Mark Harris's invisible camera has an uncanny knack for being in the right place at the right time to further the narrative. And editor Kate Amend's editorial schema is brilliantly achieved to build and connect the sequences and provide each thread with an ultimate emotional catharsis for the audience. (Personal note: I have worked with both Harris and Amend in the past; but my reaction to this film was visceral and my tears during the final few minutes of each story were honest, personal responses to the very real people portrayed in this documentary.)

Steve Bannon is a polarizing political figure, a loud voice of the far right, but a reasonably temperate and intelligent one. This almost fair and balanced documentary follows Bannon up-close-and-personal for the year and a half before the 2018 mid-term elections, culminating with that night when his worst fears were realized as the Democrats took the House. His international travels in support of rightist anti-immigration elements in Britain and Europe, and his failed support for Judge Moore in the Alabama senate race made headlines. But his tumultuous ups and downs from Trump aide in the White House to pariah after his comments to Michael Wolff were published in the book "Fire and Fury" also made the news. This chronological documentary suffers from some fragmented editing; but it does manage to illuminate the activities of this complex, political person...not always in complimentary ways. But after spending 92 minutes of cinéma vérité with Bannon, I did get the feeling that I got to know him better...not support his ardent viewpoint, but at least understand it and even sympathize a bit with the man for his sincerity and commitment.

A failed English singer-songwriter (Himesh Patel) discovers that he's the only person in the world who remembers the Beatles and their music. When he starts to perform the songs, his career takes off. That is the setup of this pleasant enough musical fantasy, screenplay by Richard Curtis and directed by Danny Boyle. This year has seen big budget pop star biopics about Queen and Elton John. However this isn't a biopic about the Beatles...rather a fiction using their catalogue of amazing songs, re-sung by Patel with a voice that rivals Paul and John both. It's an interesting way of incorporating these nostalgic and memorable songs into a narrative (Across the Universe also incorporated Beatles songs into an overall narrative to great effect; but in that case with the original Beatles' tracks.)

The final film is a little sappy. No director these days is able to harness sentimentality quite as well as Danny Boyle. But I'm a sucker for Beatles nostalgia. They were my age; and they wrote and sang the songs that defined my 20's. Every tune, every word resonated in my memory. And I loved what the film did with their music (although I did wonder if a simplistic song from the early 1960s like "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" would actually become a hit song today...however later Beatles' music is clearly timeless).

Additionally, the film had some wonderful cameo performances: by Ed Sheeran as himself, Kate McKinnon playing a tigress of a music promoter, and an uncredited Robert Carlyle in a surprising role. The result was a film that entertained and an improbable story that captivated my interest.

This film is unclassifiable: part thriller, part comedy, part political satire, part insane fantasy. Diamantino (played with nervy conviction by the super-attractive, athletic stud actor Carlotto Cotta) is a dim-witted, but sweet tempered, champion soccer player. His last act for the Portuguese team in the World Cup final match was to blow the last second penalty kick...as he dreamily kicked the ball into a bevy of fantasy giant fluffy dogs. What follows is a fast paced series of events illustrating Diamantino's Candide-like naivety as he is taken advantage of by 1) conniving twin sisters robbing him blind; 2) a lesbian government tax inspector pretending to be a young immigrant boy; 3) a government conspiracy to clone Diamantino to make a team of super-athletes for Portugal as it strives to exit the European Union; 4) a computer program designed to insert fish genes into the cloning process, with likely fatal results for poor Diamantino. All this done in a fast-paced, garishly lit, fantasia of a visual style that is truly unique. None of it makes a bit of real-world sense. Yet, perhaps this is precisely the political satire that the world needs right now.

This retrospective documentary recounts the story of the relatively obscure blues duo "Satan & Adam" (Sterling Magee and Adam Gussow). In 1986, Magee was a 50-year old celebrated Harlem street musician, a grizzled African-American man singing his blues songs and doing his own guitar and percussion playing for passers-by. He had had a career playing back-up to more famous recording celebrities; and at some point took on the name Mr. Satan. In 1986, Gussow was a middle-class, white young man, a Princeton grad doing tutoring work, when he encountered Mr. Satan doing his thing in Harlem within hailing distance of the famed Apollo theater. Gussow asked Magee if he could add his harmonica playing riffs to Magee's playing, promising that he wouldn't embarrass the accomplished musician. Despite the distrust of the area's inhabitants for a white blues player, the duo hit it off and over time became a successful, recording act "Satan & Adam."

The film utilizes old B&W footage of the duo's act from the streets of '80s Harlem, and then gradually brings the interesting and often touching stories of these two men up to date with interviews and scenes from their separate lives through good times and bad times in the intervening years. Magee is still alive and reasonably active at 82, after recovering from a debilitating stroke. And Gussow is a university professor in Oxford, Mississippi. I'm in no way a fan of the blues and jazz; but this well told documentary about a racially diverse, relatively obscure, but obviously talented pair of musicians held my interest.

I do read reviews from friends on letterboxd. Which is why I almost skipped the free screening of this film, despite my curiosity to see whether Sansa Stark could shed her breakout characterization (she did quite nicely). Surprisingly, I didn't dislike the film, even sort of enjoyed it despite some obvious plot flaws. The special f/x were flawless, the characters relatable, the actors attractive, the intergalactic menace convincing, the Dolby Atmos sound effects rocked the theater. Maybe it's just that I have no vested interest in the X-men franchise, no reason to feel this was an unworthy return to the mutants' origins. I won't do plot spoilers, even though few people seem to be planning to watch the film. Just saying...it ain't all that bad, people!

In 1989 a crew of women sailors broke into the machismo world of ocean yachting by fielding a hard-won entry into the fifth running of the Whitbread Round the World yacht race. They were given hardly a chance of even finishing the grueling 7 month challenge against sea and wind, and the more famous and experienced male competitors. Yet, as this thrilling and immersive documentary shows, they were up to the challenge. Much of the amazing seafaring footage was shot at the time by the competitors themselves. And much of the impetus for making this documentary came from the leader of the group, bad-girl Tracy Edwards, who was determined to prove that women could be as good sailors as men. The old footage, along with present day interviews, have been skillfully (and I mean brilliantly) edited into as thrilling a saga of the sea and the triumph of willpower that we've seen (well, at least since last year's Oscar winning documentary, Free Solo, anyway.) This is one big-screen documentary that deserves to be seen (and heard) on the big screen.

Scary little short film from a young letterboxd contributor. The acting and editing are especially fine. I'm not much into "horror" genre; but I might just have trouble getting to sleep tonight.

Two young black men experience first hand the social changes today caused by the gentrification of San Francisco neighborhoods. Jimmie Fails (played by newcomer Jimmie Fails who co-wrote the original story) skateboards the streets of the city along with his bestie, Mont (Jonathan Majors). Jimmie's quest in life is to fix-up and reclaim the old Victorian mansion that his grandfather (the so-called first black man in San Francisco) reputedly built by hand post-WWII. That is the intriguing set-up for a melancholy journey into nostalgia for an era that never was, but still feels relevant and contemporary.

However, admitting that I really didn't like this film much seems churlish, even to some degree non-PC. But frankly, for me the narrative was confusing right up to the ambiguous last scene, and the emotional content had almost no personal resonance. Sure, the mostly non-professional actors gave committed performances; and the first-time director (and co-writer Joe Talbot) indicated with a fine visual sensibility that he is a film-maker to watch for. But I needed an emotional connection to this story that just didn't happen for me. Your mileage may vary (it did for many in the applauding audience around me.)

Historical 5-part mini-series: a docu-drama about one of the most mystery-ridden ecological catastrophes in history. Wonderfully acted and produced, scary as hell, politically explosive (although by now the Soviet system deserves all the trashing it can get), riveting television at its best. Another HBO winner.

What would happen if a principled, charitable young man is confronted by a sudden gift of millions of tainted cash? That is the dilemma that philosopher/delivery boy Pierre-Paul (portrayed with naive integrity by relative newcomer Alaxendre Landry) must face in this congenial thriller from Canadian auteur Denys Arcand. If the solution often strains credulity with a few narrative holes, nevertheless the financial caper that solves the dilemma is intriguing enough in its originality that I was able to suspend disbelief and buy into its premise anyway. That was obviously due to the sympathetic characterizations of the "good" guys (including the beautiful Maripier Morin, portraying a high class prostitute with a good heart), and a relatively low body count. Arcand's continuing theme is that money may be the root of all evil; but it also has saving grace in the right hands.

Maybe it has been too long between the inconclusive last episode (in 2006) of one of HBO's signature series and this feature length culminating episode (2019). Sure, the returning actors here were all a convincing 10 years older, as called for in the plot. And certainly the profane, Shakespearean cadences of David Milch's dialogue were still just as unique and vivid as I remembered. But so much of the plot was just made obscure by the passage of time, and, at least for this viewer, the frailty of memory. But a re-watch of the original series wasn't in the cards for me. What was left was the undeniable enjoyment of returning to the frontier world of 1887 Deadwood, S. Dakota, with all its passions and squalor intact. I just didn't feel the same excitement of discovery and fascination with this time and place that I felt in 2006.

Katherine, a tyrannical, out-of-touch, Late Night TV host (Emma Thompson, a fine actor somewhat miscast as a post-menopausal comedian), must update her tired talk show format to stay on the network. To fill a space in her all-white-male writer's room, she accidentally "diversity" hires Molly, a younger, funnier, but inexperienced writer of Indian heritage (played by Mindy Kaling, who also wrote the screenplay.) That is the set-up for a mildly amusing comedy that artfully steals the plot of The Devil Wears Prada (young woman shames older mentor to change with the times.) The film is amiable enough, and it's fun to watch the interplay between the two actresses. But the plot presented one cliché after another about gender in the workplace; and it just didn't quite work for me.

As a rock-star biopic this glitter-bomb is hit and miss. As a musical extravaganza, with thrilling original versions of Elton John songs sung by a surprisingly fabulous Taron Egerton, this film is playing on all cylinders. Credit director Dexter Fletcher for getting the flash on screen with vintage MGM musical flourishes and superbly edited montages that blend various sequences from Reginald/Elton's life story in an interestingly non-linear fashion. But when the film leaves its focus on Elton's career and delves into his dysfunctional family dynamic, it somehow loses a bit of authenticity. Still, the sum total is entertainment with a capital E.

This semi-autobiographical romantic tragedy is something of a narrative muddle. But maybe that's the point: life as most people live it is often muddled. In this case, Honor Sinton Byrne (Tilda Swinton's daughter) plays Julie, an emotionally reserved, artistically committed film student, who develops a co-dependent relationship with Anthony, a glibly intellectual, but psychically damaged foreign office functionary (Tom Burke). Much of the film features muted conversations between a group of friends that is more random chatter than actual dialogue. And the central relationship may have a ring of truth; but it is also maddeningly fraught and, sorry to say, a little unbelievable. Except that there is always an undercurrent of the film director (Joanna Hogg) trying to re-create in Julie her own youthful persona, while attempting to explicate the fragility and pliancy of her avatar's acquiescence to the ill-fated relationship with Anthony...an exercise that simply didn't emotionally resonate for me. But it engenders an art film of rare subtlety that others are bound to welcome.

This is a biopic about the youth and intellectual blossoming of famed fantasy author J. R. R. Tolkien. The film is structured as an extended series of flashbacks from the delirious mind of WWI officer Tolkien, stricken with "trench fever" in a realistic depiction of the horrors of that war. These flashback scenes initially concentrated on his grammar schooling, where he became part of a band of four comrades who continued to be friends through their various matriculations at Oxford and Cambridge, until the war separated them. The script jumped around in time so randomly that occasionally it bogged down and lost focus. However, one can't fault the actors, especially Nicholas Hoult as Tolkien, who handled the difficult process of portraying student and soldier with a keen intelligence. In addition, the score and production design throughout was well done...this is one period piece that had an authentic feeling of the time and place. But somehow the total effect of the film was less than the sum of its parts; and the story couldn't sustain my interest for its extended length.

Talky and intellectual, this exploration of the French literary world with emphasis on secrets and extra-marital affairs is a slight disappointment from one of my favorite auteurs, Olivier Assayas. In fact, it took almost half the film before I became involved with the characters...at which point the dynamics of the relationships caught fire and I started to really enjoy the film. Credit Assayas and his cast for creating a complex romantic dramedy about couples living double lives with unexpected consequences.

This is a fun, if predictable, rom-com that plays games with the old "battle of the sexes" genre. Charlotte Field is the Secretary of State angling to run for President. As portrayed by Charleze Theron wearing killer outfits, she is a powerful and ambitious woman politician. On the other hand, Fred Flarsky (Seth Rogan), is a principled journalist, Jewish and accident prone, who as a pubescent tweener had a crush on his older baby sitter, none other than Ms. Field. When Charlotte hires Fred to be her speech writer, much well earned hilarity ensues. Watching this, I constantly had the nagging feeling that I'd seen it all before, an update of typical 1940s Rosalind Russell films. But the political satire was clever enough to seem contemporary (watch Alexander Skarsgard do a slimy imitation of Justin Trudeau, or unrecognizable Andy Serkis's skewering of Rupert Murdoch). And believe it or not, Theron and Rogan developed some unexpected romantic chemistry...a tribute to the script and direction, but especially the actors. I was won over.

Léo is 22, barely literate, living on the street as a male hustler. He's cute and actually attracted to men (as opposed to a fellow hustler, Ahd, who is strictly gay-for-pay and doesn't kiss.) Léo is silently in love with the older Ahd; and occasionally they do double tricks. But the street isn't kind to Léo; and neither is Ahd. That is the set-up for a totally engrossing gay film, that is both a descent into hell and somehow almost redemptive. Leave it to the French to do hard-core gay porn and make it into art. Credit especially Félix Maritaud, who is totally convincing in the role of Léo, and committed to going to the extremes of degradation that the role demands. This might be a career making role...he's that good. But kudos also to the writer/director Camille Vidal-Naquet, who deservedly won the César award for best first feature. He has created a convincingly realistic world of hustlers and tricks, peopled with characters that one can totally relate to...and, if not sympathize with, at least feel empathy towards. It was a difficult, tawdry, dark world; but I was totally engrossed.

This Los Angeles based, contemporary film noir follows Sam, a young, perennially unemployed man living in a typical L.A. apartment around a swimming pool, who passes time spying on his (mostly naked female) neighbors. One day, one of those neighbors, Sarah (Riley Keough), an attractive woman that Sam had connected with (at least in his own mind) mysteriously disappeared. At which point Sam (engagingly portrayed with lanky physicality by Andrew Garfield) sets off through a thicket of L.A. weirdos to find her. In the course of his quest, Sam, an unreliable narrator who is into mysterious codes and paranoia, gets involved with murderous cults, eerie tunnels, and literally crazy conspiracy theorists. It's a fun trip down the rabbit hole; but I was never quite sure what was real and what were the fantasies of drug addled psycho. Still, I submitted to the film's style, enjoyed tripping through some familiar L.A. scenery. Mostly, I appreciated how deftly Garfield (and director David Robert Mitchell) navigated the preposterous goings-on without quite drowning in the deeps of the eponymous Silver Lake reservoir.

As I've written many times before: I'm not a particular fan of the Marvel Cinematics Universe. However this concluding epic saga almost won me over for its sheer bravado and well realized massive scope. Demerits for packing too many underdeveloped (in this film, at least) characters, and a number of anachronistic narrative flaws which brought me out of the story for moments at a time (but most time travel stories share that problem.) However, add back some points for the superb technical mastery of the special effects and great (if loud) soundtrack; and additional plaudits for the emotional resonance of the final resolution of some of the major characters' stories. I don't deal in plot spoilers...by now I assume a LOT of readers of this review will have seen the film and decided for themselves if this was a satisfactory conclusion to the dastardly deed that almost extinguished half of the universe. I came close to adding that important extra 1/2-star to my review; but in the final analysis this was a good film that tried for greatness and fell considerably short.

Claire Denis has always been an auteur film maker of rare mystery and style. However, here she has overdone both mystery and style to the point of incomprehension. This is a film comprised of some of the most abstruse low-lights of Kubrick's 2001 without the leavening of purposefulness, and sorely lacking Arthur C. Clarke's narrative cohesion. I'm sure there was a story there; but if it existed it went 'way over my head. And I have 70 years of obsession with sci-fi and its tropes under my belt. Still, what remained of Denis' visual style kept me in my seat.

I'm going out on a limb here, risking alienating all my readers who are die-hard Marvel Universe fans...but for my money, this kids-friendly, adults-friendly DC revival, based on my personal favorite superhero character of the 1940s, "Captain Marvel," is an ideal model for future superhero flicks. Sure, it follows the time-tested origin story model of Spider-Man to a tee. But it does so with identifiable characters who are quick with a quip, and not the nasty kind of snideness featured in Deadpool, or the universe-ending omnipotence of the Avengers. Rather we're given Shazam (Zachary Levi), formerly Billy Batson, a rebellious, teenage orphan searching for his lost mother, who is magically (and reluctantly) turned into a bumbling, but endearing, grown-up as in Big, only one with super powers. And Freddy, foster-cared tweener cripple (Jack Dylan Grazer), who may be the cleverest side-kick ever created. Even the dastardly supervillain, Dr. Sivana (Mark Strong), has his own interesting origin story that is the mirror image of young, hero-to-be Billy Batson (Asher Angel).

All this is presented with state-of-the-art visual and audio special effects that never fail to convince and amaze. And a script that presents all the usual superhero flick tropes with both conviction and audience friendly good humor that deserves a series of sequels. At least that was my surprisingly pleasant reaction watching this new spin on an age-old genre that has never been a favorite of mine in the past. But then, I'm an old fogey from a simpler, more innocent age of comic book universes.

Terms invented to describe this film: tongue-in-cheek, meta, jejune, silly, stupid, over-the-top, tries too hard, not as good as the original. That about covers it. Still, entertaining, occasionally funny, endearing, sort of fun. I wish I could hate this film; but it's not good enough to hate. Just sort of meh hateful.

Hardly any films, let alone documentaries, are made completely in post-production. This documentary about trench warfare in WWI contained no newly shot footage, only original films from the years 1914-19 that were shot in B&W and have deteriorated over the past 100 years almost beyond reclamation, along with a narration sound track solely composed of interviews recorded over the years with actual veterans of that war.

Since I had an entire film career mostly working post-production in windowless rooms, much of the time alone, I am particularly critical of the quality of editing, sound mix, foley work (making sound effects to match visuals) and visual effects. And I'm here to state that nothing in the history of motion pictures compares to what the genius director/artist Peter Jackson and his talented collaborators have created with this film. I was lucky enough to be able to view the film in colorized 3D and Dolby Atmos sound. Frankly, it should only be seen this way. It is inconceivable that the state of the art of computerized film restoring and modern image enhancing has reached this level. But the results here speak for themselves. Every frame has been meticulously transformed into a realistic panorama that brings the 100 year old variable speed, hand-cranked reality to startling life. Even more, the silent films have been transformed into talkies by painstakingly using lip reading and skilled dubbing by voice-overs to create a true sound film. And every artillery shot, every footfall, every murmur is accurately re-created. It is an astounding achievement...a documentary that ought to score Oscars for sound and visual effects if the industry takes notice.

It's not fun to watch. Trench warfare was horrendous, and the camera doesn't shy from showing the dead bodies being eaten by bugs, the horrors of trench foot, the miasma of gas attacks which are seen as a deadly yellow fog. Just the fact that the hundreds of hours of film were actually shot under the most trying of conditions by brave cameramen in the early days of film is a miracle in itself. That a present day crew of technicians could make a 100% convincing color film out these old prints, and turn it into quality 3D that carries the viewer right into the trenches...it's a miracle. I don't use that word lightly. Bottom line: see this film.

Incredibly enough, this is a feel-good movie about a face-off between a black activist woman (a remarkably energetic performance by Taraji P. Henson) and the leader of the Durham, NC Ku Klux Klan (another surprisingly affecting performance by Sam Rockwell.) The year is 1971, the setting in the heart of Dixie as school integration is just starting to become a hot local issue. The technical credits are flawless: production design that brings the era to life, an effective scrip giving a truthful glimpse into the racial strife of the era which arouses discomfort in a contemporary audience, a good thing. What bothered me is that events as dramatized, even though based on a true story, seemed overly simplified for dramatic effect; and I had trouble accepting the psychological motivations of one major character in particular. Still, overall, the film's ultimately positive message won me over.

A large scale, if talky, intimate-epic film which related the story of an 1819 event in Manchester, England...an attack by authorities on a peaceable demonstration of up to 80,000 people where many were injured and (9?) were killed. Unlike most films from director Mike Leigh, this was a large scale production with a huge cast of mostly unfamiliar actors, and an above average amount of filmed spectacle. I couldn't help but feel that this was more like a typical Ken Loach, anti-establishment, anti-monarchy, leftish-leaning film...only with a much larger budget than either of these fine directors usually marshal.

The film is long; and the lengthy set-up to the final massacre scenes occasionally drags from too much exposition and overblown dialog. But the production design was superb, a convincingly authentic re-creation of that era in England. And Leigh's script involving the monarchy, Parliament, revolutionary agitators, and several local working families collected into a complex tapestry, brought the unfamiliar history alive as few films have.

Here's the quandary: Tim Burton is one of the great directors of effects laden films, with a proven record of artistic triumphs over sometimes dicey material. Dumbo is a hokey misplaced-animal story, that even in the 1940s was primarily designed by the Disney animation factory to prepare audiences for the deeper emotional affect of the upcoming Bambi: sympathetic baby animal torn from its mother and threatened by flames and the depredations of mankind, that ultimately survives its travails in triumph. But this is 2019, and despite Burton's foolproof skill at making screen magic, the story in this live actors plus animated animals adventure/weeper, seems a little dated and obvious.

Still, the tacky 1919 traveling circus setting which magically transforms into a Disney Worldesque circus extravaganza, makes for some incredibly dense and fantastic visuals. And the cast delivers: one-armed heroic dad, Colin Farrell; the ideal comic circus impresario, Danny DeVito; the dastardly fake millionaire expoiter, Michael Keaton; the nubile circus aerialist, Eva Green; and two age-appropriate, unfamiliar moppets. All together they add an interesting human element to some incredible CGI animals that are beyond the state-of-the-art up to now. Furthermore, Danny Elfman's score and Rick Heinrichs's production design are Oscar caliber achievements.

Bottom line: Just as with that other recent circus extravaganza, The Greatest Showman, spectacle that amazes somehow overcomes the hokum. I enjoyed this film, found myself moved and entranced by the milieu; but the story really lacked the novelty and depth it needed to have in order to become an all-time classic children's film.

I'm giving this an extra 1/2 star for being stylishly overwrought. But the story was nonsense, in any timeline or universe. I do admit to having a blind spot when it comes to the horror genre. However, this film wasn't horror...too unreal to be scary, to outrageous to be affected by the over-the-top violence. I'm just sorry I was suckered into attending a free screening. I would have been truly upset if I had paid for this monumental waste of time.

There's really only one reason to watch this film: Jesse Eisenberg, at the peak of his fast-talking, smarter than thou, somehow appealing even when being an asshole persona. In this film he even manages to pull off his non-stop mental agility while incidentally probably dying of cancer (OK that's a spoiler, but it won't spoil what can't be spoiled.) Oh, wait, there's another reason: Alexander Skarsgard, playing against type as a geeky, balding, tech savant and doing it with more panache than I would have thought possible.

The plot, something about shaving milliseconds of transmission time to make a killing in the stock market while battling a rapacious capitalist (Salma Hayek) in a race for dominance, well it's just about as unlikely and contrived as they come. But watching Eisenberg and Skarsgard do their canny, mismatched buddy act together almost makes it worth the time spent enduring the futile chase scenes.

OK, first for my mea culpa: I love the sick kids, doomed love movie genre. If I get a good cry out of it, all the better! This film is a pretty shameless example of such a story in action. And, yes, I did love even this one (I was the only person in the audience at a weekday matinee...leaving the question, would they have actually run the film if I hadn't been there? If a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around does it make a sound? The film does engender such heavy philosophical musings.)

Anyway, this film checked all the boxes: attractive couple? Wow! Haley Lu Richardson is a knock-out with a lively presence that the camera loves. And Cole Sprouse...I'm watching "Riverdale" mostly for him, attractive, smart and seemingly genuine. Check two times. An obviously doomed, but irresistible third-wheel gay friend? Moisés Arias never fails to fill that bill. Check. A usually fatal lingering disease that hasn't been overdone in movies before? Check.

It isn't all roses and lollypops, however. Certain plot developments are pretty hokey and manipulative. Let's go all the way with unbelievable. Still, I cried. I cheered my lonely cheers without bothering any of the other invisible audience members. For me a film like this is almost certainly going to be a slam-dunk. And, darn it, I wasn't disappointed. Cynics should avoid at all cost.

More a public service announcement than a fiction film, The Mustang informs us that there is a program in the U.S. West where wild mustangs are caught and trained for eventual sale by incarcerated prisoners. However, the film really does tell a story: an introverted wife-killer (a stolid, convincing performance by one of my favorite actors, the amazingly protean Matthias Schoenaerts who never looks like the same actor from film to film) is given the job of training one particular violent mustang...and they eventually bond. Two captives with a similar mindset.

The film plays like a small European art film, no surprise since the the film maker is a French woman; and the film itself is reminiscent in feeling of an earlier film, The Rider, which was also a neo-Western genre film created by a foreign woman. There are sequences of real power, here: rounding up wild horses with helicopter, saving the horses during a powerful thunder storm, the entire process of taming a horse. Bruce Dern is allowed to do his grizzled wise old man thing as the head wrangler. And prison life in a desert Nevada setting is portrayed realistically. However the film does have a few narrative glitches which stopped my involvement in the central story on occasion. The film is strikingly photographed, taking full advantage of the western countryside. If I cared as much about horses as I do about Matthias Schoenaerts, I would have loved this film more.

With a luminous, Oscar worthy performance by Julianne Moore as the centerpiece, Sebastián Lelio's English language remake of his remarkable Chilean film Gloria is one of those treasured few films for grownups that Hollywood rarely makes any more. Moore plays 50-ish Gloria Bell, long-time divorcée and mother and grandmother who by day works an insurance company office job, and by nights plies the L.A. elderly singles disco scene (does this even exist these days?) for solo dancing and apparently rare hook-ups. One night she meets a recently divorced, shy man (John Turturro, totally convincing), an ex-marine, paint-ball enthusiast, still overly tied to his needy grown daughters. They hook-up; but the pathway to love is strewn with impediments. That is the set-up for a difficult relationship drama that seemed completely plausible and real, even frustratingly so. It's all done to a fabulously retro disco song score and a surface gloss that presents a timeless picture of middle-age, middle-class, middle-everthing American white culture. I wanted to hate it, feel alienated by it; but it just rang too true to life as I know it must be for these too realistic characters and their families and friends. It's one of the few Hollywood remakes of a foreign language film that actually works better than the original.

The best moments of this film are the pre-film title sequence tribute to Stan Lee, and the post-end-credits ultimate hair-ball upchuck. In between it's something of a mess: mediocre, soft-focused special effects, a messy plot involving shifting identities and poorly choreographed hyper-violent fight scenes with fundamentally mismatched opponents. OK, I've never been a fan of some of these MCU variants. At least this one tries to take a half-hearted, even token feminist slant, which is anachronistic, considering the 1990s time period the film takes place in (and which has interesting implications for the upcoming MCU timeline). But there's no excuse for the boring progression of repetitive action scenes that only exist so that the female energy can kick male butt. I'm too old and cynical for Marvel joints. But I'm still hopeful for Avengers: Endgame.

How can a fine director and two superb actresses make a psycho-horror film that is so distressingly predictable and unnecessary? I don't enjoy writing bad reviews...so I think I'll just quit this now.

This is Alex Gibney's fascinating HBO documentary about the Theranos Labs fraud. The Silicon Valley start-up convinced investors and the public that its mystery box could take a tiny blood sample from a finger prick and turn out cheap test results...truly an innovation in health care. But some whistle-blowers led to a 2015 Wall Street Journal exposé of the fraud which then became a huge scandal. It's really all about the hypnotic quality of "inventor" Elizabeth Holmes's eyes. I'll bet that her mesmerizing, unblinking stare is still convincing some watchers of the film that the fraud accusations were just a "witch hunt." Hmmm, where have I heard of that phenomenon before?

I wanted to love this film...a favorite auteur director Christophe Honoré, a true-to-life French gay film, attractive actors, bittersweet romantic drama of 1993 (the last gasp of the era when AIDS=death.) Certainly there's a lot to like: intelligent characters; reflective, if talky, dialog; convincingly realistic cruising and sex. But instead of gai Paree I just got mournful Weltschmerz, and a film that brought back painful, personal memories of that era without the healing catharsis that I need from art. No, go elsewhere for a thoughtful dissection of the plot (the film has inspired some of the best reviews on letterboxd that I've ever read.) I just needed to vent both my disappointment and admiration for this film.

This is a more or less traditional bio-pic of a late 20th century artist (in this case primarily as a photographer) whose art was as dangerous and transgressive as his life-style. Matt Smith, a startling look-alike, is quite convincing as Robert Mapplethorpe. But the film, for all its daring portrayals of the gayness (including a liberal sprinkling of Mapplethorpe's photos of huge, black penises), somehow comes off as sanitized and perfunctory. It is still worth getting to know better this fatally doomed artist and his works.

In mid-1990s France, a mixed group of young dancers (women, men, gay, straight and in between) are recruited for an upcoming tour of the U.S. We meet them in taped interviews; and then the chosen ones gather together in an isolated, rundown practice space to do their break-dance routines and party to a continuously throbbing, disco beat. But somebody spikes the sangria with LSD, and things start to get out of hand. That is the set-up for a typical Gaspar Noé extravaganza of transgressions and riotous inventiveness. Featuring extraordinary dance sequences and extremely long, steady-cam takes, the film is a technical masterpiece. However, the descent into extreme degradation was occasionally too much, too feral, too in-your-face bad-ass for sanity. I figure it was an allegory of hell...visuals by Bosch, narrative by Dante. Only this was all Noé. And, as usual, I loved it.

A comparison could be drawn to the recent remake of Susperia, a film with a superficially similar narrative arc. However, for me, at least, Noé's visual brilliance overcame the lack of cohesive story; while Guadagnino became mired in a narrative that his production design couldn't match. Maybe the comparison is inapt; but I'm struggling to understand why I loved one film and intensely disliked the other...despite their similarities. Let's just say that Climax kicked me in the gut and left me in awe by the climax. That kind of involvement makes up for a lot of story flaws.

Franky (personable Josh Wiggins) is a high school student whose parents split up when his father (Kyle MacGlachlan) took a male partner, fracturing the family bond. He and his bestie, Ballas (Darren Mann), are on the school swim team where homosexual panic is rampant in the locker room and showers. That is the set-up for a thoughtful coming of age flick, dealing sensitively with the boys questioning their sexuality. while dealing with their feelings and relationships with their girlfriends. The high school and family milieus (the film takes place in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario Canada) are particularly realistic and unsparing...sort of like Degrassi on steroids.

This is just about the ultimate meta animated film, one gigantic internet meme in action. As a story it was pretty ordinary: internet game and its characters gone awry, again. But it was fun to watch; and the vocal acting was especially good (John C. Reilly met his perfect role.)

Finally caught up with this super-popular animated film. Watched it in 3-D, too, oddly enough the only film in 3-D that I watched that was released in the entire year of 2018 (and I love 3-D). The film combines so many genres (coming-of-age, superheroes and their origin stories, sci-fi featuring multiple universes, melting-pot multi-culturalism, creative variations of anime) that in lesser hands it could have been over-stuffed. However, blessed with with amazing, kinetic graphics (often successfully utilizing the graphic novel, multi-panel format), a universally relatable story, and a killer Atmos sound track - the film just worked creatively on many levels. Even for a superhero genre denier like me.

2nd viewing...first was on video and I really felt this one deserved the big screen experience. I was right. It transformed a great documentary, into a superbly crafted one...every aspect perfect, camera work, editing, music, even the dumb song over the end credits. Yes, and the people and the almost supernatural achievement, too. But those worked just fine on my TV screen. I can't recall the last time I was so involved in a documentary that time simply stopped passing. Usually, only the best scripted fiction films do that for me .

Catching up on the very few Oscar nominated films I missed last year, before the big vote starts next week. I didn't much enjoy the first Incredibles, which seemed sort of silly and obvious the way it combined the superhero and cartoon genres. So I had low expectations for the sequel. This one still seemed sort of silly and obvious...but also jam packed full of interesting characters and inventive plot developments. I give much credit to director Brad Bird, who over time has proved he is great for marrying flashy visuals with appealing smarts. The film also had some fine (and instantly identifiable) voice talent, including Holly Hunter, Bob Odenkirk and Catherine Keener. I don't think superhero stories are ever going to be my cuppa (with the possible exception of The Dark Knight, which for me was in a class of its own.) But if I have to watch one, making it as a satiric, semi-comedy takeoff of the genre has its appeal.

I'm not a fan of the Marvel universe; and this film encompasses most of the varied elements of that complex working together: Avengers, Guardians, Aesir, Wakanda, Dr. Strange etc. They all ally against supervillain Thanos and his minions, in an existential battle to save the entire universe. Can't ask for a bigger stage than that; and the film makers pull it off in an extravaganza of massive violence and special effects. I found it somewhat tiresome and overly extended. But I cannot deny that within the parameters of the superhero genre, this was close to the ultimate expression of the power of cinema to thrill (and even, in the end, to surprise.) OK, I came to watch his film late...and the stupendous ending was already spoiled for me. Still, if I were a Marvel fanboy, I would rate this film much higher. In its own terms, it was a huge success.

This is a weird Swedish take on their troll mythology, updated into a modern day, perversely polymorphic love story that actually moved me. The Academy understandably failed to advance this film in the foreign language Oscar race; but it recognized the amazing make-up and use of prosthetics...flawlessly turning human actors into troll like beings. Credit the two lead actors for pulling off their difficult roles: spiritually beautiful, but physically repellent beasts cavorting in sylvan splendor. It's a daring and original concept. The queasy thrill it provided reminded me of another groundbreaking, Swedish supernatural concept film of a few years ago, Let the Right One In.

A film about Van Gogh's final years, with a superb, committed and convincing performance by Willem Dafoe in the lead role. Maybe only artists should make biopix about artists. I really loved Julian Schnabel's direction...extremely arty in visually representing Van Gogh's insanity as the touchstone of his artistic genius. Schnabel also collected a treasure trove of great European actors in subsidiary roles (Mathieu Amalric, Mads Mikkelsen, Niels Arestrup, Emmanuelle Seigner et al) appearing as convincing subjects of famous paintings, and adding a touch of skill and gravitas to the ensemble.

I admit that I've never been a big Star Wars fan...as much as I love sci-fi as a genre, space opera sagas just don't appeal to me the way hard science based entertainments do. That said, this prequel seemed more formulaic and been-there-done-that than most. I can't fault the cast: Alden Ehrenreich was a convincing Han Solo. I could almost see him transitioning into Harrison Ford as he got older. And I really adored Emilia Clarke as Qi'ra, even though I couldn't help but think of her as Daenerys Targaryen at times (the problem with an actor getting such a defining role early in her career.) I'll probably skip a possible sequel in this timeline; but I'll still watch future Star Wars flicks just, well, out of habit.

A second big screen viewing...I have added a deserved full star to my previous rating. Actually, I cannot see how this film could have been improved. We're given an important geopolitical plot involving the Nazi, Communist and capitalist eras in Germany. Combine that with a gorgeously portrayed (and photographed) love story; a comprehensive, thrilling survey of modern art that gets to the true essence of the artistic spirit; and a technically polished film with arguably the best color cinematography, score and acting ensemble of the year. This was a three-hour film that just continued to add layers of meaning and involvement as it unfolded...right to a powerhouse ending that brought it all together. I was emotionally moved and intellectually stimulated...the very essence of why movies continue to be my passion.

Something of a mess...but still it had moments where I got into it. At least the staging was interesting, if often confusing. For me, the beginning was really ragged, frenetic and lacking a hook I could relate to. I almost checked out in Act 1. Fortunately it did get better as it went along. I really disliked the completely unmemorable 2005 movie and have never seen Rent on the stage. But watching this semi-live production (actually we saw mostly the recorded dress rehearsal because of an off stage injury to one of the principals which prevented an actual "live" presentation) I think that it must have been a lot better in the original stage production.

I can't say I liked this exercise in miserablism. It was excruciating to watch 24-year old Ayka (Samal Yeslyamova, dedicated and convincing) roam the snow filled streets of Moscow in desperation after having deserted her new born son...futilely trying to make money to pay off loan sharks. It's a film that even the Dardenne Brothers, who specialize in stories about desperate young women on the run, would be reluctant to deliver since it is so resolutely a downer. But give director Sergey Dvortsevoy credit for going too far into despair and graphic bodily functions, but still delivering one hell of a lead performance.