James Lattimer

A carefree life on the move is steadily and exquisitely overtaken by melancholy in writer-directors João Dumans and Affonso Uchoa’s Arábia, the portrait of a meandering journey fueled by song, anecdote, and landscape that zeroes in on the pressures of contemporary Brazil almost in passing.

The stock character types that Hirokazu Kore-eda employs across the board are pretty much open books from the start.

Thomas White's is a bizarre, undisciplined romp through snowbound Belgian vistas and '60s signifiers alike.

There's little here to suggest that the film is anything more than a hastily cobbled-together studio star vehicle.

A real yet illusory world is evoked so seamlessly that it also feels just one step away from pure cinematic fiction.

Wang Bing intends to give back to the inmates the opportunity for individual expression that society has robbed them of.

Watching this bloated mélange of derivative fantasy tropes unfold is akin to being forced to follow the efforts of a particularly ham-fisted gamer, with the viewer being jerked back and forth across countless busy CGI landscapes by a plot that's utterly predictable when it isn't confusing.

Athina Rachel Tsangari's obvious skill can't hide the fact that her concept is one-note.

Terence Davies's sheer talent for creating sensuous images conveniently masks how little of this feeling actually emerges from the plot these images illustrate.

An initially intriguing attempt to splice together a gay romance and a horror film that ultimately shows little flair for either genre.