Wall Street Journal

“Macabre” doesn’t begin to describe “Maternal Instinct,” one of the more gruesome entries in the catalog of true-crime TV. In terms of nonfiction storytelling, however, it is a virtuous undertaking, as long as one can separate the subject from the storytelling.

There’s an idealist’s energy here that grows a bit too earnest, but the information is accessible. And basic.

A virtual two-hander, Miss You, Love You is a rare accomplishment—just enough of a good thing.

Flag Day may train its cameras on a small town, but its vision is expansive.

As attempted profundity, this doesn’t quite land, and neither does much else. Mr. Spielberg combined fairy tale with sci-fi beautifully in his 2001 masterpiece, A.I.: Artificial Intelligence. Disclosure Day is underwhelming when it tries to do the same.

None of the band members interviewed are out to beatify White—he didn’t pay them fairly; he took the publishing rights; he routinely overspent on tours, to the tune of half a million dollars at a clip. But he created an institution. Even when they’re shrugging off his sins with a smile, his old bandmates have to give him that.

Best to keep in mind that the whole franchise exists not to advance the craft of storytelling but the magic of merchandising. Forget it, friends, it’s Toytown.

Backrooms may not be a fully explained wonder but it’s well worth the wander.

Mr. Carney steers things back in a more pleasing direction in the end, but for a light comedy, “Power Ballad” contains far too much perplexed agony.

The cast’s choices are like weather-balloon data that presage the disaster of the movie’s climax, when everyone behaves like an emotionally incontinent millennial.