This Turkish melodrama, which ventures into telenovela territory, is saved by its attractive cast and locations. Doom of Love offers a familiar story of twenty-somethings leaving behind a respectable, professional life for something less conventional but more personally and spiritually rewarding. Kuzum, Deniz, and Kirazci are a gorgeous trio, and they make beautiful music. The film floats when they're performing or at soothing meditation retreats, journeying freely in their convertible across stunning scenery, and falling in love. More pedestrian scenes of character development, particularly those involving other family and friends, are clunky, and the twist ending is overly contrived. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

The short story-inspired concept for this film turns out to be too thin to carry a whole movie, but it still mostly works thanks to engaging performances from stars Hemsworth and Teller. The two convincingly display the wide range of emotions brought on by both powerful drugs and extreme circumstances. Spiderhead is ultimately a story about human behavior: what people are capable of, what inspires good and bad deeds, how we each come to terms with our actions, and the age-old question of whether the world would be a better place if we could control the actions of others. Of course, a movie can't fully answer questions like these, but it can raise them in interesting ways. While Steve's motives seem to boil down to childhood abandonment issues, the prisoners' questioning of why they keep consenting to being experimented on opens up a lot to think about. Unfortunately, this is left largely unexplored, and the film comes to a somewhat abrupt closure. The laboratory setting in a vast concrete building contrasts with the warm, feel-good '70s and '80s tunes and the occasional views of a gorgeous surrounding landscape. That tonal confusion, paralleled in Hemsworth's smarmy salesman-slash-evil mastermind performance, could unsettle viewers (as it's likely meant to). Or it could leave them indifferent, somewhere right in the middle of the story's swinging moods. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This drama is quirky and touching, and it hinges on magnetic central performances from Raiff, Johnson, and Mann. If you crossed Woody Allen with Edward Burns, you might get something like Cha Cha Real Smooth writer-director-star Raiff. His Andrew is nerdy and prone to misspeak, but he's also kind, sensitive, and ready to discover the world -- or at least greater New Jersey. His neuroses and blunders can be humorous, like his sweet and sometimes misguided advice to brother David, but they also get him into trouble. When he makes yet another imprudent move, while he's drunk to boot, his excuse -- or realization -- that he's just a "dumb kid" feels significant. He even asks his mom how much more growing up he still has left to do. Your twenties can be fun, but the uncertainty and the missteps can be difficult, too. Raiff's performance makes Andrew feel somehow both rock solid and trustworthy, yet always on the verge of possibly breaking down. Johnson matches him, as does Mann as his unstable but loving mom. When Domino and Andrew eventually break up (as you suspect they will all along), the scene captures the essence of what's so fundamentally different about being an unencumbered 22-year-old versus a 30-something with dependents and responsibilities. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Image courtesy of AppleTV+.

Three incredible performances make this hilariously dark send-up of the film industry entertaining from start to finish, though it might not be every viewer's cup of tea. Official Competition captures the egotism of its characters, each of whom has his or her own self-serving artistic beliefs and methods. The way that Cruz, Banderas, and veteran Argentine actor Martínez capture this in their stances, glances, and sweeping pronouncements is both hysterical and cringe-worthy for its likely similarity to real-life film industry folks. An empty warehouse rehearsal, with a "house" simply cordoned off, suggests Lars von Trier's experimental Dogville. Closing scenes add to the pile of targets with red carpet photo calls and a pompous press conference. Anyone who's been to these kinds of events or worked in the film industry will recognize the "types" on display, and this film might appeal especially to critics and insiders. But thanks to the high-caliber actors and the absurd twists and turns of the story, the film should also appeal more broadly. Its nearly two hour run time flies by. The film-within-the-film is based on a book about a rivalry between two brothers, a "competition" that's paralleled hilariously in the two actors. A master of the humble brag, Iván practices a speech renouncing an Oscar, skewers the lack of originality in mainstream entertainment, and absolutely insists on flying coach and rejecting big paychecks. Meanwhile, Banderas' Félix (a potentially meta character for the actor, since he's a global star who must defend his studio films to fellow actors), has macrobiotic food and a no face-touching policy written into his contracts. And as the wild-haired Lola, Cruz's artistic and existential angst hints at how meaningless some of her aspirations and techniques might actually be. The film's cold, modern settings reflect this hollowness (with a nod to a millionaire's vast but empty "foundation" space). Likewise, there's symbolism in the film's use of screens, cameras, and especially mirrors to reflect fractured, enlarged, imitative images back at the characters. Read the full review on Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of IFC Films.

It is only when he’s dancing that Brazilian teen Irlan Santos da Silva says he feels like himself. Born and raised in one of Rio de Janeiro’s impoverished favelas, ballet has offered Irlan an escape from the chaos of the city streets. He confides this to director Beadie Finzi’s omnipresent camera in the 2009 documentary Only When I Dance, an intimate character portrait of two young dancers following their passion to overcome the odds of their upbringing in the Brazilian metropolis. The second teen is Isabela Coracy Alves Nascimento Santos, one of the only black ballerinas at their dance school, the Centro de Danca Rio. Her dream is to dance in a classical ballet company, an ambition their teacher, Mariza Estrella, notes is next to impossible in Brazil because of her race. Instead, Mariza is intent on helping Isabela land a spot with an international company. To do that, she’ll need to participate in local, national and international competitions to get noticed. This takes money, of which her family has precious little. The documentary opens on Irlan dancing on the rooftop of a building, shanty-dotted hills in the background framed by his body as he elegantly twists, bends and leaps across the surface. According to Mariza, Irlan is one of Brazil’s most promising young dancers. The film bears this out as it follows him to success at stiff competitions in Lausanne, Switzerland and New York City. Isabela isn’t so lucky. Apart from racial discrimination, she’s also critiqued for her weight, which causes a lot of stress (and to the layman’s eyes is frankly hard to accept). Her family can barely scrape together the funds to get her to the competition in New York, taking on extra jobs and loans. When she doesn’t place in the individual competition, it’s clear that might be the end of her as-yet unlaunched career. Mariza is uncomfortably direct in telling Isabela it’s not worth returning to the competition before she loses weight and gets more training. Isabela thanks her through tears for her honesty. These highs and lows are gripping because they feel like they’re happening in real time as you watch the documentary (even though the film was shot in 2008, which only calls the attention when people whip out digital cameras rather than smartphones). The film takes on heightened emotion because the stars are still kids and you want them to do well, especially teens with so much talent in light of such difficult life circumstances. The favelas are a place, interviewees note, where kids are easily drawn into the drug life and gunshots ring out regularly. Serious and soft-spoken, Irlan and Isabela have both avoided this path thanks to their passion for dance. When Irlan sees snow for ostensibly the first time on his trip to Europe, and Isabela first glimpses the lights of the Big Apple, the moments carry extra meaning for who they are and where they’ve come from. Still, it’s the parents who are the surprise stars of this documentary. Irlan’s dad explains how he initially disapproved of his son’s pastime until he watched him dance; now he’s his biggest supporter and, to the chagrin of the teenager, has Irlan’s name tattooed on his forearm. Isabela’s dad breaks down crying when he confronts the possibility of not being able to provide for his daughter’s dreams. When Irlan leaves home at the end of the film, we see his parents a little dazed by their empty nest. When they prepare to go out on a date night, they put on make-up and shave in tiny mirrors hung in awkward spots in their home. In another scene at Isabela’s, we momentarily glimpse the director with camera in a mirror. Whether this was intentionally left in the film or unintentionally not edited out, it serves as yet another reminder of the very tight spaces her subjects live in. Finzi appears to have had extensive access to both families and the dance studio, and her camera accompanied the dancers on two international trips. Mariza could have come off as the bad guy in the film with her blunt advice to Isabela and her luxury apartment in a “nouveau riche” district high-rise with sea views, such a contrast to the favela dwellings. But the documentary doesn’t make that judgement itself, and it shows how much the kids come to rely on and care for their teacher. She revels in their successes and shares suffering in their defeats. She is also the one who notes that it’s precisely the kids from the favelas who grab every opportunity with determination. A closing scene shows Isabela mentoring another, younger black ballerina, suggesting change may be coming. A follow-up documentary more than a decade later would likely be welcomed by viewers. This review originally ran on The Alliance of Women Film Journalists.

This may be the most serious retelling yet of the classic family tale, and the updated setting and characters give it a whole new life. There's definitely comedy in this version of Father of the Bride, but, from the very beginning, the tone is more "middle-age existential crisis" than "bumbling patriarch." The movie opens with Garcia summarizing his rags-to-riches immigrant tale in a voiceover and concluding, "So if I did everything right, how the hell did I end up here?" Flash to Billy and Ingrid on opposite ends of a therapist's couch. Their pending divorce and marital issues are portrayed as realistic, not comedic, and both actors seem more comfortable in the dramatic range. Their characters have built an enviable life, full of extended family, which the film embraces as both cultural and a device to get viewers invested in their reconciliation. Sofia's family is Cuban American, and the in-laws-to-be are Mexican, a combo that provides some cultural humor, as well as "teachable moments." The film confronts stereotypes in ways both funny (the clueless wedding planner pitching a flamenco-flamingo themed wedding, or Cuban and Mexican men hurling colloquial insults at each other) and insightful (Garcia correcting "immigrant" to "exile" and stressing "I don't know what Latinx means"). The characters are also grappling with a lot of generational change, including gender roles. When a Mexican character asks a group from the two families why they're all speaking English, it's a meta moment for the film, but characters continue to use English together even in private pairs. Still, some Spanish is thrown in, and not all of it subtitled. That, together with Mexican director Gaz Alazraki and cinematographer Igor Jadue-Lillo's loving filming of Miami, suggests that the story, while universal, is playing directly to a Latino audience. The Latin jazz soundtrack is a bonus. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of HBOMax.

Though documentaries like this are intended to be flattering, the most absorbing of the breed, this one included, also reveal fresh sides to their subjects and new information for viewers. That's no easy task with some celebrities, like J. Lo, who've been in the public eye for decades. Halftime reviews her long career adeptly by weaving past and present together in a single, overarching narrative. The story isn't just Jenny from the Block; the documentary attempts to craft the image of a survivor who's persisted and arrived at a newfound maturity as a person and a performer. It blends media clips from her career with interviews and tape from her then-non-stop rehearsal schedule. It also weaves Trump-era news footage together with the background of her own Puerto Rican family's struggle to make it in America. Capitalizing on a major year of professional accomplishments and timed with the star's 50th birthday, the film promotes Lopez' endurance as a Latina role model despite a longstanding critical devaluation of her work as a performer, and it ties it all together with the contemporary political moment. "I'm not into politics," Lopez says, then notes that the Trump-era anti-immigrant climate changed all that. She even insists on infusing her Super Bowl halftime show with political messages. The film's final section is the bow on top: she sings "This Land Is Your Land" symbolically at the Biden-Harris inauguration, and end credits detail her non-profit work and the dollar figure actuality of her brand. Of course, plenty is left out, and it would be particularly fascinating to hear and see Shakira's side of that halftime performance story. But the end result is an uplifting tale about, as one companion calls her, "a woman of color who had the audacity to pursue her dreams." Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This sports film will delight basketball fans, but at heart, it's a tender relationship tale about two men and their journey to finally live up to their full potential. Sugerman and Cruz also discover a father/son-like bond in Hustle, which is underscored in a moving scene in which Bo's mother advises him not to ignore the love and dedication that Sugerman has shown him -- and again in a symbolic tattoo that one character gets. The film soars thanks to Sandler's star performance: He toggles seamlessly between drama and comedy (the latter thankfully understated here). As an actor, mature roles like this are where Sandler does his best work. As a character, Sugerman has settled into middle age. "Guys in their fifties don't have dreams -- they have nightmares and eczema," he says, but he does still have a dream -- and Bo embodies it. Pro player Hernangomez is excellent as a talented ingénue with both a temper and a heart of gold. There are so many cameos by current and veteran players in this film that you have to wonder how much hustling Sandler and his co-producers (including LeBron James) had to do themselves to round up the star-studded crew. Philly fans, affectionately mocked as "the best because they're the worst," will love this tribute (much has already been made about a local donut shirt that Sandler sports). The film rests on its performances (Queen Latifah is a great choice as Sugerman's wife) and story, with the anticipated highs and lows of any good sports movie. There are occasionally perplexing jolts of the camera, Cruz's English goes from basic to fluent in a heartbeat, and Foster's villain is a little over the top, but that's all nitpicking in a movie with this much well-timed humor and genuine heart. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

Enveloped within the racy language and explicit sexual content of this film are some hearteningly authentic messages about friends, family, and romantic love. That duality makes Fire Island a journey of discovery for viewers as much as for the characters, who find love in unexpected places, Pride and Prejudice-style. We're guided along by the straight-talking and drily funny narration of Noah (played by Joel Kim Booster, who also wrote the script). It proves helpful to have him as a tour guide for the island's traditional festivities, and Booster also takes on a tongue-in-cheek anthropologist's tone in explaining some aspects of the gay community. Of course, this group can't represent an entire community. The eclectic ensemble represents a makeshift family of gay friends eschewed by family and -- in the case of the Asian men especially -- mistreated by others. There will be people -- gay and not -- turned off by the film's portrayal of promiscuity and partying. But that's where the genuine love stories of Howie and Charlie and Noah and Will come in to balance things out. A climactic "pre-9/11 rom-com" style ending for one pair, and a romantic dance on the pier for another, offer satisfying and surprisingly traditional closure for the on-screen couples. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Hulu.

This suspenseful action film gets bogged down by some convoluted character motives, but the formula works, and Pataky is credible as a Die Hard-style hero. Interceptor should serve as a calling card for Spain-born Pataky, of Fast & Furious fame, who's been circling Hollywood leading lady roles for decades. The movie is strongest on the action front, with a perfectly claustrophobic mid-sea setting and well-choreographed fights. There are also memorable moments confirming villain Kessel's instability, like when he draws a sad face with his finger in fresh blood. Other characters, like Shah and Beaver (Aaron Glenane), feel more like simplistic representations of ideas -- i.e. Beaver's screen-saver of a blond woman with a machine gun in front of an American flag. They're an example of script tries but struggles to go deep. Lots of big ideas are thrown around in this Australian co-production about capitalism, American exceptionalism, immigration, the American dream, and more. But none of them really explain the terrorists' motives and why they're fine with nuking 12 different densely populated metropolitan areas. Instead, they come off sounding a bit like a first-year college student who's just discovered that he disagrees with his parents' worldview. An uncredited role by Pataky's real-life husband, Chris Hemsworth, could have been worked into the storyline better to make it less conspicuously gratuitous. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This pleasant Disney film skates on the surface of its characters, setting, and themes, keeping it wholesome but also wholly unrealistic. Hollywood Stargirl's characters are purposefully naïve, and in the case of Stargirl and love interest Evan (an adorable Richardson), this feels appropriate and even sweet because of their age. For other characters, like the "grumpy" former producer, jaded failed singer, and aspiring filmmaker big brother, a little more edge would have added depth and a small dose of realism. Likewise, Hollywood and Los Angeles are properly cleaned up and sunlit. VanderWaal's Jean Seberg-inspired hair and wardrobe are fabulous, even if a bit over the top for your average teen. Then again, the entire point seems to be that Stargirl is anything but average: She has innate talent (VanderWaal does have a memorable voice and more singing from her would have been nice), inordinately good luck, and the power to change people's lives with her charm and confidence. She also doesn't own a phone. "I'm Stargirl," she introduces herself to her older neighbor. "Of course you are," he replies sarcastically. It doesn't take long for her to wear down his hard outer-edge with her kindness and innocence. The film may have the same effect on its viewers. Read the full review on Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Disney+.

This remake may be predictable and formulaic, but the combination of actors and the blend of humor with sweetness lifts it a notch above. The Valet could have been satisfied to just play on class and cultural stereotypes around the two main characters. It does this, and to especially funny effect thanks to Derbez's comic talent. A scene where he's confused ordering at a fancy restaurant, then mistaken for a waiter, is priceless, as is his sudden hero status among the working class. Another scene where he and his buddies stop to pick up fast food while whisking a passed-out movie star away from her film premiere is also hilarious. Their no-nonsense behavior of paying in all one-dollar bills, stashing ketchup packets for later, and discussing the special speed limit for Latinos contrasts comically yet poignantly with the celebrity's self-imposed woes. Played by veteran Carmen Salinas (before her death in 2021), Antonio's elderly mother's insistence on discussing her sexual desire with her mortified son is another running gag. The storyline has Antonio and Olivia both gain confidence from their relationship to improve their own lives. Derbez is undoubtedly the star of this film, but Weaving provides a good match for him. Greenfield essentially plays the same character as the one that made him famous on New Girl, but he's always amusing and likable despite bad behavior. The film also has some unexpectedly sweet touches, like the friendship that arises between two lonely, soft-boiled detectives or the relationship between Antonio's mom and her Korean neighbor that unexpectedly blends two immigrant families. A funeral scene is surprisingly moving, showing Derbez's dramatic chops as well. The writers were smart to make sure Antonio mentioned the age difference between him and Olivia to give them an out from actually trying to make the coupling work -- this would have felt forced and could have undermined the movie as a whole. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Hulu.