Despite some shortcomings in the story and an overly long running time, this French action movie provides entertainment, excitement, and two likable main characters from a 2012 prequel. The Takedown (Loin du périph) rightly banks on the congeniality and charisma of Sy and Lafitte, who have natural on-screen chemistry. Its dual setting is equally attractive, moving between Paris (including some striking overhead shots) and a provincial town at the base of the magnificent Alps. The action moves very fast and tries to stuff a bit too much into its two hours, leaving some plot points concerning the conspiracy incomplete. Even fans of subtitles might want to watch this movie dubbed to catch everything said and seen. The film can feel like a flashback to blockbuster '90s-era action flicks, particularly in its masculine protagonist duo of disobedient but crime-busting cops with witty, rapid-fire repartee. The pointed ribbing between the men might not sit well with all audiences. But the political intrigue at the story's heart feels ripped from headlines, and any exploration of nationalism and racism in contemporary global settings should hold interest today, particularly shrouded in a crowd-pleasing package like this one. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Netflix.

This film will likely appeal to the youngest of viewers, who might revel in the always-silly antics of the big dog and appreciate the movie's positive story, undemanding characters, and fart humor. Marmaduke is an irrepressible but loveable oaf, a winning combination that explains so many spinoffs of the classic comic strip. This version, available in 3D, doesn't bring a lot of new ideas to the table. It puts Marmaduke in obedience training and up against world champions in dog shows. It's a set-up for disaster, which comes in the form of a major incidence of intestinal discomfort from over-eating. It's also a classic underdog set-up for triumph, which the Great Dane of course perennially deserves. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Image courtesy of Netflix.

The majestic footage of the Arctic alone is worth your time in this documentary. The filmmakers behind Polar Bear spent many seasons following and filming bears to create this movie, with overhead shots and close-ups that take your breath away. That's the real job behind a documentary like this one, but in order to bring the "characters" alive, the filmmakers also need a story. In this case, they've opted to narrate the lives of a mama bear and her two cubs -- one male and one female -- from the perspective of the female cub (voiced by Catherine Keener). It doesn't make the film action packed, but there's emotion in hunting ("stalking") and death scenes in particular. The trick with Polar Bear's narrative approach is that it assigns the bears human emotions. Skeptical viewers might wonder if a bear actually knows when she's had "the best day" of her life. But the animals' behavior surely offers enough clues for when they're feeling happy, satisfied, scared, etc. There are three occasions when the narrative is frustratingly vague -- when a death goes unexplained, when a cub and mama part ways but we aren't told exactly why this is customary, and when two bears mate and the narrator, oddly for a nature documentary, describes it in euphemisms about being "courted" and being "provided" with a family of one's own. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

This Swedish thriller is an example of an action film that would have benefited from more story, and it could leave viewers as cold as its icy Nordic atmosphere. Black Crab dunks viewers into a bleak, ashen world with no back story or explanation of how things got so bad. Rapace, Oftebro, Salim, and other actors aren't given enough backstory to bring their characters fully to life, though their talent still comes alive on screen. A final vision of a mother's underwater embrace of her missing daughter is stirring. There are some gorgeous aerial and distance shots of the skaters on the ice and a depiction of the aurora borealis, attractive nature that contrasts starkly with the violent context. There's also one short-lived light moment of conversation at the near one-hour mark of the film, meaning the tension is pretty constant. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

There's a lot of fodder and several funny and heartwarming moments in this movie, but some scenarios are too far-fetched and others overly contrived. Elements of the humor in Rumspringa also fail to land (or maybe just to translate). Holdenrieder is believable enough as the earnest, wide-eyed Amish in Berlin, and his mutually educational relationship with Alf is heartwarming as they go from bros to brothers. The emotional bonding of the male friendship is definitely the highlight of the film, while Alf's and Jacob's romantic relationships with Freya and Ina feel more like plot devices. Uninteresting secondary characters, like roommate Mr. Bo, could've been cut to make room for more of the primary relationships. Flashbacks to Jacob's life in Pennsylvania help explain his behavior, but some actions, like a radical haircut or stealing Alf's car, feel too far out of character. As Alf and Ina quickly discover, Jacob's simple, structured worldview offers much calm in their scattered modern lives. When a pretentious art collector calls his Amish background impressively "authentic," it sums up the lack of identity and purpose so many seem to feel in contemporary society, and which Jacob -- whose purpose he says is to "be a good person" -- has in spades. As such, it feels somewhat contradictory that Jacob keeps extending his year abroad, but the connections he makes and the awakenings he experiences are largely depicted as sweet and a natural part of growing up he might otherwise have missed. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Image courtesy of Netflix.

Despite excellent actors and story material with plenty of potential, this French dramatic comedy doesn't succeed as a drama or as a comedy. The humor in I Love America is especially disappointing, considering how rich the possibilities were with a 50-year-old Parisian in Los Angeles on dates with strangers met through a dating app. One encounter with a Danish nudist is novel and funny, but other scenes are bland and predictable. It would seem the film aims to shock with its frankness about sexuality, but that's a tall order for a tale set in contemporary LA, and ultimately even the attempt feels outdated. The dramatic elements involve forging new love in middle age as well as reconciling with one's past. Some of Lisa's story is presumably autobiographical for writer-director Azuelos, the daughter of French singer Marie Laforet, who passed away in 2019. The film reenacts the past in flashbacks, but considering the acting talent Azuelos had on hand, this feels like a waste and the scenes at the boarding school in particular get repetitive. Lisa's relationship with John strikes a genuine note and deserved more screen time, as did Luka's authentic love connection glossed over at the end. The acting in this film is very natural, and Marceau is a pro, making I Love America not exactly lovable but at least watchable. Read the full review at Common Sense Media. Images courtesy of Amazon Prime Video.

Happening (L’Evénément) is a riveting film, from start to finish. The story about a young woman who finds herself unintentionally pregnant in 1960s France, a time and place where abortions were illegal, is universal and powerful, at once heartbreaking and liberating. Sixty years have passed since that era, yet the film holds powerful messages today in the face of pushback on women’s reproductive rights. The film is based on the semi-autobiographical book by Annie Ernaux. Star Anamaria Vartolomei brings a ferocity to the role of Annie, a literature student who stands out intellectually in the lecture hall but doesn’t really get along with many of her classmates. It seems some of the other girls think she’s a “slut,” but her pale, placid face exudes confidence and indifference. She appears unconcerned with their knowing stares and uninterested in the advances of a string of boys. When Annie discovers she’s pregnant, she looks the (male, because they’re all male) doctor in the eyes and commands him to “do something.” He begs off, chastising her that they could both go to jail for the mere discussion of it. Thus starts Annie’s journey to end her pregnancy so she can begin her life. “I’d like a child one day,” she says, ” but not instead of a life.” She doesn’t realize just how hard it will be to find a solution in the oppressive context of the era, much less actual help or emotional support. Happening does a spectacular job rendering that atmosphere of repression. As Annie notes of the student dance parties they all attend, everyone there wants the same thing but nobody can admit it. Frustration is rampant. Her best friend demonstrates how to masturbate with a pillow, confessing she knows this is all she can have despite wanting more. We realize Annie attracts male attention because they think they might actually get somewhere with her. When she confides in one male friend about the pregnancy, he makes a pass at her, arguing in the logic of his day that ‘there’s no risk’ considering she’s already pregnant. The baby’s father washes his hands of the situation. Her female friends want nothing to do with it either. We feel Annie’s disappointment in the people around her and growing panic that she won’t find a solution in time. The film announces each week of the pregnancy, adding to the sense of a clock ticking. But Annie is also stoic, resourceful and determined. In desperation, she tries to abort the fetus herself with a sharp implement. It’s an excruciatingly painful scene, and it’s the first of several that get increasingly more violent. All of this is filmed in a remarkably honest and straightforward manner, scaffolded by natural lighting and sound. Director Audrey Diwan and director of photography Laurent Tangy follow Annie closely at all times, forcing the viewer to live the story from her perspective and not shy away from her harsh reality. In doing so, the film clearly empathizes with her plight. This film required a genuine and physically demanding performance from Vartolomei, and one based more on gestures and looks than dialogue. Her wide, intelligent eyes seem to take in and understand everything. Annie demonstrates a fortitude and self-possession in the face of insults, deceptions and extreme physical duress. When she gets a modicum of relief, in the form of friends showing her kindness or a moment of normalcy with her parents or even a taboo fulfillment of desire, we feel relieved too. A climactic, graphic scene could have felt gratuitous in the hands of a less capable director and actor. It will turn off some viewers, as the film as a whole surely will. But it is as emotional and overwhelming a moment for the viewer as for the character. Despite her resilience, Annie’s fate feels almost entirely out of her hands the whole movie, right up until the very last scene where she picks up her pen to take her final exams and start writing the rest of her life. Originally published for the Alliance of Women Film Journalists. Images courtesy of IFC.

This anime film has an emotional story of human connection at its core that helps keep it interesting beyond the nonstop action, some intentionally grating characters, and an apocalyptic setting. Bubble's animators have created a disturbing world where buildings have collapsed, Tokyo has flooded, and random structures float in the air. It's the perfect setting for the orphaned misfits to practice their parkour. Their feats are deliberately far-fetched, and the mutual taunting gets tiresome, but it's nonetheless exciting to watch them leap and twirl in the air. The bubbles are also almost hypnotic in their mysterious beauty. The traits that make Hibiki unique among his peers are unveiled slowly as his relationship with the enigmatic Uta deepens. The connection between these two special characters is heightened with scenes played in slow motion and long pauses where they stare into each other's spherical eyes, effectively building up to an emotional scene of Uta's disappearance. Viewers can find messages about climate change, war, planetary catastrophes, and eventual renewal, though the archive images spliced in to try to hit these messages home weren't necessary. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

This romantic comedy from Mexico packages some timely life lessons for teens and parents in a bright and bubbly exterior. Anonymously Yours relies on the likeability of its cast, particularly star Annie Cabello as Valeria. Cabello delivers a credible and charming performance as a high school senior obsessed with movies but whose parents have other plans for her. A love for cinema comes across in the tale. The filmmaker's use of vivid colors in settings and wardrobes matches the spirited energy of the teen cast, and the message about letting young people pursue their dreams is conveyed in a positive and healthy way. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

This funny albeit uneven Mexican comedy is a buddy road movie that has some not-so-subtle messages about toxic masculinity. Frantic with jealousy, Tomás imagines myriad ways to kill his wife's lover in Backseat Driver (¿Y Cómo Es Él?), each more violent than the last. But he's slowly worn down by Jero's positivity and his own basic goodness. The pair have some funny moments and one-liners, mostly involving down-and-out Tomás' many misfortunes (he doesn't exactly "radiate success and prosperity," Jero notes, and he can't grow a beard), which are contrasted with Jero's apparent surplus of wealth and charm. But things aren't always what they seem, which viewers realize as the curtain is pulled back gradually on Jero's financial problems, his "low-budget Romeo" act, and his cheap pickup lines that are specially crafted for each decade of a woman's life. Here, two men critiqued as "macho" are forced to confront their own vulnerabilities, discovering in each other an unlikely companion for their journey. A scene in which the two drunkenly role-play a confrontation between Tomás and his wife is hilarious, capitalizing on the chemistry between the two popular actors. The film teases a possible attraction between them, a cliché that's problematic but at least done here with a wink and a nod. The subtext is that it's actually healthy for a man to cuddle his best friend, tell him he loves him, forgive a woman for cheating, and/or see a therapist. Of course, that progressive message is offset in other ways, like Jero's familiarity with a brothel or Tomás' Cheshire cat grin when he sneaks a peek at Jero's privates. The film has some technical shortcomings, including clumsy edits, a great soundtrack undermined by splices of heavy-handed original music, and an overly simplistic assassin subplot. But joining the stars on their road trip ultimately proves to be a surprisingly entertaining adventure. Read the full review on Common Sense Media.

This teen romantic tragedy aims to up the ante on a familiar genre with grander artistic aspirations, more sophisticated characters, and supernatural elements. If the seriousness works, it's thanks to King's and Allen's acting in The In Between. They avoid hitting false notes, and the script veers clear of too-obvious stereotypes (the "jock" and the "artist"). It does try a tad too hard to depict the pair of high school seniors as sophisticated beyond their years, speaking multiple languages, enjoying French cinema, debating British fiction, snapping artsy black-and-white photos, and attending gallery openings. The pretensions are passable because they fit with the characters' backstories and are woven into their love story, not just introduced and dropped. The pair is also contrasted against other, more typical teens, but there's a refreshing lack of obnoxious portrayals here too. Tessa has a literal broken heart when Skylar dies, confirming her long-held belief that love never lasts. She keeps people at arm's length, hiding behind her camera. We learn this through a back-and-forth narrative counting down to Skylar's fatal accident and following her grief-fueled insistence afterwards that he's still trying to communicate with her. A couple of these scenes are chill-inducing, but the film isn't scary and doesn't aim to be. It is, however, noticeably visually dark at moments, for example in the movie theater, the darkroom, an abandoned hotel, and at night. Tessa's loss is processed in a protracted spiritual meeting with Skylar in the afterlife "in between" (complete with a Parisian rendezvous, faintly echoing La La Land's dreamlike post-script). She discovers life is actually worth living after all. It's a positive message viewers can feel good about, even through tears. Read the full review at Common Sense Media.

The Tale of King Crab (Re Granchio) is a moody Italian drama that weaves a wandering narrative of misfortune, desperation and redemption. It could potentially be read as a treatment on mental illness and alcoholism, or perhaps on the imprecision of oral histories. Either way, it is at its core a story of, by and for men split into two very different chapters, one shot in Italian and the other in Spanish. Scruffy, long-bearded Luciano (Gabriele Silli) is an outcast in his village in the 1800s. Back from institutionalization in Rome, he is struggling to keep his consumption at bay. His reputation will also keep him from being allowed to pursue the love of his life, Emma (Alexandra Lungu), whose father does not approve of their relationship and has plans to attach her to the local prince. Meanwhile, Luciano is uniquely angered by the prince’s closure of a walkway near the palace. He breaks down the locked door and eventually sets fire to it. There is surely a larger question at stake about the entitlement of nobility, and Luciano enrages the prince’s guards by calling them “pawns,” but any resentment is left otherwise unexplored. Viewers may in fact feel a lot is left unexplained in this movie. Luciano’s tale is told, partly sung, by a gathering of elderly men in a bar in contemporary times. They introduce the story and appear again midway to discuss some of the details. Their recollection of the tale feels almost improvised, and they dispute some of the specifics. The story has been passed down over generations from a time ‘before there was television.’ The structure of the film further emphasizes the unreliability of the tale we are being told with a back-and-forth narrative that teases parts of the story then flushes them out with explanations later. While King Crab is slow-moving and will likely turn some audiences off, this narrative structure does help keep an enigmatic tale interesting. This is particularly true in the second half of the film, which is broken into two chapters. Here, Luciano has been exiled to the southern tip of South America known as the “land of fire” (Tierra de Fuego). He’s dressed as a priest and competing against other bandits seeking storied treasure left in the region. Why he was exiled and how he came to be taken for a priest are explained later. The harsh conditions and promise of gold pit a motley group of men against each other in violent ways. Adding to the mood is a trade-off not just in setting but also in style and tone from the first to the second chapter of the movie. We start in a leafy Italian village where Luciano and Emma frolic in the lush overbrush surrounding a sparkling lake. There’s a lot of close-up, handheld camera work. When the action moves to Argentina (and the dialogue switches from Italian to Spanish), the camera starts to take a wider perspective, particularly towards the end as the men duel it out on an expansive rocky terrain filmed strikingly from the air. Luciano is a bit of a mystery as well, a man of few words and piercing blue eyes who has seen better days. “I feel empty,” he confides at one point. “I’m nothing but a drunk.” His is a sad and violent tale, and its moral or the point of the movie as a whole feel very much up for individual interpretation. Originaly published for the Alliance for Women Film Journalists. Images courtesy of Oscilloscope Laboratories.