‘Judas and the Black Messiah’ review: Galvanizing, shocking and true

The latest from T.J.Martin and Daniel Lindsay, directors of “Undefeated” and “LA 92,” “TINA” looks like another documentary that came off of a factory line, complete with the usual panning shots of contact sheets, dramatic zooms into rolling tapes, cross-cutting between audio interviews and their published print versions, melodramatic score cues doing their best to emulate Philip Glass.

Every Tuesday, discriminating viewers are confronted with a flurry of choices: new releases on disc and on-demand, vintage, and original movies on any number of streaming platforms, catalog titles making a splash on Blu-ray or 4K. This biweekly column sifts through all of those choices to pluck out the movies most worth your time, no matter how you’re watching.

her directing debut, however, is its soulfulness. Her character, Edee, isn’t some spoiled brat stranded in the woods like Tea Leoni in “Six Days Seven Nights”; she is a traumatized woman trying to rebuild her life from the ground up.Edee’s reality has been shattered by a family tragedy, so she packs up the car and leaves the city behind for a cabin deep in the Wyoming wilderness far removed from civilization.

HBO Max, the latest film from Warner Bros. to drop on both the same day.

A sun-flared and bong-addled tumble into a teenage Texan summer rife with bombshells and boyfriend problems, “Cusp,” from debut directors Parker Hill and Isabel Bethencourt is one of those fractal-style documentaries, in which any given sliver contains all the colors and contours of the whole.

Take the nomad out of “Nomadland,” and you’re left with “Land,” Robin Wright‘s feature-directing debut (she previously directed 10 episodes of “House of Cards“), in which she also stars, as a grieving woman who, somewhat ironically given the film bows in the era of mandatory isolation, moves way up into the mountains “to get away from people.” Problem is, take the nomadic element out of “Nomadland” (she moves only once and has done with it) and you’re also left with a less interesting, much more

Sundance Film Festival after the movie’s premiere Monday night of the scene in which he delivers Hampton’s famed “I am a revolutionary” speech.“When I say I can’t remember what I did, I didn’t have an idea about how I was going to play something. I just knew I was a vessel.

As a child, Mendel explored the nearby forests of Michoacán, a state in Mexico, with his older brother Vicente. The trees there are filled with massive, beautiful clusters of monarch butterflies.

13-year-old Sammy Ko (Miya Cech) is a problem child. Prone to skipping class, smoking cigarettes, and mouthing off to her teachers, she’s the opposite of the meek model student Hollywood typically imagines when writing young Asian-American characters.

For most teens, the scariest hurdle they’ll face is asking their crush out on a first date. But on this night, for the bashful Mike (Tyson Brown), preparing for his first outing with the headstrong Kelsey (Shelby Duclos), courting is the least of his issues.

Hollywood’s favorite thing to do — but instead suggests what the healing process might look like after living through a nightmare.The first remark to really shake us up comes as the couples are sharing old photos, which their therapists have suggested. Gail hands one to Linda and says, “That’s the last Christmas.” Silence.Later on, while talking about the unfathomable challenge of being the parents of a loathed murderer, Linda painfully confides, “The world mourned 10.

Literally opening, as the title implies, with “The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet,” Argentinian director Ana Katz’s melancholic rumination on the life of Sebastian (Daniel Katz, the filmmaker’s brother), a languishing writer turned migrant worker, is a visually stunning, but oftentimes opaque experiment. Filmed in lush black and white, with animated interludes used to portray the more devastating aspects of Sebastian’s life, Katz’s film unfurls as a series of vignettes.

Abuse leaves scars unseen but permanent in director Lyle Mitchell Corbine Jr.’s debut “Wild Indian,” a character study wrapped in larger observations on the generational effects of violence and religious guilt. In it, two men marked by a single crime lead distinctively dysfunctional lives.

In the aftermath of unprecedented change, it’s anyone’s guess where the planet will be by the conclusion of the 2020s. As the globe shifts into the second year of the oncoming decade, questions regarding the future of the species have arisen, specifically concerning the ever-increasing relationship between humanity and technology.

With her frayed blonde hair and moody coal-black eye makeup, rock band singer Marian (Alessandra Messa) doesn’t immediately appear to resemble her identical twin sister. Practically a Stepford wife with her demure manner and neat brown bob, Vivian (Ani Messa) lives with her loser husband (Jake Hoffman) in the same house the sisters grew up in.

Hauling two packages home under both arms, Leonor’s (Amalia Ulman) mother María (Ale Ulman) bursts through the door of their small apartment, proclaiming she will never return Amazon purchases for her again. Her daughter isn’t home.

To call a portrait documentary an “affectionate tribute” to its lesser-known subject, is usually redundant. That’s the whole point of adoring acknowledgment docs of this ilk— “shining a brighter spotlight” on [insert criminally undervalued subject here].

You are being watched. In the era of facial recognition, targeted advertising, and social media, the threat of an omnipresent eye on the average human has passed.

Something like a documentary “Inception” with a story inside of a tale that is itself part of a narrative, “Misha and the Wolves” boasts several layers, all of them fascinating. Concerned with notions of legacy, trauma, memory, and deceit, the documentary by director Sam Hobkinson juggles multiple stories, people, and time periods with seeming ease, weaving a fascinating, multi-faceted tale in a tight 85 minutes.

After spending the last 10 months at home watching reruns of “The Office” (at least until the show left Netflix at the end of 2020), the idea of spending even another 90 minutes with Ed Helms probably sounds like a punishment inflicted on the slothful in the Fifth Circle of Hell.