Jonah Hill is masterful at delivering an absurd story with so much sweetness, the nonsense ceases to get in the way.

Martha Marcy May Marlene enters so richly into psychological horror it recalls those disturbing dramatizations of Jonestown that were big on TV in the '80s.

Ultimately, the film is made for longevity, like all the best Disney titles are. However, it's also a ready-made Broadway show, with numbers, dialogue and even drama-club histrionics all pre-packaged for immediate adaptation to stage.

The beauty of the film and what ultimately makes it more timeless than trenchant, is the way it side-steps the entire issue of Hanna's sex.

Gripping, offensive and bewildering, Tabloid is a mean-spirited masterpiece.

The film is really a valentine to the fans.

Instead of venturing into mournful "Terms of Endearment" territory, the film - and the filmmakers - commit to a relentless determination to live.

The Dish and The Spoon boasts the efficiency and tidiness of early American indies like Rob Nilsson's "Heat and Sunlight," while it relocates its foreign film-like emotional landscapes to more native climes.

Journalist and director Allison Klayman doesn't mask her awe of the man, who comes off as a cross between a wise Buddha-figure and Santa Claus - he's made for history, and he's making it.

An uplifting, high energy documentary.

A clearly personal effort, Somewhere demonstrates Coppola's featherweight touch with big subjects like identity and human connection.

Equally nostalgic and fresh-faced, Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench is a bohemian musical that owes as much to Cassavetes "Shadows" as it does the French musicals of the '30s.

This oddball tale of life on a snowy mountainside is consistently upbeat and surprising, with action intensity that stays sturdily at "Goonies" level.

Katz, however, is great with gentle moments (his most dear and haunting is the final scene), and he handles the balance of mystery and family drama quite adeptly.

A family drama that looks for answers in coincidence (is it really ever coincidence?), this endearing and breezy comic fable watches Jeff's coming of age and promises nothing after his moment of truth.

Lovers of Hate would be a family tragedy if the immature antics of the three characters didn't send you ping-ponging from sympathetic chuckles to guffaws of disgust.

David Lowery's St. Nick provides plenty to marvel at.

As divisive as his documentary "Kurt and Courtney," this made-for-British-TV doc by Nick Broomfield begins with the promise of neutrality - but it's a promise the film can't keep.

The messy uplift audiences can expect from this butterfly awakening they'll get in spades.

OKA!, like the mysterious horn the characters hunt, is a real find.

It's a mixed blessing to see these dramas play out in Norwegian, surrounded by what we tend to imagine are more liberal perspectives on sex.

It's full of really subtle dichotomies and internal conflicts, but what makes Julius' story seem authentic is how totally incongruous it feels.

You'll laugh and be offended, but if you watch it and don't want to be part of the solution, you'll know which side of the line you're on. Activism takes some unique forms.

What it provides (instead of the thematically clever dialogue of typically subtle French comedy) is biting wit, poignancy and, forsaking some structural nuisances, the summer's best bromance.

The Master is big screen marvel intended for 70mm projection (a rare treat), with some beautiful imagery, but often inaudible dialogue. Phoenix's lived-in mumble comes off about as clear as Fenster from The Usual Suspects and Amy Adam's precise diction can't even save her harshest talking points.

The film knows the aesthetic of enlightenment, the filmmakers demonstrate adoration for their subject, but whether or not the film grasps the principle further is very arguable.

In sum, the film is not without its sweetness. Carell's Barry retells the story of his life in dioramas populated completely with costumed, stuffed mice.

Directorially, the film takes a few too many trips into prosaic slow motion.