How does David Byrne follow-up Stop Making Sense, the concert documentary that birthed an entire genre, even if it’s had 36 years to marinate? As the saying goes, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Many of the elements that make Sense such a delight – the boundless joy and energy of everyone onstage, the production value, the musicality – are on display here, and it feels like Byrne hasn’t missed a step in the intervening years. And yet, it’s the moments between the music that sets American Utopia apart from its predecessor. Sense was simply a documentation of a band’s place in time, while Utopia has more on its mind, as Byrne tries to make sense of his place in the world. Sure, Talking Heads had larger ideas on display and made some grand statements with their lyrics, but Sense never aspired to be more than a concert documentary.

Rashida Jones turns in a great performance, but I kept wondering how exactly her character had grown by the end of the film. What does Laura learn about herself by going through these adventures? What does she learn about her father that she didn’t already know? The conclusion wraps up nicely, and it’s played effectively by both Jones and Wayans, but I found myself wondering where the couple goes from there.

All too often today, we’re more willing to click a button and share a headline or a meme of something we already agree or disagree with in order to affirm our own stance, rather than doing the hard work of understanding the heart of the matter. Sharing memes or news stories that spread the outrage of Cuties without actually knowing the content of the film in question is akin to buying a Ford Pinto because your neighbor just bought one.

It’s not often that a film can be simultaneously considered a documentary, a drama, and a comedy, but director Kirsten Johnson somehow manages to achieve that feat with Dick Johnson Is Dead. Movies can be used as a director’s way to put their own personal ideas and experiences out into the world: Truffaut channeled his early adolescence in The 400 Blows; Fellini expressed his struggles with the creative process with 8 ½; and Spike Lee used his experiences with racial injustice for Do the Right Thing. Johnson’s latest is not only a loving tribute to her father, but an examination of the grieving process, even when the aggrieved is still alive.

All too often today, we’re more willing to click a button and share a headline or a meme of something we already agree or disagree with in order to affirm our own stance, rather than doing the hard work of understanding the heart of the matter. Sharing memes or news stories that spread the outrage of Cuties without actually knowing the content of the film in question is akin to buying a Ford Pinto because your neighbor just bought one.

Tenet feels like the kind of movie Christopher Nolan has been building towards from the beginning of his career – at least on a surface level. It’s easy to spot some of the elements he’s pulling from, elements that have helped to define his aesthetic as a filmmaker: you of course have the incredible mind-bending visuals like in Inception and Interstellar, the action sequences from the Batman trilogy, the third act reveal from The Prestige, the perplexing chronology of events like in Memento and Dunkirk, and the complicated romantic entanglements of The Dark Knight, to name a few. Typically when a filmmaker cribs the best of himself to be put into one film, the result is an unbridled success, but Tenet just can’t make all of its puzzle pieces into an enlightening picture.

Yes, God, Yes is not an outright teen sex comedy; it’s much more nuanced because its ultimate goal is more than just seeing its protagonist get laid. At a lean 78 minutes, the film just wants Alice to gain a better understanding of herself and her sexuality. Funny but critical, biting but not mean-spirited, Yes, God, Yes is a promising work for all involved.

Greyhound bears a striking similarity to last year’s 1917, in that there’s a clear endpoint objective at stake, and the characters we spend the most time with are frustratingly opaque. But whereas 1917 took time to reflect and add at least a little characterization between its video game-like checkpoints, Greyhound only stops and pauses for a scant few moments.

Da 5 Bloods is clearly a project that only Spike Lee could tell, and the way he tells it makes it one of the highlights of the year so far.

There are no talking heads, no title cards (save for the occasional running clock to show the passing of the day), and no opening crawl giving the history of the bar or who these people are. Some stay throughout the entirety of the film, some try to stay and end up drinking too much, and some we only meet halfway through, but each one the Ross brothers feature makes a memorable impression.

It’s a tale as old as time: man buys a secondhand deerskin jacket. Man falls in love with said jacket and begins talking to it as if it’s a real person. Man begins converting his entire wardrobe to 100% deerskin. Man’s jacket tells him that it’s so great that it wants to be the only jacket left in the entire world.

As with most animated franchises aimed at a younger audience, the sequel is generally used as an opportunity for world building, and director Walt Dohrn literally makes it his primary objective from the opening minutes.