NOW AVAILABLE IN THEATERS, ON HOME VIDEO AND/OR STREAMING CHANNELS:

BECOMING LED ZEPPELIN--This long-awaited documentary takes a deep-dive into the origins of one of the most seminal rock bands. Unlike some music docs that rely on a mix of archival footage and external commentary, it features new interviews with surviving members Jimmy Page, Robert Plant and John Paul Jones. This helps give the film an intimate and authoritative feel, offering insight straight from the legends themselves. Chronicling Led Zeppelin’s rise from their early influences and formation to worldwide stardom, director Bernard MacMahon utilizes rare footage and previously unseen performances to explore the personal and professional journeys of each member. The detailed look at their pre-Zeppelin careers, particularly Page’s prolific session work and Plant’s blues inspirations, helps paint a richer picture of their evolution. The absence of a broader critical perspective, however, means that it often feels more like hagiography than a comprehensive biography. Additionally, the two-hour-plus run time and occasionally sluggish pacing might test the patience of casual viewers. (B MINUS.) 

THE BRUTALIST--Visionary director Brady ("Vox Lux") Corbet's intimate epic comes equipped with a 15-minute intermission which is a good thing since it has a luxurious 200-minute run time. It's precisely the type of film  nobody dares make anymore:  a glorious throwback (albeit a hard "R"-rated one) to the roadshow presentations that practically defined Hollywood in the 1960's. Beginning at the end of WW II and spanning several decades, the lead character, (Adrien Brody's Laszlo Toth), is a Jewish-Hungarian architect and Holocaust survivor who arrives in Philadelphia where a cousin (Alessandro Nivola) promises to set him up. It takes awhile for Laszlo to find his footing which he ultimately does in the form a wealthy patron, Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), after being hired by the industrialist's adult children (Joe Alwyn and Stacy Martin) to redesign their dad's study. Soon Laszlo is working on Van Buren's dream project, a utopian community where residents can "gather, reflect and learn." Complications ensue when Laszlo's crippled wife (a compelling Felicity Jones) and niece (Raffey Cassidy) are finally allowed to enter the country, moving in with him at Van Buren's sprawling estate. Corbet's bold, muscular vision is immediately signaled in the opening scene with an upside-down shot of the Statue of Liberty that serves as a poetic harbinger of Laszlo's journey. The story of one Eastern European immigrant's path--from the old world to the new, from fascism to echt capitalism--brilliantly encapsulates 20th century American life in a single movie. Shot in VistaVision, Corbet's masterpiece demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible. (A.)

CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD--Because Chris Evans retired from the role after 2019's "Avengers: Endgame," Anthony Mackie--who played "Falcon" in a half dozen Marvel movies as well as the Disney+ miniseries, "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier"--has now been promoted to the titular superhero role. Mackie's Cap isn't Evans' Steve Rogers, but Sam Wilson, the same character he played in his previous Marvel outings. If all that sounds confusing, wait until you see the movie. And Evans-to-Mackie isn't the only actor swap here:  Harrison Ford (the sole bright spot here) replaces the late William Hurt as U.S. President Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross. Besides skin color (Mackie is African-American; racist-in-chief Trump would probably call his casting a D.E.I. hire), the major difference between Steve and Sam is that the new Captain America isn't gifted with serum-enhanced invincibility; instead he's forced to rely on his street smarts, combat skills and advanced technology. While this would seem to indicate a more grounded, human-scaled superhero adventure, it really isn't. The script, which seems A.I.-generated, builds to the same hackneyed "Saving the Universe From a Megalomaniacal Villain" climax as pretty much every Marvel Corp. film product to date. For undemanding comic book enthusiasts only. 

(C MINUS.)

A COMPLETE UNKNOWN--Historical accuracy is less important in biopics than how well the film captures emotional and psychological truths about the real-life protagonist, and how accurately it captures the period setting. Judged on those terms, James ("Walk the Line," "Ford v Ferrari") Mangold's Bob Dylan movie is an unqualified triumph. Tracking Dylan's career trajectory from the 19-year-old Minnesota native hitchhiking to New York City in 1961 to the 1965 Newport Folk Festival where he scandalized purists by going electric, Mangold and co-writer Jay ("Gangs of New York," "The Age of Innocence") Cocks' screenplay keep the action briskly streamlined and unstintingly authentic. As the young Bob, Timothee Chalamet gives the sort of transformative performance--he brilliantly, and seemingly effortlessly, captures the Dylan ethos, and even does his own singing--that deserves to become legendary. But the entire cast is pretty much flawless:  Edward Norton (as saintly folk icon Pete Seeger), Elle Fanning (playing a thinly veiled version of Dylan's creative and political muse Suze Rotolo), Monica Barbaro (positively incendiary as Joan Baez), Scoot McNairy (an ailing Woody Guthrie), Dan Fogler (longtime Dylan manager Albert Grossman), Boyd Holbrook (Dylan penpal Johnny Cash) and Norbert Leo Butz (ethnomusicologist and Newport Festival major domo Alan Lomax who took great personal offense at Dylan veering off the folkie course by wading into rock and roll waters). It makes the perfect companion piece to Martin Scorsese's transcendent four-hour 2005 Dylan documentary, "No Direction Home," which covered the exact same frame in Dylan's biography. (A.) 

DOG MAN-- When Officer Knight and his faithful police dog Greg are injured in the line of duty, a crackpot surgeon fuses their bodies together and creates the titular super-hero with the head of a pooch and body of a man. Desperate to impress his Chief (Lil Rel Howery), Dog Man makes it his mission to take down feline supervillain Petey the Cat (Pete Davidson). But after a common foe (Ricky Gervais' Flippy) kidnaps Petey's clone Lil Petey (adorably voiced by Lucas Hopkins Calderon), the former arch nemeses team up to rescue the kitty and save the day. Adapted from Dav Pilkey's best-selling graphic novels--which began life as a spin-off of Pilkey's "Captain Underpants" series--director Peter Hastings' CGI DreamWorks Animation 'toon is crammed with occasionally laugh-out-loud visual gags and cannily fuses humor with heart. (B). 

HEART EYES--Seattle advertising executive Ally (Olivia Holt) strikes a genuine connection with Jay (Mason Gooding), the freelance ad man brought in to help kickstart her faltering new campaign. Unbeknownst to them, the notorious "Heart Eyes Killer" is terrorizing the city, targeting romantic couples on Valentine's Day. After finding themselves inadvertently in the psycho's crosshairs, they spend an eventful V-D night falling in love and, uh, trying to stay alive. Director Josh Ruben's crafty blend of rom-com and slasher flick skillfully balances its competing genres with enviable flair, and the witty screenplay--co-written by the estimable Christopher Landon of "Freaky" and "Happy Death Day" fame--serves up genuine scares and heart-tugging emotion. Solidly anchoring the film is Holt and Gooding's palpable chemistry which makes their characters' evolving relationship both credible and engaging. (B.) 

I'M STILL HERE--A heart-breaking portrayal of resilience during Brazil's military dictatorship, this triple 2025 Oscar nominee (Best Picture, Best International Feature and Best Actress) stars Golden Globe winner Fernando Torres as Eunice Paiva whose husband is forcibly "disappeared" by the regime. Torres delivers a bravura performance, capturing Eunice's gradual transformation from grieving wife to ferocious human rights advocate. Delving into the personal and political turmoil faced by the Paiva family, the film highlights themes of loss, courage and the relentless pursuit of justice. Director Walter ("Central Station," "The Motorcycle Diaries") Salles brings first-hand authenticity to the material, drawing from his personal connections with the Paiva family. His direction, combined with Murilo Hauser and Heitor Lorega's screenplay, offers a nuanced depiction of a family's struggle against oppression. Beyond its cinematic achievements, "I'm Still Here" resonates globally by drawing stark parallels between historical events and contemporary issues of democracy and human rights. It serves as a powerful reminder of the personal costs of political repression, and the enduring strength of those who fight against it. (A.)

KING LEAR--Jean-Luc Godard’s avant-garde 1987 reimagining of Shakespeare’s play practically defies categorization, challenging audiences with its fragmented, surrealist approach to narrative and meaning. Far removed from any straightforward adaptation, this is a dense, self-referential exploration of art, language and the creative process. Situated in a post-apocalyptic world where art and literature have been nearly obliterated, the central task is the reconstruction of those lost cultural artifacts. William Shakespeare Jr. the Fifth (experimental theater wunderkind Peter Sellars) is a descendant of the legendary playwright, tasked with rediscovering and reassembling his ancestor’s work. What ensues is not so much a retelling of "King Lear" as a meditation on the fractured nature of modern storytelling. Godard uses "Lear" as a springboard for thematic and formal experimentation blending disjointed visuals, cryptic dialogue and philosophical musings into a piece that feels more like a conceptual collage than a film. The result is a disorienting but provocative work that rewards patience and intellectual engagement while alienating anyone seeking "coherence." Godard’s use of sound and image is especially striking, incorporating abrupt cuts, overlaid voices and jarring music to disrupt traditional cinematic rhythms. This subversion forces us to focus on the film as a constructed medium, drawing attention to its artifice. The cinematography, meanwhile, alternates between stark, naturalistic beauty and abstract imagery, creating a tension that mirrors its inner chaos. The cast, including teen queen Molly Ringwald, Woody Allen and Godard himself, deliver performances that oscillate between deadpan and exaggerated, further emphasizing the experimental ethos. In a glorified cameo, Norman Mailer plays himself, underscoring the metafictional elements of the project. Godard seems less interested in "King Lear" as a dramatic tragedy and more as a symbol of the fragile state of culture and communication. A deeply divisive film even among Godard aficionados, it’s a challenging work that eschews emotional resonance for intellectual abstraction. As an exploration of the limits of cinema--and its daring vision of art's role in an increasingly fractured world--this stands as one of Godard’s boldest deconstructions of the narrative form. The Criterion Collection's Blu-Ray includes an audio recording of Godard's "Lear" press conference at the 1987 Cannes Film Festival; new interviews with Sellars, Ringwald and New Yorker critic Richard Brody, author of "Everything is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard;" and Brody's insightful exegesis of the film in his essay, "After the End of the World." (A.)  

LAST SUMMER--A gripping drama that explores desire, power and moral ambiguity with director Catherine ("Romance," "Anatomy of Hell") Breillat's signature unflinching gaze. A remake of May el-Toukhy’s "Queen of Hearts" (2019), Breillat’s version infuses the narrative with her distinct psychological depth, examining female agency and transgression through an unsettling yet intimate lens. The story follows Anne (Léa Drucker), a successful lawyer in her 50s, who embarks on a quasi-incestuous affair with her teenage stepson, Théo (Samuel Kircher). Breillat refuses to sensationalize or moralize; instead, she crafts a nuanced portrait of a woman caught between passion, guilt and self-destruction. Drucker delivers a mesmerizing performance, capturing Anne’s contradictions with subtlety and restraint. In a striking screen debut, Kircher exudes both vulnerability and defiance, making their dynamic all the more unsettling. Cinematographer Jeanne Lapoirie frames their interactions with a chilly elegance, reinforcing the film’s controlled yet tense atmosphere. Unlike many of Breillat’s past works, it's a tad less explicit in its provocations, but remains deeply unsettling nonetheless. Breillat interrogates themes of consent, power dynamics and the repercussions of desire, leaving viewers in a state of discomfort long after the end credits roll. While not reaching the visceral extremes of previous Breillat works like "Fat Girl" (2001), it stands as a mature, complex exploration of sexuality and ethical decay. This daring and intelligent film reaffirms Breillat’s place as a director unafraid to navigate the darkest corners of the human heart. The Janus Contemporaries' Blu-Ray includes an interview with Breillat and the 2024 theatrical trailer. (A.)

THE MONKEY--As children, twin brothers Hal and Bill Shelburn (both played by Christian Convery) discover a sinister wind-up monkey toy that seemingly causes death whenever it plays its cymbals. Years after attempting to rid themselves of the cursed object, the brothers (Theo James does double duty as the adult versions of Hal and Bill) are forced to confront their traumatic past when the monkey reemerges, bringing with it a new wave of gruesome fatalities. Director Osgood Perkins' adaptation of Stephen King's 1980 short story seamlessly blends visceral horror and savage dark comedy to deliver a uniquely unsettling creep-fest. Perkins, known for atmospheric and slow-burning horror flicks like last summer's box-office smash "Longlegs," embraces a more frenetic, gore-laden style this time with a Grand Guignol aesthetic and creatively engineered, blood-soaked setpieces as queasily funny as they are terrifying. James delivers two compelling performances as the twins descend into paranoia and fear, and Tatiana ("Orphan Black") Maslany steals her share of scenes as their mother, adding much-needed emotional weight to the gruesome proceedings. Major props to cinematographer Nico Aguilar for stylishly capturing the macabre proceedings with elegance and grotesque visual flair. 

(B PLUS.)   

THE MOTHER AND THE WHORE--Despite winning two major awards--the Grand Jury and FIPRESCI (International Federation of Film Critics) prizes--at the 1973 Cannes Film Festival, Jean Eustache's protean masterpiece struggled to find U.S. distribution. Even a warm reception from audiences at the New York Film Festival where it had its North American premiere that fall didn't entice any buyers. Of course, a notoriously clueless New York Times review by stringer Nora Sayre didn't help its commercial prospects. The situation was so dire that the Times actually published an article by James Monaco in December '73 in which he chided the majority of New York critics whose condescending or contemptuous (e.g., Sayre's) reviews seemingly frightened away  prospective distributers. In closing he added despairingly, "I hope you get a chance to see it." Dan Talbot's New Yorker Films ultimately took Monaco's bait and gave "The Mother and the Whore" an early spring release the following year at one of Manhattan's premier arthouses, the Little Carnegie on 57th Street. But the combination of mixed reviews and a three-hour thirty-eight minute run time doomed it commercially. Like so many films that wouldn't achieve "Classic" status until years later (Michael Cimino's "Heaven's Gate" and Elaine May's "Mikey and Nicky" among them), "TM&TW" slipped through a distribution rights limbo and was nearly impossible to see for decades. (I didn't see it until someone thoughtfully posted a copy of New Yorker's original VHS print a few years ago.). Accordingly, the Criterion Collection's release of a new 4K digital restoration of Eustache's cause celebre ranks as the first major film event of 2025. The ultimate statement about disillusioned-by-the-late-'60s young adults who found the Sexual Revolution as abortive as their political forays, it strikes at the gut of personal relationships a la Bernardo Bertolucci's "Last Tango in Paris" while also probing the nub of intellectual rapport previously celebrated in Eric Rohmer talkathons like "My Night at Maud's" with Proust rather than Pascal being the guiding literary muse. There's stark beauty in Eustache's b&w mise-en-scene, the verite-influenced pacing, the unvarnished close-ups and the authenticity of its lived-in locations. The three leads--moon-calf moocher Alexandre (Truffaut and Godard muse Jean-Pierre Leaud); Marie (Bernadette Lafont), a slightly older woman who "keeps" him; and Veronika (Francoise Lebrun in her screen debut), the younger woman who pursues him--are impeccable in their revelation of self. So penetrating is Eustache's recreation of time and place that it remains one of the few films that accurately displayed the social and cultural sensibilities of the '70s. With its myriad monologues, confessions and conversations, language becomes a major character in this veritable "orgy of words." And unlike "Last Tango" which has retroactively been attacked for perceived misogyny, Eustache shows tremendous respect, understanding and love for his female characters. Marie and Veronika truly hold the balance of power in the film, and Alexandre is more puppet than puppetmaster. Eustache would go on to make a mere handful of subsequent works (only one, 1974's gentle coming-of-age movie "My Little Loves," was distributed in the U.S.) before committing suicide in 1981. Among the bonus features on Criterion's Blu Ray are a contemporary interview with Lebrun; a segment from the French TV series "Pour le cinema" with Eustache, Leaud, Lafont and Lebrun; a conversation between director Jean-Pierre Gorin and writer Rachel Kushner about the film's artistic and historical legacy; a featurette about the restoration process; an essay by Lucy Sante; and Eustache's written "introduction" to the film. (A PLUS.)                

PADDINGTON IN PERU--Everyone's favorite marmalade-loving bear is back for a third edition in the beloved screen franchise adapted from Michael Bond's kit-lit perennials. Conspicuously absent this time is Paul King who, after helming the two previous Paddington outings, graduated to 2023's equally wonderful "Wonka." If first-time director Dougal Wilson can't duplicate King's visual imagination and antic sense of humor, it's a fast-paced, unerringly sweet adventure sure to please fans. After receiving a letter from passive-aggressive Reverend Mother (Oscar winner Olivia Colman) about his beloved Aunt Lucy's deteriorating health, Paddington (enchantingly voiced once again by Ben Whishaw) recruits the Brown family (Hugh Bonneville reprises his pater familias role while Emily Mortimer subs for the MIA Sally Hawkins) to join him on a trip to Peru. Upon discovering that Lucy (Imelda Staunton) has gone missing in the Amazonian rain forest, Paddington recruits a sketchy riverboat captain (Antonio Banderas) to help find her. Yes, the quest narrative feels a tad boilerplate, lacking the depth and emotional resonance that gave the earlier films their je nais se quois. But it's still the kind of all-ages-friendly "feel-good" movie we all could use during this endlessly bleak, seemingly endless Arctic winter. (B.)  

THE UNBREAKABLE BOY--Director Jon ("Ordinary Angels") Gunn's heart-tugging examination of family, faith and the unyielding human spirit stars Jacob Laval in the title role of Austin LeRette, a young boy diagnosed with both autism and osteogenesis imperfecta (aka brittle bone disease). Laval radiates his character's infectious joy and optimism while, as Austin's parents, Zachary Levi and Meghann Fahy capture the fears and uncertainties of raising a child with special needs. A story of resilience and unconditional love, it emphasizes the transformative power of embracing differences by highlighting how Austin's unwavering spirit becomes an unexpected source of strength for his family. Deftly balancing humor with heartache, the film remains consistently engaging without lapsing into maudlin sentimentality. By serving as a reminder of the beauty found in embracing life's imperfections--and the strength derived from love and acceptance--this ranks as one of the better Kingdom Story productions to date. (B MINUS.)

 ---Milan Paurich