This is the kind of film that encourages youngsters to break out and see if they can discover their talent – and see where that might lead.

The chief message of the film is that true love is something that should not be allowed to wither and die, and needs attention to keep it vibrantly alive.

It has some savvy things to say about social media, assimilation and a specifically American condition: the peculiar mix of embarrassment and pride (and guilt) one can harbor about one's ethnic origins.

[Spinster evolves] from an example of cinematic misanthropy into something alternately sweet, triumphant, and just a little melancholic.

The Ashman story itself is the stuff of a Broadway musical. It just needed some music -- what's here is doled out in penurious and unsatisfying morsels.

It's a collision of talents, technique and even philosophy: The much-honored Mr. Rylance can be an antidote to actorly artifice; Mr. Depp is a delivery system for eccentricity.

It sentimentally explores (though effectively so) the surface level of the conflict that has festered over time.

What Mr. Moland is after, in tackling an "unfilmable" novel, is evidenced in the visual tone, emotional content and Mr. Skarsgård's mutely eloquent performance.

Audiences who don’t like to be moralised at have found the film too earnest.

Is he merely an ethically weak man entrapped into becoming a genuinely evil one?

This film is unique among sports dramas.

While it tackles the heavy topic of teen suicide, it is ultimately a call to transformation.

The Grizzlies could have been another white-savior film. It’s not.