Alex Harrison

Cameron has said in interviews that sharing directorial credit was his idea, and he repeatedly shows us why. In one pre-show scene, the two of them map out where to place the cameras to best capture a particular part of the performance; in another, Eilish explains to camera what she's after with the show's song-specific color scheme. This concert is a work of art, and Eilish is its director – with this film, Cameron is less striving to create his own art than to capture Eilish's.

It's a journey as much defined by tedium as tension, but to paraphrase the assassin, if you can't handle a little boredom, this might not be the film for you.

If entertainment is all you're looking for, you'll find it, and you'll even have the fun of debating the accents and VFX as you leave the theater. But there's also a lot more to find beneath its surface pleasures, making it a worthy Christmas capstone for what has been a very good year for adults at the movies.

That exquisite balance of art and entertainment is exactly what makes each Bong Joon-ho film a gift to be savored – here's hoping his next one doesn't take quite so long to reach us.

What I connected to wins out over what I didn't – I have enjoyed sitting with its ideas, and there are a couple flourishes that will stick with me.

It's as rewarding as it is challenging.

Corrigan approaches his film's many user interfaces with a show-don't-tell philosophy. Every click, every keystroke, is treated like an opportunity to reveal personality. It not only keeps the screenlife conceit interesting, but makes it feel vital.

Sam somewhat shrinks into the periphery of the story to make way for Amanda Peet's Dianne, whose tonal world is welcome, but certainly different. Rather than hold things together, Shear the filmmaker seems to step back, too. The result is a film that only exists in moments: sometimes funny, sometimes interesting, always lacking the cohesion necessary to add up to anything.

Late Night with the Devil is tremendously fun.

Problemista invokes the simplicity of myth without ever letting its characters become simplistic.

The Spanish director's fingerprint is there, undoubtedly. But the movie feels strangely incomplete, as if made with one hand tied behind his back.

Companion wants to surprise you, but has no real interest in trying to outsmart you.

Gradually, everything becomes burdened with story. The more the triangle of Kathy, Benny, and Johnny is played up for drama, the less interesting it becomes.

If Infested suffers from anything, it's that Vaniček makes its characters and themes too real, and the monsters can't keep up.

Equal parts creepy, funny, and impressive, Wendell & Wild (despite being inexplicably rated PG-13) is an ideal watch for the whole family this Halloween.

It's almost like Cumming has made two films, one through aesthetics and atmosphere and one through story and theme, that ultimately can't coexist. Neither is a bad film, but the former makes a much greater impression, and I wish it had been seen through to the end.

Layne's performance is a real strength, and she does a great job of not only anchoring us in her character's emotions, but embodying how she feels about singing in any given scene.

Robinson's film is not without things to say, and the combination of a dialed-up Mendes and a dialed-in Hawke make receiving that message a fun, engrossing experience. It is, in other words, exactly what it set out to be, and with any luck, it'll be named alongside the titles it so admires on many a teen movie listicle to come.

The actors inhabit these characters well, but they don't have the benefit of juxtaposition with normality to really put their work in context.

Abandoned has a few things in its favor, but the disappointing conclusion obscures them while making the movie's flaws even more prominent, which ultimately makes it difficult to recommend.

Roberts' film succeeds where much contemporary coverage failed because of how invested it is in the difference between laughing with him, as the audience is taught to do, and laughing at him.

The material is not lacking in thematic depth, but how the filmmakers choose to express these themes makes for an inconsistently engaging experience. Dreamin' Wild is sometimes too caught up in its own artfulness, and all that weighted form ends up trapping its ideas rather than giving them heft.

There's plenty to admire in Maria, and in Jolie's performance, but my connection to certain scenes shouldn't be mistaken for my being emotionally engrossed. In fact, I typically felt kept at a distance.

It's possible to watch this movie thinking mostly of what could have been – if the script was as deft as it sometimes pretends to be, this had the makings of a truly great thriller. But The Rip is a good time when experienced on its wavelength, and worthy material for a relaxed night in.

Beetlejuice and Delia are deployed just the right amount, each injecting the movie with their own flavor of chaos whenever things risk feeling stale.

As a story of parental reckoning, Goodrich lacks the interrogative instinct of something like Sofia Coppola's On the Rocks, and it rushes Grace's catharsis as a result. But as a story of a man's late-stage awakening, it strikes a more resonant chord.

Though it risks a slip into fully formulaic territory at times, the new movie is building to a far more interesting endgame than it appears to be, in which all the fleshing out of Cenobite lore and mechanics actually amounts to something quite profound.

The film may not always conquer its genre's tendency toward oversimplification, but what complexity makes it to the screen is enough to come away from it with something to chew on.