Alex Saveliev

It strives as hard for authenticity as its protagonist does to remain relevant; the strain shows.

There’s something missing in this concoction: self-aware humor, a courage of its convictions, a driving force that propels the plot forward . . . Perhaps it was all just too steep a hill to climb.

This is pure cinematic meditation, requiring a surrender to its languid tempo and hallucinatory vibes.

Less discerning kids may enjoy Robin and the Hoods… when they’re not deep into their PlayStations and Switches.

Barron was the only light in my life,” a character yells at one point. “What am I now – just another dog in your army?” Barron’s Cove could have been a light in the current cinematic landscape, but instead, it’s just another dog in an army of duplicates.

Salvable fully embraces its bleakness, its title almost mocking; there’s no salvation here. If it had a bit more originality or verve, it could potentially have pulled it off.

Shabbily structured, with barely any tension, characterization, scares, or thematic depth, Consecration, due to its utter lack of inspiration, loses the audience’s concentration within minutes, and may even lead to constipation (okay, maybe not the last part, but you get my drift).

It’s all very granola and sentimental, a path well-trodden.

At 90 minutes or so, with the needless pseudo-artistic embellishments and tautology tossed out, Armand would have been an intense and cerebral little psychological nail-biter.

Too much thought has been put into this one to write it off as a mere, well, write-off. But it’s also too slap-dash to be labeled a classic, nowhere near on par with Peter Jackson’s original trilogy. A curiosity then, worth checking out, especially for the devoted.

Sometimes, the seemingly smallest fracture that separates the sublime from the maudlin is actually, well, a great divide.

While The Shade does a decent job examining grief and the complexities of a brotherly bond, it never digs too deeply, relying heavily on its central actor to reveal more depth than it contains.

The Sylvester Stallone-produced film categorically lacks any surprises and frequently devolves into mushy melodrama. Still, as a family-friendly story of survival in the wilderness, it gets the job done… just.

As it stands, it should keep survival fans satiated, mystery fans somewhat aggravated, and those expecting dry stuff, well, utterly baffled.

It’s stale, a relic from another time that’s strenuously updated and forced into 2024.

This ballad falls right into the singular category of “so bad, it’s good,” a low-budget, highfalutin, bold, wildly overacted, and at times oddly lyrical gem that ought not to be overlooked.

A Gen-Z Bonnie and Clyde, Marmalade takes big, admirable swings, and while it misses some, it avoids the cardinal sin of being boring.

The Universal Theory works in fits and starts but is bound to leave the audience not entirely convinced by its logic.

While it’s solidly produced from a technical standpoint, and the lead does her best to sell the most outrageous scenarios, the end result feels undercooked.

The fact that it purports to function as a not-so-thinly-veiled parable about the limitlessness of sexuality, gender fluidity, and the marginalized makes it that much more unbearable.

Those individual, deeply felt, beautiful moments sadly fail to add up to a deeply felt, beautiful whole. As such, Revoir Paris gets a B- for effort.

Part of the reason Condor’s Nest works as well as it does is that none of it feels forced or showy. Blattenberger truly set out to make a kick-ass WWII flick, albeit with his tongue planted firmly in cheek.

Exploring universal themes of seeking familial connection and kindness, Adopting Audrey verges dangerously close to becoming as aimless as its heroine. But because of Malone’s sublime performance, it manages to stay on course. Maybe in the future Cahill could benefit from adopting a different approach.

Andrew Commis and Rick Rifici’s jaw-dropping camerawork is worth the ticket price by itself: Abby’s fingers brushing against the grouper, whales scaling the surface of a deep-blue ocean, the skeleton of a blue whale resting among rocks. These visuals make the abundant preaching throughout Blueback palatable but make you long for a tighter focus and a subtler approach.

Prepare for a threadbare, hole-ridden plot with cardboard characters, whose ludicrous dialogue is matched by the stupidest twists in recent memory. After a feature like this, the only thing that’s on the line is Gibson’s career.

Bolstered by Mark Bradshaw and Marcus Whale’s electronic drone soundtrack and Bonnie Elliott’s atmospheric cinematography, Run Rabbit Run could’ve used some more forward momentum. It lacks outright scares and novelty but makes up for it in some psychological depth. Reid’s film may not reach the profundity it strives for, but how many horror titles even strive for anything these days?

The writer and the director rub our faces in muck until all we see is darkness, providing the faintest ray of light at the end. You will be infuriated – not so much at the witnessed injustices as at the filmmaking team for subjecting you to over two hours of grief and misery.

Polley attempts to tackle the issue from multiple angles – how male toxicity is passed down to helpless youth by their elders, for example – but ends up running in circles.