Bill Goodykoontz

More curiosity than movie, “Michael,” a biopic so reverential towards its subject, Michael Jackson, that it borders on worshipful, can’t seem to figure out what it is.

When it comes to dumb fun, generally speaking you want a pretty good balance between the two elements. “Normal” ignores this notion, gleefully so.

I admire what Gyllenhaal attempts in The Bride! I was less satisfied with the execution.

In the end, How to Make a Killing is fine, fun, a nice diversion starring, if no longer the flavor of the month, then a good actor elevating the material around him.

Avatar: Fire and Ash will doubtless join its predecessors in the billion-dollar club. It can't miss. It follows the formula of the previous two films — stunning advancements in film technology coupled with mind-numbing plot, evidently a lucrative combo. Don't get me wrong, these movies look great, genuinely so. They're just so dumb.

It’s such a fine line between stupid and clever, a couple of not-so-wise men said a long time ago — and in a better movie.

It’s a jumbled, intriguing, inconsistent mess — and yes, it is uncomfortable by design.

I like movies like “Rosario” — creepy little horror films with enough scares to keep you on edge and enough of a story to keep you invested.

Maybe the Manson murders are not meant for easy explanation, which in part seems to be what Morris is getting at. Maybe we’ll never really know the answers. But we don’t seem to be able to stop looking for them.

The movie has its moments (some of the songs are fun, as always), but like Plankton’s efforts at taking over the world, it’s ultimately a disappointment.

There is a hazy, gauzy quality to all of this, which keeps things just out of reach. Certainly, it looks like a lot of fun to be young, beautiful and rich in Naples. But Parthenope is also out of reach, almost an idea as much as a character. What that idea is I’m not quite certain.

You just have to hope for some fun along the way. The movie delivers that every now and then, but not nearly enough. Bigger! Dumber! Something! I’d settle for just better.

It’s surprising how much you miss the star power of the original Avengers bunch. Or maybe it’s not surprising. Whatever the case, watching this movie too often feels like you suspect there’s a better party going on next door, but you can’t get in.

It’s good, it’s intriguing, but in the end it’s nothing to howl about.

We’ve seen it all before — maybe not quite as spectacular, maybe not quite as dumb. It’s Washington who ultimately makes “Gladiator II” stand apart from the first film and makes it a lot more fun than it has any right to be.

Juror #2 isn’t quite forgettable, but it’s also not the movie we’ll remember Eastwood for.

The Apprentice — its title a play on Trump’s original identity in relation to Cohn, as well as the reality show that helped get him elected president — is well-made, entertaining in its way (particularly for fans of good acting) and not at all surprising.

By the time the main vampire shows up, Salem’s Lot has already been rendered toothless.

This is grasping at something, or really at everything, everywhere, all the time. It feels like a bunch of unfinished ideas, despite the lengthy gestation period.

It’s a serviceable movie, nothing more but — also important — nothing less. And did we mention it has George Clooney and Brad Pitt?

Ultimately, the movie is really boring. Any charm or spark it might have had is quashed by a lack of strong direction and writing.

There’s something about a lot of the film as a whole that makes it feel as if Lanthimos is trying a little too hard.

More brains and less brawn probably isn’t a prescription for box-office success for a movie like this. But it’s a movie I’d rather see.

Not at the top of the list, necessarily, but writer and director Kiah Roache-Turner’s film is a solid if unspectacular entry into the eww-gross-spiders category. It’s pretty good on that front. But when it tries to wedge in some version of Meaningful Family Drama, it loses its way a little bit.

No one is going to mistake “Road House” for a masterpiece, but it succeeds far better at being what the original film set out to be.

Immaculate goes all in on the yuck, but leaves the rest high and dry.

Red Right Hand wants to be a kudzu-covered, Southern-fried crime story, a morality tale set in the “hills” as rich as pig knuckles from a jar in a juke joint. Mostly it’s just a dopey mob movie with Southern accents of varying quality — predictable and cliched.

We’re left with some fun, funny and occasionally scary set pieces, but the slices don’t add up to a whole pizza, as it were.