Bill Goodykoontz

BlacKkKlansman is Spike Lee’s best movie in years, bringing together everything that makes him such a dynamic, exciting, urgent filmmaker – as well as some of what can drive you crazy about him, too.

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

Yes, Glazer asks a lot of his audience. At times the movie feels like something you've walked in to the middle of, so you're thrown off balance. Yet it's hypnotic — you want to stick around to see what happens, and maybe just to figure out what the hell is going on.

Polsky keeps things lively, both visually and with his editing. But the sometimes-lighthearted approach never undermines the serious business at hand. It enhances it.

This is a story about taking risks, about putting the good of the country before your own. It sounds corny and clichéd, but even in Spielberg’s hands it doesn’t come off that way.

Like a greatest-hits album, it's not as deeply satisfying as an artist's best work (try Yen's "Ip Man"). But it will keep you entertained.

Some of the behavior of Uriel and Eliezer will make you squirm. But Ashkenazi and Bar-Aba are so compelling in their performances of difficult men that you'll gladly suffer.

There are some genuine scares, some gross-out moments and some heartfelt scenes between Julia and Lucas. The atmosphere is so thick you can touch it. This is a good movie and an interesting concept. But it’s not any fun at all.

Movies about movies don’t always work. Even in this case, the films Scorsese discusses are superior to the one we’re watching. (Most of them, anyway.) But “Made in England” is so good in its own right, as a gateway to so many remarkable films, that it’s a great starting point for the uninitiated and a great reminder for everyone else.

It’s dark, nihilistic, funny and ultimately sweet and hopeful, and thus so inadvertently perfect for people stuck at home practicing pandemic avoidance that you kind of have to love it a little.

It's terrific. It's about many things, but dread infuses them all. You won't be grossed out. You'll be creeped out. And that's a lot more satisfying.

Birbiglia, whose previous feature was the well-received “Sleepwalk with Me,” has made a tiny gem, a delightful film as surprising as it is satisfying.

It is exceptional acting, and Locke is a tremendous piece of filmmaking.

Once you’ve seen the work Stallone and Jordan do in Creed, the idea of a “Rocky 8” doesn’t sound so bad.

The catharsis found here is far quieter, and much more effective, whether it be the pain expressed in a student's essay or the honesty found in a simple gesture, one that ends the film in beautifully moving fashion.

It’s a lot of fun. Unfortunately, in her slavish devotion to creating the world of schlocky, B-grade sex-infused horror films, she recreates the good and the bad, the latter including some boring stretches that could’ve been lost in the two-hour running time. But it’s all quite enjoyable and a knowing take on patriarchy besides.

Muylaert goes for answers and, at times, they may come a little easily for all of the turmoil that leads to them.... But Casé’s performance overwhelms any such quibbles. She is a delight, and thanks in large part to her performance, so is The Second Mother.

Powell and Arjona have electric chemistry. It’s a joy to watch their back-and-forth — not quite the banter of classic screwball comedies, but close.

127 Hours is based on Ralston's memoir, and it's a really good movie because director Danny Boyle is a genius.

Chomet's defiantly two-dimensional artwork is warm, inviting, beautiful, establishing immediately a comfort level, at least for audiences of, ahem, a certain age.

The only flaw here is the score. It's beautiful but so obtrusive, particularly at the start, that it threatens to turn the proceedings into melodrama.

Flawed but impressive, War for the Planet of the Apes finds its place comfortably, and near the top, of a surprisingly satisfying summer season. It’s a smart take on the old films, making this a series that can stand alone in its own right.

Impressionistic, unconventional and often downright weird, it’s most of all an exploration of humanity — what that means and how it is achieved.

Lanthimos makes statements about the nature of love and relationships and their place in society, and there are fewer statements more important than those.

The movie is fun, it's smart and there's plenty of action. There are enough knowing nods to old-school fans to satisfy them, but the nods don't get in the way. In fact - and a feel for this kind of thing is what makes Abrams so good - they're perfect, nice accents that won't slow down the uninitiated.

There is not a lot more to the story other than the effort to stay quiet and, thus, stay alive. But the pregnancy, along with a couple of other squirm-inducing set pieces, is enough to keep you on edge.

There is no particularly cathartic climax to Frances Ha. Instead there is a more realistic depiction of Frances’ growth. Like Gerwig’s performance, it’s natural, it’s realistic, perfectly believable.

Movies may be artifice, but in the best-made films you never really notice that they’re faking it. They feel real, lived-in, recognizable, whether in space or on a speeding bus that can’t slow down or inside a cramped apartment. C’mon C’mon feels real.