Brian Lowry

“Rebel Moon” might look big and splashy, even on a TV screen, but in terms of working as drama, it’s less a rebel yell than a low-key rebel grunt.

Director James Wan again fills the screen with spectacle, some of it unevenly rendered, though even eye-popping digital effects couldn’t compensate for the frequent flatness of the dialogue and situations.

The story plays like a rather tired excuse to redo the first story with a few cosmetic tweaks, hoping to tap into adult nostalgia while potentially attracting a new generation of kids.

Ultimately, American Fiction raises questions about the price of Black success in a White-dominated media and entertainment culture. What it doesn’t do, while maintaining its satirical edge and eye, is provide any easy answers.

The movie’s earnestness can’t wriggle away from the pretty powerful temptation to tap out.

Edgy, unsettlingly paranoid and genuinely clever, it’s a logical continuation of the conversation writer-director Sam Esmail started with “Mr. Robot.”

Funny, sentimental, and anchored as always by Tony Shalhoub’s “defective detective,” it’s a worthy follow-up that goes beyond just being a nostalgic exercise.

Sara Bareilles headlines this adaptation for which she wrote the lilting songs, in a show that manages to be alternately sweet and silly, touching and raunchy.

Wonka only sporadically conjures cinematic magic, and most of those moments owe an oversized debt to tying directly into the earlier movie based on Roald Dahl’s story, as opposed to carving its own path for a new generation.

Thriller 40 consciously and effectively brings the focus back to the music and the thrills he delivered as a performer. As for the ability to keep the rest of his story at bay while watching it, that will likely depend on one’s level of Jackson fandom.

In the charitable spirit of the season, Candy Cane Lane serves as a passable addition to the annual parade of holiday movies trotted out each year. Yet even by that unexacting standard, there’s barely enough juice here to keep the lights on.

Watching Cooper and Mulligan portray their characters across decades, it’s hard not to be impressed, while nurturing a greater appreciation for why Cooper found Bernstein’s contributions and complications deserving of such a tribute.

Wish doesn’t quite reach the stars, but it does shine intermittently while introducing another plucky teenage female heroine, gamely voiced by Ariana DeBose.

Despite a glittering pedigree, the result is an earnest film deficient in the inspirational qualities of its subject matter.

Ultimately, Next Goal Wins derives most of its modest charm from the film’s sheer unpretentiousness, which also makes it light enough to feel fairly disposable, despite being equipped with likable characters and scenic locales.

There’s obviously some talent at work here, but not much in the way of stretching, and the initial energy and sheer dorkiness doesn’t generate enough laughs – some decidedly low-brow (like John’s fascination with videos of mating animals), others cleverer – to sustain a movie.

Splitting the movie into three chapters seems appropriate, since the film delivers a trifecta: overwrought, overacted, and overlong.

Alternately uplifting and devastating, a warm reminiscence about the Harry Potter franchise and a glimpse into child stardom, it’s finally a tribute to its namesake, who concludes that he’d “better tell my story, or it won’t be told.”

The film, while technically superb, feels like it wins several battles but doesn’t entirely qualify as a success in terms of the overall war.

The Killer has an old-fashioned feel and still manages to nail its target by bringing dashes of freshness, wit and unpredictability to this well-worn genre.

The Brooks-Reiner banter is so understated and natural as to basically feel like eavesdropping on one of their lunches, which practically yields more memories than insights.

Clocking in at a welcomely brisk 105 minutes, it’s Marvel’s shortest film, but a lighter tone that occasionally borders on a sort of cosmic “Freaky Friday” doesn’t consistently make the movie fly, much less soar.

The movie lives up to both halves of its title: The Holdovers gets a hold on you, while looming over most stories built around the simple idea that families are often defined by what you make of them, not what you inherit.

Sly possesses value as a pop-culture record, letting an influential talent tell their story to those weaned on their work. Compared to the best of that fertile genre, though, it’s more of a lightweight than a genuine contender.

Overall, though, the documentary provokes the dispiriting sense that while people with conflicting views can talk, when the gap’s this wide and the unwavering belief to disinformation this toxic, there’s almost no way to make them hear.

A fairly limp documentary.

The dramatic height difference between the leads accomplishes a great deal of work in “Priscilla,” visually conveying the power disparity between superstar Elvis Presley and Priscilla Beaulieu, who he began wooing when she was just 14. Unfortunately, writer-director Sofia Coppola’s version of this oft-told story moves at a snail’s pace, offering fine performances but little to set one’s soul – or anything else – on fire.

Like “It,” “Five Nights” wants to milk horror out of something associated with the innocence of childhood, and on that level the quirkiness of the visuals and initial moments of wit likely provide enough of what audiences want to survive, commercially speaking. Even so, the net result is another slice of horror that at best feels a little half-baked.

Burr’s fans will doubtless find plenty to like in “Old Dads,” even if the movie sandpapers down his rough edges and causes him to question his cave-man mentality.

There’s a difference between “long” and “epic,” although in movie terms the two frequently get confused. Martin Scorsese delivers the former but not the latter with Killers of the Flower Moon.

Those who fell victim to the over-the-top animosity directed at Amber Heard during the Johnny Depp trial – as chronicled in the docuseries “Depp v. Heard” – will alas have fresh ammunition thanks to “In the Fire,” a pretty awful starring vehicle for the actor that she also produced, a film unlikely to produce many sparks beyond those set off by the morbidly curious.

While “The Caine Mutiny” clearly loses something in translation, the inherent drama of the courtroom faceoff survives intact.

Expanding upon King’s creepy concept represents a reasonably solid October-timed diversion amid the latest gluttonous wave of movies and TV derived from his writing.

The nostalgia factor elevates an otherwise slow-building film that maintains an eerie creepiness before fumbling through a slightly muddled climactic act.

While the film traffics in thoughtful ideas as well as spectacle, it doesn’t complete the vital emotional connections between its head and its heart.

Again rated R after softening the rougher edges the last time, the body count is certainly off-the-charts high, but the action – under the guidance of stunt coordinator-turned-director Scott Waugh (“Need for Speed”) – is about as generic as these things get.

Dumb Money might lose a little nuance and complexity in corralling all its facets into movie form, but boiled down to what will please an audience (in theaters, or more likely later at home), the smart money says most people won’t care.

Still, as first impressions go, “Love at First Sight” works nicely on the intended level for those sent in its “You might like” direction. For Netflix’s purposes, the odds are that adds up to all the love it needs.

“A Haunting in Venice” continues a brand of breezy entertainment that suggests whatever the detective’s goals, retirement doesn’t appear to be in the cards.

The Nun II doesn’t trifle with the formula, which relies heavily on jump-out-at-you scares, vivid nightmares and spooky spectral visions.

The Equalizer 3 might not be totally convincing as a “final” anything; still, the latest outing does have the benefit of feeling like it reaches a nice point at which to close the books for now on Robert McCall, all things, you know, being equal.

Choose Love strains the storytelling to fit the gimmick, in a special that does its central character no favors by making her race through the trio of suitors suddenly in her life.

A familiar but very nicely done coming-of-age story.

Set in Berlin, the Speed-like conceit possesses a crisp and efficient stupidity before, predictably, running out of gas.

As underdog car-racing movies go, think of “Gran Turismo” as “Nerd v. Ferrari.” Solidly assembled but less stirring than it should be – in part because it takes too many laps – the film moves, ironically, too slow to deliver as a big-screen attraction but might fare better with its eventual pitstops on at-home platforms.

Those who give in to the gleeful crudeness of it all will be rewarded with some funny moments courtesy of the near-unrelenting dog’s-eye view, although fair warning, most of the best stuff is in the red-band trailer.

Blue Beetle tends to fare best in its smaller moments, which merely reinforces the concept’s limitations thanks in part to the sheer glut of similar fare driven by streaming. The cultural specificity is also an asset but feels rushed in a format that, unlike the pacing of a series, creates a greater imperative to get to the next battle.

A self-conscious effort to build a spy franchise around Gal Gadot, Heart of Stone plays like a poor woman’s “Mission: Impossible,” mostly thwarting even its star’s Wonder-ful charisma. Despite solid action moments scattered over its two hours, this Netflix movie plays like an inoffensive but lifeless addition to the “You might like” feature that, alas, you probably won’t.

The film goes from Shark Week to shark weak – from playfully amusing to just plain stupid, eliciting enough laughs in the wrong places to make an advance screening virtually interactive.

Energetic and sporadically funny, it’s a passable effort to jump-start a comic-book franchise that has enjoyed a long if uneven crawl across the screen.

Despite its satirical tone, The Beanie Bubble largely plays things pretty straight – indeed, a little too straight, when a bit more humor and whimsy would have helped – with Galifianakis portraying Warner as the kind of self-absorbed, ruthless narcissist who’ll say anything to get what he wants (or really, needs) without necessarily possessing the savvy or discipline to hold onto it.

Disney’s latest renovation of “Haunted Mansion” is certainly clever in building off the foundation of the theme-park ride, with a darker streak than the last stab 20 years ago that starred Eddie Murphy. Yet even with a solid cast yielding good moments, there’s a general flatness to it, and a sense the movie is seeking to scare up what it can in theaters before settling into its natural haunting grounds on Disney+.

Slow to start, the movie taps into a genre of “What’s behind the curtain?” paranoia that’s provocative, if a little slim on detail.

Unlike most biographical documentaries, “Stephen Curry: Underrated” benefits from having two very distinct windows in mind, both buttressing its underlying point: Curry as a barely recruited, under-sized high school prospect, before merging as a college star at Davidson; and his most recent title with the Golden State Warriors. Either would be good enough, but put together, “Underrated” shoots and scores.

Writer-director Christopher Nolan’s epic film essentially consists of three chapters, with the middle, Atlas-like, holding up the weaker, drawn-out beginning and end.

“Barbie” comes roaring out of the gate with an inventiveness and energy the movie perhaps inevitably can’t sustain. Amid all the hype that has made its release an increasingly rare movie-going occasion, director Greta Gerwig’s film proves an admirably ambitious attempt to ponder where Barbie fits in the 21st century – less than it could be, but pretty close to being what it should be.

The requisite thrills are there, as well as the flourishes that audiences have come to expect from the “Mission: Impossible” franchise, from the ornate masks and disguises (a staple of the original show too) to the death-defying stunts (clearly a made-for-the-movies upgrade to the formula).

Built around a predominantly Asian-American cast, it’s so determined to be crude and edgy that while its friendship dynamic lingers, its initial cleverness gets left in the rear-view mirror.

While the documentary doesn’t break much new ground, Kijak generally finds the right balance between the salacious elements and Hollywood nostalgia that remain inextricably intertwined in Hudson’s story.

For Cox, a veteran actor with no mountains left to climb and few concerns about speaking his mind, Prisoner’s Daughter plays like one of those movies where you just take the money and run.

The story certainly doesn’t break new ground, and given the modest nature of the movie, there’s a bit of impatience to get where it’s going; still, thanks to Snook and LaTorre’s beyond-her-years performance it’s never less than watchable.

Feeling the years and the miles, Harrison Ford cracks the whip for the last time, in a film that offers the requisite thrills and proves fairly emotional before it’s over.

The Perfect Find falls well short of perfection, but it’s the kind of low-key romance that often finds an appreciative audience on Netflix.

Part French sex comedy, part “American Pie”-like coming-of-age story, this raunchy vehicle for Jennifer Lawrence also possesses darker and deeper streaks that elevate it above its “Pretty. Awkward.” posters.

The sequel, Extraction 2, hammers away at the same basic outline, while feeling particularly simple minded even by the standards of the genre.

Like other self-referential horror/comedies (the “Scream” franchise come to mind), the film ably delivers on its premise, mining enough life from its satirical concept to deliver plenty of crowd-pleasing moments.

“Stan Lee” is obviously intended to be celebratory in nature, but by allowing Lee to tell the story largely in his own words, it conveys a genuine sense of what made him as big and colorful as any of the spandex-clad figures that he helped birth and spring off the page.

Elemental doesn’t quite join the studio’s hallowed top tier, but it does yield moments of magic and beauty – reflecting both the immigrant experience as well as the power of love – worthy of that legacy.

Playfully presented, it’s the kind of mildly tasty cinematic snack that doesn’t exactly stick to your ribs.

DC finds itself at a bit of a crossroads. Yet that timing makes it all the more impressive to see how “The Flash” has managed to click on all cylinders, pay respect to the company’s past while achieving the kind of balance that could and perhaps should point the way to its future.

A simple-minded strain of giant-robot combat. Much in need of a script tune-up, it’s a less-than-meets-the-eye summer-movie machine, and not a particularly well-oiled one.

While the movie remains a dazzling experience in terms of what the animation achieves, it indulges in what feels like sensory overload, seeking emotional heft in ways that slow down the action. The movie also falls victim, somewhat, to the blessings and curses associated with the multiverse, which offers infinite possibilities but also the occasional sense that there are so many permutations none of them matter all that much.

As is so often the case with these movies, the buildup is generally more terrifying than the payoff, and Savage doesn’t scrimp when it comes to jump-at-you scares.

Reality might have benefited from widening the play’s tight, almost-claustrophobic focus a little bit more for this medium, but what’s there remains stark and compelling, with Sweeney’s discomfort speaking volumes even though the character says very little.

The Little Mermaid is both slick and satisfying, meeting the primary challenge of allowing parents and kids to create memories around seeing it together. Setting aside its other assets, Bailey’s out-of-this-world contribution alone serves up the kind of splashy entertainment that justifies getting out of the summer sun, and in terms of being enjoyed far beyond that, might even have legs.

Even in a boom time for musical profiles, this HBO presentation shines brighter than most.

At its best this White Men Can’t Jump conveys the fragility of hoop dreams, while tackling what former players do with their lives once the promise of signing bonuses and sponsorship deals appears to have fizzled. (NBA star Blake Griffin, incidentally, is among the producers, joining several of his contemporaries in establishing a Hollywood toehold while still suiting up.)... On that level, at least, the movie works reasonably well. It’s the hitches in the rest of its game that prevent it, even as a streaming proposition, from being anything close to a slam dunk.

Yet for all its high-octane action this tenth film is really just revving its engine for more sequels to come, kicking off a multi-part story that offers an appropriately bloated way to bring this very loud enterprise to a (no doubt temporary) finish.

While there are some new details in the telling, the net effect leaves the Smith that people didn’t know, other than those meticulously airbrushed photo spreads, largely untouched.

A spare thriller from director/co-writer Robert Rodriguez that has the feel of a “Twilight Zone” episode, with no shortage of twists along the way.

The kill count generally provides the requisite thrills, but everything else seems stitched together from genre clichés.

STILL: A Michael J. Fox Movie is a remarkable accomplishment, making brilliant use of film clips to seamlessly illustrate and augment reenactments and the actor’s narration of his story, having spent more than 30 years living with Parkinson’s disease. Nostalgic without becoming overly sentimental, it’s an ode to Fox’s life, career and the struggle he continues to endure.

In hindsight, the most unlikely hit among Marvel’s parade of them was all about the unlikeliest of families. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 drives home that point, with a boisterous and often emotional sequel that feels very much like a true conclusion, fueled in no small part by writer-director James Gunn having migrated his talents over to rival DC.

"Are You There God?” addresses youthful preoccupations in a refreshingly relatable manner that feels almost heaven-sent.

Peter Pan & Wendy wants to conjure magic but turns out to be low on fairy dust, yielding a dreary live-action adaptation of the 1953 movie that transforms Neverland into what vaguely feels like a discount version of Pandora.

“Chris Evans and Ana de Armas” is about all that’s required to make the sales pitch for “Ghosted,” a spirited if familiar action-based romantic comedy, where the sparring banter generally outshines the muscular stunts. Throw in clever cameos and this Apple TV+ movie delivers on its promise of unpretentious fun.

Written and directed by Lee Cronin, the wit and humor that Campbell brought to past incarnations (including a Starz series revival) is in relatively short supply here. The film rather relies upon lots of jump scares and gruesome makeup effects, as well as the prospect of Ellie’s possessed form trying to do in her kids. That includes her very-young daughter (Nell Fisher), a semi-distasteful element even by the standards of the genre.

What’s billed as a horror-comedy thus can’t entirely decide where it wishes to land on that spectrum, in a movie that benefits from letting Cage cut loose without fully capitalizing upon his full-throated performance.

While this represents a considerably lighter story than his Oscar-winning “Argo,” in terms of its sheer appeal Air flies pretty high indeed, in part because its coach is savvy enough to let his winning lineup of all-stars take the ball and run with it.

Starring Taron Egerton, this Apple TV+ movie, like the game, is colorful and engaging enough that it’s hard to take your eyes off the screen.

The near-four-year gap between movies does help in one respect, allowing people to largely forget what left them unimpressed about the original.

Ultimately, “Dungeons & Dragons” delivers enough laughs and thrills to justify braving a trip to the theater. And for these purposes, that’s game, set and match.

A more-is-less epic that showcases the dazzling stunt work for which the franchise is known while piling on the action to near-exhausting extremes.

Given the enduring fascination with such material, underscored by all the recent productions about Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy, this is one of those stories that seems ripe for a redo. Because even with the uncertainty the one thing “Boston Strangler” makes clear – 55 years after the previous movie – is that when it comes to true crime, some things never go out of style.

Shazam! Fury of the Gods provides a lightning-bolt-shaped exclamation point on the realization this comedic superhero franchise was, in fact, a one-trick pony – fine for a playful origin story, without enough voltage for an encore. Everything that worked in the original works less well in this so-so sequel, blunting even the star power emitted by its high-profile villains.

It’s more a layup than a slam dunk qualitatively, rattling around a bit before finally paying off.

Champions has its heart in the right place, trying to teach the audience, through Marcus, to see his players and the actors portraying them without condescension. It’s possible to admire the message, though, without thinking much of a movie that, Marcus’ aspirations notwithstanding, belongs in the minor leagues.

65 represents such an uninspired effort as to look like a fossil even before the credits roll.