Brian Lowry

Ammonite joins a long list of forbidden love stories, yielding a movie presented in washed-out tones, which shines principally thanks to Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan. The result is a slow-moving, somewhat predictable but finally effective period romance that primarily serves as an old-fashioned testament to star power.

Promising Young Woman combines a promising star and timely premise into a provocative but less-than-satisfying thriller.

Director Gerard Johnstone builds up nicely toward those moments, smartly taking its time before the casualties and coincidences start piling up. The film is also a savvy rumination on the perils of letting technology serve as the ultimate babysitter, with Cady becoming a bit of a little monster herself when deprived of M3GAN’s company.

Belushi turns out to be a lot more than just another look at a star who succumbed to drug abuse, but rather a celebration of John Belushi's talent -- and an era -- as recalled by those who knew him best. R.J. Cutler's documentary has its melancholy moments, but from the opening glimpse of Belushi's "Saturday Night Live" audition video, it surely won't give you the blues.

Power makes an intellectual argument, but it’s built on a visceral foundation, purposefully bleeding from past generations into the current one.

Yet for all the enjoyable flourishes, and there are many, Ephron keeps pausing to remind us, through various contrivances, that this is a movie, making it hard for anyone to really get lost in the story.

Four Hours at the Capitol might be unlikely to change many hearts or minds, but watching the evidence months removed from the heat of the moment and the chaos that unfolded live on TV makes it difficult to entertain arguments that the media has overblown or misrepresented those images.

Even if the movie’s head is occasionally in the clouds, “Orion’s” heart is very much in the right place.

What ensues, though, is essentially a rather low-octane thriller, punctuated by trips down memory lane. And while there are some fine moments buried within all that -- some showcasing Gilligan's quirky streak, like an incongruous rendition of the song "Sharing the Night Together" -- it still feels a trifle unnecessary.

For all that the film does well, in trying to balance its cerebral, visceral and sequel aspects, Candyman appears to have bitten off a bit more than it can chew.

It is, frankly, a lot to absorb — and would risk crumbling under the weight of Lee’s ambition were it not for the second gut punch to the region that BP’s horrifying blunder delivered.

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.

Both in its cultural specificity and the passage of time, Society of the Snow delivers a credible take on a remarkable story – augmented by the prolific Michael Giacchino’s score – while hampered somewhat by the limitations imposed by how those events unfolded.

On the plus side, writer-director James Gunn's movie is superior to its predecessor on most every level. Balancing that, the R-rated mayhem becomes a trifle numbing, blunting the overall effect.

There's always the risk of sounding preachy in this sort of exercise in a way that scares off those who can be reached, or perhaps worse, being unduly optimistic. Attenborough finds a middle ground.

Moss, whose gift for speaking volumes with purposeful stares is well-documented on "The Handmaid's Tale," perfectly captures the sense of invasion Cecelia feels, and at first, helplessness. Her growing strength, in the face of such an overwhelming threat, is the movie's most empowering element.

In Pattinson, the producers have found a Dark Knight worthy of the hoopla, while creating a Gotham much in need of him. As new chapters go, it's a strong beginning; if only it had known when to end.

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.”

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings conjures a slick addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, one that owes less to the comics than most of its predecessors. The movie not only strikes a welcome blow for inclusion with its predominantly Asian cast, but deftly juggles epic world building with lighter comedy in a way that should appeal to audiences, depending on how many can be lured back to theaters at this moment.

Pixar movies have a habit for finding simple truths and tugging at the heartstrings, and Luca accomplishes some of that deftly enough before it's over.

The thrills don’t look cheap, exactly, but the whole thing feels a bit cheaper, as if this were the pilot for an anthology series titled “Tales of the Predator,” charting periodic visits through history.

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.

Briskly balancing a dizzying assortment of parts, Marvel's latest (by way of Sony) looks destined to do what only a spider can -- namely, lure vast numbers of fans into its web.

Pixar's enviable track record with original animation is a mixed blessing, creating sky-high expectations for each new movie. Onward, an undeniably emotional and imaginative concept, joins that rich tradition, without reaching the upper rungs of the ladder set by its predecessors.

Directed by Brett Harvey, Inmate #1 has a few minor flaws, including an overly sappy musical score. Still, its subject is so inherently likable that a feature-length dose of Trejo's boundless energy feels like the kind of adrenaline shot we can use right about now.

Thanks to the power of the subject matter and Day's knockout performance, The United States vs. Billie Holiday is worth seeing. But the film is generally at its best when watching, and listening to, the lady sing.

A Quiet Place Part II manages to be perfectly fine, and unsurprisingly, a more generic affair -- one that offers less for audiences to cheer, quietly or otherwise, beyond the renewed sensation of being frightened in the dark.

The Outpost manages to be both harrowing and less than completely involving, a movie that can be admired for its visceral portrayal of war while leaving the characters underdeveloped.