Brian Lowry

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.