Christy Lemire

What Happens Later doesn't reach the heights of Ryan’s beloved romantic comedies, but its sweet comforts might be just the ticket if you’re looking for laughter-through-tears on the couch on a Sunday afternoon.

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is as spry and light on its feet as its titular feline.

The resulting feeling of outrage will spur viewers into action.

Here, Pfeiffer’s Kyra is our conduit to a world of anxiety and destitution within a seemingly exciting, glamorous city. And she’s absolutely heartbreaking with just the slightest register of sadness in a gesture or facial expression.

In what may be his final film, nonagenarian auteur Clint Eastwood has crafted a solid, old-fashioned courtroom drama with “Juror #2.” Always known for his efficiency as a filmmaker, Eastwood brings that same brisk energy to this suspenseful piece of storytelling.

Director Lara Stolman explores this paradox — that these young men must submerge themselves in the water to emerge as the best possible versions of themselves — with her modest documentary feature debut.

Korem doesn’t uncover too much that’s new, but more than three decades later, he gives key players the opportunity to share their memories and perspectives. The passage of time provides frank reassessments—some tragic, some humorous.

I'm No Longer Here (“Ya no estoy aqui”) is one of those Netflix movies you’ll wish you’d watched on the big screen. The film from Mexico City-born writer/director Fernando Frias de le Parra is so gorgeously shot and offers such a rich sense of place that it’s always visually compelling, even when the narrative tends to sag a bit.

What’s frustrating is that I totally agree with everything Bong is saying, I just wish he were saying it with a touch more finesse. Maybe they can do some fine-tuning in the lab for next time.

You’re likely to laugh and learn in equal measure–and so will your little ones.

With a combination of power and grace, Julianne Moore elevates Still Alice above its made-for-cable-television trappings, and delivers one of the more memorable performances of her career.

Individual scenes can be tense but the arc as a whole lacks momentum. I Smile Back should have been devastating. Silverman is willing to take you there. What it ends up being is frustrating.

This is the most beautiful Batman movie you’ve ever seen—even if it’s not really a Batman movie at all.

Suspiria is as striking and severe as the director’s “Call Me by Your Name,” the best film of 2017, was warm and welcoming.

It aims for and earns genuine emotion rather than cheap thrills.

The Menu remains consistently dazzling as a feast for the eyes and ears.

Despite what the title suggests, Wonderstruck represents a rare disappointment from master filmmaker Todd Haynes.

Brad’s Status might be the most Ben Stillerish movie Ben Stiller has ever made, and that’s actually a good thing.

The pacing is so jarring that the emotional payoff doesn’t develop as intended. And the overall irony, of course, is that this is a movie about the need for magic that could have used a little more of the stuff itself. But if it makes you think of your mom and dad fondly, even for a moment, well at least that’s something.

If you’re not already somewhat familiar with Shakespeare’s tragedy, this incarnation isn’t about to go out of its way to provide much context or explain why certain characters matter. But in an intriguing contrast, while the scale of the battles and the scenery is enormous and awe-inspiring, some of the more famous moments and lines arrive in understated fashion in intimate spaces.

Whether his film is lush or rolling in the muck, it always has a tactile quality that makes it accessible, which is also true of the performances from his (mostly) well-chosen cast.

Little Fish would have left a lingering, wistful feeling under ordinary circumstances. Debuting during a pandemic, however, adds a layer of poignancy to this story of a worldwide virus that causes memory loss, creating loneliness and isolation for both its victims and their loved ones.

Ever the fierce competitor, Molly has found a way to rule in a male-dominated world. If only Molly’s Game had let her win in the end on her own fascinating, complicated terms.

It’s a biopic about one of the most brilliant people in the history of the planet, the renowned astrophysicist Stephen Hawking – a man famous for thinking in boldly innovative ways – yet his story is told in the safest and most conventional method imaginable.

Whether or not we’d like to admit it – they’re willing to say what the rest of us are thinking when they tactlessly open their mouths without a filter.

Habits are hard to change; sadly, the people who are most likely to seek out a movie like Eating Animals are already on board with its message.

You may not walk out humming the tunes, but you’ll leave with a smile.

Dior and I won’t tell you much about Simons’ personal life, or his family, or where he lives, or why he does this, which ultimately makes it difficult to connect with him. (Interestingly, a little online research reveals, he started out as a furniture designer.)

It’s an earnest, crowd-pleasing family film – nothing snarky or self-referential, no on-the-nose needle drops - just a sweet, beautifully made movie that earns the emotion it’ll surely draw from its viewers.

The detached, bemused tone that sustains the film for so long eventually gives way to actual feelings—to its detriment—as this dark comedy steadily turns just plain dark.

Director Dawn Porter’s film is an intimate homage to both the legend and the man, as spry and lively as Lewis himself.

It’s a worthwhile film that could have been a powerful film if it had gone beyond the skin-deep.

An intimate, thorough look at a candidate on the rise and on the go.

Copley’s performance remains riveting throughout. It’s a testament to his delivery and physicality that we can hear Kaczynski speak expansively about what he’s going to do, and we can watch him experiment with various explosives, and we’re still on edge, wondering what might happen.

Jettisons everything that’s honest and worthwhile about the books in favor of hackneyed misadventures and gross-out scatological humor.

Whatever your reaction is to the latest meticulously made mind warp from writer/director Alex Garland, it won’t be indifference. This is a visceral experience, and it reinforces Garland’s singular prowess as a craftsman of indelible visuals and gripping mood.

It may seem ironic that a movie about electrifying the United States should ultimately be so tedious and forgettable, but such is the state of the delayed and troubled drama The Current War: Director’s Cut.

Shortland has essentially crafted a claustrophobic two-hander with only occasional forays into the outside world.

If you’re seeing it with hopes of glittery escapism, based on its A-list stars and a trailer that prominently features a cover of Madonna’s “Material Girl,” be prepared that the result is a little sadder, a little more substantial. And that’s much of what’s so wonderful about it.

The jumbled narrative structure allows for a couple of a-ha revelations, but it mostly creates a distance for the viewer. And yet despite these flaws, the artistry on display in Violation is undeniable.

Yes, a mournful song is woven throughout, hence the title. But The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future also requires great patience—it might be too slow of a slow burn—and there’s not much to her characters beyond a few barely sketched traits.

The documentary “We Are Guardians” tracks the constant conflict between the ecological and spiritual significance of this crucial section of Brazil and the commercial forces that brazenly invade to strip it of its resources.

It is a tried-and-true jukebox musical fantasia, seemingly prepackaged for the Broadway stage, packed with toe-tapping sing-alongs you’ve known and loved for decades.

As the film trudges toward its conclusion, it’s one frustrating scene after another like that. And by the end, you’ll realize the clever opening title sequence was probably the best part of all.

What Bill Skarsgard does with the role works well precisely because he doesn’t appear to be laboring so hard to frighten us. He doesn’t vamp it up. He’s coy — he toys with these kids — making his sudden bursts of insane clown hostility that much more shocking.

Just you try to resist the impossible adorableness offered up in the latest Disneynature documentary, Penguins. You cannot do it, despite the cutesy anthropomorphizing, the too-tidy nature of the story it’s telling and the knowingly cheesy soundtrack of ‘80s tunes accompanying these creatures’ adventures.

Damned if it doesn’t work beautifully for nearly the entirety of its two hour-plus running time. Green Book is the kind of old-fashioned filmmaking big studios just don’t offer anymore. It’s glossy and zippy, gliding along the surface of deeply emotional, complex issues while dipping down into them just enough to give us a taste of some actual substance.

While Of an Age offers plenty of moody, melancholy atmosphere, it lacks the kind of characterization that would make this story truly devastating.

You Resemble Me is at its strongest when it tries to humanize its misunderstood central figure in simple, intimate ways.

Somewhere along the road between Montreal and Mongolia, Namibia and Nepal, Egypt and Ecuador, “Blink” achieves a transcendent state of grace.

Spider-Man: Far From Home changes the scenery but can’t quite match the inspired heights of its predecessor.

The film version of the best-selling novel The Fault in Our Stars feels emotionally inert, despite its many moments that are meant to put a lump in our throats.

Imagine a cross between “Taken” and “Fargo” and you’ll get an idea of the chilly thrills “Dead of Winter” has to offer.

Raiff offers some impressive tonal mixtures and narrative surprises along the way, and even though his third act sags a bit, the performances—particularly from an achingly melancholy Dakota Johnson— remain compelling until the end.

Bell and co-star Simon Pegg are such enjoyably unlikely rom-com leads, and they have such crackling chemistry from the word go, they more than make up for some of the film’s more predictable plot elements.

Professor Marston and the Wonder Women aims to shake you up, make you think and maybe even squirm a little. Make that a lot. This movie is sexy as hell, featuring several scenes of steamy three-ways and kinky S&M games.

John Wick breathes exhilarating life into this tired premise, thanks to some dazzling action choreography, stylish visuals and–most importantly–a vintage anti-hero performance from Keanu Reeves.

Everything gets upended in the film’s final third, when its languid pacing gives way to sped-up plotting.

This may be the start of a most welcome girl-powered franchise.

French writer/director Léa Mysius concocts a compelling witch’s brew with The Five Devils, but the result doesn’t quite come together with the potency she’d desired.

You’ve seen this movie before. You’ve seen it in the past month, actually: It was called “The Hollars,” directed by and starring John Krasinski. But while that film hit every clichéd note you’d expect, despite its good intentions and great ensemble cast, Other People breathes new life into the formulaic, dark comedy about death.

If you long for the gritty charms of mid-‘90s indie cinema in general and “Trainspotting” specifically, T2 Trainspotting gives you exactly that. And by “exactly,” we really do mean “exactly.”

At only 24, Joris-Peyrafitte shows confidence and talent beyond his years, with an artful eye for imagery and a truthful ear for dialogue.

These moments remind us of the mindless summertime excitement the “Jurassic” movies have long provided, albeit with diminishing returns. But that giant footprint just isn’t as imposing as it used to be.

It’s disappointing and actually kind of cynical in its unwillingness to try anything even vaguely innovative with these beloved characters.

You’ll be able to figure out where Run is headed pretty quickly, but that doesn’t detract from the precise thrills and campy fun along the way.

The number of important, enduring 1960s and early ‘70s songs that a group of studio musicians known as The Wrecking Crew brought to life is staggering.

Uniformly strong performances help ground the story. Tremblay, who showed instincts beyond his years in the devastating 2015 drama “Room,” provides both a sweetness and an intelligence to his 10-year-old character that make him accessible even when he’s wearing an astronaut helmet to hide his face.

What’s fascinating about Jimi: All Is By My Side is not only its decision to show us this particular chapter in Hendrix’s life, but also the way it teases out the shadings in a famous figure we only think we know so well.

If the delightfully nutty “M3GAN” was a cautionary tale about the perils of relying too heavily on technology, “Missing” ends up being a celebration of its possibilities.

Hedges’ film is stronger in its first half, when it’s an understated character drama, than in its second half, when it morphs into a contrived crime thriller. But the performances remain uniformly strong and hold the story together, even as it threatens to spin out of control.

It’s steeped in traditional cultural locales and details, yet feels bracingly modern with the help of dazzling special effects and innovative action sequences.

The Report is also surprisingly free of tension, given the subject matter; if you’re going to experience any anxiety, it’ll probably come from a sense of worry over whether all of this is going to be on the final exam.

Causeway ultimately may be a little too languid, too restrained, but there’s catharsis to be found in its quiet moments and fine-tuned performances.

Because Users is so captivating from a technical perspective, it’s frustrating to discover how scattered it is narratively.

Hooper’s latest is tasteful and restrained to a fault. It is easier to admire than love.

Zippy and zany, cute and cuddly, Storks manages to balance wild humor with winning heart—for the most part.

It’s all inspiring stuff, to be sure—and often so dramatic that it’s hard to imagine it really could have happened, even though it did.

Life After Beth gets into the well-tread zombie-comedy territory in a clever and inspired way. Then it doesn’t get out of it nearly so skillfully.

For a movie about two people who loved each other so deeply, they risked losing everything to be together—their families, homes, even their countries — A United Kingdom plays it frustratingly safe.

The film’s frank talk about mental illness, suicidal thoughts, physical abuse and family loss is so potent and necessary that it makes you wish Fanning hadn’t been saddled with a treacly narration at the end, summarizing the themes.

While Where the Crawdads Sing is rich in atmosphere, it’s sorely lacking in actual substance or suspense.

While The Boy Behind the Door runs out of steam a bit in the third act, it’s mostly a tight, well-paced thriller with terrific central performances from a couple of young actors with bright futures ahead of them—once they get out of here, that is.

I am here to tell you that you will be shockingly entertained. Dora and the Lost City of Gold manages to ride a fine line between being true to the characters and conventions of the series and affectionately skewering them.

Reitman gets the superficial details of the era right: the pay phones, the big sweaters, the constant indoor smoking. But he’s missing both key insight and satirical bite in his depiction of this pivotal point in American history. Privacy is about to become a thing of the past. In The Front Runner, it dies with a whimper.

Toni Collette radiates smarts, humor and a world-weary cool in Lucky Them.

Swanberg finds a pleasingly low-key tone throughout the film, which (blissfully) is especially true during the kinds of moments that usually are played for wacky laughs in pregnancy comedies.

The story itself is so absurd and is told with enough surprises and dry humor that it’s constantly engaging.

Ron’s Gone Wrong is an indictment of the invasive, insidious tactics of Big Tech, and of the ways we relinquish a little more of our privacy with every click and view.

The stakes are higher because this is the end—It really is this time!—but the first hour or so of returning director Francis Lawrence’s film is legitimately nap-inducing.

Seeing how freakishly gifted he is and watching his ascendance is a thrill, and Cantor keeps the pacing moving crisply.

Stretched out to 90 minutes in Sponge on the Run, the pacing lags, the goofiness sags, and you discover over time that there’s not much holding these antics together.

While it’s a lot of fun, it isn’t as consistently clever or thrilling as its predecessor.

A dark comedy that’s equal parts amusing and disturbing. Stearns is ambitious in the tricky tonal balance he aims to strike here – shocking us in detached, deadpan fashion – and his story wobbles a bit by the end, but the points he’s making couldn’t be clearer or timelier.

You may realize there’s not much to Harpoon as it sails off into the sunset, but that’s OK. This is one of those movies where the journey truly is the destination.

With its amusing training montages, colorful supporting characters, and uplifting message of perseverance, The Phantom of the Open does exactly what you expect it will in the most familiar, comforting manner imaginable. It earns the politest of golf claps.

See it with someone you love, and then just try to feel smug about the security of your own relationship afterward.

While it’s drenched in style and features performances from an eclectic cast of actors who are deeply committed to the bit, and its expressions of erotic desire can be quite steamy, director and co-writer Amanda Kramer’s film feels limited and grows tiresome rather quickly.