Elizabeth Weitzman

The real problem is that no one involved seems to realize that their heroine is, in fact, an antiheroine. Had the movie gone all-in on Peg’s amorality, we might have had a more interesting project.

Though we leave Earth feeling overwhelmed, we’re also more aware than ever that he’s only shown us the tiniest fraction of our impact.

As both writer and director, Cronenberg focuses so intently on the surface that he neglects to include enough substance.

Even a weirdo drug comedy needs some clarity. And there’s not much to be found here, either in the muddy visuals, familiar special effects, or pursuit of psychotropic faux-wisdom.

Despite some grim ecological statistics and a conservationist message, the movie is so inspirational it feels like the sort of old-fashioned family film that can now be excavated on Disney+.

As a mainstream slasher remake, Black Christmas is bound to be judged a letdown. But Takal’s aims are more subversive. And thanks to her, there’s now a bonkers deconstruction of a mainstream slasher remake hiding in plain sight.

Bombshell is overpacked and unwieldy and often disconnected. There’s so much going on that no character gets the time she deserves.

The way in which tradition and progress convenes amid such challenging circumstances becomes Meirelles’ tribute to his subjects. The fact that we fully believe in this apparent impossibility feels like his gift to us.

Stokes recorded every story she possibly could, from 1977 to 2012. By then, it had become a lot easier to chronicle both the minutiae and the magnitude of life in the 21st century. But has that been an improvement? Wolf leaves it to his audience to decide, after gently pushing us past any instinctual answers.

These women wear what they want, love who they want, find fulfillment in their power, and support each other unconditionally. They’re not undermined by a script that highlights their flaws or insecurities, or a camera that reflexively leers at them. They get to just be, with all the freedoms and potential of any other fictional heroes.

Terruso has put most of her focus into the script and central performances, relying on minimalist production design and an indie rock and hip-hop soundtrack (Kil the Giant, Flipbois) that blend in rather than stand out.

The Good Liar really wants to be either a thriller or a caper. Unfortunately, it has neither the excitement necessary for the former nor the fun required of the latter.

Though Greenfield is too skilled to overplay her intentions, the picture that emerges gains additional power from its clarifying distance. The Kingmaker is required viewing for anyone concerned about the direction of their own democracy.

Filmmaker and subject also share a disdain for restraint, shouting and jostling to ensure we’ve gotten their point. But while their parallel passions aren’t exactly subtle, they do make their mark.

The movie’s biggest asset is DeBoer, who plays sweetly dim soccer mom Jill with a commitment that’s alternately terrifying and heartbreaking.

Although this wasteful effort from the “Bad Moms” team is uninspired in almost every regard, it does advance cinema in a single way: writers-directors Jon Lucas and Scott Moore have figured out how to modernize one of the most traditional and apparently still essential Hollywood tropes: the Crazy Bitch.

We keep getting glimpses of a compelling subject, but it’s hard to know what Nichols is really going for, since he tosses so many disparate elements together without tying them into a meaningful thread.

It’s always extra frustrating when a biopic falls short, especially if its subject is as compelling as the relationship between two brilliant iconoclasts like Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West.

The script is stocked with amusing one-liners, and there are just enough caustic observations to keep viewers nodding in agreement.

Odd as it is to watch both DeLoreans treated as afterthoughts, Driven is a joyride more interested in the journey than in any significant destination.

Those who arrive without any preconceptions — or are willing to stray from the novel’s style — will appreciate the assets of a modestly engaging and gently touching dramedy.

The result is artistically uneven in structure but emotionally powerful throughout.

Once Alverson has ensured that his subtext has been absorbed, he seems uncertain about where to go next.

Out-pranking the prankster, [Berman] turns a documentary about an unpredictable subject into a meditation on what it means to make a documentary about an unpredictable subject.

As with all of Shelton’s improv-inspired movies, the plot offers plenty of interest but the personalities provide the purpose.

When it comes down to it, you can’t have a strong horror movie without a strong villain. Given that Chucky is currently working overtime to torment an entire community, surely Annabelle can do more than offer up a couple of creepy grins before calling it a day.

The movie’s biggest strength is its balance between mordant humor and psychological fear.

Ultimately, the filmmakers’ intention isn’t to throw us off but to invite us in, to encourage us to wonder: Is it really so strange for one woman to have two reactions to life?