Emily Zemler

Comparisons aside, Mickey 17 is a remarkably solid and compelling sci-fi flick, with an absurdist flair that can only come from a filmmaker like Joon Ho.

There are questions and uncertainties that linger once the movie ends. But like difficult, repressed memories, there is no easy resolution to be found.

Even the film’s title lacks a much-needed punch. Ridley is a strong action heroine, but she deserves better material than this.

The Gorge is chaotic and fun, despite some narrative and design hiccups. It’s too bad it’s not heading for the big screen. This is the sort of thing you want to experience with a lively audience with the sound turned all the way up.

A film can exist for aesthetic value alone, but only if it doesn’t try to expand itself to unreached depths. In the end, Parthenope seems to assert is that beauty is unappreciated until it vanishes—a lesson we all learn too late—but like its lead character, the film remains too shallow to fully understand.

Companion offers a relatively surface-level thriller that asks far bigger questions than its easygoing vibe might suggest.

Diaz and her co-star Jamie Foxx are genuinely charismatic, often delivering lines with a winking sarcasm and likeability. But Back in Action muddles its tone too much to be actually funny, a detriment to the cast’s best efforts.

It’s occasionally diverting, sure, but so is killing time while you wait for your flight to board.

A Complete Unknown never really parses anything new about Dylan or reveals his psychology, instead letting us continue to wonder about the man behind the dark lens. It’s a thrilling, entertaining journey as we do, with performances that never falter by actors who clearly did the work and then let it go once on set.

Despite a lot of silliness, primarily thanks to Nivola’s absurdist performance as the Rhino, Kraven the Hunter is entertaining—far more so than expected based on Morbius and Madame Web. If only it wasn’t so convoluted or dragged down by extraneous characters. If only the CGI was better.

The screenplay, from Hailey DeDominicis, lacks the vibrancy you expect from a light-hearted holiday movie. Sure, there are a few genuine emotional moments and Lohan aptly gives Avery as much dimension as possible, but there’s only so much she and Chenoweth can do to liven things up.

It’s equal parts compelling, ridiculous and uproariously pleasurable, often to the point where you can almost hear director Ridley Scott shouting, “Are you not entertained?”

It’s not a flashy movie, and the vintage aesthetic sometimes feels unnecessarily dour, but it makes for good storytelling that embraces both our past and present concerns at once. And sometimes it’s the unassuming movies that manage to sneak up on you.

Katherine is searching for inspiration during her time in Morocco and, meanwhile, Dern should search for a better project.

Although the film centers on Trump, a divisive man and genuine threat to American democracy, Sherman and Abbasi leave space for The Apprentice to embrace larger themes. It’s about the possibility of corruption and how easily money and power can entice us.

It is both empathetic and brutal, but at the core is a hint of optimism. That despite our human instinct to create conflict, we could do better. In conveying this in such an original way, McQueen proves that there is always a new way to navigate a well-trodden path.

Like the book, Chris Sanders’ onscreen adaptation is compassionate, funny and filled with unexpectedly poignant moments.

My Old Ass is a success because it’s so earnest, allowing these ideas to resonate with subtle humor, emotional heft and, most importantly, self-acceptance.

Directed by Burton and written by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, the fantastical comedy is a hilariously strange and charismatic voyage through Hollywood’s best creative minds and most skilled special effects magicians.

Despite the cast and the director’s best efforts, this is a movie that so desperately wants to be edgy that it somehow becomes completely dull.

A lot of boxes are ticked here—a protagonist who runs a flower shop, a love interest who is a chef, the ridiculous character names, Lively’s impeccable-but-quirky wardrobe and hair, a Taylor Swift song that plays at the exact right emotional moment—and It Ends With Us could have easily felt completely contrived. It’s a credit to Baldoni, Lively and their collaborators that it doesn’t.

The movie, brought to life in part thanks to the efforts its star and producer Scarlett Johansson, is a charming, cute possible history, invoking rom-com tactics and old-fashioned appeal in a way that is fairly successful.

The challenge here is that Kidman and Efron have no spark, which makes it awkward and uncomfortable to witness their coupling.

It’s gritty, nostalgic and occasionally romanticized, especially if you have an affinity for the era in which it’s set, which Nichols clearly does.

Those looking to re-experience the tear-jerking emotional heft of Inside Out won’t find that here, although the climatic scenes are sweet. It’s less joy than it is moderate satisfaction.

I Used to Be Funny reflects on essential concepts, even if it doesn’t always grasp them in a satisfying way. Still, it’s worth watching Sennott in almost anything.

Tuesday is a challenging watch at times, and it requires an acceptance of the strange world it inhabits, but it’s a deeply worthwhile experience.

Rønning unfurls the journey with tension and then triumph, even if some of the storytelling leans towards the formulaic.