Emma Kiely

It's trying to be a slasher movie so we ultimately have to judge it by those standards. And as a slasher, with its thin plot and flat killer, Haunt Season doesn't cut it.

A fun concept does not automatically mean a quality film, as the overly intense direction, hollow scares, and imbalance of tone make it a thrown-together mess.

Carmoon establishes a plot that could have been great, but becomes too caught up in the visuals of it all, and the script pays the price.

If The Killer teaches us anything, it’s that any director, no matter how legendary they are, can fall victim to a bad script. While Fincher’s iconic style permeates the two-hour runtime, the hollow plot and uninspired writing are impossible to ignore.

Hulu's Whitney Wolfe biopic never tries to break free from the predictable confines of the genre.

To see Clooney and Roberts team up again when they have demonstrated in the past (the Oceans movies and Money Monster) that they go together like rum and coke is a lot of fun, but it also makes it undeniably noticeable that they deserve better. I don't mean an Oscar-worthy dramatic biopic. But a rom-com with some nuance and wit.

While Comer makes a committed effort to carry the film, it falls flat in its excessive filler, undeveloped characters, and symphony of bonkers accents.

For now, stick with the original.

Come for Lohan, stay for Harding, and watch until the end for Kristin Chenoweth — all while ignoring some of the most robotic dialogue your ears ever heard.

Instead of burrowing into their differing ideas about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and how they differ based on class and background, Anna and Jamie’s romance is based entirely on them exchanging progressively earnest platitudes, quotes taken from centuries-old poetry that the script dumbs down and shoehorns into every moment between the couple.

Dreams is probably the same old story for Michel Franco fans, but as a first-time viewer, I was in awe of how a film could go so wrong so quickly.

Mad About the Boy is the disappointing end to a franchise that should have never gone beyond its first sequel.

While It Ends With Us and Regretting You contained at least some decent acting and production value, Reminders of Him is a grim dose of misery and trauma porn punctuated by a terrible lead performance and an undeniable conservative sheen.

Bloat really doesn’t seem like a movie that knows what it wants to be.

To its credit, there are some decent gore scenes, and the practical makeup is done well, but not enough to distract from some pretty laughable special effects. Compared to the original and even the 2010 version that won the Oscar for Best Makeup, Whannell’s version isn’t breaking any new ground.

Stranger Eyes is a cold, disjointed, and stale mystery thriller with a thin plot and no atmosphere.

It all falls apart as there are no personal touches, character specificities, or horror sensibilities that fill in the many gaps of this hollow script.

The 2022 Matilda takes the narrative and world of a child and puts it on an adult’s terms. It completely misunderstands why so many children around the world adore these stories - because they were written for them and not their parents. Stick to the original 1996 movie folks, don’t be the boring witch.

The central problem of Morbius is a lazy and uninspiring script. No weight or depth is given to any character. There’s little humor and when it tries to make a tongue-in-cheek joke, it fails miserably.

What was once considered revolutionary or sharp commentary is now so passé and outdated that it makes the film feel like an ancient relic — a bad one.

It’s a totally pointless pursuit that has no interest in interrogating why A Serbian Film came into existence, only how. An 80-minute behind-the-scenes promotional featurette for a film that, even after an entire documentary devoted to defending its existence, still feels completely meaningless.

Parthenope is a decades-spanning slice-of-life movie that has no interest in diving into the complexities of its protagonist.

Night Swim is a missed opportunity of epic proportions, and it’s yet another in a streak of Blumhouse projects failing to bring anything new to the horror genre.

The creatively (and morally) bankrupt and downright offensive biopic glosses over Amy Winehouse’s complicated, and ultimately, tragic life to shine a more flattering light on her father and ex-husband, distorting the real-life events in her life to tell its own narrative.

With a lack of any undersea horror action, off-kilter characterization punctuated by poor acting, and a script that is taking itself way more seriously than it has any right to, there’s no enjoyment to be taken from this shameless attempt to capitalize on a lucrative IP.

Equal parts heinous and hysterical, Travolta’s attempt at screenwriting and directing will go down as one of the most atrocious debuts ever committed to screen.