G. Allen Johnson

Young Hearts is a film that doesn’t traffic in big plot twists or dramatic reveals. It’s a film that treasures fragile thoughts and feelings, rare in a film these days.

Efficiently directed by Marc Webb (the Andrew Garfield “Spider-Man” movies) with an excellent production design by Kave Quinn, “Snow White” is everything you need it to be and nothing more.

The cold, efficient and really British spy thriller stars a marvelous Michael Fassbender (“The Killer”), a sly Cate Blanchett (“Tár”) and an underused but most welcome Pierce Brosnan, who all help overcome a ridiculous premise.

The last half-hour of “Opus” is an unbearable slog, with an unsatisfying ending.

There is a sweet romantic comedy action that sometimes emerges in this bone crunching, bloody spectacle, but only occasionally does it surface.

Bong has an original vision and a distinctive style that’s not to be dismissed. He’s our era’s Terry Gilliam, where hope pushes through the tragicomic nihilism.

This is a lean, fast-moving and effective movie, with an undersea world that is as vast and lonely as outer space.

All this could work, but Perkins never finds the proper tone in what is almost a spoof of the horror genre.

Complete with cliches and culturally cringe-inducing stereotypes — poor but happy villagers, sweaty villains — Peruvians will hardly use this film in their tourist advertising.

Captain America: Brave New World doesn’t have such lofty ambitions — its makers probably just thought it was a cool title — but it is surprisingly engaging, primarily because of the people in ‘t.

Love Hurts is that rare action movie almost devoid of noticeable computer effects. It’s a hand-to-hand, bone-crunching martial arts movie with tongue firmly in cheek, resembling those Jackie Chan action comedies from the 1980s and ’90s.

It’s a film that feels instantly antiquated, despite its attempts to capture Gen Z angst.

Jerome and Lopez build an undeniable chemistry that powers the movie, and it wouldn’t work at all unless Jerome wasn’t excellent as well. He is.

Oh, Canada is about not so much Fife’s artistic growth as his journey to hermetically sealed narcissism.

Clocking in at a mere 79 minutes, featuring plenty of laughs and climaxing with a rousing chase, “Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl” is an impressive feat of clay, a winning choice in a competitive animated holiday season.

Babygirl likely will divide viewers, but no matter what side one takes — and despite a bit of a shaky denouement — it is more than just a provocative talker.

Aided by sumptuous cinematography (Eduard Grau), a haunting score (Alberto Iglesias) and eye-popping production design (Inbal Weinberg) – there’s always a font of interior decorating ideas in an Almodóvar film – Martha’s journey toward the great unknown has everything but a light at the end of the tunnel.

Women’s sports owes a debt to Shields. She finally has a movie that gives her deserved flowers.

If you know the Dracula legend, you know what comes next. “Nosferatu,” which also was remade by Werner Herzog in 1979, is therefore somewhat predictable. But the images and performances are so riveting that it doesn't matter.

Working from a script by Jeff Nathanson, Jenkins, who got his filmmaking start in San Francisco and directed the best picture-winning “Moonlight” (2016), efficiently tells a simple story very well, although his style isn’t that much different from that of Jon Favreau, who directed the first computer-animated film.

Pigossi, star of the Brazilian Netflix series “Invisible City,” neatly avoids wallowing in Lourenço’s misery and instead finds a humanity one can root for. It’s a powerfully emotional performance that lifts all boats in this picturesque drama.

Moana 2 is finally here, ready to assault audiences this holiday season with one of the most ill-conceived sequels in Disney history. It took three directors to sink this movie — Dana Ledoux Miller, Jason Hand and David Derrick Jr. — and it’s so bad it feels like they did it on purpose.

A mini-masterpiece, with lean filmmaking and lots of surprises.

The landscape against which a mother and her son try to find each other is stunningly realized.

Reitman handles the ensemble cast with Robert Altman-esque assurance. “Saturday Night” is bursting with talent and ideas, is sometimes funny, sometimes groan-worthy, sometimes full of it — and even, at times, inspired. In other words, much like a typical episode of “Saturday Night Live.”

Ultimately, it is Ronan who transcends the material and almost wills “The Outrun” into something more than the sum of its parts. Her Rona is tempestuous and passionate, and soon discovers that to master herself she must surrender to nature.

How can you screw up a movie that has Lady Gaga? Here’s how: Make it claustrophobic, with the first half a brutal prison picture and the second half an excruciatingly dull courtroom drama.

Think of all the ways “Apartment 7A” could have slyly addressed these times, or, conversely, more fully explored the practices of the Castavets’ cult. Instead, it's just a retread, and that’s why it’s bad. The devil is in the details.