Gregory Ellwood

It's good stuff and, in a perfect world, will prompt Hollywood execs to take Winocour's directing skills very seriously.

For the most part, One Life is chronicling very familiar WW II territory. It’s not difficult to prompt genuine tension from these horrific events, but Hawes’ depiction of them is simply too conservative.

Before I Fall is a movie that will make its core audience of teenage girls melt and is a nice diversion for everyone else. It will make Hollywood studios take Russo-Young more seriously and be a calling card for Deutch, Sage and Miller. That’s not so bad, is it?

After co-writing and producing Romain Graves’ own epic of civil unrest, 2022’s “Athena,” he steps behind the camera once more for his second feature directorial effort, “Les Indésirables,” and while the subject matter is just as timely, the overall result is slightly less scintillating.

Gilroy has fashioned a character study that has moments that are incredibly well written.... What’s extremely disappointing is that the screenplay’s through line is simply not that interesting.

As a piece of filmed entertainment Snowden is certainly a watchable endeavor, but Stone and screenwriter Kieran Fitzgerald’s script is often an odd mix of hero worship, conspiratorial thriller and cringe worthy dialogue.

Too much of Moana 2 is simply far too familiar to make it anything more than a convenient escape.

The problem, unfortunately, is that Hope Gap is based on Nicholson’s play “The Retreat from Moscow” and the proceedings never really leaves the theater. Despite the director’s attempts to throw in [a few] drone shots to break up the drama and make the affairs inherently more cinematic, there are few scenes that don’t seem as though they would be more intriguing played out in front of a live audience.

An incredibly ambitious film that, at times, astounds and then somehow can’t completely stick the landing.

Sure, the story hangs on by the thinnest of threads, it loses momentum in the second act, and one or two of the songs are just a bit too repetitive. Then again, you’ll laugh. Likely a lot.

There is a kernel of an idea in Cano and Craig’s screenplay that’s worth exploring. The movie feels like it could or should be great, but it took a wrong turn somewhere on that dark road.

The film’s saving graces is not only Ahmed, who, as you’d expect, elevates the material every chance he gets, but his on-screen connection with Chauhan. Somehow, the relatively unknown Canadian actor gives one of the best performances from a young actor in recent memory.

Unfortunately, Southpaw descends into a tedious exercise of formulaic filmmaking that leaves you feeling worse for Gyllenhaal and Whitaker than the characters they play on screen.

It turns out this endeavor is a manic mix of two different movies in one and the second barely redeems it enough to make you stick around for the end credits.

The film feels 30 minutes longer than its 109 minute run time mostly due to the fact that “Paper” seems distinctly like three different films.

Minions lives and dies on its sight gags and luckily for Coffin and Balda they are almost non-stop.

There are elements of “The Yellow Birds” that should equate to a unique cinematic experience. Unfortunately, like Bartle’s return home, you leave the theater somewhat dazed, confused and thinking of what went wrong.

What you take away from Wendy, however, is that Zeitlin’s talent to soar cinematically remains intact. He can transport you to a fantastical world without the benefit of massive CG effects or a massive set on a gigantic soundstage.

While the kids are pretty fantastic overall, it’s the collaboration between Brill and Bonilla that takes Heller’s screenplay to another level.

For kids, the film is watchable because Black still finds ways to boost the movie with genuine charisma through his vocal talents alone (so much so you wonder why he isn’t working more in live action) and, for adults, something is reassuring in the glorious exasperation that accompanies everyone of Hoffman’s line readings. Still, it all feels a little too by the book.

If you’re wondering whether you’ll believe Streep is a convincing rock musician, please. It’s Meryl Streep here. She sounds like she’s ready to open for Bruce Springsteen.

Unlike McDowell and Lader’s underrated 2014 comedic thriller “The One I Love” the most disappointing aspect of The Discovery is that it’s something of a bore. And when you find out what “The Discovery” really is you simply don’t care anymore.

To say Farber’s screenplay is plot-heavy is an understatement.

Greta is one of those thrillers where you see almost every twist coming, but the actors are so into it that you still get sucked in.

Despite Deakins and Mendes’ shorthand in framing gorgeous images, there are moments, especially in the second act, where the film could simply use a bit more energy. Luckily, for Mendes, Colman provides it soon after and when the movie needs it most.

The Program works when it has you questioning how on earth this secret could be kept so quiet for so long when so many people knew exactly what was going on.

His characters may spout Kant and debate the ethics of different human interactions, but it's only sugar coating on top of what is effectively a simple and familiar story.

Fogelman clearly gets a thrill in constructing a tapestry full of one random tragedy after another (seriously, almost nothing good seems to happen to these people long term). And he also appears to love manipulating the audience’s emotions with these subsequent tragedies.

Despite a few too many storylines and Wilson’s comedic indulgence, the musical numbers are often inspired and pack a punch. Wilson proves she can direct the musical aspect of the movie, at least. And, boy, these Aussie kids, er, legal age twentysomething adults can sing.

While it’s not a complete home run – it is a wee bit too long and certainly not as funny overall as it should be – in the end, it delivers. Because, love it or hate it, this film will linger with you. You certainly won’t forget Aitchison’s stirring performance.

The film is at its best when the storyline gets dangerously real and Bullock’s character struggles to justify the back room king making of a campaign with the needs of the country’s poor majority.

Perhaps it worked better as a theatrical endeavor, but the result is a film that feels like a collection of familiar hospital set storylines thrown together without a true compelling throughline.

Parthenope’s fictional life story may actually not be as intriguing as Sorrentino thinks it is. A movie that begins with blistering sex appeal really starts to lose momentum in its third act.

As Love Me unfolds, it becomes an exercise to explore how very human emotions affect evolving artificial intelligence beings. Although referring to it as an exercise sounds unfairly cold. The movie is certainly not that. Both Stewart and Yeun bring passion to their characters. . . But something feels off.

The film’s saving grace, of course, is Squibb. When the movie needs her the most, she delivers. She brings the laughs and – almost – gives the film the emotional ending it’s aiming for.

The result, as hinted earlier, is a high-end B-movie that would have been in heavy rotation on cable television’s TNT or USA Network as a wallpaper movie in the ’00s. And there is something genuinely fun about filmmakers wanting to dip their toes back into those waters. But, for that genre to work, it needs to be less bloated than this and, more importantly, not end by teasing a sequel.

Love may not be as erotic as many expect. The gratuitous sex may eventually start to bore many viewers. Some may even take off their 3D glasses because they simply aren't necessary. Yet, for all its faults, Love is a film that somehow still resonates.

As always, Dinklage is exquisite in a mostly silent performance that conveys the pain and survivor’s guilt Del has bottled up inside him following the incident.

Ellis ratches up the intensity to an almost stomach-turning level. It’s partially the filmmaking. It’s also the recognition of how dangerous this mortality game has become.

An impressive cast and significant real-life events can’t trump the fact it’s a badly made movie.

As the film progresses, the narrative choices somehow become even less believable and Lellouche begins to throw everything and the kitchen sink at the screen.

Styles, night and day here compared to his work in that other fall release, wonderfully inhabits a working-class man fearful of public scrutiny but unable to hide his true self.

At its best, a welcome addition to the increasing number of contemporary Native American stories seen in the films such as “Songs My Brother Told Me,” “Wild Indian” and FX’s “Reservation Dogs.” At worst, it’s a disjointed narrative that sadly overstays its welcome.

This sort of storyline could go wrong very quickly, but thanks to some fortuitously funny moments, Vallee’s assured direction and Gyllenhaal’s spectacular performance it’s surprisingly compelling. And, let’s be absolutely clear: it’s Gyllenhaal who keeps it all together.

Despite the shootouts, some epic vistas (frankly, not as much as you’d expect), and a few fleeting moments of genuine tension, it all feels flat.

Beyond some obvious pot shots and on-the-nose metaphors, it begins to feel more and more like a missed opportunity than smart satire.

Despite a committed performance from Benedict Cumberbatch, the end result truly doesn’t coalesce either from an artistic or cinematic perspective.

What keeps “Jimpa” from collapsing on itself is Colman’s steady turn (don’t forget, she’s so talented she was the only compelling aspect of Marvel Studios’ disastrous “Secret Invasion”) and Matthew Chuang’s wonderfully lush cinematography.

Its admittedly interesting source material, but the movie’s tone is all over the place and not in a good way.

Despite the worthy efforts of stars Tom Hiddleston and Elizabeth Olsen, the Hank Williams biopic I Saw The Light is a shockingly bad movie.

Despite a “you can see it coming” final baccarat game in the third act, designed to crowd-please, it all somehow feels flat and generic. And, worse, decidedly not fresh.

What makes “We Are” worth your time is Joseph’s skill in conveying the euphoria of dance music in the context of an actual movie.

The worst aspect of ‘Rebel’ is that Strong seems to have no vision as a filmmaker. The movie thinks it’s throwing in some wise words about the art of writing, but they are superficial at best.

While the cinematic moments and winks at French pop culture history will be nostalgic for many, it’s the bond between Deneuve and this new Marcello that resonates the most.

All of “Pastoral’s” problems could have been slightly forgiven if McGregor showed a hint of inspiration behind the camera.

The only aspect of the film that even makes it watchable ends up being Shannon’s portrayal of Westinghouse.

Despite a talented cast, the comedic aspect of the movie is tepid at best. Outside of Ariel’s character (Edebiri saves a lot of it), the jokes are obvious and predictable. Moreover, Ariel is the only well-rounded character in the movie despite, maybe, the ego-driven Moretti.

It may be bloated, but Moonfall always feels like it’s moving at a somewhat brisk pace. And the filmmaker’s greatest talent is collaborating with visual effects teams to craft images that somehow get seared in your brain.

The result is a melodrama where any sense of tension fades the longer Nina and Tito speak.

There is a sense of exhaustive familiarity that permeates throughout Taylor Hackford’s new dramedy The Comedian.

If you want to relieve some of the MJ magic, Jafar, Fuqua, and those timeless bangers will quench a nostalgic thirst that will make you want to forget all that “negative stuff.” For a few moments anyway.

When the laughs fade, the tone feels all too familiar. Despite superb work behind the camera and some picturesque Estonian locations, “Bubble” is less original than it wants to be.

Despite youngster Aksoy-Etaix’s commendable performance, not only will you not believe, you also won’t care.

Apologies in advance, but for lack of a better descriptor the whole thing is a mess. It’s not even good enough to be a cult movie which is backhanded compliment anyway. But, hey, at least the actors tried.

Demoustier is charismatic enough to almost help Donzelli pull it off, but Elkaïm is so stiff as Julien you never understand why Marguerite is willing to risk her life in the first place.

Sorkin’s voice dominates the discourse and the film rarely has a chance to catch its collective breath. While you have to give the duo credit for attempting an unconventional structure, it’s a choice that arguably only works thanks to the contributions of a stellar ensemble.

Not only is Madame Web a mess of a movie it doesn’t even qualify as a “it’s so bad it’s good” moment of escapist entertainment. It suffers from a much worse fate: it’s utterly forgettable.