Jacob Hall

It's impossible to describe. It's unlike anything you've ever seen. It's the best American movie in years, and certainly the best movie to hit theaters since the pandemic began.

Warfare is downright experimental in its presentation, daring even in how it bucks form and structure. As an experience, it cuts to the bone.

It's easy to imagine this becoming a favorite movie for curious, creative kids and their cineaste parents — a cute, sweet, funny, imaginative tale dressed up like reality, an ode to survivors and the power of community.

This is a great time at the movies, the kind of dark comedy that plays to the crowd and the kind of pseudo-thriller that keeps you guessing as each poor decision made by its lead character introduces a new wrinkle in the ongoing spiral of drama and recklessness.

If more world-building, bigger action, and a deeper embrace of what its leading man does well all perk up your ears, you know what you need to know. As someone who has been in the tank for these movies for nearly a decade now, the fourth film is everything I wanted out of these movies. Yeah, I'm thinking he's back.

This is a biopic made by a mad man, filmed in a visual language that defies categorization, with musical numbers that would make Baz Luhrmann dizzy.

As a road trip movie, Civil War is quite good, with some segments proving more enthralling than others. Dunst is the standout among the cast, keeping us anchored through the more episodic elements, but Wagner Moura, Stephen McKinley Henderson, and Cailee Spaeny contribute strong work.

This is a major motion picture built on the hope that audiences will want to see a cast of attractive, charming, interesting actors bounce off each other on screen, trading barbs and dashing looks. There's no franchise-building here, and no ambitions beyond offering the audience primal, pure pleasures. 

Babes would be a stressful film if it wasn't such a funny one, if its leads weren't so charming, their chemistry so lived-in.

Naturally, like any major studio movie based on a well-known IP, the film is full of big action and big special effects, but the charm never dissipates.

Eventually, Heretic does evolve into something a bit more familiar, shedding the heart-pounding sense of pure wrongness that defines the first hour in favor of more action, violence, and traditional excitement. And it's all very well-executed, frequently very scary and, honestly, probably the right choice for filmmakers who clearly care about their audience.

It's an action movie for progressive-minded audiences who need some kind of relief in an era of instability and terror as well as an action movie for folks who just want to watch Dev Patel decimate every single person who dares cross his path.

Yes, "Evil Dead Rise" is the most "Evil Dead" movie, from the mind-melting body horror to the outrageous creature design to the darkly comedic spring in its step. Here's a movie that invites you to treat the decimation of a family unit by demonic forces like a big ol' party. There is a select portion of the human population who will find that reprehensible. The rest of us freaks can just crack open the cursed book, read the cursed words, and enjoy the cursed ride.

This is a hard film to dislike. Cage brings what you'd expect, Pascal brings even more, and their awkward, adorable, genuine kinship represents how so many of us feel about Cage these days.

As intended, "Section 31" is the Michelle Yeoh show, and she wears Georgiou like a spiky, vampy, blood-soaked glove at this point. Either you enjoy watching Yeoh strut and kick and smirk through action scenes, or you have no taste.

Blair made a movie that feels built to amuse himself. And I'm glad it exists. It feels like he got away with ... something.

This is a movie that sets out on its own dark mission, and accomplishes that mission with a skill that is undeniable.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a small film, one that is comparable in size and scope to the original. Its greatest ambitions are to funky and freaky and weird, like it wants to make the filmmakers laugh first and hopefully the audience comes along for the ride.

Emerald Fennell remains a filmmaker to watch, a provocateur who's downright giddy to sit in the muck with you, teeth flashing in a deadly grin. And in Barry Keoghan, she's found a collaborator who understands her nasty sensibilities and digs in up to the hilt.

The blood is good. The traps are good. The series' nastiness is intact, even as it all looks a bit bigger and a bit slicker. The important thing is that "Saw X" continues to be unafraid of its own continuity, so infatuated with its own delightful bulls***.

The very idea of a biopic about a guy who claimed to invent a hot Cheeto feels like a gag, but it could've sidestepped all of that by avoiding the usual biopic cliches. But Flamin' Hot leans into them with an aggressiveness that makes "Bohemian Rhapsody" look like "I'm Not There." It would be insulting if it wasn't so tired.

Once you squint and look past the Gyllenhaal of it all, there's not much on offer here. The leading man tears through a thin sketch of a story, populated by characters, performances, and even action that feel like placeholders.

The beauty of the "V/H/S" series is that it continues to showcase the infinite flexibility of found footage horror, giving thrilling collections of genre filmmakers a chance to strut their stuff and test the boundaries. And with "V/H/S 85," everyone means business.