James Berardinelli

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is harmless enough, although it exists more as an afterthought than a legitimate continuation of a story that was fully told twenty years ago after the first 105 minutes.

When compared to the recent influx of musical biopics, this one sits somewhere in the middle; there is too little depth to elevate it to the top, but the soundtrack is too strong to let it sink to the bottom.

The obligatory concluding remark for a horror movie about the undead applies here: the best approach is to leave it buried.

In terms of checking off the genre’s requisite boxes, You, Me & Tuscany does just enough to earn a passing grade for rom-com devotees who prioritize "vibes" over cinematic standards.

While I admired the lead performances, the journey of The Drama remains unfulfilling. When I see a movie like this, I want to connect with the characters and believe their circumstances. I got some of the former but practically none of the latter.

If the idea of spending 90 minutes in a movie theater seeing gorgeously rendered versions of a hugely popular gaming world and its characters going through the motions appeals to you, then The Super Mario Galaxy Movie will scratch the itch.

This has "future cult film" written all over it. But, for those who are more concerned about the here and now, this is a film that delivers on its own peculiar brand of delights before wearing out its welcome.

There are far worse horror sequels clogging up the streaming services, and Ready or Not 2: Here I Come at least occasionally delivers on the promised gore and dark humor. Still, for those who just want to see Samara Weaving go scorched-earth on some devil-worshippers one more time, there are enough viscera and sharp objects to provide a passing entertainment.

Project Hail Mary is more about the wonder of the unknown and the satisfaction of finding new friends.

Ultimately, The Bride! has "cult classic" written all over it. It possesses very little mainstream appeal—it is simply too weird and outlandish for the average moviegoer—but there are enough flashes of brilliance to fascinate a niche audience in years to come.

There is a sense of formulaic efficiency here that provides entertainment without soul-stirring depth.

There’s only so far you can take a slasher series without doing something truly off-the-wall. Since the studio refused to attempt a radical refit, we’re left with this: a franchise-charring dumpster fire.

Looking back at Psycho Killer as a whole, the missteps in the final 20–30 minutes easily overwhelm some of the earlier, better material. It's tough to recommend this even as a streaming time-waster.

If the mandate for any new interpretation is to offer something fresh, one is left wondering what this version claims as its justification for taking up over two hours of our time.

While the climax does not lack for action, the overall resolution feels flaccid and undercooked.

Solo Mio is pretty much what one could reasonably expect from a Kevin James romantic movie: genial, good-natured, and ultimately pretty bland.

If the legend of Dracula has become tired through overuse, there is certainly nothing in this iteration to grant the old Count a new lease on life.

For action fans, Shelter scratches an itch, even if it’s destined to be little more than a passing distraction.

Send Help makes for an interesting counterpoint to Swept Away; the similarities are too frequent to be coincidental. Yet, where the Wertmüller film openly courted controversy for its misogynistic elements, Send Help is a more straightforward, crowd-pleasing endeavor.

At best, this is a late-night time-waster to be watched on Prime Video when all better options have been exhausted.

The Bone Temple doesn't work entirely well as a stand-alone, but as part of a larger whole, it is a very good continuation of the ongoing tale. It leaves me hoping for a successful box office run so we can see how the whole thing ends.

The film captures a specific fissure in American history, where the ancient, superstitious wilderness was beginning to yield to the steam and steel of the industrial age.

It doesn’t feel fresh, but neither is it stale. Despite the very modern setting, the throwback elements are by far the most welcome aspects being offered, proving that sometimes, sticking to the basics is the smartest move a director can make.

Delivered with dashes of black comedy, thriller elements, and pathos, this film illustrates how even a seemingly decent, hard-working man can be driven to unthinkable lengths in pursuit of a job that's to die for… or, more appropriately, to kill for.

Made well, this sort of material has the potential for a deliciously lurid two hours. But Feig's lack of aptitude with the material results in a cheap and artificial product, never really drawing the viewer into its web and spinning an overlong yarn that fails to embrace an identity.

Marty Supreme is a flawed beast—occasionally irritating, sometimes shallow, and undeniably exhausting. But that exhaustion is the point. Safdie drags the audience through the wringer not to punish us, but to make the final release that much sweeter. Driven by Chalamet’s fearless performance and a directorial style that refuses to blink, the film leaves an impression.

Sentimental Value offers a powerful story about fathers and daughters, roads not taken, the thirst for redemption, and the path toward reconciliation.

Song Sung Blue is a good story—heartwarming, uplifting, tear-jerking, and chock full of a beautiful noise.