James Berardinelli

Despite its share of missteps (the most egregious of which unfortunately occurs late in the proceedings), Limbo is just weird and wonderful enough to earn a recommendation. What starts out as an exercise in absurdist and surreal comedy turns into a serious examination of the artificial boundaries that have been drawn to divide humanity in the name of nationalism.

40% fight scenes and 60% fan service, Simon McQuiod’s slash-and-gore fest will leave the uninitiated scratching their heads while the die-hards jump to their feet and applaud.

By employing nostalgia but not relying exclusively on its effects, the filmmakers are able to tell the story of how the program started with details that may surprise all but the most knowledgeable of fans.

While the movie will play as well at home as in a theater, it offers the kind of heart-warming, thoughtful, and occasionally amusing story that’s badly needed in troubled times.

Belly-flopping into the superhero movie pool, Thunder Force illustrates what happens when filmmakers take a moderately interesting premise and surround it with witless writing, cringe-inducing acting, stagnant action, humor-deprived comedy, and feckless drama.

Although it might seem odd to call a disaster film “low-key,” the label applies in this case. That shouldn’t be interpreted as a criticism. There are times when a less-is-more approach results in gripping entertainment and The Tunnel is one such example.

As a cavalcade of highlight clips, it’s hard to imagine something more attention-catching. But as a movie… What works as a sizzle reel totaling three minutes shows its inherent shallowness when expanded to nearly two hours.

The movie contains the same dry humor that infused the John Wick films. Although the action is in earnest and generates a fair degree of tension during the most intense sequences, the film’s breezy tone is a tonic for those who don’t like to feel wrung-out after violent, edge-of-the-seat confrontations.

The bottom line: If you know what the Anti-Life Equation is, this movie was made for you and you might enjoy it. If that sounds like comic book gobbledygook to you, it’s safe to say you won’t be missing anything by not giving up four hours of your life to sit through this.

Dominic Cooke’s unadorned style and pacing work for the material and the result is a spy story worth telling and experiencing.

The film isn’t funny enough to warrant a recommendation and, although it doesn’t desecrate the less-than-sacred image of the earlier film, it proves itself to be superfluous. However, Coming 2 America will disappoint only those who believed Murphy could do something amazing or hilarious with this dubious property.

Boogie is at times unpolished but it offers a compelling and sympathetic portrayal of the title character and avoids excessive melodrama or a too-facile ending.

The problem with The Affair is that once the World War II segments have ended, the movie loses its momentum and ability to balance both sides of the romance.

Raya and the Last Dragon should entertain children but adults may fidget from time-to-time and the overall impression is of something that, like many middling Disney titles, will quickly be forgotten.

It’s not enough merely to tell stories about different aspects of how drugs impact society – the connections have to be stronger and the narratives have to go deeper that what Jarecki has provided here. Crisis is well-meaning but ultimately unsatisfying.

There are times when the Russos almost get us there but they can’t quite make it. As a result, Cherry comes across as ambitious but not entirely successful. The directors deserve credit for weaving together so many contemporary issues into a single, digestible story but there’s too much material here to do consistently well in a 2 ½-hour movie.

The Father is an excellent movie but it’s not a lot of fun to watch, especially for those with first-hand experience in this area.

Land is both a tribute to the triumph of the human spirit and an examination of the difficulties of setting aside modern conveniences for primitive survival. It also represents an announcement by Wright that her first feature foray behind the camera is unlikely to be her last.

Romantic comedies can be like road trip movies in that the journey is often more enjoyable than the inevitable destination. It helps the fantasy when the actors relate to each other in a pleasant, believable fashion. In this case, Kyle Allen and Kathryn Newton interact with sufficient amity to hold our interest, although Newton shines more brightly than Allen.

Although King’s film may not accomplish everything it sets out to do, it represents an important perspective of a time period whose essential injustices have gained renewed attention some 50 years later.

The writer/director tries hard to make Minari what it is – a collage of remembrances seen through the eyes of a child then filtered through the perceptions of the fortysomething man he became. It’s a rewarding but not overpowering experience.

With its blend of existential science fiction and character-based romance, it would seem to be as close to a can’t-miss premise as one can imagine yet, despite that, it somehow does miss – and by a wide margin.

Produced during the pandemic and available on Netflix, the movie is well worth a look both as an exploration of love’s bitter aftermath and as an example of how art can bloom even in the most challenging circumstances.

The Dissident is a solid recap of Jamal Khashoggi’s demise, but it left me wanting more than Fogel is able to provide, even though he hints at an issue of vastly greater importance than the death of one dissident.

As a character study, The Little Things works. As a thriller, it’s a mixed bag and individual preferences will determine whether to classify the resolution as exhilarating or annoying.

The Dig feels like a condensed version of a story that, given more time to breathe, might have been fascinating and emotionally effective.

Although not a word of what Powers wrote is based on reality (at least insofar as the dialogue is concerned – and this movie is all about the dialogue), it’s nevertheless a fascinating exploration of the kinds of things these four individuals might have discussed.

The movie isn’t for those who crave light, uplifting entertainment. Instead, it’s for those who want a precise, visceral experience from a motion picture.

While Let Them All Talk doesn’t seem substantial enough to capture the attention of those who dole out awards at this time of the year, it’s not without interesting characters, smart dialogue, and some intriguing ideas about love, life, and art. And, as with almost everything directed by Soderbergh, there’s a compulsive watchability to the proceedings.

The material itself is unremarkable and the execution is mediocre. It stands out as often for missteps as for elements that are memorable.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is a small film with big ideas, bigger speeches, and two towering performances.

As disaster movies go, Greenland is neither exceptionally good nor exceptionally bad.

The hiccups resulting from the back-and-forth switches between two disconnected stories are no more than a minor irritant when one considers the wider scope. In making this film, Clooney has accomplished something rare and unusual in today’s cinema – an epic science fiction motion picture that focuses on characters and ideas.

Seen exclusively through a narrative lens, there’s nothing special about News of the World. However, this is one of those movies in which the simple story is enriched by the elements that coalesce before, during, and after the production.

Is it a dark comedy with thriller overtones? Is it a serious message movie presented tongue-in-cheek? Is it an exploitative revenge film that uses a flippant style to undercut the darkness? In actuality, it’s a little of all of these and, although there are times when the movie’s approach seems scattershot and some of the tonal shifts can be jarring, the production as a whole feels rambunctious – a perfect concoction for the #meToo era.

Without becoming doctrinaire or espousing a particular religious ideology, Soul offers insight into the concept of death and the potential of an afterlife. It does this while maintaining a light tone and avoiding many of the obvious pitfalls that could accompany addressing such subject matter.

As much a tale of the patriarchal suffocation of those who break from outdated conventions as it is a love story, the film gains much of its traction as a result of the performance of Kate Winslet, whose nonverbal acting represents one of the finest portrayals of her career.

The way Levine has structured Black Bear turns the possible interconnections between the stories into a puzzle for which there is no ironclad solution. That’s part of the fun – speculating what it all means. For those who prefer a more passive experience, Black Bear offers a dollop of frustration but, for those willing to brush aside the web-like strands entwining the first story with the second, it’s an engaging double-feature.

Mank may be Fincher’s most technically challenging production to-date but it suffers from what some might consider to be the director’s Achilles heel: his laser-focus on perfection results in a tepid emotional temperature. It’s hard to feel much of anything for (or about) any of the characters, even the title one.

Moody, introspective, and meditative, Nomadland makes up for its meandering, sometimes maddeningly slow pace with its insights about human nature and its incisive portrait of indomitability.

Sound of Metal tells a story about coping and overcoming while avoiding the narrative pitfall of artifice.

In trying to blend a Twilight Zone-ish mystery with a more conventional approach to sorrow and death, Miele crafts a story that is too artificial to work.

Wonder Woman 1984 is overlong, tonally inconsistent, and poorly paced. Although it raises the bar during its final hour, the viewer has to navigate about 90 minutes of action-deficient, sometimes nonsensical narrative to get to the point where the title character (again played to perfection by Gal Gadot) does something other than moon over her lost love, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine).

Kids will enjoy it and parents will be sufficiently diverted that they won’t be tempted to take a nap. It’s disposable entertainment but the receptacle in question doesn’t have to be a garbage disposal.

Here’s a rare example of a Netflix prestige film that neither runs too long nor overstays its welcome. While some of the A-list directors working for the streaming distributor have taken the opportunity to meander and add bloat to otherwise worthwhile projects, Ron Howard has developed this project exactly as he would have made it if it had been intended for a traditional release.

While the legal stuff provides the film’s crowd-pleasing element, some of the foundational building blocks give The Last Vermeer a little heft, elevating it to a level where one is almost tempted to call it a quasi-art house production.

Although mysteries remain, the film uncovers enough to re-enforce the maxim that fame and stardom can exacerbate rather than cure some ills of the soul.

The Nest is an autopsy of the disintegration of the middle-class dream and its impact on those for whom it becomes a nightmare. It’s a rumination about the fragility of happiness. It’s a modern-day horror film with a spooky mansion, a body that refuses to stay buried, and demons that haunt not the benighted halls of the house but the unsettled corridors of the psyche.

Some of the more serious (and non-homicidal) scenes recall "Prelude to a Kiss" (a gender-swapping movie in which Meg Ryan switches bodies with an old man).

Most of their jokes miss the mark and the movie gets lost in action/thriller territory that’s anything but thrilling.

Casting turns out to be the best thing Bezucha could have done for this uneven screenplay. The pair makes Let Him Go worthwhile even when the storyline is poised to let us down.

After teasing the viewer with the possibility that this movie might be interested in doing more than offering jump-scares, claustrophobic point-of-view shots, and child-in-peril scenes, Come Play proceeds to provide those all-too-familiar sequences and more. Worse, because the lead character is autistic, it doubles down on the issues that can arise from communication difficulties.

The sequel often plays like pro-Biden campaign propaganda. This film isn’t going to be warmly embraced by many Republicans. Sacha Baron Cohen doesn’t simply skewer them; he spit-roasts them over a roaring fire.

It’s the same basic story recycled with slightly better special effects and a different cast. As lukewarm as I was toward the Roeg version, I was open to the possibility that Zemeckis could improve upon it – something he proved unable to do.

There’s nothing in this version of Rebecca to cause it to stand out from its crowded field of predecessors but, due to the strength of the novel (to which it is reasonably faithful), it holds the viewer’s interest and will likely maintain an aura of suspense and mystery for those unfamiliar with the story.

The screenplay is so incredibly dumb that it’s never possible to suspend one’s disbelief sufficiently for the movie’s high points to offer more than a fleeting moment’s satisfaction.

Although The Trial of the Chicago 7 has a serious message, it finds room for moments of (dark) comedy and (gallows) humor.

First-time feature writer/director Zu Quirke does a good job setting things up and sticking the landing, but her approach to the horror elements is generic at best.

Blank uses humor to make her points and they are all-the-more memorable as a result.

Chock-full of unfunny humor, bland characters with nonsensical motivations, and tedious subplots, the entire endeavor might have been shelved if not for the participation of De Niro, Uma Thurman, Cheech Marin, Jane Seymour, and Christopher Walken. A cast like that doesn’t get swept under the rug or sent direct-to-video.

With A Rainy Day in New York, Allen is spinning his wheels – revisiting familiar themes and ideas from other, earlier films that were presented to far better effect the first time around.

Even at the attractive price of “free,” it’s not worth it because watching it requires 97 minutes and that’s not time well spent.

All of Alpert’s hits are present and accounted for and there are also a few lesser-known tracks.

Brandon has apparently inherited a great deal from his father both in terms of his filmmaking techniques and his taste in material. As science fiction, Possessor is a little disappointing – it does too little with a pregnant premise crying out for deeper inspection. As horror, however, it’s a rousing success – a shocking and disturbing gem that doesn’t betray itself by softening things during the final act.

As the title character, Millie Bobbie Brown shines in a way she hasn’t in her non-"Stranger Things" appearances.

The film’s characters are as recognizably human as they are oddballs and the narrative arc could be loosely described as a coming-of-age story for a thirtysomething woman who exists in a state of extreme arrested development.

The period detail is impeccable and The Devil All the Time gets high marks for its establishment of time and place.

Other films have told similar stories with greater power. Director William Olsson appears unwilling to fully commit to the darkness that a movie of this sort would need to embrace to be both ephemerally disturbing (which it is) and memorable (which it isn’t).

In short, although Blackbird is effective as a buzz-kill and features a few nicely choreographed scenes, too little about the film feels like real life and who wants a fantasy film that’s such a relentless downer?

The movie never loses sight of its twin objectives: maintain suspense and emphasize a message about the enduring, pernicious power of racism.

The Broken Hearts Gallery meanders through its fantasy island version of New York City with meet-cutes and complications-with-exes until it reaches the inevitable climax.

Kaufman once again reminds us that, without a Jonze or a Gondry to shape and prune the writer’s constructs, we’re destined to become stuck in a frustrating morass of eccentricity and self-indulgence.

By mixing slapstick humor, outright silliness, and a psychedelic edge, Doff trades tension for laughs. He also has a political point to make about class divisions and the haves-and-have-nots.

This isn’t a good movie in the conventional sense of the word but it may hit the sweet spot for those who have declared their affection for the slacker musicians originated by Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter more than 30 years ago.

This more lenient attitude toward the original 1998 film has allowed director Niki Caro to be less reverent in her approach. The result is satisfyingly fresh. 2020’s Mulan follows the same general trajectory as its predecessor but numerous changes – some small, some large – have given it a unique identity.

The film contains some of Nolan’s most ambitious action sequences to-date but one wonders whether the plot density – a not inconsiderable obstacle for some who prefer not to devote their undivided attention for 2 ½ hours – might prove to be problematic.

By taking a different road, Iannucci has provided something that captures the essence of David Copperfield without being constrained by every detail.

It’s an arthouse production made with arthouse audiences in mind but I found it to be a more compelling experience than the equally “important” (but entirely too safe) "Radioactive," which played in the same general historical era with less zest.

Although it would be fair to say there are “feel good” moments in the movie, the film as a whole seeks to dig a little deeper. It’s not as effective as the effervescently witty "500 Days of Summer," but there are times when it strives for a similar sensibility.

Underwritten yet nevertheless enjoyable.

Most of the movie involves Rogen interacting with Rogen and this is problematic on a number of levels. First, neither version of Rogen has a good feel for the shifting tone of the movie. Secondly, without another human to play off, Rogen is frequently stiff. Or, to put it another way, he has zero chemistry with himself.

With an abrupt and unwelcome shift in tone and a surprisingly ordinary resolution, The Burnt Orange Heresy falls short of its Hitchcockian aspirations.

Howard is an affectionate but unremarkable biography of Ashman that uses archived clips and new interviews to present an overview of the man’s life with a special attention on his later years.

In the end, however, it’s all a rather hollow experience (as is too often the case with existential horror).

For what it is, Summerland is solidly made, but don’t expect anything extraordinary from the production.

Although it does an adequate job of illustrating the reasons why history remembers Curie, it feels more like a Victorian/Edwardian era soap opera than the chronicle of a scientific pioneer.

Hanks’ script is an example of economical storytelling and the end result is a thrilling 75 minutes of the kinds of things one expects from well-made submarine movies.

While Palm Springs doesn’t stray too far from the idea introduced by "Groundhog Day," it’s the first derivative film to be more deserving of a commendation than derision. Or, to put another way, it feels more like an homage than a rip-off.

The Old Guard blends the intelligence of a well-written dramatic sci-fi/fantasy tale with the action/adventure of a big budget motion picture.

The Beach House is a middling horror film with aspirations of recalling The Fog or The Mist but lacking the screenplay to come close to either.

It’s no surprise that this is one of the best films of the year (and would have retained that distinction in any year it was released, not just this one).

For those who appreciate the genre, this is a better-than-average merging of technical craftsmanship, narrative coherence, and competent acting.

The Truth is layered and offers a treat for those who savor acting on the highest level, but it is a step down from his best films and may hold its strongest appeal for those who label themselves cineastes and art house movie-lovers.

Wages of Fear is the kind of motion picture for which commonplace phrases like "white-knuckle tension ride" have been coined.

A high-concept, low-brow romantic comedy that overstays its welcome by at least a half-hour and can’t decide whether it wants to buy into or satirize the incomprehensibly popular European singing contest.

This isn’t a hard-edged or particularly nasty film. Its political satire is even-keeled, attacking the system as an entity rather than either party in particular.

The movie does an effective job with all the expected horror movie tropes – things that go bump in the night, shadows that don’t move the way they should, images in mirrors, etc. – but the basic narrative loses its way around the time that Amanda Seyfried is sent packing.

Unfortunately, following a key narrative inflection point, the suspense starts to leak out like the air from a slightly punctured balloon as the screenplay stumbles through minefield of hostage movie clichés on its way to a predictable and moderately unsatisfying conclusion.

Is Lee preaching to the choir? Perhaps but those not already in the fold who give the film a chance may discover that the things Lee is saying are hard to disagree with regardless of your race, creed, or color.

Although the problem lies primarily in the difficulties associated with condensing an epic tale into a short-ish movie, the lack of elegance with which that is accomplished makes Artemis Fowl a failure for anyone hoping for the next great fantasy film.

Simultaneously funny and touching with elements of pathos to go along with the raunchiness. However, The King of Staten Island runs too long and, as result, it loses steam while chugging toward the ending.

Put this one squarely in the “guilty pleasure” category. And keep in mind that if you can’t be entertained by a thirteen-year old girl ruthlessly dispatching evil-doers in ways that will make a horror film fans tingle with glee, this may not be your cup of tea.

Although the narrative trajectory may be familiar, the specific path taken by director Andrew Patterson feels fresh.

Playing the love interest, Kelvin Harrison Jr. does as much as he can with an underwritten character. Ice Cube, as is increasingly the case for the veteran musician-turned-actor, steals every scene in which he appears.

The Lovebirds stands out as a worthy opportunity for home entertainment.

Despite a few effective “gotcha!” moments and Pegg’s performance, the movie is too artificial and undercooked to work. Logic and consistency are often overlooked qualities in today’s cinema but when they’re ignored to this degree, their absence is noticed.

There are some jokes no one under 10 will get (a few of which are pretty funny) to go along with the visual diarrhea that clutters the screen with needless “action” sequences. The resolution to the emotional component of the climax feels like an unearned cheat, but I suppose it’s okay when one considers it will probably work for children.

Everything about director Rachel Lee Goldenberg’s film is bright, garish, and peppy. Although watchable as a sort of mindless flashback, it doesn’t work as a movie.

Those who enjoy gritty, angry Westerns (especially those set in the Australian bush rather than along the American frontier) will find much here to their taste, none of which is in need of additional seasoning.

There’s a tiny problem, though: Clementine is neither erotic nor a thriller.

Without question, Extraction is the best action-oriented film released during the first third of 2020. One could argue that such a statement is damning with faint praise.

Robert the Bruce is too long by at least a half-hour for the surprisingly slight tale it has to tell.

For roughly the first two-thirds of its 109-minute running length, To the Stars is an effecting and effective tale of female bonding. Unfortunately, the wheels come off toward the end as melodramatic contrivances result in an unlikely climax and unsatisfying denouement.

It’s closer to horror than the usual lightweight fare one finds in the genre.

One note portrayals, skin deep characters, and a glacial pace all combine to prevent The Quarry from succeeding either as a slow-burn thriller or a message-oriented drama.

We’ve seen this kind of thing before but it’s done with sufficient schmaltz to work on its own terms. Damning with faint praise? You betcha, but that’s all I have.

The movie is handsomely mounted and consistently engaging. Yes, the story is familiar but part of the charm is seeing how key scenes have been re-envisioned by the filmmakers.

The film maintains a light tone and, although that creates a breezy, unforced approach, it also undercuts tension. (If they were trying to replicate the delicate balance achieved by Wes Craven in Scream, they haven’t completely succeeded.)

Trolls World Tour is better suited to watching at home than in a theater. It’s a shadow of its predecessor, a regurgitation of some of the elements that made the first one popular but without the sense of spontaneous fun.

The beating heart of Never Rarely Sometimes Always isn’t Autumn’s struggle with terminating her pregnancy; it’s the way the two girls discover companionship and the strength it offers.

Weaknesses in the movie’s final 15-20 minutes don’t detract from how enjoyable the rest of the film is with its over-the-top gore, wild misdirections, surprising twists, and unsubtle stereotype-based lampooning.

The movie demands a willing suspension of disbelief and, for those who can accommodate, it opens a portal into a hellish, allegorical nightmare about the placid myth of suburbia gone wrong.

The humor avoids becoming too outrageous. This is like an indie version of Olivia Wilde’s "Booksmart," which was filmed after Banana Split despite being released earlier. Both films offer complex perspectives of high school-oriented female friendships without demanding a happy ending for the happy ending.

Although there are some structural and pacing issues, the film as a whole works by doing David Lynch’s favorite trick: finding the rot underlying the seemingly placid exterior of small town America.

Bloodshot suffers from a world-building failure. With too little time and emphasis placed on crafting the setting and exploring some of the rich possibilities of the milieu in which events transpire, the movie turns into little more than a ho-hum Vin Diesel action film.

Spenser Confidential is a perfect Netflix movie – a mid-budget action/thriller featuring a recognizable star and not requiring much in the way of attention or dedication from a viewer.

Despite narrative issues, the film is overall affecting and effective with Ben Affleck’s powerful performance being a driving force.

It’s solidly entertaining, contains an element of emotional resonance, looks and sounds great, but isn’t special.

For all his passion to tell this story, Heckler doesn’t seem sure of the best way to conclude it.

Whannell fails to address how easily the power of invisibility can be foiled in today’s world where anyone can buy cheap (less than $200) infrared goggles for overnight delivery.

Watching 63 Up as a stand-alone endeavor may not seem remarkable. In fact, it may even be a little boring. But watching it as part of the larger picture imbues it with immediacy and power.

Harrison Ford gives as dignified a performance as he has managed in many years. And the cinematography (by veteran Janusz Kaminski) is glorious. But the tonal shifts threaten to cause whiplash and the “improvements” made to London’s book (presumably to make it more cinematic) undermine both the thematic and narrative integrity of the tale.

The chief problem with Seberg, as is often the case with biopics, is that the filmmakers never really find the character underlying the historical figure.

The biggest shock of this new movie re-imagination is that it makes the original seem fresh and smart by comparison. Perhaps that makes this whole endeavor nothing more than TV producer Aaron Spelling’s posthumous fantasy.

It’s a 99-minute commercial designed to drive sales of merchandise. Okay, it’s not as bad as "Super Mario Brothers," but that’s damning with faint praise.

Taken as a whole, the approach doesn’t work and ultimately comes across as more off-putting than successful.

The movie starts with a series of kaleidoscopic, high-energy scenes that prove to be Birds of Prey’s high point. Even in these early moments, there’s a sense that narrative isn’t going to be a big selling point for this movie and those misgivings prove to be correct.

Unevenly paced and with a miscast lead, the movie fails to get us to care about its automaton main character as she goes through the motions in a generic spy thriller.

Ritchie’s strengths as a filmmaker don’t include developing complex female personalities so Dockery’s Rosalind is more like a male fantasy caricature of a strong woman than an actual character.

So, for Bad Boys for Life, we avoid a trip into the lowest depths of hell in favor of a dead end.

Even the characters with the most screen time are (at best) slightly developed – there’s just enough humanity for us to be interested in whether they survive, although any emotional attachment is minimal.

The movie stands out as one of the year’s most memorable experiences.

It’s a big-screen cartoon and, although it may work for its target audience – video game-consuming pre-teen boys – other viewers may find the production to be lacking in anything beyond a little visual razzle-dazzle.

Jamie Foxx, compelled to take the role for personal reasons, turns in what could arguable be the best performance of a varied career. (Others might say that the distinction belongs to his work in Ray.)

Gerwig is trying for something a little different, juggling the time frame and creating a “meta” ending to make the story’s feminist themes overt and incorporate an ambiguous “twist” that some will see as clever and others may find heretical.

With Bombshell, thanks in large part to the contributions of his actors, Roach has crafted a compelling “ripped from the headlines” motion picture that unfolds like a page-turner. Unfortunately, with little room for nuance or detail, it lacks the depth necessary to make it more than a superficial dissection of what amounted to low-hanging fruit in the 2010s series of major headline sexual harassment revelations.

An individual’s appreciation of Cats may rest on a previous love of the stage play; others are more likely to throw up a hairball than purr in contentment.

The movie consists of a bunch of random events and, if you pause long enough to consider things like plot and motivation (something you’re not supposed to do), it becomes evident that most of the movie doesn’t make any sense. Add to that an anti-climactic ending, scattershot editing, and too many extraneous characters and the last Star Wars movie is the most bloated and least satisfying of all the main-line adventures.

The edgy, claustrophobic approach to filmmaking is there, as is the importance of setting. There’s never a clear sense of where the movie is headed and, when it gets there, it arrives with a bang.

By keeping the tone from becoming too somber and generating a degree of sympathy for Jewell, Eastwood has crafted an engaging (albeit fictionalized) account of the triumph of ordinary men over the establishment.

The Next Level feels a little too much like a money grab and, although moderately entertaining on a popcorn level, there’s a sense of missed opportunity.

At its best, this movie is searing. It pinpoints many of the little talked-about aspects of divorce that seem the least significant but hurt the most. It also eviscerates the practice of Family Law without apology.

Overall, this is a well-acted peek back in history to an era when scientific and engineering techniques currently taken for granted were in their pioneering stages, impelled forward by humanity’s insatiable desire to explore and conquer new vistas.

Frozen II is a worthy follow-up with enough heart, action, and music to entertain younger and older viewers alike.

It’s exceptional escapist entertainment for those who don’t mind a little spice sprinkled into their cozy mystery.

A celebration of Mr. Rogers and the healing capabilities of his words and doctrine, the movie may not be a splashy as many of the year-end multiplex stocking stuffers but the experience it offers tugs effectively at the heart strings.

Although arguably too long and arduous for theatrical viewing, it’s perfect for the more comfortable, relaxed confines of home viewing when the prospect of immersing oneself in a director’s creative vision for 3 ½ hours is less daunting. Whether seen on the big screen or a small one, The Irishman is among 2019’s best motion pictures and should receive its share of Oscar attention in 2020.

This is solid, middle-of-the-road entertainment. Slow patches aside, it finishes strong and, although it probably won’t win the box office race, it may generate some Oscar interest (because Bale is almost always good enough to warrant that sort of attention).

With Paul Feig in the director’s chair, this unapologetically sentimental film provides viewers with opportunities to laugh and cry while morphing into something a little different than what the trailers and marketing material suggest.

Doctor Sleep is more straightforward and narratively clean than "The Shining." Although too long by at least 20 minutes, it is more accessible and doesn’t overly penalize those who haven’t seen (or don’t remember) the original movie.

The problem with Waititi’s approach, not unlike those faced by Roberto Benigni 22 years ago when he made the divisive "Life Is Beautiful," is perfecting the tonal shifts. His difficulties in this area can create a whiplash effect that results in the overall production feeling a little “off.”

The film surprises with its narrative twists and turns, making the overall trajectory unexpected and the endpoint different from anything one might have expected at the beginning.

The story introduces interesting new wrinkles and the ending, when considered in the context of a trilogy, makes this movie feel less like an extraneous add-on than a part of a larger tale. There’s really nowhere else to take the franchise, however. With this sixth installment, it’s over.

By blending facts, myths, and made-up material, Lemons weaves a strong, engaging tale but, at least on some level, there’s a sense of a missed opportunity to do something grander.

It’s a strong performance of a character worthy of biopic treatment. Dolemite lives!

The Lighthouse is a riveting but decidedly non-mainstream horror film. Even if the ending is imperfect, I’d love to see more movies like this.

Any curiosity surrounding the film may have been misplaced – it’s a bit of a bore.

If you liked "Zombieland," you’ll probably like Zombieland: Double Tap, just not as much. It has some good laughs, although they don’t come as frequently. It has some clever moments, but not as many. And the character interaction is fun, at least most of the time.

Although the second installment is effective at moving the story forward rather than re-treading familiar ground, it enters a patch of quicksand from which it is unprepared to escape. Disney is adept at doing many things but offering a sobering and intelligent examination of genocide is not among them.

When it comes to waterborne movies, Wolfgang Petersen’s "The Perfect Storm" (not a horror film) is more terrifying than Mary.

Little of the film is new or innovative and, although director Ang Lee can boast some interesting choreography with one of the fight scenes (something involving the use of a motorcycle as a martial arts weapon), his inventiveness doesn’t extend to the tired storyline, which feels like recycled pulp material.

The Laundromat uses a format not unlike that of "The Big Short" (without Margot Robbie in a bubble bath) to shine the light on the kinds of activities uncovered by The Panama Papers.

This is a disturbing film, a journey into the heart of a damaged man’s psychosis. In many ways, it’s more of a horror film than an action/adventure offering. Even Nolan’s The Dark Knight, the crown jewel of the 21st century DC/Warner Brothers cinematic catalog, traced a more traditional comic book movie template than Joker. Within this genre, there has never been anything quite like it.

The Day Shall Come is an angry film – funny at times but with an acidic underpinning.

Although Judy doesn’t adhere rigorously to the chronology of the main character’s last months, it provides a compelling portrait of the tragic decline of one of America’s 20th century icons.

With its grim tone and sickening content, this gruesome gore-fest might have limited appeal for "Death Wish" lovers who wished Charles Bronson hadn’t been such a wimp.

Of recent films, Christopher Nolan’s "Interstellar" is the best comparison. Ad Astra isn’t quite as strong but it’s in the same ballpark.

Downton Abbey is for those who loved the TV series and were sorry to see it go, and there’s nothing wrong with a little fan service for Masterpiece Theater watchers in a day and age when every Marvel film wallows in it.

There’s something delicious about the way Hustlers delivers on its promise of glitz, sex, and raunchiness while delving far enough beneath the surface to subvert the genre.

Although Peter Straughan’s stripped-down regurgitation of the story is faithful to Tartt’s narrative in the broadest sense of the word, it lacks elegance and depth. A Dickensian coming-of-age tale, The Goldfinch is at times dull and pretentious and never earns its 2.5-hour running length as an example of either art or entertainment.

At times, the film tends toward meandering and self-indulgence.

Working with time travel is never an easy task and, when a filmmaker doesn’t take a rigorous, consistent approach, it can become a mess. Such is the case with Don’t Let Go.

To date, "The Insider" probably represents the most compelling whistleblower story to make it to the big screen and, although the subject matter is different, Official Secrets generates in the viewer the same sense of outrage.

Angel Has Fallen feels like it was cobbled together with cliched action scenes and circumstances overused by the once-popular TV series "24." Angel Has Fallen tries hard (and often succeeds) to topple the Kiefer Sutherland program on the “preposterousness” scale.

Ready or Not can be described as the fusion of dark comedy with the Grand Guignol. Unafraid to venture into cinematic taboo territory for its shocks and laughs, the movie doesn’t have many sacred cows. It’s the kind of thing we might have gotten if Monty Python had made a gothic-tinged horror movie.

Certain plot elements that made sense in the original are less logical in this one, especially when one considers the differences in bonds between mothers and children and fathers and children.

The film gets frequent laughs from its raunchiness but, underneath it all, there’s an emotionally resonant story of how children confront the demons of youth that guard the gates to adolescence.

Although Where’d You Go, Bernadette suffers from an ungainly structure and uneven pacing, the production as a whole is engaging and uplifting.

Blinded by the Light is a one-third Bruce Springsteen hagiography, one-third kitschy ‘80s recreation, and one-third feel-good father/son coming together. Surprisingly, however, it works.

Put The Angry Birds Movie 2 into the basket of sequels that no one was asking for.

The film’s depiction of cataplexy is a reasonable representation considering how it’s being used (sufferers may understandably disagree). It’s too bad that so many of the screenplay’s other elements – like its treatment of basic human emotions – are badly mishandled.

Three-fourths of a good horror movie and one-fourth disappointing. The film, constructed as a series of episodic vignettes connected by an umbrella story, remains solidly engaging until it gets to the ending.

The end result is something that feels like it should have been much better than it is.

Hobbs & Shaw is a “classic” summer movie in every sense. It uses Fast & Furious physics (as opposed to the Newtonian kind) to amp up the spectacle element while diminishing the excitement quotient.

The underlying idea is pregnant with promise but writer/director Shelagh McLeod, making her feature debut, is trapped by the time limitations of a film into cutting narrative corners and cheating to achieve an upbeat ending.

This is the director’s least violent feature film but it is in every meaningful way evident as a product of the man who made "Pulp Fiction."

Let me admit to loving the premise behind Supervized. The problem is that a movie needs more than a great premise – it needs to grow and nurture that idea, and that’s where Supervized falls short.

It’s probably strange to call a movie about illness and death a “feel good experience,” but Wang has pitched the film perfectly in this regard.

There are no humans in the film and their only participation was doing voiceover work. Of all the recent Disney recreations, that makes The Lion King the most curious.

Crawl is an old-fashioned B-grade monster movie made with 2019 technology. In short, that means plenty of gore and jump-scares to go along with creatures that no longer look like puppets or men in rubber suits.

Stuber is as bland and generic a mismatched buddy action-comedy as you’re likely to find.

It’s a rom-com where one of the participants is the self-described “last black man” and the other is a house.

While "Hereditary" crashed and burned in its final act, Midsommar stays afloat, although the movie is ultimately hampered by a too-long running length (147 minutes) and scenes that teeter perilously close to slipping over a cliff into self-parody.

Spider-Man: Far from Home works best when viewed as an epilogue to "Avengers: Endgame" (and, by extension, the entire MCU multi-film arc to this point) instead of a stand-alone adventure.

Although an intriguing way to deconstruct and reassemble a story familiar to most people who have taken high school English, Ophelia doesn’t live up to its promise perhaps because the lead character, even after having been “expanded,” is still rather flat.

Although the idea behind Yesterday was to craft a love-letter to The Beatles, the end result tastes a lot like a typical Richard Curtis rom-com with a generous helping of John-Paul-George-Ringo gravy.

I can’t say that Annabelle Comes Home, the third feature focused on the creepy girl doll, is the worst (because it has plenty of competition) but it’s easily among the dumbest.

Although Child’s Play is only 90 minutes long, it’s one of those movies where you check your watch so often you think it has stopped.

Even though Toy Story 4 sometimes feels like a regurgitation and retread of the earlier films, there’s something warm and comforting about spending 100 minutes in their company again.

Men in Black International is more than just an afterthought; it’s an unfortunate afterthought. Popular interest has long since evaporated and providing a new paint coat (courtesy of stars Chris Hemsworth and Tessa Thompson) can’t change that foundational fact.

No one steals scenes from Samuel L. Jackson when he’s in this mode. His entire modus operandi is to be the biggest, baddest motherf... (watch your mouth!) on the planet. Nevertheless, Regina Hall gives him a run for his money – something she does with a lot less screen time.

For romance junkies, the film checks all the boxes. For those who want a little more, it comes complete with a smart script, likeable leads, and a willingness to occasionally tweak a trope or two. My only complaint about Plus One is that the ending feels a little rushed.

This isn’t Jarmusch at his best but it’s more accessible than some of his films and doesn’t demand more from an audience than to sit back and be amused.

Although not “bad” in a conventional sense, it’s a disappointingly mediocre effort that doesn’t have a lot to offer potential viewers over age 10. It’s a perfect example of what can happen when a sequel exists simply because its predecessor made a lot of money.

Dark Phoenix is closer to the comic book story than the previous iteration, retaining many of the core elements. Unfortunately, it suffers from a massive condensation that not only mutes the film’s emotional impact but creates an erratic tone.

Domino is a lackluster, hard-to-swallow police procedural with soap opera-ish subplots and flat characters.

Many years ago, an acquaintance of mine said “Who needs good art when you’ve got great trash” and that applies here. Although I would stop short of calling this a “gem,” it is at times creepily effective, at least during its first three-fourths. As the film approaches its climax, it loses some of its uniqueness but there’s plenty to like about it before it starts to feel overly familiar.

Overall, however, Rocketman works because it isn’t constrained by the beats of a traditional bio-pic. Although the movie will be rightfully and enthusiastically embraced by the singer’s fans, it has something to offer those with no more than a casual recognition and appreciation of the man’s music.

There are too many gaps in the cross-generational/cross-gender appeal for the movie to emerge as one of the 2019 summer movie season’s big winners. Some will argue this is all set-up for next year’s Kong/Godzilla rematch. After watching King of the Monsters, however, I sadly find myself less excited about that outing.

When the end credits roll, it’s hard to decide whether the most appropriate feeling should be disgust, despair, or despondency. This is one of 2019’s worst films.

For a movie about magic, that’s one element sorely lacking in this retread.

Perhaps the best way to describe Booksmart, the assured directorial debut of actress Olivia Wilde, is John Hughes for the 21st century. Although Hughes never came close to the level of raunchiness on display here, when one peels back the layer of vulgarity and R-rated dialogue, the beating heart of an honest teen-oriented comedy can be found.

To work, The Professor demands that the viewer believe in Richard and, from about the 15-minute point, I didn’t.

"Before Sunrise" is a great movie. The Sun is also a Star isn’t. It’s not horrible and it may please its target audience but it misses an opportunity to have a deeper and less surgically-targeted impact than what it achieves.

The John Wick series, now on cruise control for its third installment, has fallen into a trap. The filmmakers have become so intent on delivering “more of the same” that they have lost all sense of proportion.

More like the dramatization of an Encyclopedia Britannica entry than a fully rendered movie, Tolkien provides details about the fantasy author’s life and tries to explore his motivations and influences but loses sight of the character in the process.

Pokemon: Detective Pikachu isn’t a movie. It’s a cog in a multibillion-dollar media empire, a soulless feature-length example of product placement at its most blatant.

Unfortunately, while director AJ Jankel (Super Mario Bros – yes, she’s the one responsible for that) captures aspects of the hostility toward lesbian relationships in that earlier era, she does it without nuance. Her framing of characters is black-and-white and the far-too-pat ending offers an unearned resolution.

Ask Dr. Ruth takes the caricature of the middle-aged, diminutive sex therapist and, through the use of documentary techniques, expands and deepens the viewer’s understanding of the woman behind the image.

The only thing of interest is the zany, over-the-top and against-type performance by Dennis Quaid, who shows what happens when “ruggedly handsome” gets an infusion of a diabolical Dirty Harry.

Long Shot, a production that’s as much a fantasy in the political realm as in the romantic one, is a pleasant trifle that leaves behind a warm fuzzy feeling, which is all one can realistically ask of movie of this sort.

Unfortunately, Kelly’s reach exceeds his grasp and the movie’s thematic content comes across as muddled and superficial.

Avengers: Endgame isn’t as brash, surprising, or relentless as its predecessor but it’s a worthy conclusion to the Infinity War duology and provides a satisfying end to the First Avengers Era.

Enough conspiracies and secret codes to make Dan Brown sit up and take notice. All this and more can be found in David Robert Mitchell’s bizarre, trippy Under the Silver Lake, where the plot at times seems as perpetually stoned as Andrew Garfield’s lead character.

When the movie goes “boo!” and the viewer tries hard to stifle a yawn, something has gone wrong.

Somewhere buried in the structurally unsound and unevenly paced Red Joan, there exists the material for not only one but two intriguing motion pictures. Unfortunately, neither manages to struggle to the surface and we’re left with a mediocre mash-up of an old-fashioned spy movie and the story of a son coping with the sins of his mother.

The humor is typically sitcom-ish, tending more toward sophomoric gags than genuinely funny material.

There are no real characters in Mary Magdalene – only icons. Actress Rooney Mara does what she can with the role but she isn’t helped by a one-dimensional script whose sole purpose seems to be to turn Mary into a first century feminist crusader.

The movie is a pointless retread with nothing to recommend it beyond McShane’s commanding presence.

The synergy between the root cause of the peoples’ unrest and some of what we see today will not be lost on many viewers; it gives Peterloo a sense of immediacy that some history-based films don’t have. I learned things while sitting in the audience and that’s a claim I rarely make about any motion picture circa 2019.

This is what serious horror is like and it’s not for everyone.

My sense is that, while The Best of Enemies may be met by stinging criticism from the far left and far right (for different reasons), those with centrist leanings will appreciate it for what it is (as opposed to for what it isn’t).

In Shazam!, the positives outweigh the negatives. The film’s fresh aspects are strong enough to keep the stale ones at bay.

If ever there was a production that embodies all the negative Masterpiece Theater qualities, this is it.

Although nowhere near as lush, artistic, and downright entertaining as the Warren Beatty/Faye Dunaway interpretation, The Highwaymen hews closer to the historical facts (with the climactic ambush being filmed on-location where it happened).

Although it’s being marketed as a love story, The Aftermath is more about grief and recovery than romance. In fact, the film’s illicit relationship is a cold, passionless affair that generates as much heat as a dying ember in a snowstorm.

An unconventional tale of redemption that earns its upbeat ending by not falling prey to every cliché of the genre or giving in to the temptation to become too maudlin or sentimental.

It’s made with families in mind – the material will resonate with children and parents (thankfully) will be sufficiently engaged not to wish to be elsewhere. Unaccompanied adults, however, may not be quite as enchanted.

There’s something enormously refreshing about the openness and honesty found in Keith Behrman’s coming-of-age film, Giant Little Ones.

If there’s one thing that saves Us, it’s that, even as the movie descends into a narrative morass from which it never escapes, there are many individual scenes that, taken in isolation, pack a punch. The problem is that, once assembled into the larger whole, it doesn’t all work.

The Hummingbird Project is too slow and confused to work as a thriller, a drama, or something in between.

An unconventional heist film in which a majority of the action occurs after the loot has been liberated, Triple Frontier features impeccable photography, strong acting, and well-staged action scenes that ooze tension.

Captive State is a messy, incomplete affair. Attempts to assemble it into a workable package in the editing room didn’t work, so we’re left with a weird cross between "District 9" and "The Battle of Algiers" that doesn’t do either of those apparent inspirations justice.

Five Feet Apart’s final half-hour is disappointing and frustrating – and it has nothing to do with the eventual fates of the characters or their romance. What’s bothersome is that, after spending nearly 90 minutes of meticulously developing a sensitive, honest relationship between two ships passing in the night, the movie takes a turn into the ridiculous.

Older viewers are more likely to appreciate the film’s intentions than fully embrace the story and its characters. Kids, on the other hand, will probably enjoy the frenetic action sequences; plucky heroine; cute, talking animals; and colorful visual representations.

By incorporating a strong Jamaican flavor and infusing the mix with reggae and dance, Elba provides something more interesting than the standard tale of gang warfare and drug deals that forms Yardie’s skeleton. However, although these unique elements form an effective distraction, their ability to captivate wears thin, exposing the threadbare, overfamiliar story that struggles mightily to keep viewers engaged.

An intriguing blend of globetrotting neo-noir and road trip plot elements, The Wedding Guest often seems on the cusp of greatness without ever getting there. The film classifies more as a disappointment than a success because, despite its little triumphs, it fritters away too many opportunities and suffers through a turgid middle act.

Captain Marvel, coming only a year after the fantastic "Black Panther," is a disappointment. The acting and special effects are solid but the writing, by co-directors Anna Boden & Ryan Fleck (elevated from the indie productions where they made their mark) with an assist from Geneva Robertson-Dworet, is lazy.

We don’t see many movies like Gloria Bell these days. Simple, adult character studies with major stars have become a rarity in today’s movie climate. Gloria Bell is sedate in its approach – it tells a story but the narrative is devoid of sensationalistic happenings and manipulative melodrama.

Saint Judy has a serious agenda and, in service of that, it eschews action scenes, thriller elements, and conventional contrivances. It tells a worthwhile story and provides a primer on aspects of immigration law without becoming didactic.

For the movie’s first half, director Neil Jordan does a reasonably good job of it. Then, unfortunately, he falls victim to the most dreaded of horror movie clichés: supposedly smart characters doing irredeemably dumb things.

Fighting with My Family is as likable as it is generic. Pugh’s performance is the best thing about the movie but the story, despite Merchant’s comedic flourishes, feels stale at times.

Although the How to Train Your Dragon series hasn’t been reduced to the harebrained level of a big-screen children’s cartoon, the latest chapter is the least sophisticated of the movies, emphasizing slapstick humor, one-dimensional characterization, and obvious messages.

Happy Death Day 2U is a passable way to throw away 100 minutes if you’re willing to turn off your brain and pretend it’s making sense.

Rodriquez nails the pacing – it’s slow enough to allow for character development (at least where Alita is concerned) but ramps up during the well-choreographed battle and chase sequences. Everything moves along fine…at least until the final few minutes when it becomes apparent that we’re about to be victimized by a story that requires multiple installments to play out.

Cold Pursuit has a strong current of dark humor winding through the proceedings. With a nod or two to Quentin Tarantino, he has fashioned a bizarrely entertaining ode to violence, gangsters, and heavy snowfall in the Rockies.

A moderately entertaining but overlong film that emphasizes visual razzle-dazzle over narrative backbone.

Watching Untogether, it’s easy to wish Forrest had elected to focus exclusively on Andrea and leave Tara as a background supporting character.

At least What Women Want could be identified as an enjoyable rom-com with a dose of female empowerment. One would have to be charitable to use “romantic”, “comedy”, or “enjoyable” for this new iteration.

The PG-13 rating is an indication of how much the material has been neutered. And, although the lead character’s arc remains troubled and conflicted, the ending makes her seem more like a superhero than the material warrants.

The story is pure exploitation but the style bespeaks a more artistic bent. The film can be enjoyed (to the degree it can be enjoyed) for its excesses, perverse humor, and excursions into blood, barbarism, and violence, but the narrative doesn’t make a lot of sense.

Superficiality is The Kid Who Would Be King’s greatest weakness. It skims along the surface, always taking the obvious path, never courting interesting possibilities, and trumpeting trite messages about friendship, truth, and belief in self.

Serenity is a peculiar, niche production with minimal mainstream appeal. It will find its greatest favor with those who value oddball movies that take chances (regardless of whether they work or don’t).

It’s disposable action entertainment – a throw-away title that’s not bad enough to turn off but not good enough to seek out.

The only reason Adult Life Skills is getting attention in 2019, nearly three years after it was finished, is because lead actress Jodie Whittaker is now bigger than big.

All These Small Moments offers a mix of honesty and artifice. Some of the scenes simmer with truth; others are too obviously the construct of a screenplay.

Glass, the third film in what has become a trilogy, comes across as a mix of half-formed ideas baked into an uneven casserole. Overlong, talky, filled with meta references, and with a strangely low-energy tone, the movie never fully gels.