James Berardinelli

A Real Pain will resonate most strongly with movie-goers who don’t mind films in which conflict is internalized and where human interaction – simple, vivid, and unforced – takes center stage.

Here’s hoping the movie finds its audience because it’s one of the freshest and most audacious films available in this year’s sparse cinematic landscape.

It gets under the skin and into the mind and does what good psychological horror does best: leaves the viewer unsettled and perhaps a little shaken even after the end credits roll and the lights turn back on.

Although I found the change of pace to be refreshing for a Neeson outing, the movie is too flawed for a full recommendation.

In the end, I was more letdown by the movie’s inability to draw me in than impressed by its offbeat premise.

The movie is at its best when it feels like a Vatican riff on 12 Angry Men, a concept that is enough to keep things flowing smoothly until the frustratingly “Hollywood” events of the final 20 minutes.

As for Venom, the potential inherent in the creature has been wasted and squandered over the course of three movies and this final installment is the worst offender of all.

It’s a promising debut for Kenrick behind the camera and Zovatto is excellent in front of it but it’s hard to shake the incomplete feeling that accompanies a viewing.

Those yearning to make use of a small package of tissues may be willing to overlook the movie’s deficiencies but I can’t help but wonder whether a conventional telling of the same story might have been more effective in the long run.

The relentless pace, which flags only occasionally, and entrancing storytelling make this follow-up an even more satisfying experience than the one provided by the 2022 production.

What we have here is enjoyable, if somewhat scattershot, and at least as entertaining as what’s airing most Saturday nights at 11:30 pm.

A feature film adaptation of King’s best novel is deserving of something more epic than this throw-away production.

The Outrun avoids pretentiousness and the emotional stakes are so high that it doesn’t threaten to become boring.

Folie a Deux functions as an overlong, pretentious coda – a slog that barely advances the narrative while regurgitating elements from the first film.

Despite a terrific performance by Kate Winslet and some powerful moments during the film’s final third, Lee falls into the bio-pic trap of trying to encapsulate too much of a famous person’s life into a two-hour chunk.

The Wild Robot proves to be one of the best animated features to emerge from the American studios post-pandemic and even approaches Miyazki’s (alleged) swansong, The Boy and the Heron, in blending artistry with entertainment value.

Wolfs is a pleasant enough experience. At 108 minutes, it’s not too long and, putting aside the aggravating manner in which Watts ends the story, it goes down easily.

Even those approaching Megalopolis with an open mind and fully expecting to see an expensive and expansive art film may be disappointed by the result. The more I reflect on the movie, the more convinced I become that the things Coppola does well are dwarfed by missed opportunities and outright missteps.

Despite some minor issues in presenting and pursuing the time travel episodes, My Old Ass rarely missteps and that will likely earn it a place on my end-of-the-year Top 10.

This is off-the-beaten-path movie-making that calls attention to itself by how different it is from the cookie-cutter stuff playing next door while never losing the capacity to entertain those who enter this bizarre world.

The movie falls into the category of something a viewer is likely to stick with once sitting there but it lacks anything sufficiently unique or compelling that would make it worth seeking out.

Overall, although this version of Speak No Evil doesn’t leave as deep or lasting an impact as its predecessor, it represents another in the seemingly-endless Blumhouse stable of low-budget films to warrant a recommendation for those who appreciate the genre.

Although the movie disappoints late in the proceedings by pandering to cliches, few will be so bored as to leave before the curtain comes down.

After a few missteps and/or odd choices for the director (including Dumbo and Dark Shadows), Beetlejuice Beetlejuice puts Burton back in familiar territory and, surrounded by past collaborators and a sense of nostalgia, he thrives.

A problem with this movie, as is too-often the case with productions set within the confines of a space craft/capsule, is that the filmmakers don’t trust the inherent dangers and claustrophobia of the situation to be sufficiently suspenseful.

Ultimately, Strange Darling left me with a little “Emperor’s New Clothing” feeling, with all the excitement coming not from the actual story but from the manner in which it is presented.

Sanders, however, has taken a deep dive into the world of pretentious horror, where every killing has to be as stylized as it is gory. His characters have no humanity, his romance has no sizzle, and the whole thing turns into a slog where style overwhelms substance to such a degree that there’s too little left of the latter to matter.

Blink Twice is a deliciously nasty “refrigerator film” – a psychological thriller that holds viewers spellbound while in the theater (even if certain plot elements fall apart upon later reflection – say, for example, when getting a snack from the refrigerator later that night).