Jordan Raup

While it doesn’t quite reach the height of laughter or thrills of Feig’s best work, Ghostbusters has a persistent dose of rollicking, scrappy fun that the ideal summer blockbuster should contain — all the way past the last credits.

To the Stars is quaint in its aims, but this compact focus brings an enveloping level of intimacy.

Never truly scary or side-splitting hilarious (aside from one of the single greatest visual jokes I’ve seen in a long while, involving a kindergarten class picture), Little Monsters can often feel toothless in its bite, ending up being a watchable, if watered-down zombie comedy.

Putting a modern, live-action spin on this fable-esque puppet tale, director Mirrah Foulkes crafts a vibrant, brutal directorial debut, even if the ultimate catharsis leaves something to be desired.

Rather than focusing on Lizzie as a figure out of a horror movie or creepy folk tale, she is portrayed as a woman who found liberty only through the death of her oppressors.

The adventure rides on the charisma of the ensemble, who milk the body-switching situation for all it is worth.

As the film progresses and a comedic rhythm clicks into place, L.A. Times blazes its own distinct, disenchanted trail of romance in the modern age.

Troop Zero drowns in its cloying aim to please at every moment. It doesn’t bring anything new to the table, but that wouldn’t be a problem if its familiar heart and humor landed in any memorable way.

Slathered in nostalgia for past moments in the franchise yet still introducing entirely new backstories, this humdrum antepenultimate adventure leaves one convinced those steering the series don’t have a firm grasp on where it’s heading.

by staying true to his offbeat brand of comedy, Martin has something compelling to say about moving on amidst — or perhaps because of — the humor of life.

This is the kind of comedy one imagines will only earn a few chuckles when it eventually arrives on a streaming platform.

Them That Follow has a compelling hook, but what’s left is nothing but an unfortunately wasted opportunity.

It’s a sharp script with distinct observations helping it rise above the plethora of other similarly-themed fare.

If Collet-Serra put Neeson on a merry-go-round and added some danger, I’d gladly show up.

The drama’s formal elements aren’t as compelling as the ideas it wrestles with, but it does make for one of James Franco‘s more accomplished and complicated performances.

Due to its relatively simple base pleasures, there’s a sense this madcap comedy will be dismissed for choosing nimbleness over pathos, but it is Coen and Cooke’s clear love for both B-movie tropes and the wonderfully game ensemble they’ve assembled that makes Drive-Away Dolls go down so easy. Even if one doesn’t fully connect with the attempts at humor, to see the film’s MacGuffin revealed––and precisely how it pertains to a certain supporting character––is ultimately worth the price of admission alone.

If The Pale Blue Eye dances around potentially intriguing ideas––the dehumanization of being in the military and who ultimately answers for the crimes carried out in the name of religion––it’s all window dressing for what is ultimately a murder mystery lacking momentum.

While Bay’s frantic approach is a double-edged sword, delivering pure entertainment from the get-go while lacking in any particularly ingenious set piece, it’s a refreshing proposition to see him return to the basics of action filmmaking.

Assassination Nation may hit buttons in the moment, but looking back, it fades away as an experience as ugly as it is unpleasant.

Despite a layer of derivative blandness with the formation of its characters and cribbing from sci-fi greats, there’s something downright invigorating about a film without loftier ambitions than providing slasher-in-space pulp.

By concurrently threading the needle of both the hereafter and emotional breakthroughs for our characters, it can make the plot schematics feel too tidy in their construction, but the journey in finding how these elements fit together is never less than engrossing.

The groundwork is laid for a rich playground of political intrigue and sci-fi thrills, but Captive State is continually hobbled by acting more like a mouthpiece for the state we are in rather than a memorable genre outing with characters we can root for.

The actual experience of watching this gonzo dystopian samurai western is far from the shock-a-minute journey that one would expect, but even in its more banal sequences, Sono’s imaginative eye peeks through.

This back-to-basics homage to disaster pictures of the 1970s has a modest charm, elevated by Harlin’s brisk direction, even if there is little that makes a lasting impression.

By lacking a sense of vision in embracing what came before and ignoring the recently laid path for where this story could go, The Rise of Skywalker is not only a disappointing end to this saga–it’s also an ill-fated harbinger for Disney’s future in storytelling.

Initially intrigues with its lo-fi sci-fi ambition but has too much on its mind without saying anything interesting at all.

Free State of Jones has a story worth telling, it just doesn’t know how to effectively do so.

While Red Sparrow ultimately doesn’t earn its all-consuming, grueling dourness, there are a few thrills to be had, and following the best performance of her career last fall, it’s certainly another fearless step forward for Jennifer Lawrence.