Katie Walsh

This is a beautifully life-affirming fable about the power of art to heal, but really, it’s the people making the art that do the work. Ghostlight is a stunning and incredibly moving tribute to that process.

The film’s representation of how emotions and memories create a belief system and sense of self are indeed useful for talking to kids about how their inner lives and brains work, and the imagery is smart, but it has the feeling of an educational children’s book.

In her film debut, [Pankiw] delivers a full and fulfilling narrative arc that is anchored by a surprisingly complex performance from Sennott. Rooted in a specific sense of place, character and emotional truth. The movie is a rare indie gem worth discovering.

It’s a thin tapestry of lore with some interesting creative embellishments, but without any real interest in character, it feels flimsy and disposable. You could do worse, but you could certainly do better.

These filmmakers clearly have a knack for capturing nautical adventure and the delusional yet undeniably human desire to conquer the seas.

While there are pops of piquancy in Landon’s script, her direction and the performances (with the exception of Woodard) fail to inspire much more than a shrug. “Summer Camp” is only mildly interesting as another entry in the Keaton-verse.

Each character choice in “Ezra” is plausible because it comes from a place of emotional honesty, both in the script and the performances.

Though the film is formulaic and somewhat annoyingly energetic, it’s cute and irreverent enough, and manages to bridge the generation gap, offering up a kid-friendly flick that can keep adults somewhat entertained for the duration, proving that even after all these years, Garfield’s still got it.

This wild, vicarious ride through youthful adventure is absolutely worth taking, for your own nostalgia and for the reminder that the kids are indeed alright.

With its nonsensical, confounding story, it might not be for anyone, even if its heart is in the right place.

With a visual style that is straightforward and serviceable at best and a frustratingly limited emotional range, Back to Black never captures the beauty of Winehouse’s talent, the heartbreak of her performances or the horror of her tragedy.

There is beauty among the terror and an element of anxious unpredictability thrashing our characters like the waves that crash against the cliffs. But the deft spectacle would be nothing without the characters and performances.

Pine’s Poolman is sort of the physical, emotional and spiritual embodiment of Los Angeles itself: earnest, silly and a little (or a lot) ridiculous, but insistently charming if you decide to surrender to the experience.

It’s a humble story, one with the capacity to inspire in its simple message of perseverance. But the film itself, as an artistic product, feels limited in its observational scope, because the filmmaker doesn’t have any distance from the material.

There’s a glee in the Nazi killing and an exceptionally dry humor that is English through and through, but Ritchie strikes a tone that rides the line between self-serious and self-consciously humorous.

Abigail is at times a bit too flippant, over-the-top and even protracted in its ridiculous Grand Guignol of exploding “meat sacks,” but it’s very much in line with the unique Radio Silence sensibility, en vogue with audiences right now.

Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead is surprisingly authentic and fun for this kind of nostalgia-baiting remake material, which is naturally formulaic. It’s the focus on character and allowing the actors to shine that makes this one sing, and it should make a star out of Jones, who, like her character, manages to hold it all together.

Within "Housekeeping’s” restless, naturalistic aesthetic, Stolevski crafts complex and poignant images, contrasting the playacting the couple is forced to do with their searing gazes.

Patel’s passion project Monkey Man is a big swing, and a big swerve for the actor. Luckily, it connects, landing with a satisfyingly bone-crunching intensity. And if the movie is intended as Patel’s calling card, he leaves the whole damn deck on the table.

Condon is utterly captivating as a brutal villain, and no one plays a valiantly chagrined hero like Neeson, sorrowful and suffering. In the “Neeson skills” canon, In the Land of Saints and Sinners proves to be a gem, the performances elevating a enjoyably pulpy thriller.

There’s a harried energy to Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, which is enjoyable until it becomes tiresome and deafening. Perhaps multiplication was too much — here’s hoping subtraction is next in the mathematical equation.

Even this cast can’t save the rote machinations of Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire as it dutifully delivers morsels of memory.

It’s goopy, gross fun, if not entirely terrifying, and if there’s a weak link, it’s the screenplay, which toys with deeper social and sexual themes but skims along the surface and leaves loose ends untied.

If you’re a dog person, it will be impossible to resist the tale of Arthur and his knights of extreme sports.

The emotional resonance comes not from the dramatic wartime events, but rather from the long-term effects of Winton’s efforts many years later.

Much like Po himself, Kung Fu Panda 4 just wants to vibe out, riding the wave of previous successes. For little kids, it will be a fun diversion, but for anyone expecting the excellence of the previous films, this dumpling is a little too light on the filling.

Swank is appealing and amusing, decked out in fringe and affecting a twang, but it in no way feels real; it’s more of a fun character performance. Ritchson, on the other hand, demonstrates a softer, more expansive side to the tough guy persona he’s perfected on “Reacher.”

The slight and scanty Drive-Away Dolls could dissipate with a gust of wind, but it beats a hasty getaway before that becomes a problem. While its story fails to justify its own existence, it delivers what it says on the tin: dumb, randy fun, even if that feels retrograde in more ways than one.