Kerry Lengel

At least it could have been fun-bad, not just boring-bad.

OK, maybe they cut a couple seconds out of that scene where Deadpool gets ripped in half, but the movie's sardonically gruesome sensibility remains intact.

Border brings to horror-fantasy the same Swedish sensibility that “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” brought to crime thrillers. Welcome to the land of eternal night.

Ortega wants us to see that allure, feel that lust. But to do it, he has to turn fact into fiction.

Firth remains in low gear throughout his character’s transition from fuzzy dreamer to desperate schemer to mad transcendental poet. It takes a bit of voiceover to get the job done, but Firth’s steadfast refusal to chew scenery turns out to be the key to his performance

It’s a bit of a letdown, though still entertaining.

With a filmography stuffed with masterpieces, the Coen brothers’ greatest trick is balancing the ironic commentary on cinema and storytelling with the dramatic impact of compelling human stories well told. And it’s a trick they pull off again and again.

While it is a perfectly serviceable placeholder in the larger series, its contributions to the Potterverse are disappointingly minor.

Fans of fancy period costumes and supernatural effects both get plenty to gawk at, but the story offers no real surprises, and that includes the big plot twist.

If it doesn’t have the family drama of “Walk the Line” or the psychodrama of “The Doors,” Bohemian Rhapsody does deliver what any music biopic must: convincing characters and some kick-butt simulated concert experiences.

Hill isn’t offering a sociological treatise. Mid90s is all about lived experience. It’s about a place and a time and offers little inkling of its characters’ futures.

Somewhat courageously, the film’s real focus is not on the obvious villains in this tale of two Americas, but on the absurd contradiction of its liberal hero watching a political apocalypse unfold on his iPhone.

More than anything, The Sisters Brothers is an exploration of how far you can take an anti-Western before it snaps out of the genre’s orbit entirely.

This brand of gonzo journalism was effective in Moore’s 1989 debut about Flint and General Motors, “Roger & Me,” but it has long since devolved into self-parody.

Purely from a standpoint of craft and storytelling, it’s a good flick, although maybe not well attuned to the bombastic times.

Like nine out of 10 faith-based films, it lets the message crowd out the other elements of good art: character development, thematic complexity, even basics such as a compelling conflict.

The acting is great, but screenwriter Matthew Orton’s attempts to give the film the philosophical heft that it deserve fall somewhat short.

It delivers plenty of exciting action with some CGI-assisted visual flair, from stampeding bison to a starkly beautiful image of a frozen lake with our hero flailing on the wrong side of the ice. Hughes’ efforts to bring emotional drama to the proceedings fall flat, however, relying on coming-of-age clichés that strip the story of any real surprise.

It’s formulaic. It’s predictable.

Journalists deserve to be heralded — just not in this holier-than-thou cinematic cri de coeur. So, on behalf of journalists everywhere, I have to tell Mr. Reiner thanks, but no thanks.

This gently humorous, fiercely honest indie film is a step forward in the quest for a move inclusive Hollywood, which seems to one of the themes of the cultural moment. Some may dismiss it as identity politics. But movies like this prove that it’s about broadening our scope and deepening our understanding.

There’s nothing self-serious about it. Blockers has all the brashness and irreverence that any comedy fan of the Apatow era could ask for, even as it represents a more gender-balanced future for Hollywood.

As a cinematic diatribe set in a stark moral universe, Goldstone comes in loud and clear.

It’s a lazy, thoroughly unoriginal bit of storytelling, but it has just enough cheeky humor and bass-thumping action scenes to be a potential crowd-pleaser.

It lays on the pathos, moralizing and forced whimsy thicker than figgy pudding, but it’s still entertaining, heart-warming family fare, thanks in large part to charmingly sincere performances.

Visually you can certainly call the film a breakthrough.

You might say the lack of a Hollywood narrative arc is both a strength and a weakness in this film, because Lipitz isn’t entirely clear about what story she is trying to tell.

The sequel is even more “all about Al,” but ironically, with any question of another electoral run put to rest, the results work better as cinema.