Lena Wilson

It’s a powerful, well-assembled watch, but curious viewers may feel prompted to seek out more details than this film is willing to offer.

A subdued score and some by-the-book camerawork can make this urgent story drag, but what it lacks in sting it makes up for with an original script (by Marcella Ochoa and Mario Miscione) and a ferociously pregnant protagonist who would make the “Fargo” character Marge Gunderson proud.

Despite some flat cinematography and borderline goofy special effects, The Manor gives us a distinctive 70-year-old woman as its protagonist and a twisty ending sure to polarize.

Though it features delightfully weird visuals and a stellar turn by Kathryn Hunter, The Front Room can’t find its identity, both on-screen and in its own marketing.

Body Parts has a lot to say about onscreen objectification, but it would benefit greatly if — like Quentin Tarantino’s camera on a young woman’s feet — it maintained its focus.

This well-choreographed hunt is chilling, sure — particularly because of de Wolf’s terrifying performance and unconventional choice of weapon — but it’s also a little bit fun.

While the result is a mostly-compelling tale of matriarchal megalomania, occasionally this group composition feels more like a jumble.

Werewolves Within darts between sharp visual gags, intricately choreographed scenes and a few standout performances, but its climax lands with a thud.

Andy Greskoviak’s script lampoons corporate apathy and retail-work ennui with the same swiftness as his voracious zombies. Unfortunately, Black Friday also tries to make viewers root for its characters, who are mostly delightful because they are such wildly mediocre people.

It’s a bizarre movie, but there’s enough action to help you zip through this overstuffed story even if you’re not sure why you (or Georgia, or Sam) are there in the first place.

First Match is a culturally significant, capably-crafted film, but it leans on safe familiarities when it should seek risky rewards.

Its scrappiness is what brings the charm à la the early work of Madeleine Olnek. Random attempts at depth detract from the final product rather than add to it.

The Invisible Man is inarguably well done, and this is one of Elisabeth Moss’s best performances, but this is the kind of subject matter you can’t short-shrift. This is life-altering, traumatizing stuff, but in privileging horror shocks over emotional reality, this film unmasks itself. It’s not as interested in abuse victims as it is cheap thrills.

This high-concept horror too easily crosses over from charmingly erratic to nonsensical.

If the performances were as wooden as the plot, “Imaginary Order” would be unwatchable ... Instead, McLendon-Covey’s lead turn and some savvy supporting performances (most notably Kate Alberts as her daughter) keep things compelling for the film’s overstretched 100-minute run time.

Maybe if the film had dwelled on its more off-color scenes instead of falling back on typical comedy fodder, it would be truly magnetic. Unfortunately, it’s more like a sloppy friend who, despite starting the night off full of joie de vivre, you now have to help stumble home.

The patients, experts, and tireless doctors and activists who director Tracy Droz Tragos (“Rich Hill,” “Abortion: Stories Women Tell”) interviews are dedicated and admirable, but this documentary’s humanity comes at the expense of basic facts.

Why Magic Mike’s Last Dance chooses to teach viewers about love, consent, and having it all, then, is a mystery. The Galentine’s Day crowd will probably be too drunk to notice.

As satires go, this one by the writer and director Quinn Shephard is hardly subtle — but though it lacks narrative finesse, Not Okay is brimming with provocative in-jokes for the extremely online.

Crowe’s acting is fine, but he hasn’t done himself any favors with his by-the-book direction or paltry script.

This is not your mother’s Disney Channel, and thank god. All of the “Zombies” movies are brimming with camp delights, as though the crew watched “But I’m a Cheerleader” while dropping acid. This is particularly true for Zombies 3.

Unfortunately, the script is too disjointed to keep its own complex characters afloat. Little is revealed as the plot bounces from one climax to another, making any eventual bloodshed feel exhausting and unearned.

Seance meanders for most of its running time, wavering between tones and styles. It’s both self-aware and overly serious. It tries to be a murder mystery, a slasher, a coming-of-age tale and a haunted house flick all at once.

“American Pachuo” is just a nice movie about a visionary guy. Entertaining and educational, to be sure, but so frictionless it barely sticks.

Though there are a few standout creations, the anthology is mostly muddled, privileging a heightened version of 2020 over a reality that was plenty scary on its own.

The Trip is occasionally fun, but other films have handled gleeful gore and psychological torture with a far more skillful touch.

If you’re not well-versed in bioengineering or food regulation, it’s a bit of a slog.

Despite its flaws, it goes down easy and guiltlessly, like cheap champagne.