Lex Briscuso

A story of a generational actor who realizes the price of the fame monster far too late in life, Jay Kelly is a smart, funny, and emotional ride that deftly interrogates what it means to be a human and an artist in equal measure – and the unfair sacrifices required to be great.

Bertino and Fanning make some wholly horrific magic together, and their diabolical efforts culminate in a wonderfully sinister parable that is nearly impossible to forget.

V/H/S Halloween is a terrifyingly worthy addition to the ranks, excitedly and expertly bringing gorgeously gory and gratuitous fun to fans who love that stuff the most — and god are we grateful for it.

A Real Pain is a hilarious and tender drama that shows us that truly living is the only way to honor those we've lost.

The new documentary is a colorful force of nature underscored by the fierce soundtrack of life, embodying the best parts of its subject in the name of nostalgic exploration. After all, music can tell beautiful stories, and this journey is no exception.

Sure, it’s an exaggerated and somewhat obvious film, but that doesn’t make director Coralie Fargeat’s point any less true – nor does it detract from the tremendously gory way in which she makes it.

Lorcan Finnegan’s smart survival thriller The Surfer sets a brutal, sun-soaked stage for star Nicolas Cage to do what he does best: go completely nuts.

Baker cuts straight to the feeling – and because of his fearless filmmaking, this career-best film, in all its crushing and chaotic glory, demands to be felt.

It’s hard to overstate how immaculately crafted Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is, both as a prequel to Max Max: Fury Road and as a stand-alone story of how the Wasteland created a powerful character.

The film is utterly singular to American design—as is the policing system in question—and a masterclass in effective documentary work that exists solely to deliver an impalpable truth.

It’s an interesting enough premise, even if you divorce the film from its comic book origins, but bland direction and awkward dialogue overtake the film and add a sheen of mediocrity to the entire thing.

Ree’s magnificent documentary takes its audience not only through the tragic elements of Mats’ life—the diagnosis of his illness, his decline, his untimely death—but the good parts, too, through effective testimony and powerful archival images, audio and video.

Veni Vidi Vici is like a piercing scream into the void, daring you to truly process what it’s telling you for fear you might fall victim to its apathy next.

It’s a bit muddled in execution, but despite its faults, the film is visually ambitious with things to say hidden under the surface.

In Gutierrez’s vivid and moving film, Kahlo is in no less than full, glorious view.

The film is an emotional rollercoaster bursting full of dynamic tensions, mind-bending twists and shattering truths. It’s the perfect combination of high marital drama and science fiction thinkpiece, and with the lengths the film goes to, Foe is a worthy addition to the emotional sci-fi canon.

Richland is a unique and heart-wrenching portrait of a town willingly taken advantage of and is a necessary documentary in an age of nuclear unease.

Cold Copy is a tense journalism drama that ultimately can’t be saved by a group of strong leads who are running lengths with the material they’ve been given. Helberg’s directorial eye proves to be something to watch, but the story she tells falls flat in the wake of uninspired character motivations that ultimately don’t make much sense in light of the stakes at hand.

May December is an intricate patchwork quilt of melodrama and stark reality woven into one big blanket of suppression.

Asteroid City is a top-tier Wes Anderson original that brings back the carefree fun and charm of some of his best works while also turning his own personal conventions on their ear in an attempt to try new things.

The film, with its pulsating score and club-scape visuals, is only interested in showing its audience the truth about situations like the one that unfolds throughout the story — and Molly Manning Walker's first film feels like an expert, surefire debut as a result of the skill with which she (and the brilliant collaborators she surrounds herself with on and off-camera) elicits every subtle gut punch the movie has to offer. 

Overall, the film is on point with its incredibly smart casting, and that victory aids in fully shaping the world Price Williams and Pinkerton concocted in their zany witch's cauldron.

The live-action “Little Mermaid” is a fresh take on a beloved classic that isn’t afraid to take a fairy tale and make it as real as it can, inviting its audience to dive into uncharted waters alongside its engaging and charming central characters.

Glazer's first feature film in ten years is a sick, bleak, and absolutely vital reimagining of the Holocaust drama, one that finds a new way — and possibly a more effective way — to put an important spotlight on the face of atrocities.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a fast, fierce, and unapologetic gut punch that centers the horrific abuse suffered by the Osage nation at the hands of those who were entitled to nothing and thought themselves worthy of everything.

All in all, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is an action-packed, high-octane super soaker of a film, while at the same time amounting to a beautiful final conquest and farewell to the world's most famous adventurer.

Short of dropping onto the Rainbow Road ourselves there is no experience closer to being fully immersed in one of the world’s most beloved video games. Pair that with some great comedic moments and swoon-worthy visuals and it looks like The Super Mario Bros. Movie might just make a real mark on the feature animation world.

This is such a bold and genuine movie, one that highlights the concepts of found family, maternal connections and doing what makes you happy alongside all of its unrestrained and risque fun.

All in all, the movie is a complete blast, one that will satisfy hardcore fans of the franchise, new folks joining the fun for the first time, and those who are looking for the series to start turning in new directions.

This film is intentionally exhausting because it wants you to feel the way Sissy feels as the special concludes: chewed up, spit out, used, abused, martyred for something you thought could love you back.

The stakes aren't very high in this film, and there are a few cardinal cinema sins at work here, but overall, Your Place Or Mine ends up being a decent time by coasting on its merits. When it's strong, it's pretty strong—and when it's not, it shows.

The Outwaters is an immersive hellmouth waiting to, quite literally, swallow us up and spit us back out into the landscape more horrified of what the universe is capable of than ever before — and trust me, you don't stand a chance against what it has in store for you.

Alice Darling successfully lays bare the realities emotional and verbal abuse has on victims, while also highlighting how the smallest shows of support can be exactly what victims need to change their circumstances.

Nothing short of a true-life triumph, All The Beauty and the Bloodshed is all at once the most important film about addicts, outcasts, and what makes each one—no matter their "sin" or the stigma—family. There is an understanding at the core of this documentary, one that says to the addicts and the ostracized alike, "I see you. I know you. I will not turn my back on you." The message is welcomed; In fact, it sounds like a new hymn.

My Policeman is a pretty flat adaptation as far as adaptations go, and despite some great elements in the film overall, Grandage's theatrical flair and passion doesn't show up anywhere in this movie, giving the picture an almost cookie-cutter feel to it in a way that comes off as strangely commercial.

For what it is, Fall is an excellent white-knuckle affair of the highest order, and it succeeds in what it sets out to do: Keep you locked in for an hour and 45 minutes with thrills, terror and suspense.

The movie is an incessant interrogation of what our young people are becoming, what they want and what the rules are to get it, yet its humor and humility make it stand out as one of the better recent satires.

The movie is a worthy examination of the culture surrounding Abercrombie and why it became so toxic—and how we followed suit—but it could’ve been a slightly more rounded-out story had it focused on all elements of the company’s biases.

Tony Hawk: Until the Wheels Fall Off is a reckoning of passion told by those who best understand the price of that love story: Hawk, his loved ones and his peers on the board.

Night’s End might be a cautionary tale about our preoccupation with revitalizing clichés, but it proves we have a rising horror star in Reeder. In my eyes, that’s a win for the genre, camp or not.

Schroeder’s eye is right on the money for Ultrasound, spotlighting the best bits of a lackluster script with heightened visual play. If only the other, crucial parts of the film lived up to the vision in his head.

With Evil Dead remake genius Fede Alvarez producing, and an apparent dedication to meaningfully furthering the original storyline, it seemed like there was no way this new version of the worst crime in Texas history could be a misstep. It turned out to be a trite modernization of the original, resting on topical concepts that it doesn’t know how to comment on—or at least, it’s not saying what it thinks it is.

Coster-Waldau and Greis-Rosenthal have a fierce chemistry and passion that coats every conversation they have with one another, whether it comes from a place of love or, later, of disdain. They push each other to their limits in nearly every scene, upping the ante with each glance and loaded word.

Because of its long road to the screen, I wanted so deeply to like it. However, its haphazard story, mediocre visual effects, downright awful costuming and other cardinal sins made it hard to find anything redeeming about the movie, no matter how many years have passed.

David Loughery’s writing isn’t necessarily bad, it just isn’t interesting, and when you’re doing this type of done-to-death B-movie, you need to bring something fresh to the table or else your film just fades away.

This is the best installment since the original, mainly because the film takes risks and bends conventions already set forth by the films that came before it. Scream was built on rules, but rules are always best when broken.

It never apologizes for what it is or what it wants to try and do, and that—along with the twists and turns of how the plot unfolds, as wild and nasty and unorthodox as it (and the performances that anchor it) can be—is worth the price of admission.

Two does a pretty solid job of putting its audience into the shoes of a couple who finds themselves surgically connected against their will and, naturally, it isn’t pretty. It is full of confusion and terror and adrenaline. I only wish the stakes could’ve been somehow raised to avoid a flat final act, but hey, you can’t always stitch up what’s broken.

The movie doesn’t take itself too seriously and, thus, it makes for a fairly entertaining movie night despite its flaws—just don’t expect anything more than your typical B-horror fare.

Things like a film’s cast, script or direction can keep us interested and giving a damn—but all of those elements fell flat in this installment.

Between sufficient scares and a puzzling yet promising narrative that takes shape in a wild fever that matches the intensity of the nearly feral antagonist, the story is vast and threaded smartly into a wearable piece of dread. The more granular writing, however, can be lackluster and the dialogue comes off cringeworthy in several spots.

It’s clear both The Card Counter and First Reformed are cut from that same cloth, though the latter sticks the landing better than the former.

It’s a fun flick and some may still be drawn into The Night House’s mystery, but the film—and everyone at the heart of its conception—have Hall to thank for that.

The power of friendship is what keeps the heart of this film pumping fresh blood until the very end.

Sequels have a lot to prove by default, and by default I try to give them a bit more leniency. But there’s not much merit in the way Escape Room: Tournament of Champions skirts around the series’ rules and bends them out of shape, only to discard them when they matter most: In the script and story.

Flashback certainly isn’t perfect, and despite the effort it took to fully immerse myself in the narrative in a way that made sense, there is something admirable about the message it wants to put out in the world.