Matt Donato

A Vigilante succeeds not by exploiting torture, but instead shifting focus to Olivia Wilde's painful, so very real performance.

As punishing as it is grotesquely poetic, Headshot is a healthy dose of breathtaking brutality that makes you hold on for dear life.

Prey is inarguably the best Predator since the original. The film gets so much right, paying homage to John McTiernan’s 1987 masterwork—through cigars and direct quotes that it’ll have fans hooting—and adding Indigenous representation with real cultural strength.

It walks a tightrope with its topics, but Williams is delicate and confident with every step — his performers following close behind, dominating the screen.

Something Else promises monsters but delivers more demons of the human experience variety, as this sweet and sincere creature feature is far more romantically heartfelt than expected.

It’s better as a comedy than as a wickedly sharpened thriller, making The Blackening one of those surefire “see it with a crowd” pleasers.

Dream Scenario is a sprawling dissection of subconscious desires and how marketable popularity spells doom for its subjects, showcasing Borgli's flexible originality without sacrificing emotional investment.

The Conference is one of the better slashers released this year if you’re in the mood to watch liars and brown-nosers get hacked, skewered and brutalized to bits, pulling overtime at the right moments.

Who Invited Them pays mind to cliquish popularity games more than its home invasion peers, which becomes its booze-soaked schoolyard charm.

It's A Wonderful Knife might make its points with steel blades, but that doesn't negate the saccharine earnestness that assures this one as a new Christmas horror favorite with a heart three sizes bigger than you'd expect.

Vannicelli weaponizes therapy-speak where other titles become preachy, uses role-playing as an abusive confusion tactic, and provokes a rather alluring mindf*ck that doesn’t have nor need all the answers to captivate viewers.

J.D. Dillard's Sweetheart is fierce aquatic horror without any frills.

Wake Up makes its impression like a candy bar with a razor blade at its core. It's a sweet little treat for action-horror fans that hurts so good, as long as you're in the mood for visually traumatic, hopeless vibes.

Alexandra Daddario and Maddie Hasson are the Hammett and Hetfield of Marc Meyers’ eyeliner ensemble, with looks that kill and attitudes doubly deadly. For that, this critic can downgrade other complaints. It’s full of amplified unhallowed fun and fiendish shocks in the name of rock n’ roll…or maybe that’s just what “The Man” wants you to think.

Sonic the Hedgehog 2 might momentarily lose itself to for-the-kids wackiness, which certainly leaves some plotlines frayed, but the reasons we’re here—Knuckles, Tails, Sonic, more Eggman—are all enthusiastically respected. I’m a happy Sonic fan after Fowler’s high-speed sequel.

The Pool is a bonkers blast from beginning to end. Each wave of misfortune crashes down harder than the last, pummeling a walled-in main character with sadistic spite.

I don’t love every storytelling element, but I do adore all that involves the star of the show, an aggro bear on obscene amounts of blow. You’ll get what you pay for, and can we ask much more from Cocaine Bear?

Run Sweetheart Run is a passionate Los Angeles marathon that severs heads, scolds abusive norms, and gets loud about the ways society needs to reflect upon bettering itself. Shana Feste finds action-packed elegance in rage and reflection, borrowing from fast-moving midnight flicks that aren't afraid to challenge oppressive stigmas.

Brooklyn 45 is a tragic fireside reminder about how easily good men and women can be corrupted, whether by propaganda rhetoric or the ghosts of miseries past.

What The Bad Guys 2 has to say about turning over a new leaf isn’t profound, but it’s effective nonetheless, especially when accentuated by so many goofy laughs and sticky-fingered thrills.

"Deadstream" is a cheekily chilling vlog-life satire that scores its shivers and smashes more than like buttons — I can't wait to cram this one into my Halloween movie marathons as a goofball, gross-out, grim-but-gleeful crowd pleaser.

Everything I’ve been asking for from a Resident Evil movie? Resident Evil: Welcome To Raccoon City accomplishes.

There's something to be said about the way Sakamoto depicts how the newer Japanese generation is left to fight for success amongst themselves — misled by older handlers and governing bodies — but you're ultimately here for ha-has and beatdowns, and neither disappoints. If there was ever an action movie that'd slay at a teen girl sleepover, it's Baby Assassins 2.

In the hit-and-miss subgenre of horror anthologies, V/H/S/85 is a shining beacon. Filmmakers are given the space to explore a gamut of ideas, none of which feel restrained to fit a specific anthology mold.

Drunk Bus straps you in for a semi-wild, uplifting ride out of somber darkness and into speedy reclamation.

Fences is old-school Americana that's driven by dynamite performances all around, albeit a bit stuffy in nature.

The craziness of David Leitch's train never goes off the rails nor reaches top speeds but still brings us along for a smooth and stable joyride that outshines its recent American action counterparts.

Ingrid Goes West is the kind of social media satire we need, even if a tone-shifting second act drives focus from mental health to less interesting criminal goofiness.

Keaton’s hazy wading through Kroc’s McDonald’s takeover is a dynamic performance that drives moral emptiness, but remains so poisonously watchable.

The Last Voyage of the Demeter should delight horror fans raised on Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, and offers an R-rated bite of vampiric brutality for genre fans with a stronger bloodlust. Øvredal does well to transport his cast to a time when scary stories were told around lanterns in the dead of night, and even if the moodiness evaporates due to a protracted runtime and the foregone conclusion of Dracula’s landfall, the director accentuates the basics of violent feeding sessions in hair-raising fashion.

Officer Downe is a vicious, violent bit of midnight madness that shoots first, and then shoots again for good measure. No need to ask questions.

Nanny seeps into your pores, stings like salt in a throbbing wound and doesn’t require what some horror fans might—conversely—wish appeared.

Linoleum is a heartfelt story about making every day seem like something fantastic.

Leigh Whannell does a damn fine job manifesting unnerved tension and sustaining Cecilia’s downfall right in front of everyone’s eyes.

Though Green may alienate some audiences with choices nowhere near as terrifying as William Friedkin’s original, something about the film’s heart endears beyond another exorcism retread satisfied to follow the same blasphemous beats.

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves is an accessible fantasy adventure that both roasts and respects D&D culture without losing newcomers along for the ride.

Shady lunatics are stuck in a lavish woodsy manor where they’re encouraged to explore their repressed issues to their most destructive ends — and that’s not even all of the devious entertainment available. It’s got storytelling hiccups along the way as Meir favors the absurdity of singular moments over and over, but that’s also part of its sharp-toothed charm. Come curious, leave bloody. That’s the path to enjoyment.

Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F is a standardized comeback that moderately succeeds in balancing tradition with reinvention. The film doesn’t kick your door down and challenge your Beverly Hills Cop fandom—Molloy knocks politely on your door and shows you what you want to see. It’s a humble nostalgia bomb à la Live Free or Die Hard, one afraid to upset the apple cart and detrimentally one-note. But Eddie Murphy’s still Eddie Murphy, and that’s like sneaking in a cheat code.

There’s nothing exceptionally freaky outside one or two practical effects of bodily implications, and yet Good Madam still finds nationally significant ways to summon societal fears.

Black Phone 2 is a template for how sequels can reach further and push for standalone appeal, bringing us as close to Freddy Krueger as we'll get until there's another A Nightmare on Elm Street.

Most Beautiful Island summons viewers into its seductive web, lashing out with teeth-grinding tension when you least expect it.

Brightburn doesn't ask if you want blood, but you've damn-well got it in this nastily gruesome superhero hack-n-slash that's a nightmare for parents everywhere.

While West’s sleazy ‘70s slasher remains one of my champion horror titles of 2022, Pearl is more like giddily deranged add-on downloadable content that makes for an unexpected bite-sized treat. Kudos to the accomplishment, and it’s an ax-swinging slice of bad-vibes hoedown kookiness, but there’s a particular substance missing that X oozes.

Totally Killer tries to skirt responsibilities by having you laugh at its self-awareness, which works as much as it doesn't. Kiernan Shipka will be the reason people talk about Totally Killer, even if the film's foundation of paper cards is one strong gust away from collapsing at any second.

King Cobra has the intensity, excitement and poison every thriller needs, and wild, engaging performances to boot.

Bell and Allen employ big ambitions in a confined area, treating stranger-danger paranoias with an elevated supernatural presentation that’s frightening—maybe a bit overlong—but undeniably effective.

Happy Death Day 2U is a more ambitious, more entertaining - albeit less horror powered - time-warp sequel that proves Jessica Rothe's blinding talent no matter what dimension she's in.

Submerged is a whole mess of tension primed to leave viewers in an anxiety-induced pile of helplessness, which means it does its job pretty damn well.

While War for the Planet of the Apes's third act is a bit hairy, the sequel helps cement the franchise as one of the more exciting mainstream properties worth watching.

Thelma doesn't exactly tell a unique story, but Joachim Trier's vision is so strong you'll barely even notice.

Gareth Evans’ Apostle is The Wicker Man, Safe Haven and Silent Hill thrown into a boil that bubbles over during a ruthless third act that certainly delivers if you have the patience.

While Wyrmwood: Apocalypse might be described as a brains-off zombie flick that’s best when at its most insane, it’s certainly not braindead. Engines rev as zombies breathe toxic-colored fumes, homemade outposts defend against hungry undead outside, and horror-action excitement ramps almost with a vivid, videogame cinematography that’s escapism through extreme, baddie-brutalizing violence.

Its methods may be unconventional, but Joel Potrykus never loses grip of the slippery strangeness.

Arrival challenges viewers to a brainier sci-fi conundrum than they're used to, which makes for an intellectual breath of fresh air.

Grant packs plenty into Torn Hearts’ double-barrel approach, and assures herself as a director who knows her way around a joyfully dark midnighter romp. It’s a sinister and fork-tongued tune that holds a nutty tempo, sure to delight audiences who are into hootin’ and hollerin’ at some honky-tonk horrors.

Like Me is a bombastic feature debut for Robert Mockler, benefitting heavily from visual artistry and Addison Timlin's strong performance.

I was ready for Kill Your Lover to be a better concept than execution, but that’s not true. Its flaws are apparent, from a forced feature duration to inevitable conclusions, but there’s nothing detrimental enough to ruin an otherwise impressive original horror creation.

For better or worse, Kostanski's throwback creature feature wants older horror fans to feel like their childish selves again — as long as their childhoods were filled with Charles Band and Pee-Wee Herman.

The Love Witch is a seductive 60s time-capsule that calls back to the technicolor charms of early genre filmmaking.

Let The Corpses Tan is a stunning display of visual seduction and slaughter-first gunplay, if not somewhat distracted by a skeletal script that’s been stripped of all meatiness.

It Ends takes viewers for a terrifying ride in unexpected ways.

Okja is a wild, tender tale of wonderment and friendship, delightful but still with smacks of vile consumerism darkness.

The Wrath of Becky is still a fun-filled slaughter-fest, even considering the lulls before Becky unleashes her fury.

Rough Night is a seriously funny movie led by some seriously funny ladies, but even more impressive is a mainstream comedy that relies not on cheap shocks like many who have come before.

It’s an unexpected commentary on filmmaking that layers metatextual zingers into its unbelievable rom-com intentions, somehow delivering what the title promises and more. In terms of mainstream comedies, we’re not in Kansas anymore—and that’s a win for Wain’s collective.

Win It All is another Swanberg special that hits upon the most human aspects of a gambler's curse, so perfect for Jake Johnson's leading take.

Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria will divide fans of the original and those excited for something fresh as a testament to long-form (2+ hour) filmmaking that holds together impressively well.

The Hollow Point is a blazing contemporary western that finds pleasure in punishment.

Blockers sells itself as a parents-first warpath comedy, but the true treat here is watching a trio of young women navigate sex-comedy narratives that boys have dominated for far too long.

The Belko Experiment rides a gushing wave of carnage through the elevators of an unsuspecting office building, gleefully making wolves out of sheep.

War On Everyone is a pitch-black, nihilistic riot, like a pissed-off teenager spinning atop a mountain with two outstretched middle fingers pointing in every direction.

When it’s best, The Seed is covered in slop and prone to psychedelic “romance” sequences where actresses writhe under and between the creature’s endless tissue flaps. It’s obscene and artful, on a budget that proves “doing it yourself” can still be provocative.

This is dirty, abusive, sticky, heartfelt (?), enlightened (??), intellectual (???), deranged, offensive, damningly provocative filmmaking at its…most…unhinged?

With tighter scripting, this’d be a masterpiece. As is? Christopher Nolan has produced a damn-fine picture that goes against most of what his catalog has become renowned for in a good, streamlined way.

See for Me positions itself as an unfair tale of “easy target versus evil men,” but highlights its strongest material when valuing people beyond their disabilities.

Margaux is younger adult horror with an edgier attitude and pops of twisted comedy, which helps distract from digital effects that look like they might actually be from 1999’s Smart House.

While its minimalist approach keys into creepy unknown anxieties about our extraterrestrial neighbors, Duffield’s signature dose of emotional heft floats away into the clouds this time around.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is a solid Guy Ritchie take on World War II that tells an incredible, sort-of-true story that’s plucky, punchy, and quite entertaining.

It plays like a late-night serial killer special on a true crime channel. It's organic, unnerving, and proficiently grounded as a modern criminal nightmare.

Babes succeeds as a comedy with enough primetime laughs — that’s (typically) what happens when hilarious comedians join forces — but never fully jells into a balanced experience between prenatal jokes and dead-serious subplots.

With Patriots Day, Peter Berg translates national tragedy to cinema screens with power and purpose for the second time this year – yet the question for many is with wounds still healing, do we really need to be subjected to recreations of a hateful act still fresh in our nation’s history?

It’s an enjoyable movie-night combination of lightning quips, genuine friendship and observational humor paced with Sonic’s “gotta go fast” attitude. Score one for video game fans!

This is a very funny, perfectly scored...exciting, albeit overlong exercise in pushing MCU boundaries to their franchise breaking point.

Bad Boys: Ride or Die might explore too many plotlines or bolt between too many characters, but brains-free enjoyment reigns supreme.

The Leech is a seedy, nefarious and scrappy morality tale that excels on the backs of its big-swinging performers.

It's a solid Friday night spookshow with solid bones and a divisive finisher — harmless horror entertainment that at least strives to be better than ordinary.

Curse Of Chucky is a vicious return to form for one of horror's most legendary icons, terrorizing victims in the purest, darkest form of criminal insanity.

Truthfully, there's a shorter iteration of "Slash/Back" that I'd adore — but I still like what premiered at SXSW. You can't help but want to champion the film's trademark sweetness, shining a light on badass little girls who take on their entire community's enemies.

Jackie is Natalie Portman's show, and she never wastes an opportunity to dazzle as JFK's glamorous grieving widow.

The Autopsy of Jane Doe is an age-old story of family horror that benefits from an approach focused on dark whimsy instead of typical genre jumps.

Sing 2 is more of the same, which is dandy.

A Monster Calls gets off to a rocky start, but once Neeson's talking tree starts spouting tales of wisdom, everything tightens as the tears start flowing.

Violent Night might take a hot minute to find its footing and keeps plucking low-hanging wordplay sugar plums, but at full strength, nobody's stopping Santa from making this year the reddest Christmas imaginable.

Furies is a double-barreled adrenaline shot of ladies-first action extravagance that shines a light on Vietnamese genre cinema.

For what it’s doing and for how visually appealing it can be, Dark Harvest delivers October ickiness with a crooked smile.

Tom George succeeds in telling an excitably ambiguous case within a self-deprecating whodunit satire, even when employing the easiest tricks in the manual.

Cult Of Chucky roots itself in nostalgia long enough to shock us all by flipping the Child's Play franchise on its head in an invigorated, inspiring, and oh-so-deadly way.

Look into the eyes of My Father Die, and you’ll see honesty. Never once does writer/director Sean Brosnan go out of his way to present “revenge” as a worthwhile venture, as he evokes the beastly nature of such drastic measures.