Matt Fowler

Outside the Wire is too long, too impenetrable, and not fun enough to warrant its lofty man vs. machine gimmick. It's fun to watch Anthony Mackie assume the role of a smart, cordial killbot, but the film's occasionally exciting bits of action aren't enough to breathe life into this muddled mess of a story.

George Clooney's The Midnight Sky is a gorgeous, glossy doomsday odyssey that feels like too big a winter coat on a small, fragile frame.

Grimy, "topical" pandemic adventure Songbird is pretty much D.O.A. It struggles to find life in its secluded settings while also, overall, just leaving a bad taste in your mouth. The love story never catches hold, the ensemble never gels, and the contrivances pile up beyond all repair.

Glenn Close and Amy Adams shine in Ron Howard's new, rather unfocused film about abuse, poverty, and addiction.

The Christmas Chronicles: Part Two, directed and co-written by Chris Columbus, once again takes full advantage of Kurt Russell's exuberance as Santa -- and the full addition of Goldie Hawn's Mrs. Claus -- for a rewarding romp about young Kate Pierce's need to rediscover the holiday spirit.

The Croods: A New Age is a mightily medium follow-up to the 2013 original. The voice cast is great and the jokes are the perfect type of clever, where both kids and adults can get a good laugh. The story and emotional stakes are a touch thinner this time but that's to be expected, for the most part, from this type of animated sequel.

Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey already feels like a timeless treat. Though it's a little longer than it needs to be, Jingle Jangle is still filled with enticing visuals, holiday heart, and seasonal cheer. It instantly feels like a snug, fabled world ready to be explored.

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm may not contain all of the shock and awe of the original, since exposing racists has sadly sort of become commonplace, but it still contains an avalanche of awkward, anxiety-cranking moments that'll have you laughing while watching through your fingers like you would a horror movie.

The Outpost is a cleverly, and respectfully, crafted war film that uses a segmented, episodic approach to help you invest in the characters while building up to a very impressive battle sequence.

Hubie Halloween is aggressively stupid, sure, but it's also occasionally endearing (with a guilty chuckle or two).

Peninsula feels fairly derivative when compared to the tighter and more terrifying Train to Busan, but on its own, as an expansion of this universe, it's a rollicking ride through a hollowed-out hellscape. It's almost a complete genre shift, but not an unrewarding one.

The Rental boats a strong cast, an intriguing set up, and a compelling mystery. It's a fun and feisty web of lies and deception with the added bonus of having a shadowy, stalking presence surrounding everything and everyone like a God-hand. It's a small film, but it's tense, dense, and delivers a harrowing final act.

It plays into the dystopian fantasy of being able to reinvent yourself in a lawless world, delivering a clever tale about what it takes for someone who's not a part of existence to want to reengage with life.

Greyhound has occasional bursts of violent excitement but it's overall lack of engaging characters, the unappetizing CG, and the lackluster story make for a very color-by-numbers outing from a headlining star capable of a whole lot more.

Even without the content of 2020 making the film feel even more unpalatable, Netflix's The Last Days of American Crime is a distractingly dull dystopian thriller with drab (and/or extraneous) characters and a squandered premise.

The Vast of Night is a minimal marvel, drawing out fear and anticipation with not much more than a cunning script, stirring performances from its young stars, and the starkness of the dark skies above them. Within it you'll find a Spielbergian love for sci-fi peppered with a twisted appreciation for negative space and the unknown.

Simon Pegg and Lily Collins act the hell out of a script with a fun set-up and a lazy payoff.

The Wretched's endeavor to meld a junior mystery with some pretty extreme horror works more than it doesn't, but ultimately neither side of this narrative coin gets explored as much as it should. Despite this, as a well shot and admirably executed thriller, it's a good entry into the catalogue of on-the-cheap scares.

Extraction works because its simple, yet sufficient, story allows the film's action to take center stage. If the stunt work were mediocre, the entire thing would be an utter waste of time. Thankfully though, Extraction boasts an exhaustingly awesome showcase of expertly choreographed fists, knives, guns, and explosions.

The story's lifted a bit by some of the solid comedic actors, and the WWE Superstars who make a run-in, but when the story isn't sloppy, it's paint-by-numbers.

Coffee & Kareem keeps it simple, short, and to the (ultra) violent point as a raunchy cop comedy with clever jokes, zany action, and fun chemistry between leads Ed Helms and young Terrence Little Gardenhigh. It's a small cast but everyone in it is pretty funny, and the director easily knows how to craft a compelling mismatched partner scenario.

The Jesus Rolls, while a passion project for the writer/director/star -- though it's unclear what Turturro wanted to do more: remake Going Places or do a Jesus follow-up? -- comes off like a flat fever dream. The famous faces are fun and at times there's a wee bit of misfit charm, but in the end it's clumsy and churlish.

Underground is cartoonishly raucous explosion porn from mayhem maestro Michael Bay that feels like a film that was made over a decade ago and was just somehow recently unearthed by Netflix. It's a testament to star Ryan Reynolds and his seemingly effortless charisma because without him the movie would have been a snow-blind mess.

Sergio Pablos' Klaus is a beautifully animated mix of old and new - offing up a unique and quirky take on Santa's humble beginnings. It's a fun, fresh story about friendship and the power of kindness that coats snowbound cliches with a shiny sheen.

I Lost My Body stands as one of the year's best and most profound pieces of animation.

Noelle is often lifted up and out of a full rut by Anna Kendrick's energetic and gallantly goofy turn as the North Pole's most deserving and capable Kringle. Without her, Noelle is average fare, rehashing a lot of timeworn cliches from other, more clever, festive films.

The King is a relevant reshaping of Shakespeare's Henry V featuring a stunning turn by Timothée Chalamet.