Moira Macdonald

Having, presumably, run out of surfaces on the ground, the mad driving crew of Furious 7 resort to backing their cars off a plane and clutching their steering wheels while driving, er, falling through thin air. Why do they do this? Because it’s fun … to watch, that is.

Score, directed by Matt Schrader, breaks no new ground in the art of documentary — it’s mostly talking heads — but it’s an enjoyable walk through the art and history of the film score, with dozens of contemporary composers lending their voices.

Every dog in this sweetly earnest movie seems to have a strong sense of responsibility.

What Bradley Cooper’s beguiling A Star Is Born is very, very good at is showing us how a song can transform a person, or a moment, and how that transformation just might make us fall in love with the person singing it, for a moment or for longer.

You get caught up in the way Tucci lets a round lamp fade into a glowing moon, or how Rush’s posture suggests a lifetime of bending over a canvas, or how a face on that canvas slowly emerges, from a forest of lines — and suddenly, time passes, and art happens.

You sense that a lot of the funniest stuff is flying by too quickly to land.

The film, directed by Paul McGuigan, is basically a weepie, and it doesn’t do quite enough to show contemporary audiences why Grahame was special. But its performances make it a pleasure to watch.

Luca Guadagnino’s moody drama A Bigger Splash is, unexpectedly, a study in charisma, with two wildly different performances at its center.

If you go expecting a slightly quirky romantic drama with touches of magic realism, not to mention the pleasure of seeing Ryan in one of her rare screen appearances these days, I think you might leave happy.

Director Matt Spicer...is dealing with some fairly obvious themes; i.e. everything on social media isn’t what it seems; living your life online isn’t necessarily a good idea. But he finds much wit in the characters, and in the wicked fun the actors are having.

It’s predictable — throughout the film, I kept thinking that I’d seen it before — and a bit sentimental, yet thoroughly pleasant.

Here, the focus is on Knightley, who delivers some of her best work.

With impeccable performances — particularly an electric, extended scene between Marcus and the college dean (Tracy Letts), and Gadon, whose wistful character has a face full of secrets — Indignation is an elegant debut for longtime producer Schamus; a visit to the past, with both sunshine and darkness.

It’s a good story, well told, though you have to forgive Hood for indulging in a little journalistic cliché.

Unsane has an uncanny way of reflecting the world through Sawyer’s eyes, sometimes amplified by the medication she’s forced to take. It’s not a pretty place.

It’s pretty, it’s melodramatic-verging-on-silly, and if you like this sort of thing it’s great fun.

Though it’s fun watching Pitt swanning about in his nonchalant way — and a delight to see Kerry Condon, as a F1 technical director, finding some playful chemistry with him — this movie is entirely about the driving, and the speed.

A Quiet Place, Part II, with its skillful jump scares and sly central premise (silence is safety, noise is fear), delivers the goods, and sent me home nervously worried that something might sneak up on me — as all scary movies should. Bring on Part III, quietly.

It’s an unfinished story, which leaves Dancer slightly unsatisfying, as if we’re abandoning a book mid-chapter. But what a pleasure to wallow in the talent of a ballet rock star — and to watch a troubled young man find peace in a split-second of perfection.

It’s a compelling argument, in a film that may well change a few minds — or at least inspire some heartfelt post-screening arguing.

Byrne, a recent Oscar nominee for “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You,” holds it together.

It’s a quick, funny movie.

Hail, Caesar! isn’t the great film you might like it to be, but it’s very, very good fun.

Along the way, we learn that all four actors are not only charmingly believable as friends but also brilliant at physical comedy.

What’s fun here is both the easy charm of the four women (two of whom have a long screen history together; watch for Smith and Latifah in a shout-out to 1996’s “Set It Off”), and the range of comedy styles they display.

Despite the twee being occasionally laid on too thick, Goodbye Christopher Robin is ultimately a pleasant enough wallow in British childhood.

The Ocean’s 8 cast makes up for any deficits in its execution (Awkwafina, in particular, can make even the most mundane line funny); these women are just great fun to hang with, and I’d happily sit still for a slew of sequels.

Harriet is a handsome and surprisingly quiet film, taking the time to honor the main character’s deep religious faith.

Director Justin Kurzel keeps the action taut and lean, letting the story unfold on the faces of his leading men as they slowly move toward their final confrontation.

The fun is watching the shivery details — such as a shot of the back of Cecilia’s neck, in which we can almost feel the sudden scent of a presence — and appreciating the skill of Moss’ performance.

While it ticks all the expected boxes for a sports drama, it’s also something more.

Wake Up Dead Man is less funny and more meditative than its predecessors: Father Jud, a man of quiet faith, inspires a certain introspection in Benoit, and the two men ponder questions of religion and mortality, which wasn’t really on my “Knives Out” bingo card but was often utterly engrossing, with the two actors finding a thoughtful chemistry.

Is After the Wedding a great movie? No, not especially. Are these two women treasures of cinema? Absolutely.

“Jay Kelly” is a playful movie made with palpable love for cinema and its magic.

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again doesn’t pretend to be anything more than what it is: sweet, silly, sun-splashed absurdity, with a thumping disco beat. The world is a mess these days; some of us might just need this movie.

At times, the film approaches gallows comedy...perhaps a little too much so; at others, it’s a tense, chilling look at a seemingly unbearable choice — refreshingly, without telling its viewers what to think.

Though I’d have preferred Fast X to have a little more driving and a little less fighting, and was disappointed to realize that the film’s climactic moment is pretty much in the trailer, this movie is good, silly popcorn fun — with a couple of scenes at the end (stay put during the first half of the credits) indicating even better times ahead.

Key and Peele’s fast-talking chemistry, as they shift their language instantly from suburbanite to street (a theme in many of their sketches), make Clarence and Rell’s transformation into bellowing, gun-wielding tough guys and back again feel fresh and often very funny.

While the structure occasionally feels a bit awkward, On the Basis of Sex has the kind of crowd-pleasing story that skims over any minor shortcomings; by its end, you’re ready to cheer.

For me, a grown-up spoiled by Pixar, Pete’s Dragon seemed sweet but slow and a little bland. My guests, entranced by the friendly dragon and the film’s 3D depictions of flight, thought otherwise.

Linklater really nails the atmosphere here; watching Blue Moon feels like sitting with smart people in a retro bar, covered in a gentle blanket of cocktail piano. And Hawke, often surrounded by wafting symphonies of cigar smoke, gives a beautifully shaded performance, of equal parts bravado and vulnerability.

Despite an unnecessary reliance on blurry re-enactment scenes early in the film, Wardle makes Three Identical Strangers as spellbinding as a great psychological thriller.

Molly’s Game could have been a terrific movie if Sorkin could have edited out 20-30 minutes; as it is, it’s a good movie overstuffed.

Its settings and cinematography are beautiful, filled with marble hallways and vivid red carpets that seem to be punctuating the scenery with a slash. . . And its performances are a pleasure, everywhere you look.

Where is Kyra? is a small story — there’s much about its main character that we’ll never know — and a terribly sad one. But it’s a remarkable showcase for Pfeiffer, who’ll break your heart in every scene.

Isabelle is complicated, in a way that movie women often aren’t; Binoche makes her an intriguing puzzle to solve.

Most of the movies from the British stop-motion wizards at Aardman Animations are pure delight, full of endlessly replayable moments and the kind of enchanting silliness that seems to transport you, however briefly, to a better world. Early Man, their latest effort, is merely good, which is to say that it’s well-crafted and enjoyable.

A coming-of-age tale like you’ve never seen, Julia Ducournau’s Raw left me intrigued, mildly nauseated and extremely curious about what passes for recreation at French veterinary schools.

Ultimately Denial works, thanks to its strong cast — particularly Spall, who gives Irving a slightly mad gleefulness, and Weisz, whose smart, tough Deborah chafes against the quiet acquiescence expected of her.

The Boys in the Boat is ultimately a tribute to a time long gone, to the power of teamwork, and to the grace with which an oar dips into the water on a sun-dappled lake.

There’s no happy ending to this story, but it’s a pleasure to spend just a bit of time with Radner again.

A rare charmer from the DC Comics universe.

This movie, while perhaps not quite as charming as the 2000 original “Chicken Run” (lightning rarely strikes twice, even on chicken farms), is a hoot.

Wicked: For Good could have been better, but it’s still a glorious journey to Oz.

Are we alone, or is there more than we know? Personal Shopper is less interested in the answer than in, hauntingly, posing the question.

A cheerily uneven but enjoyable adaptation of Agatha Christie’s blockbuster novel.

Batra has assembled a strong cast, a thoughtful screenplay (by Nick Payne), a meticulous attention to detail — all of which make The Sense of an Ending a pleasure to watch. But the book ever-so-subtly slams you in the heart; the movie, just as subtly, only walks near it.

An odd combination of space adventure, psychological thriller and moody tone poem, it stops just short of dazzlement; instead Ad Astra, like an astronaut lost in space, slowly and majestically floats away.

The movie zips along quickly, full of popcorn-worthy moments.

Anderson, who may well have been waiting her entire career for a role this rich, finds something sweet and haunting in Shelly, whose whispery voice sounds like a shadow and who sees art and value where Hannah sees tacky exploitation.

Sing Street reminds us of being young and lost in a song, realizing with a jolt that someone else had the same feelings we did.

This isn’t really a movie, but a delicious wallow, and regular movie rules don’t apply.

Bullock and Tatum take hold of the material and turn it into an enchanted screwball.

It’s a small film that touches on large issues: the world of work, and how it defines us. You leave it feeling you’ve met someone, and wishing him well.

It’s fun to watch Samantha playing her sources like a teenager plays a video game — expertly, offhandedly — and fascinating to witness the machinations between Naomi and Erin, neither of whom ever tells the other what she’s thinking.

The cast is a delight — Cola, between this film and “Joy Ride,” is officially the funniest best friend of summer 2023 — and the film has some thoughtful things to say about identity, attraction, ambition and moving on.

Bazawule slowly but surely lifts us up, letting us soar with the cast by the end.

House of Gucci is no masterpiece, but it’s often crazy good fun.

You leave Touched with Fire wishing there were a little more to it — the screenplay needed to flesh out Carla and Marco a bit more as people, rather than Bipolar Poets in Love — but undeniably moved.

It plants its gaze on Lee — and on Elliott, who takes The Hero in his hands and makes something quietly moving from it.

It’s the kind of documentary that might serve as a perfect introduction to Lumet’s work; when it’s done, you want to watch all of these films immediately.

It’s Hedges who owns the film, who lets us see Jared’s pain and confusion on his tightly clenched face — and who, in a gentle epilogue, gives us a lovely, wordless demonstration of freedom.

While the first “Grinch” I will always adore It’s possible that there’s still room for one more. Hearing the Who’s sing their songs to the skies — It’s still movie magic, whatever the size.

Letts has some fine moments, but it’s Winger who really brings the color to this movie, creating a woman filled with disappointment and passion and wit, taking a small-scale comedy of manners to a darker, richer place.

If it occasionally feels a little too cinematic, with a few too many obstacles thrown in the way of Gail and her son, so be it. The film’s an impressive accomplishment, on several levels.

The film belongs to Streep, who makes Florence a sweetly feathery dreamer — singing like an angel, in a voice that only she can hear.

It’s all good, goofy fun; make it an air-conditioned double feature with “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again” and you might just have the very definition of “summer movies.”

As rom-coms go, it’s pretty much everything you want, even if it’s not quite distinctive enough to linger.

The eighth entry in the movie franchise that began in 1996 (based on a television series that began in 1966), is a competent, smart, expensive and sometimes thrilling action movie; it is also a very long one, in which we are given time to wonder whether spy/superhero/very intense runner Ethan Hunt (Cruise) ever just gets up in the morning and decides to take it easy that day.

The “Trip” movies, like the anchovies Coogan and Brydon happily devour, aren’t to everyone’s taste.... But oh, those impressions.

If Civil War wasn’t so utterly horrifying, it could be a superhero movie, with journalists wearing the capes.

What’s most appealing about Zellweger’s portrayal is the brightness that peeps out from the clouds: her deep love for her children, her sly wit.

Ultimately, The Electrical Life of Louis Wain is made enjoyable by its human and feline actors, despite the sadness of the material, and it left me wanting to know more about its subject, which I suppose is the point.

There's something about Fiscuteanu's quietly desperate performance (with much of the emotion conveyed through his eyes), that gets under your skin.

Thanks to Dench, Victoria & Abdul is constantly engaging and at times moving.

Mary and the Witch’s Flower isn’t quite a masterpiece.... But it’s a joy to look at: a visual adventure, and a continuation of a remarkable legacy

Much of The BFG, perhaps a little too much, is devoted to watching Sophie madly scurry away from the giants; it’s a beautifully rendered chase but still just a chase. When the movie slows down to allow Rylance and Barnhill to converse, it finds its magic.

Everything about Rose Glass’ violent revenge thriller Love Lies Bleeding is unexpected; you watch it as if strapped into a roller-coaster car, not sure when the next dip or swerve might be.

Soderbergh keeps the action light and playful, and lets the cast members find their own silliness within it.

We fall in love with this couple, just a bit, and want them to be together. And Hathaway and Galitzine make a charmer of a pair.

There isn’t much here that hasn’t been explored in countless movies and novels before, but what makes “The Nest” utterly compelling is its front-row seat for two splendid performances.

It’s not a perfect movie, but Zendaya makes it a great pleasure.

The whole endeavor is so relentlessly lovable, like Bridget herself, that I defy anyone to not enjoy themselves.

Take “Billy Elliot,” trade the refined world of ballet for the “soap opera in spandex” of professional wrestling, swap the preteen boy for a young woman, throw in The Rock — because every movie is better with The Rock, right? — and you’ve got Fighting With My Family, a shaggily likable underdog tale.

It’s a sly little film, playing with our expectations, keeping us guessing — and wondering if Krieps’ name might be as familiar as Streep’s, one day.

Get Out will scare you, make you laugh and perhaps make you uncomfortable. It’s supposed to.

Yorgos Lanthimos’ particular brand of dark comedy can be an acquired taste, and his latest, the gritty conspiracy thriller Bugonia, pushes that taste to the limit.

Ultimately, Moving On is about friendship, and who better than Grace and Frankie to show us that?