Nick Schager

In trying to have it both ways, it succeeds in neither, in the process stranding its charming leading man in a saga that needed to be either goofier or more gruesome.

A dismal misfire that strains to meld Meet the Parents-style comedy with The Exorcist-grade horror.

The Electric State" is just about as derivative as a modern blockbuster can be, and worse is that it skates along from one cacophonous and jokey set piece to another as if on rails.

For all its avenues of inquiry, however, it never quite gels into more than a collection of tantalizing but unfounded theories.

When it comes to sleek, stylish genre movies, Soderbergh remains a maestro at the top of his game.

Modest and moving, it’s a new sports-movie classic, as sneakily effective as the pitch which gives it its title.

For sheer unadulterated geekiness, it’s got few contemporary equals.

No matter a committed performance (two, actually) from Robert Pattinson, it’s an original that plays like a rehash—and an underwhelmingly unfunny one at that.

True cinema is John Lithgow terrorizing Geoffrey Rush in a nursing home with his creepy hand puppet.

What ultimately lingers more, however, is its portrait of the grit, determination, and sacrifice exhibited by these individuals—a stirring reminder that there’s nothing more noble than having your fellow man’s back.

At once incisive and ambiguous, it’s proof that Jude is operating on a completely different level than most of his contemporaries.

A unique saga of fathers, sons, and brothers, of fate, vengeance, and survival, and of a wind-up simian toy that just might be the Grim Reaper.

With leads Anya Taylor-Joy and Miles Teller generating considerable sparks, and violent set pieces that up the supernatural ante one out-there revelation at a time, the director’s latest proves a bonkers B-movie on a big-studio budget.

[Ford’s] presence—along with a winning turn from Anthony Mackie as the patriotic title character—makes this adventure a sturdy return to franchise form.

With wit, wonder, warmth, and a few wink-wink nods to the Indiana Jones movies, it’s further evidence of this franchise’s cute and cuddly preeminence.

As sumptuous and vapid as a commercial for Dior or Chanel’s latest fragrance.

The main takeaway from this dreary dud, however, is that winning an Academy Award is no guarantee of continued big-screen success.

Reinsve reconfirms that she’s one of international cinema’s most electric presences, and her formidable performance is the axis around which this taut drama revolves.

[A] bland stab at genre hybridization, whose sole accomplishment is falling flat at everything it tries.

An alternately (and sometimes simultaneously) harrowing and hallucinatory story of an OB-GYN who discovers that her every attempt at nurturing life leads only to more death.

A breakout (produced by Barry Jenkins) that heralds Victor as an idiosyncratic and exciting new American artist.

A somewhat slight homage with a strong voice and gentle twist rather than a wholly original work of terror.

Courtesy of charming and goofy performances by Will Ferrell and Reese Witherspoon as strangers who find themselves at war over their loved ones’ weddings, it’s amusing enough to do just fine on a screen of any size.

A harrowing first-person view of a ceaseless nightmare, defined by both blistering immediacy and crushing sadness.

The result is even better than his initial design: a sharp, hilarious, self-aware, and acutely insightful work of both celebration and critique.

An excruciatingly literal affair, not to mention a repetitive one, spinning in circles to dizzying, and ever-diminishing, ends.

A giddy grotesquerie that has midnight-movie crowd-pleaser written all over it.

A lyrical tale of combatting misfortune via community.