Odie Henderson

The true stars of “Jurassic World Rebirth,” the dinosaurs, are often left unidentified; we’re not sure if they’re real or some genetically engineered, made-up monstrosity. The film is so disinterested that it simply throws them onscreen with occasional bits of human beings stuck between their teeth.

I would be much harder on this movie if I didn’t have such a good time watching it. Admittedly, it’s ridiculous, but I absorbed all of its haphazard chaos with a huge smile on my face.

Thank goodness for Method Man, who understood the assignment and made the film watchable and fun whenever Jordan showed up. When he isn’t on screen, “Bad Shabbos” is a mediocre movie.

While I enjoyed “Elio,” and I appreciated the animation and Rob Simonsen’s lovely orchestral score, I felt that this film was more tailor-made for adult sci-fi fans rather than their young kids. To be clear, I’m not saying you should leave your kids at home — there’s nothing objectionable here. I’m just saying they might be as bored as you usually are at some of these movies.

I’m on the fence here. I enjoyed the animated version of this movie quite a bit, so I’m torn between being happy this film was nowhere near as bad as I’d expected and being frustrated that I sat through a carbon copy. Your enjoyment will depend on whether your Toothless nostalgia has a full set of teeth.

Song deconstructs rom-com tropes in service to a much meaner drama, with unlikable characters, a flimsy love triangle, and a dark subplot that is poorly handled.

As a big fan of the franchise, I admit I had a good amount of fun watching “Ballerina.”

Though Courtney and Harrison give their all, this is a slick-looking yet routine exercise that wastes an ideal premise.

It’s one of this year’s best movies. I don’t know how it will fare at the box office, but I can see it becoming a beloved favorite in the same way “The Shawshank Redemption” ultimately did. Like that classic, this one really makes you think about life and the things we take for granted.

After watching the worst Anderson movie yet, I was envious of the guy who blew up; he got to leave after only two minutes of this wretched comedy, the title of which sounds like a Robert Ludlum novel adaptation.

While I was never bored, I felt somewhat disconnected from this movie. It’s not that I wasn’t engaged or involved — I enjoy when a movie makes me work for its pleasures — it just felt like I was missing so much and left me wishing I’d seen more of the director’s movies.

Even at a mercifully short 94 minutes, this movie is exhausting. That would be fine if it weren’t also overly sincere, familiar, and dull.

Even if I like the film, as I did with “The Little Mermaid,” I still conclude that corporate greed is the sole reason for its existence.

Once “M:I-TFR” kicks into action mode, the film becomes riveting as we await whatever crazy stunt Tom Cruise is going to spring on us.

Robinson’s dedicated commitment to the bit is a given, but the bit is so one-dimensional that Craig stops being believable or human.

By the end of “When Fall Is Coming,” we recognize the film for what it is: a character study elevated by Vincent’s superb performance.

I’m tired of this stereotypical depiction of autism. It’s as if Hollywood has to assign superpowers to people on the spectrum in order for them to be accepted by mainstream audiences.

The Legend of Ochi is being pitched as a family movie by A24, but I don’t believe most kids would enjoy this slow-moving slog set in the Carpathian mountains.

Now in her seventh decade of starring in movies, Deneuve continues to glow onscreen. There’s such beautiful mischief in her eyes, and she’s at her most delectably dangerous when she’s not saying anything at all. These services are employed in a fun comedy that bends the truth until it nearly breaks.

This documentary has the feel of someone flipping channels nonchalantly, and everything they turn to is an interesting watch.

Though it doesn’t break any new ground, “The Wedding Banquet” does occasionally zig when you expect it to zag. These moments, along with the performances and the unobtrusive direction by Ahn, make this a successful and fun remake.

If “Sinners” commits one sin (forgive me), it’s a tendency to overexplain itself during the film’s climax. Still, Coogler and his excellent cast have created a sexy, funny, boisterous, and very bloody crowd pleaser, one that features a mid-credits sequence that adds another wrinkle to its intriguing mythology.

What makes “A Nice Indian Boy” shine are the performances and the sharp writing by Eric Randall.

The absurd plot twists in “Drop,” might be tolerable if the film weren’t so distastefully tethered to domestic violence.

The climax of The Amateur is one of the least satisfying meetings of hero and villain I’ve seen in a while.

This is a movie about a relationship that deserves to be nurtured and cherished. The most wonderful feature of “The Ballad of Wallis Island” is that it’s not the relationship you’re expecting.

Through Ferreira’s skillful navigation of her character’s growth, and Leguizamo’s preternatural ability to show kindness in earnest, the film worked its way around my defenses and hit me square in the tear ducts more than once.

As much fun as A Working Man can be, I kept thinking there’s a better movie peeking out through the cracks of this rather OK one.

The Penguin Lessons severely falters when it deals with the dangers of military occupation. It’s hard to watch a serious subplot involving people being “disappeared” by the government juxtaposed with scenes of cutesy penguin mayhem and classroom hijinks.

This movie is bad in all sorts of ways, none of which has to do with the fact that Disney cast a Latina actor as Snow White. In fact, that actor, Rachel Zegler, is the film’s saving grace.

When we’re not being fed warmed-over narration and editing tricks that remind us of the Scorsese-directed examples, we’re trapped with a visibly disinterested De Niro. He barely gives one performance, let alone two.

This is one of the year’s best films, a heartbreaking stunner that’s not easily shaken.

Lund has crafted a good-natured hangout movie that tells the story of one final game at Soldiers Field, a New Hampshire-set diamond slated for demolition the following day.

This Looney Tunes mega-fan went in fearing the worst, and came out happy that I took that left turn at Albuquerque.

Novocaine is a numbing experience that’s best seen on cable at 3 a.m., preferably after you’ve numbed yourself with the vice of your choice.

Soderbergh stages these games of one-upmanship as tight, dialogue-heavy scenes of discomfort and suspense.

While the visuals are often stunning, and the first hour has a loose, raunchy charm, “Mickey 17″ wears out its welcome long before its overlong, nearly t2½-hour runtime ends.

I doubt anyone will be too bothered by the lack of character depth. The audience for “Last Breath” is there for the dangerous dive developments.

Putting the film’s thesis statement in the mouth of its maternal figure feels intentional; so does the laissez-faire tone. As a result, we laugh so that we may not cry.

While Lumbly brings a refreshing amount of Black anger and cynicism to his performance, Mackie is stuck in a kumbaya mode designed to not offend white viewers. It may be a brave new world, but it’s the same old story.

Colman and Banderas have a great time hamming it up, and their fun is quite infectious. Walters is also at her spiky best. They help make this a worthwhile afternoon at the cinema.

Love Hurts is an absolute mess, but its hero almost saves the day.

Director Walter Salles returns to the political filmmaking he employed in the 2004 Che Guevara film, “The Motorcycle Diaries.” Like that film, this one follows a protagonist who becomes an activist after being jarred by political events.

The big surprise is that none of these talented voice actors bring anything new or interesting to their one-dimensional roles.

This is a very patient movie, filled with equally patient performances, lyrical camerawork and some stunning images of its characters residing within the frame.

At almost two hours, “One of Them Days” does lag a bit. But even when it gets sluggish, there’s still a sisterly moment to enjoy or a laugh to be had.

Each one of these performers uses the same adjective to describe the songwriter: “relentless.” Many more interviewees will testify that Warren earned the bracelet she wears — the one that says “relentless as [BLEEP].”

The Brutalist reminded me of Paul Thomas Anderson’s “There Will Be Blood.” With both films, I found the first half spectacular, while the second half left me dissatisfied and scratching my head.

Throughout the film, we know as much as ABC does and nothing more. Filled with scenes of process, it’s as suspenseful as any thriller.

This dramatic two-hander partners one of the cinema’s greatest talkers with one of its best listeners, Julianne Moore.

Hard Truths is a definitive work in Leigh’s canon.

The movie is big and ostentatious when its delicate, sad story needed to be more quietly told. Anderson definitely understands this idea; despite playing a chaotic and unlikable character, she’s the most stable element here.

Perhaps by making the audience walk a mile in the shoes of Black characters, Ross is engendering some much-deserved empathy.

What makes “The Fire Inside” so powerful is the uncomfortable questions it poses: How responsible is a person for their family’s well-being?

It’s the cinematic equivalent of a classic-rock station, except instead of getting the genuine articles to serenade you, you’re stuck with a bunch of actors cosplaying famous folk singers.

I must give credit to Reijn’s screenplay for including scenes where Romy and Samuel work out the kinks in satisfying this particular kink.

When Dafoe is onscreen, his unpredictable energy drives a deserving stake into the film’s stodgy heart.

The voiceover work is good and, as far as franchise entries go, it’s quite watchable.

Though I could easily predict what’s coming next in Carry-On, that didn’t stop me from having a good time. The twists were executed successfully, and I liked that the heroic characters did some unlikable things in order to save themselves.

As the plot swings haphazardly between drug-induced hallucinations and reality, we lose trust in what we are seeing.

Flow can be read as a climate-change parable, an empathic plea for understanding each other, or as a simple entertainment featuring cute animals and perilous situations.

Moana 2 is disappointing, but it’s also watchable. I appreciated the attempt to tell a story that wasn’t based solely on the studio’s IP. And the visuals will entertain the kids too young to endure all 160 minutes of “Wicked” this holiday season.

The biggest problem I had with this visually unappealing cinematic version of “Wicked,” is that it can’t handle the tonal shifts.

Thumbs up for Denzel; send the rest of this movie to the lions.

Though “Red One” is a bit of a slog, it’s still better than about 98 percent of the Christmas movie junk flung at us by the studios and streaming services every holiday season.

The entire cast does stellar work, but this is Culkin’s movie. The “Succession” star makes Benji’s arrested development relatable instead of pitiful, and you can’t help but feel for him even when he’s being obnoxious.

This is a master class in quiet acting, one that’s hard to shake once the credits roll.

The actors turn in great work, but the true stars of “Blitz” are the production design by Adam Stockhausen and the cinematography by Yorick Le Saux. Collectively, they put you inside the Tube stations and shelters that were occupied by Londoners trying to escape the Blitz.

This Denzel Washington family affair (Washington and his daughter, Katia, produced it, his son directed it, and his other son plays the lead) is well worth watching. It captures the spirit of Wilson’s magnificent prose, moving the audience the way the author intended.

Though the plot gets a tad thin toward the end, “Heretic” does a good job of pelting us with uncomfortable questions.

Though I’ve had weeks to roll “Emilia Pérez” over in my head, I still haven’t reached a conclusion about it. If nothing else, this movie will lodge itself in some corner of your brain that you’ll return to now and again.

Dahomey packs a lot of introspection and heart into its brisk 68 minutes.

Music by John Williams is a fine tribute to the magic of a legendary maestro.

Couple the broad acting and cliché-ridden screenplay with the fixed-frame format, and “Here” comes off like a bad sitcom, or even worse, a school play made by a bunch of fifth-graders who decided to tackle Eugene O’Neill or “Death of a Salesman.”

What saves “Anora,” and makes it worth seeing, is the performance by Madison.

Conclave is a massively entertaining slice of melodramatic excess, with actors who know they’re in a soap opera disguised as high drama. As a result, everyone plays their roles completely straight — and to great effect.

The film makes its edgier, more uncomfortable arguments with conviction, forcing us to think about who the justice system trusts, and why.

Perhaps Crowley was trying to deconstruct the clichés we’ve become accustomed to in romantic movies since the old studio system started churning them out. But even that explanation fails to hold water as “We Live in Time” repeatedly falls back on those dated, tired tropes.

The lack of a deeper dive into its subject’s trials and tribulations is the biggest flaw of “Piece by Piece.” While the concept of making a documentary with Legos is an intriguing one, and it’s well executed, the film itself is a very shallow look at its subject.

Despite the frenetic pace, “Saturday Night” falls flat and fails to raise one goose pimple.

Mirren holds the film together with her narration, but she can’t save the film from Forster’s penchant for overdoing emotional scenes or from Thomas Newman’s intrusive score.

There’s a bittersweet poignancy in watching the children bond with animals and people during their travels before beginning the next leg of their journey.

In addition to being a lousy musical, “Folie à Deux” is also a dreadfully dull courtroom drama.

It’s rare that a movie fires on all cylinders as this one does. The jaw-dropping animation tells a bittersweet and lovely story. The voice work is stellar, and the score sweeps you along on a wave of excitement. Fans of the books will not be disappointed.

There’s an optimism here that coexists with humor, joy, sadness, and more than one laugh-out-loud moment.

Wolfs has enough action to keep us from contemplating how silly it is.

That the director spent 40 years trying to make this worthless, 138-minute hot mess shocks me to no end. “Megalopolis” plays as if every iota of this once-great filmmaker’s talent got sold along with his vineyard.

Had it been 90 minutes, we might be talking about a classic here. If there’s anything that was in dire need of a shot of The Substance to bring out a leaner, tighter version of itself, it’s this film’s Cannes-award-winning screenplay.

Once the general premise is established, “His Three Daughters” lets us bask in the glory of three actors at the top of their game.

Since this is a Tim Burton movie, you can safely assume the love story is the most twisted subplot of all. Still, the actors hold our interest and make the movie believable.

A house is just a structure; what’s inside makes it a home. This film delicately shows what happens when the powers that be decide that the home you made is no longer yours.

Reagan is the worst kind of hagiography. It’s a wretched 2½-hour bore that’s uncurious about its subject.

Blink Twice may be aiming for a feminist statement, but it’s ultimately just a slasher movie with a bunch of one-dimensional Final Girls played by Alia Shawkat, Trew Mullen, Liz Caribel, and “Hit Man”’s Adria Arjona.

Between the Temples emerges as a quirky and effective showcase for two actors known for playing oddball characters.

Despite its overdependence on catering to fans, “Alien: Romulus” is the best “Alien” movie since Cameron’s first sequel.

Only a true grinch would grumble loudly at a film that delivers its pro-environment message with a light touch that avoids preachiness.

If you’re willing to just go with it, no questions asked, “Cuckoo” is an entertaining horror offering. But I must warn you that trying to make sense of the plot will drive you, well, cuckoo.

It runs out of story about midway through, and spends more time attempting to make these guys look cool than showing us the importance of their acts of linguistic civil disobedience.