Odie Henderson

[Harris’s] Southern Gothic story of domestic violence, and the repercussions of revenge, has the aura of Greek tragedy and the darkest heart of neo-noir. Its soul is an unapologetic howl of Black female rage represented by the superb lead performances of Kara Young and Mallori Johnson.

Not since Charlotte Wells’s 2022 film “Aftersun,” about a woman remembering a pivotal trip she took with her father as a child, have I seen this level of personal filmmaking presented in such superb and original fashion. “Blue Heron” is one of the best films of the year.

Once again, Streep is a fierce force of nature, slaying all with an icy stare and a cutting verbal wit.

With this entertaining, funny, and informative movie, McKenzie can add documentary filmmaker to his CV. I doubt it will convince anyone who has bought into the legends of cryptocurrency to change their outlook, but skeptics will definitely get a kick out of this three year journey, which started during the pandemic in 2020.

Along with an equally superb Scott Ellis Watson, who plays Davidson as a teenager, Aramayo is the best thing in this movie. Unfortunately, the rest of it is Biopic 101, which at times makes the story feel too simplistic and thin.

The back and forth between the two actors becomes fraught with confusing allusions and muddled metaphors before ceding control to some unsuccessful supernatural elements.

Director Antoine Fuqua traffics in fan service of the highest order and the lowest quality. This is nothing more than a 127-minute series of poorly executed recreations of milestones in Jackson’s life.

McKellen and Coel give a master class in line readings throughout “The Christophers.” It’s a real pleasure watching two seasoned actors bounce off each other in service to creating their characters. It’s even more delightful to see this in a film made for adults that has plenty to say about human nature, love, and the inspirations that fuel our lives.

As a documentary about Lorne Michaels, “Lorne” isn’t much; it’s more of a look at “Lorne Michaels,” the character his mysterious nature created.

Soft girl era is something the socialmedialites are desperately in search of, and so am I. “You, Me & Tuscany,” takes us there.

Exit 8 is based on a best-selling video game released in 2023. I have not played it, but if it’s anything like director Genki Kawamura’s adaptation, I’d say it’s enough to drive a person crazy.

Ahmed gives his all, but it’s not enough to elevate this version above near-miss status.

I save the zero star designation for movies that I think have no redeeming value whatsoever or are morally repugnant. “The Drama” meets both criteria.

As far as rehashed sequels go, “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” could have been worse. That it’s slightly better holds out hope that the inevitable third film will be a major power up in quality.

I suppose that if you’re familiar with the designer and his history, you’ll find this movie entertaining. But there’s nothing here for newbies or those wanting to know more about its subject. I found little of use, so it was a long, dreary slog to get to the end credits.

Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice is full of crazy ideas, but its most daring leap occurs when Grabinski’s screenplay finds room for an investigation into the feelings of its characters. The film takes the time for everyone to get personal and emotional gripes off their chests, and does so in such earnest fashion that it balances out the absurdity.

This is a cautionary tale, but it’s also a celebration of a life filled with crazy stories and lots of love.

For all its bells and whistles, “Project Hail Mary” is also a lovely, bittersweet character study, a pas de deux between man and alien that elicits a surprising amount of emotions by the time the credits roll.

There isn’t a single original idea to be found here, nor a twist you can’t predict immediately. This film has what Siskel and Ebert used to call “the Idiot Plot.” That is, a plot that doesn’t contain a single credible moment, and would be over if everyone involved wasn’t an idiot.

Individual parts of “The Bride!” work, but as a whole, the critic in me found it confusing and irritating.

Unfortunately, I didn’t laugh very much, and the story didn’t work as well as the movies that inspired it.

It works well as a documentary, and I can’t deny that Presley gave 110 percent to his audience at every show. That in itself is impressive. (If you’re a fan, add an extra star to my rating.)

"Adorable" is not an adjective I’ve often applied to a movie, but “K-Pops!” earns it. It will play well on the big screen, and make you forget about your troubles for two hours.

It’s the kind of movie my 2½-star rating was invented for; that is, a movie that’s interesting enough to put me on the ropes for several rounds before dropping its hands and getting knocked out.

Hinds and Manville do a credible job of portraying a marriage that has run its course, and their best work occurs in the silences that pass between their characters, Gerry and Sheila.

How to Make a Killing should be a lot more fun than it is. The murders are poorly staged and unfunny, and Powell’s performance is so one-note and smug that you can’t root for him even if you think his killing spree is justified.

Pillion is the story of that one relationship that defines a person, the one that finally reveals to them what they want out of sex, love, and life. We can all relate to that.

When Fennell swaps in her adult actors, the cracks start showing immediately. While strikingly attractive on their own, Elordi and Robbie have zero romantic chemistry.

Unfortunately, director Aidan Zamiri and his co-writer Bertie Brandes are equally bad at mockumentaries and generating suspense.

Foster and the rest of the cast are so good, I almost want to recommend that you go just for their performances. After all, it’s the journey, not the destination, that counts. That is, unless you’re making a murder mystery.

The rage expressed onscreen is understandable, and even cathartic. We can live vicariously through the vengeance of others.

The flashbacks and overbearing music serve as this film’s emotional core, and the result rings false and superficial.

None of this is visually compelling, and “Mercy” plays like it was written as an AI system’s prompt response.

Once again, Fastvold and Corbet have crafted a movie I admired more than I liked.

The Brits do this kind of light and dark juggling act better than almost anybody (see “Billy Elliot” or “The Full Monty”), and the filmmakers and their cast deliver a movie that’s perfect for viewing on a lazy Sunday afternoon at the movie theater.

Fiennes has an excellent rapport with Lewis-Parry, making their scenes as compelling and moving as anything “28 Years Later” had to offer. It’s too bad that every time the Samson-Kelson plotline gets good, we’re yanked back to dopey Jimmy’s goofy gang and its religious mumbo jumbo.

The cast is uniformly good, and the stories are intriguing.

Dern is excellent, as usual, and her scenes with Arnett feel realistic. The screenplay by Cooper, Arnett, and Mark Chappell is really thin, however, and I didn’t find any of these people compelling.

Bi Gan’s Resurrection is trippy cinema at its best, a nearly three-hour deep dive into experimental cinema.

The dudes all have blinders on in this movie. It appears that the only people to see things clearly are the women characters, which makes Miri’s final act the most shocking one of all.

There is nothing I dislike more than a movie that demands that you love an obnoxious, insufferable protagonist. Marty Supreme is not only one of the worst examples of this phenomenon, it’s also one of the worst movies of the year.

Song Sung Blue leans too far into biopic tropes, and Brewer rushes through tragic and life-changing events far too quickly for a film that runs almost 2½ hours.

There’s a real identity crisis going on here. I can’t tell if director Tom Gormican is making a new horror comedy based on the original movie, a straight remake, or a feature-length fan fiction controlled by its characters.

Basically, “Avatar: Fire and Ash” is the same movie as “Avatar: The Way of Water,” the franchise’s prior installment. The only difference is that fire is the primary element, and the new villain looks like a gigantic, enraged chicken.

All in all, “The Secret Agent” feels like a memory play filtered not only through its director’s reminiscences but through the cinema’s past as well.

Thankfully, Ella McCay is not as bad as its predecessor. Had this film been a total disaster, it would be easier to dismiss. But every so often, there are glints of the James L. Brooks brilliance I loved so much.

Love it or hate it, “Hamnet” will get a response out of you that you won’t easily shake. I was equally moved and horrified, and I loved every minute of it. As Hamlet would say, the rest is silence.

I couldn’t help but see a parallel between the De’Snakes’s plight and numerous historical atrocities where minorities were slandered, brutalized, and robbed of their rightful property. That Disney somehow manages to deliver this message, Trojan-horse style and without heavy-handedness, in an entertaining feature for all ages, is the true success of “Zootopia 2.”

Wake Up Dead Man is one of the year’s best movies. I’ve enjoyed all three movies, but this one is the best of the “Knives Out” mysteries so far.

I’ve said this a million times before, so it will sound familiar: All a rom-com needs to work is characters you want to see end up together. “Eternity” fails this test big time.

Rental Family is the kind of movie that should not work at all. It takes an unusual premise, one ripe for oversentimentality, and then strikes the perfect balance between heartwarming and heartbreaking.

Jay Kelly would make a good double feature with “Sentimental Value,” another film about a driven moviemaker seen from the perspective of the daughters, not the father. I think this film is the better of the two, even if it is more conventional in its storytelling.

This movie is a raging, unwatchable bore, filled with unnecessary details and interminable ramblings. Though it runs a mere 76 minutes, it feels like 76 hours.

Like its predecessor, Wicked: For Good benefits greatly from the fact that its two leads are fantastic singers, and its director knows how to stage a musical number.

We’re asked to believe in the healing power of art, and the performances sell the idea well enough for us to commit.

Director Edgar Wright’s version is a more serious affair that not only has a duller hero than its predecessor, it’s also a half-hour longer.

Rami Malek and Russell Crowe lead a cast of actors doing excellent work in this large scale, old school ensemble piece.

Most franchises use a cookie-cutter approach to their entries, so it’s refreshing when a sequel tells its story in a different tenor than its predecessors. On that note, “Predator: Badlands” is a rousing success.

This is a gorgeous movie to look at, to listen to, and to experience on an emotional level.

The writing is coy when it should be direct, and the characterizations of the main antagonists are so broad that it reduces Martin to victim-like status.

I found it too repetitious at times, and Hamid’s constant raving, though understandable, wore thin. Despite those flaws, this is still a good film — and an important one worth seeing.

Nouvelle Vague succeeds in giving you a feel for the films it’s documenting and paying homage to, without the pretentiousness and snobbery those films are accused of conveying. It’s a welcoming gateway drug for newcomers curious about its subject.

If only this movie weren’t as slow as a sleepwalkng turtle. The story is constructed like one big, dark joke whose punchline isn’t worth sitting through 110 minutes to hear.

By giving his actors a three-dimensional world, del Toro sparks their imaginations — and ours. The result is a beautiful, bittersweet, and occasionally horrific look at what it means to be human.

Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere has enough good material to make you wish it were better. Unfortunately, it owes debts to the biopic genre that no honest film can pay.

This is a film about a professional divorce, not a romantic one. The fallout is just as painful.

It’s a daring choice to force audiences to spend 2 hours with someone they won’t like, but “If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You” is more of an experiment than an empathy machine. It overstays its welcome by at least 30 minutes.

Good Fortune showcases the virtues of the goofball side of Keanu Reeves. With all that great John Wick action, it’s easy to forget just how charming and lovable Reeves can be when playing an average joe or a misfit.

Dillane is onscreen for the entire film, and he gives a performance that will stick with you long after the symbolism-laced last scene.

Nora Garrett’s screenplay isn’t concerned with fleshed out characters; everyone here is a stand-in for some issue designed to get a rise out of the audience.

Watching J.Lo make movie magic for the captive audience on both sides of the screen reminded me why I watch movies, and how revisiting my favorite films has kept me sane and happy in this bitter little world.

To say that Oscar winners Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross go hard on the music would be an understatement. There were times when their beats vibrated through my theater chair, goosing me into thinking “Tron: Ares” is better than it is. Their contribution propels the action and makes you believe in the visual bedlam unfolding before you.

If only this movie were as interesting as the truth. Tatum’s sparkling charm can only take him so far; the script, by Cianfrance and Kirt Gunn, spends way too much time on a romantic subplot filled with sitcom scenarios and uninteresting characters.

McConaughey and Ferrera have chemistry and serve their roles well. The endangered children all start to blur together, though Nathan Gariety stands out as Toby, a scared 7-year-old who bonds with McKay. But you’re not watching “The Lost Bus” for deep characterizations. You’re watching it for the action. On that basis, Greengrass and company deliver the goods.

Living up to her surname, Blunt doesn’t just chew and swallow the scenery, she regurgitates it and chews it again. Along with the bad writing given to her character, she singlehandedly torpedoes “The Smashing Machine.”

Pain plus impatience does not make for a favorable review, even if the film marks the return of one of our greatest living actors.

Contrary to Gil Scott-Heron’s song, the revolution of “One Battle After Another” feels more televised than live. After 161 minutes of it, I was tempted to turn the channel.

Eleanor the Great is one of the worst and most distasteful movies I’ve seen in a long while.

The History of Sound is even more repressed than its characters, and at over two hours, that’s far from entertaining.

I’m not implying that a horror movie needs to be coherent to deliver the chills — watch any J-Horror movie for proof that this concept can work. But “HIM” doesn’t even try to be scary. It’s too busy bombarding us with nonsensical, quickly flashed images that divulge nothing.

This time, director Rob Reiner and his cast take aim at comeback concerts and the documentaries they often spawn. In other words, “Spinal Tap II” is both a satire and an example of what it’s satirizing.

The script, by JT Mollner, does an excellent job streamlining King’s book.

The romantic love triangle dramedy “Love, Brooklyn” is more than just a visual showcase for the favorite borough of the average New York City hipster. It’s also an unabashed devotional to the interior design of the Brooklyn brownstone.

Unfortunately, “The Roses” is a toothless take on the material. The stakes are never as high as they were in the 1989 movie, and the film takes too much time trying to humanize these people. By the time they’re actively trying to sabotage and murder one another, the movie has completely lost its nerve. The end result feels rushed and weak-willed.

Honey Don’t!, the neo-noir by director Ethan Coen and his wife, co-writer Tricia Cooke, is an unsatisfying mishmash of plot threads that neither intrigue nor coalesce.

This isn’t really for kids (I’d say it’s PG-13 level), and it’s so entrenched in its country’s myth-making that I wonder if sheer spectacle alone will be enough to entice American viewers.

This entertaining and informative documentary just might make you a fan as well.

Once again, Odenkirk is lots of fun as filmdom’s most unexpected purveyor of brute force.

This is one of the year’s best films. It’s also one of Lee’s finest joints.

My Mother’s Wedding neatly juxtaposes its subplots with the joyous event that serves as its centerpiece.

I liked the “Freaky Friday” remake. It had some real emotional heft to it, much of it due to the excellent performances by Curtis and Lohan. This time, all the characters are one-note, especially the teenagers.

Directors Pierre Perifel and JP Sans keep the action moving while allowing the performers and the animators to shine.

Nothing will replace the original in your hearts and minds. But you’ll still have a good time here.

As it adds extraneous characters, “Oh, Hi!” becomes so frustrating and unbelievable that I wanted to yell advice at the screen.

Fantastic Four: First Steps alternates between battle sequences that you’ve seen countless times and interminable scenes of exposition disguised as emotional beats. The actors play this poorly written material as if they were doing Ibsen, which is commendable, but their attempts fail because you truly don’t give a damn about their plight.

Your kids will probably love this movie, which means you’ll be watching it often. Excuse me while I giggle with unSmurflike malice.

Despite a high body count, director-cowriter Jennifer Kaytin Robinson’s version is not gory enough to satiate gorehounds. The atmospheric cinematography, by Elisha Christian, and the bombastic score, by Chanda Dancy, fail to accompany or elicit a single good scare.

Familiar Touch accomplishes a lot in just around 90 minutes. By no means should you expect a wallow in misery. Like its protagonist, the film refuses to go gentle into that good night. Its defiance is tempered with dignity and grace.

Seeing Superman save, and work with, more than just white people is refreshing, but it really struck a nerve with fans who rely only on hearsay. Gunn doesn’t care if you’re offended; he’s too busy showing us a good time. “Superman” is a surprisingly entertaining reboot.

There are no grandiose moments here, only little ones that, cobbled together, create a moving and profound experience.

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.

It’s sad when a film wastes the talents of so many fine actors. Sad for us, that is, because I’m sure they were all paid handsomely.

Sing Sing refuses to pass any judgment while inviting the audience to acknowledge the incontrovertible fact that these people are humans just like us.

Dìdi reminds us that our parents aren’t just our parents — they’re people who have their own hopes and dreams. It’s not just about us.

Though “Twisters” lives up to the sequel maxim of being louder, larger, and busier, director Lee Isaac Chung (“Minari”) and screenwriter Mark L. Smith don’t deviate from the first film’s formula. Watching the sequel is like playing Mad Libs with the original’s plot.

As with any documentary where the star tells the story, “Faye” occasionally comes off a little lighter than a more objective look might have been.

Once the film started throwing in Satan worship, spooky dolls, and nuns with agendas the Pope would not endorse, it became more silly than disturbing. Still, I have to admire a filmmaker who, once realizing he’s painted himself into a corner, opts to bust through the wall rather than accept being trapped.

The reason romantic comedies fail so often is that they attempt too much. “Fly Me to the Moon” may be the busiest example I’ve ever seen. It’s also one of the worst, despite its eclectic needle drops convincing me that I need to buy its soundtrack album.

“Axel F” is a joyless affair, a mediocre simulacrum that made me long for the original.

It’s cheap pandering to fans, but I really couldn’t stay mad at a movie that uses Culture Club’s “Karma Chameleon” as a point of contention and has two shout-outs to one of the best movies of 1985, “Real Genius.”

Fans of Lanthimos’s works outside his Emma Stone movies will find “Kinds of Kindness” worth watching. As for the rest of us: You’ll start out clapping along with “Sweet Dreams,” but by the end, you’ll be singing Peggy Lee’s immortal question, “Is That All There Is?”

As usual, Gladstone is excellent, and she doesn’t mind ceding the spotlight to Deroy-Olson. The two craft a convincing family unit, one we don’t want to see broken. And though the film hits familiar plot beats, it loses none of its redemptive power.

A talky movie like this one succeeds only if its leads have chemistry and understand their characters. Both actors fit the bill, giving committed performances that elevate the material.

The trio give excellent performances, working together to create a credible family unit. Father and daughter hit their strides during their moments of catharsis onstage, which explains why audiences at Sundance reportedly laughed and cried during the climactic performance.

This is one of the year’s best films, and the most fun you’ll have at the theater this summer.

It felt like I was watching a Wayans Bros. movie instead of one that expected me to take the ideas of dying and grief seriously.

Inside Out 2 is serviceable entertainment. That’s a sad thing to say about a Pixar film, especially when you consider they made classics like “Toy Story,” “The Incredibles,” and, well, the first “Inside Out.”

Julia von Heinz’s direction can’t handle the film’s tonal shifts, and the screenplay (co-written by von Heinz and John Quester) centers on two very poorly written leads who clash in ways that are supposed to be comedic but are mostly infuriating.

Robot Dreams reminds us that animated feature doesn’t mean “movie for kids.”

There are plenty of things that go bump in the night. “The Watchers” proves they’re only effective if you don’t sleep through them.

Throughout the mayhem, Marcus and Mike bicker like an old married couple. While this interplay has always been the best element of the “Bad Boys” universe, Smith and Lawrence look disinterested this time. It’s as if they’re getting too old for this [expletive], to use a phrase from a much better buddy-cop movie series.

By the time the film settles down to give us a few solid dramatic scenes, I appreciated the effort but had long since stopped caring.

The film evokes all of the usual biopic tropes while painting a standard picture of an extraordinary hero.

Hit Man is one of the year’s best movies.

The somewhat inappropriate story won’t matter to youngsters who’ll be hypnotized by a color scheme so bright you need sunglasses to view it.

It’s a mechanical exercise that lacks suspense, is too long (at 148 minutes, it’s the franchise’s lengthiest film), and is so chockfull of exposition that I took more notes than I’ve done in years.

At its heart, this is a film about sisterhood.

The ambiguous finale provides neither certainty nor respite, and may prove frustrating for some. I had no idea where Hamaguchi’s cautionary tale was taking me, but I remained intrigued until the bitter end.

It’s a fable that ties up too neatly to be believed, and it’s a story I’m tired of hearing.

The Fall Guy isn’t just a throwback to the 1980s television show that inspired it; it’s an old-fashioned romp that knows how to build on its gags.

The film is essentially a two-hander between Norton and Lamont, both of whom give excellent, complementary performances. They feel like father and son from first frame to last.

“A place is the people,” a closing screen credit tells us. It’s a lovely sentiment, but “We Grown Now” feels more like fleeting memories of those people rather than a fully formed reminiscence.

The problem with “Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire” is the same as so many of these franchise-based films: They’re all soulless special-effects extravaganzas where CGI takes the place of character development, good writing, and emotional connection.

Seeing the Ghostbusters in the Big Apple where they belong put a smile on my face, at least until I realized I was watching a sitcom about wiseass teens and their dopey parents.

Despite an impressive pedigree in front of and behind the camera, “Shirley” fails to convey just how remarkable the career of Shirley Chisholm really was. The problem isn’t the narrow focus on one of her accomplishments, it’s the even narrower depiction of who she was as a person.

I generally love noir, gore, kick-ass women, the 1980s — but “Love Lies Bleeding” ladled out a visual stew I did not enjoy consuming.

For the first 90 minutes, the film has a light touch that centers its story and makes us identify with Shayda.

I should have been more affected by Arthur the King because, after all, “Old Yeller” conditioned my generation to erupt in tears whenever a dog’s fate looks dire. And yet, all I saw were the familiar gears churning underneath.

While uncertainty remains about Tenório’s horrible fate, it’s never in doubt how much he was beloved. “They Shot the Piano Player” is a tribute to the musician and to those who knew him best. See it more than once, and hope the theater plays it loud.

I enjoyed the first three adventures of the Dragon Warrior, but the best thing he can do now is to give this series a much needed skadoosh, sending it to rest in the cinematic spirit realm.

Just as in the first film, I was put off by the white-savior narrative (Stilgar’s fervent belief quickly becomes grating), and the Hans Zimmer score that sounds as if Arrakis were in the Middle East rather than space.

Io Capitano doesn’t try to convince viewers whether Seydou, Moussa, and all the other migrants have a right to seek a better life. What it does do, however, is tell their story in a way that makes them far more human and relatable than most of the news stories we see nowadays.

This entire film is a troll, a refreshing, claws-out swipe at anti-LGBTQ+ rhetoric and beliefs. It’s also a testament to the power of queer people in front of and behind the camera.

One of 2023′s best films, “The Taste of Things” is achingly romantic and devastatingly sad. You’ll spend the first two-thirds of this movie salivating, and the last third of it sobbing.

Johnson tries her best, and O’Connor is good for a few laughs, but “Madame Web” is a lost cause. The special effects are confusing and the action scenes are poorly edited. By the time we get a rote explanation of Webb’s powers, it’s too late to care.

Bob Marley: One Love opts to print the legend, but it will just make you want to listen to “Legend.”

If you love food porn, this movie will satiate your appetite for visions of French food while providing much insight into how that food is prepared.

Though the last third of the film feels rushed, and Bennebjerg’s performance hews dangerously close to mustache-twirling-villain territory, there is much to admire and enjoy here. Arcel has made the kind of cinematic spectacle Hollywood used to excel at, but doesn’t make anymore.

Argylle is a cynical cash grab that has the audacity to use that “new” Beatles song, “Now and Then” (itself a cynical cash grab pieced together with far more skill than this movie) as the basis for its score and the “love theme” for Aidan and Elly.

It’s not a fun time at the movies, but it’s an informative and worthy one.

This film isn’t terrible; it’s just empty. There are few things more disappointing than a genre movie that forgoes developing its intriguing premise to focus on cheap, failed attempts to thrill.

Driving Madeleine is held together by the funny and dignified performances of its two leads.

Though I enjoyed both films, I had the same problem with this “Mean Girls” as I did with the original: I didn’t know whom to root for as the story played out.

Samuel’s sophomore full-length feature is an ambitious misfire, a noble failure that starts off like “Monty Python’s Life of Brian” and ends like “The Passion of the Christ.”

Night Swim has its characters make infuriatingly asinine decisions to serve its plot.

It’s simultaneously cathartic and heartbreaking.

Driver and Cruz are perfect surnames for actors starring in a movie called “Ferrari.” That was just one of the many thoughts I had as the minutes slowly ticked by. At least the loud sound mix kept me awake.

The Color Purple ultimately works far better in pieces than as a whole. Considering those pieces contain some of the best moments I’ve seen in 2023, I’m able to put my concerns aside as a mildly nagging uncertainty.

Unfortunately, Durkin’s script is so shallow that every character is reduced to a simple sketch.

The satire isn’t as brutal as it could have been — and perhaps needed to be — but overall, I thought “American Fiction” was a rousing success that got me thinking about my own experiences.

Parents will be tortured by this film. If the whiny adult ducks and their even whinier kids don’t give them a headache, the garish animation will.

In a year of movies with bloated runtimes, Kaurismäki keeps his at a brisk and welcome 81 minutes, not one of which is wasted.