Richard Roeper

In the hands of the Danish director Tobias Lindholm and screenwriter Krysty Wilson-Cairns (“1917,” “Last Night in Soho”) and thanks in large part to the towering twin performances of the equally chameleon-like Chastain and Redmayne, The Good Nurse is a solid albeit conventional medical thriller that overcomes a few plodding stretches and ends in bittersweet fashion.

The Scotsman who often plays majestic characters and the Texan who specializes in playing antiheroes play beautifully off one another in writer-director Rodrigo Garcia’s offbeat gem, which starts like an adaptation of a Sam Shepard play before eventually settling into something a little more conventional, but nonetheless satisfying.

Stars at Noon is all sweaty style with very little true substance.

They say this is Halloween Ends. I say: Can we get that in writing?

Even as TÁR delivers as an intellectually soaring, elaborately constructed and passionate tribute to the technical AND emotional joys of playing, conducting and appreciating beautiful music, it also becomes a knowing and timely #MeToo fable.

In Till, we see how Emmett had music in his heart and a bounce in his step and was just beginning his life’s path when monsters came calling in the middle of the night — and we’re once again filled with admiration for Mamie Till-Mobley, who made sure we never forgot.

It’s exciting to revisit the battles, starting with a blowout of a tough Greece team, a victory over the talented Argentina squad, and the epic final battle against Spain.

While the material at times veers close to exploitation, Knoll’s writing and Kunis’ performance ensure this is ultimately a tale of survival and perseverance — of a victim who refuses to let that label define her.

Every character in To Leslie feels “lived-in.” Every scene rings true, sometimes in surprising ways.

In the case of David O. Russell’s jaw-droppingly terrible, aggressively tasteless, profoundly unfunny and interminably dull conspiracy thriller and would-be comedy “Amsterdam,” the all-star ensemble has less chemistry than a high school freshman on the first day of class.

We’re gifted with the powerful and comprehensive documentary, Punch 9 for Harold Washington, which serves as an invaluable reminder of that time in Chicago and American history for those of us who were around in the early 1980s, and a must-see piece of living history for younger generations.

It’s an invaluable look at a complicated and often misunderstood artist who is more than the usual talking points of “Nothing Compares 2 U” and “ripped up a picture of the pope on ‘Saturday Night Live.’ ”

Mona Lisa and the Blood Moon plays like a graphic novel come to life. Everything has a heightened sense of color, and the soundtrack pulses with banger tunes and wall-rattling EDM.

The intentions and performances are irrefutably sincere and noble. The execution almost always feels a little bit forced and a little bit false.

To be sure, this is a special moment for movies, seeing as how this is a mainstream, theatrical release, R-rated gay rom-com featuring a cast of LGBTQ actors, and of course we should salute that — but for all its forward-thinking casting, cutting-edge references, sexual frankness and cultural awareness, “Bros” should also be celebrated for creating an instant near-classic of the genre, filled with so many of the touchstones we’ve come to expect from romantic comedies and featuring crisp writing and a host of richly layered performances from actors who can handle quick comedy as well as legit drama.

You might not buy all the plot machinations, but as for the sight of Weaver and Kline together again: That’s an easy sell.

It’s a memorable performance in a film that wants to dazzle us with its trick bag of visuals but is rotten at its core.

Beneath its glossy surface, this is nothing more than a cheap parlor trick, with heavy-handed messaging about female empowerment, and a final act that is neither surprising nor remotely plausible, and not nearly as shocking as it was surely intended to be.

Cuoco and Davidson make for an endearingly offbeat, magnetic pairing; the two actors are up to the challenge of playing different shades within their respective characters.

This is yet another meta story with the characters commenting on the story as it goes along, and while that gimmick is becoming tiresome, this is solidly constructed piece of lightweight entertainment with terrific period-piece costumes and sets, and suitably theatrical performances from a talented cast that is clearly enjoying itself while delivering a quality spoof.

This is a slick-looking film with a gorgeous cast and a sprinkling of funny one-liners, but the dark comedy often falls flat, nearly every character is a one-dimensional cliché and the redemption story defies credibility, even in a well-dressed social satire.

Pearl isn’t really about the jump scares and tropes we see in so many horror films. It’s more of a case study of a disturbed mind going completely off the rails, filled with ghastly images (you can imagine what happens to a roast pig left on the porch for days) and exquisitely constructed tension-build moments.

For all its stylistic flourishes, “The Silent Twins” winds up a relatively superficial entry in the genre of mental health biopics.

Director Gina Prince-Bythewood’s stirring and sprawling period-piece epic “The Woman King” is groundbreaking in that it tells the story of the legendary, real-life, all-female West African warrior unit known as the Agojie, but also quite traditional in that it follows the blueprint of blockbuster action sagas such as “Braveheart,” “Gladiator” and “Rob Roy.”

It might be another 30 years before we get the next “Fletch,” but if Hamm is up for a repeat appearance, I’d be more than pleased to come along for the ride.

Clerks III is a darkly funny, bittersweet curtain call for some undeniably enduring characters we first met back in 1994 when Smith famously turned an investment of $27,575 into a black-and-white indie breakthrough hit and then revisited in the 2006 sequel.

End of the Road was produced for maybe 10% of the budget allotted for the big, bloated, star-studded Netflix thrillers “The Gray Man” and “Red Notice” (both reportedly cost some $200 million to make), and it doesn’t come close to approaching the glamour value, breathtaking location shots and epic action sequences of those two films — but it’s better at executing its mission, which is to immerse us in 90 minutes of old-fashioned bloody vigilante satisfaction.

Every frame of “Pinocchio” is filled with rich and lush detail — at times this almost looks like a 3-D film — and the performances, whether live action or voiced, are universally excellent.