Rodrigo Perez

Ron Howard arguably captures it in his enjoyable, escapist ‘Solo’ movie, but the burden of keeping fans happy means if you’re looking for surprises, you may have come to the wrong place.

Well-drawn and intimate, Miller’s best observations come incidentally; Five Star explores ideas and relationships rather than spelling them out.

When it rides off into the sunset, what you’re left with is a diverse, reimagined fable of iniquity, holy retribution, and comeuppance that is as entertaining as it is surprisingly soulful.

The Founder certainly does not reinvent the meal, but as a bite sized, consumable snack (that feels like 90 minutes though is actually much longer), its lively and entertaining spirit does often hit the spot. And surprisingly, though traditionally told, the narrative does unwrap a deceptive bite along the way.

It’s an audacious odyssey that buckles under the weight of all its ornate and flights of quirky fancy. But if you’re a cynical optimist that’s disgusted with the rise of despotism, absolutism, rancid lies, revolting white supremacist beliefs but still wants to believe in humanity, hope, and the goodness of people, it might just strike a major chord.

As uneven as the psychodrama can be at times, one thing is clear, Ross is a major talent worth watching. He’s got an eye, a strong p.o.v., and the movie has many perceptive observations about the self-destructive perils of possessiveness, ownership, and holding on too tight.

An engaging and initially very promising drama about alcoholism, redemption and forgiveness that grows uneven and long-winded as it progresses.

More of a treasured time capsule for die-hard fans than a primer for newcomers, nevertheless, It’s All Gonna Break remains an authentic portrait of a radiant, messy, and ultimately triumphant collective that defied the odds and stayed alive.

You may hate All The Money In The World, and you would be well within your rights to feel that way, but there’s no denying that the film is bold and ballsy.

Peck’s genuine admiration for the sharpness and clarity of Orwell’s writing, combined with the rich tonality of Damian Lewis’ narration, gives the author as grandly respectful a presentation as “I Am Not Your Negro” did for James Baldwin. If “Orwell: 2+2=5” gets one more person to discover Orwell’s work for themselves, then its job will have been accomplished.

Room has unforgettable, must-witness performances, and its soulful mother and son narrative is one of the most touching dynamics you’ll see in theaters this year.

The Yes Men Are Revolting is an entertaining and interesting examination of the anxieties that make us question who we are and if we’re making a difference. But on the whole, this minor film is not nearly as imperative as the vital activism these guys have dedicated their lives to.

Seedy, unsettling and nightmarish, director Gerard Johnson crafts a suspenseful and anxious journey despite the destination pointing to obvious points well known.

Mond’s film doesn’t feature traditional structure or many familiar character beats of self-improvement, but as a visceral, in-the-moment portrait of struggle and suffering, it’s a striking first film.

The Phoenician Scheme, for all its involved branches, never really comes together deeply or meaningfully. Still, it remains charming and entertaining nonetheless.

Clinical in nature and matter-of-fact (but still affecting), The Assistant is essentially a procedural about being a personal assistant to a powerful Hollywood man and all that entails.

Spielberg ever-so-gently presses on the gas of nostalgic idealism enough times that he blemishes what might have been a pitch-perfect movie.

Spanning across several continents, and obviously decades, Days Of Future Past feels vast and epic in scope. But as large as the movie is, it never loses sight of character and themes (at least the ones that matter).

Digging For Fire is low-lit and pitched in a minor key, a quiet meditation on compromise, individuality, the loss of identity within a marriage, and the aftermath of disorientation that comes with having children and losing touch with your former life.

A paean to the unsung, Hidden Figures is also a romanticized tribute to everyday problem solvers who, in the movie’s eyes, are their own kind of superheroes.

While Dirty Weekend may not quite live up to its title and is certainly his least tart effort to date, the film's milder flavor and less acidic aftertaste is mostly a pleasurable switchup.

Somehow, Scott manages to balance it all: meditations on being made in god’s own image, the fan service of “Alien Origins: Xenomorphs,” and feminist agency. Balance doesn’t necessarily mean execution though. There’s friction with all these ideas fighting for airtime.

Richard Linklater's Before Midnight isn't the most digestible picture, but its challenging, funny, painful, very present and alive depiction of relationships at 40 is so honest and real that we wouldn't have it any other way.

Is This Thing On? isn’t perfect. It stumbles where it should soar. But it’s alive with feeling, and that counts for something.

Bridge Of Spies is one-third courtroom drama and two-thirds Cold War thriller, and while an engaging watch thanks to fine actors and terrific filmmaking, it’s not without its issues.

Throughout its trials and tribulations, Wild Life softly asks the question: what kind of life do you want to live? What kind of legacy do you want to leave behind? And these kinds of inspired actions certainly move the heart and soul and prove that the best of humanity has their heart in the right place at the very least.

In the end, Widow Clicquot is a drama about turning heartbreak and tragedy into something brighter, richer, and spilling over into good fortune. And it’s tastefully made too.

A genuinely sweet, charming and funny tale of identity lost and found.

‘Final Reckoning’ might not be the perfect note to end this elaborate action symphony on, but as a sustained chord of passionate peril, intrigue, friendship and the wrenching expenses of keeping the world safe, hell, you could still do a lot worse.

Ultimately, as inconsequential as it all is, Rogue Nation is not pretending to be anything it isn’t. And as a sensory escapist experience with laughs, pleasures, and excitement, Rogue Nation will likely be a most satisfying mission audiences choose to accept repeatedly.

It’s McAdams’ believability, even tangibly intense commitment to this absurd role, that really sells Dobkins’ winning film and makes it sing sonorously, warts and all.

Comedy enthusiasts will love the look back on the groundbreaking magazine, its talented players, and the way the doc captures its irreverent spirit.

If this E6 portrait gets anything right it’s the chaotic creativity that seemed to burst out of many of its members like exploding sunlight their bodies could not handle as if something out of a kooky sci-fi film.

The Walk is broadly written with two clunky first acts that are saved, arguably superseded entirely, by its nerve-wracking, majestic and spectacular finish.

While its story is thin, its emotional undercurrent has a strong pull with poignantly topical notions of empathy, grief, and mercy.

The Drama remains a vital, bleak, and admirably mean-spirited look at the cost of being known and, more expensively, the price of trying to save face. It doesn’t fully cash in on the nastiness of its best idea, but it is funny, queasy, and wholly willing to make everyone miserable for your amusement. In an era of soft, therapeutic romantic storytelling, that alone gives it biting validation.

There’s great craft, impressive creature design, a lugubrious, eventually-soaring score by Max Richter, an excellent Paul Dano nailing the childlike tenor of his inquisitive creature, and low-key Adam Sandler sitting in the pocket, enjoying the chill ease of never overdoing it.

Victoria & Abdul is a movie that flirts with exploring prejudice, cultural tension, power, and religion, but never really consummates the ideas. At best, it tries to humorously dismantle the absurdity of empires and royalty, but that’s about as subversive as it gets.

Its craft can be impressive: Zobel’s film possesses a searing, slow burn tone that’s beautifully controlled. The movie is admirably patient and gives breathing room and space for these relationships to bloom believably and organically. But the build to a climax is far too slow and with little emotional payoff.

Somewhere You Feel Free certainly captures the spirit of the time, the sadness, the warm-heartedness, and the creative openness, but one could easily argue it doesn’t really add that much substantive value, beyond some of the making-of stories and what’s already there in the poignant grooves of the music.

It’s arguably Tarantino’s ugliest and most political film, but not his best by some distance.

Time Is Illmatic is comprehensive, even wisely holistic, but still feels as though something is missing; it’s as if in trying to cover the history, the music, the ecosystem, the upbringing and the man itself, each cancels out the other out, leaving only a surface exploration.

Spider-Man: No Way Home is maximalist, chock full of familiar characters and callbacks, and sometimes all that greatest-hits reminiscing is diverting and and entertaining. But it’s also not very necessary, making for a very regressive, fan-service-y ‘Spider-Man’ legacy-sequel that’s overly nostalgic for its heydays.

Ultimately pleasurable if very disposable, Homecoming offers strong teen dynamics and for once, serves up high school-sized stakes instead of placing the planet in peril.

Sure to baffle some, it’s a weird movie that isn’t actively weird, but what’s striking about the picture is Sobel’s point of view and confidence. While the movie is amorphous and porous, it’s clear this is exactly what the filmmaker is going for, and that’s certainly bold for a first timer.

While far from perfect, Welcome To Pine Hill works more often than it doesn’t and is an intimate and existential character study of a man out of place with his past, himself, and his surroundings, and the push and pull of former and future worlds beckoning him.

Evans at least provides enjoyable pandemonium in Havoc, which is not a perfect film by any means, but certainly more worthy than some of the Netflix originals that aren’t delayed and are delivered at your streaming front door immediately.

It takes a huge leap of faith to go along for the ride, but Boyle’s impassioned, viscerally paced, and well-directed movie is so heartfelt, even the biggest pessimist will likely begrudgingly warm to it, flaws, and off-key notes and all.

Eventually, the comedy coalesces enough to chalk up a small win. Mind you, Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F isn’t reinventing the wheel, and low expectations might help. But it does make a remarkable transition from something that initially feels dire to something that eventually lights up, pleases, and produces some foul-mouthed ‘Beverly Hills Cop’ energy to feel familiar in the best sense.

Aesthetically detached, clinical, and with murderousness always happening in broad daylight, Veni Vidi Vici might arguably be more clever than laugh-out-loud funny or insightful. Still, some of the facetious formalism goes a long way.

The film’s real revelation is that 14-year-old Alfie Williams. For all of the names in the picture, it’s an ensemble built around him, and Williams proves his mettle and will undoubtedly have a long and prosperous career after this film.

Atmosphere and feelings can only do so much when story, and its credible beats, seem to have fallen by the wayside.

Anyone who finds this conclusion a humanistic or socially reprehensible dealbreaker can hardly be faulted. Before these questionable issues come to a head and then falter in the finale, there is a lot of value in The Girl.

Dark Horse is crowd-pleasing and rousing, but its biggest problem is that no successive part of the documentary can sustain the power of its opening prologue.

No one tries to reinvent the wheel, and everyone plays the greatest hits, steering things right off the cliff into explosive, slow-motion ecstasy, where ‘Bad Boys’ thrives and survives best.

Miles Ahead is well-intentioned and ambitious, but ultimately uneven, as it cannot redefine the structures its so desperately wants to break down.

Shang-Chi might get bogged down in the weight of water carrying -plot, legend, plenty of backstories, MCU connectivity, and the obligations of climatic superhero action that gets unwieldy, but in the end, it’s a winning film that’s likable and that quality goes a long way.

Every Secret Thing is not built to satisfy, and so its sour ending doesn’t help its uneven experience. Every Secret Thing is not unlike last autumn's abduction drama "Prisoners." Both demonstrate an excellent level of craft and are handsomely shot and composed, but both suffer from narrative issues.

While “Frida” does show signs of promise, especially when it leans into the distinctive, and Kahlo’s penchant for magical realism, it’s never as vibrant as her. One wishes the doc could similarly unshackle itself, match the artist’s radiant spirit, and push itself into the next innovative frontier.

It’s a classic “Predator” film in many ways, subverting the paradigm slightly by featuring a new context: a Native American female warrior at its center, Naru (a persuasive Amber Midthunder, full of conviction). But as fresh as Prey does feel in this new warpaint on the surface, the film does feature a lot of inherent, built-in limitations.

Thor: Love & Thunder can be enjoyable in spots, but disposably and inconsequentially so.

Well-intentioned and intimate, Alex Of Venice has its heart in the right place; its pains and struggles might be small stakes and personal, but they’re very genuine, relatable and universal. There’s a lot to admire, which is why the movie’s uneven grasp of narrative fundamentals is so frustrating.

It’s a strange and odd, film, alternatively admirable and gripping, and also flat and one-dimensional.

For all its problems, Bourne is still thrilling and an undoubtedly engrossing action film thanks to its taut construction.

An admirable and touching picture, Last Days In The Desert can be deeply moving in moments, but as restrained and elegant as it is, the picture never quite transcends.

For all its bluster, end-of-doom stakes, gravitas and super-seriousness, what Whedon’s movie does best is communicate its concern for the all the human beings touched by this story: the broken, nearly shattered heroes, their extended families and even the civilians caught in the crosshairs.

There's a great movie somewhere inside Touchy Feely desperately trying to swim to the surface, but its obscurity also comes with an inarticulateness that robs it of its potential.

First Cow is faint, deliberately paced filmmaking where you can often hear a pin drop. But in its tiny way, the modest and gentle little film is moving and poetic.