William Bibbiani

Tucked safely away from most of the cinematic universe shenanigans, Blue Beetle is a self-contained and smartly crafted film that ranks among the DCEU’s very best. Even though, admittedly, that doesn’t say nearly as much as it ought to.

Inu-Oh may get messy with its plotting, but that never dulls its impact. It’s a siren scream of a musical: angry and beautiful, rapturously animated and highly infectious.

I do heartily recommend you see Materialists, and that you see it for what it is, not what it kinda looks like from the outside, as pitched to you by the very sort of romance-commodification salespersons that Celine Song’s movie criticizes.

It’s got great heroes, a memorable villain, and more whimsy than is probably recommended by medical science. Which is to say, just the right amount of whimsy.

It’s immediate and specific and painful and impressive.

A deft combination of excitement and thoughtfulness, an excellent and unexpected film.

For a sequel to a nearly 30-year-old movie, Twisters miraculously stands out against the modern blockbuster landscape. Just like Twister did back in 1996. It’s the rare legacy sequel done right.

Making Waves: The Art of Cinematic Sound is a practically perfect primer for anyone interested in the history and craft of filmmaking, answering most of the pertinent, baseline questions while leaving plenty of room for supplemental research.

It’s no small compliment to say that 'Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire' is expertly crafted drivel.

Nia DaCosta’s smart, freaky sequel zooms in on the ongoing battle between sense and senselessness until it finds strong, connective tissue between science and religion.

The sort of feel good family film the House of Mouse used to know how to make before the middling box office for Mira Nair’s exquisite 'Queen of Katwe' made them panic and delete all their files on how to inspire young audiences.

This journey is more than just worthwhile. It’s powerful and it’s a joy.

Mimi Cave knows how to captivate and how to repulse, usually at the same time. She knows how to make us laugh and hate ourselves for laughing. “Fresh” is a breakneck emotional roller coaster, and like many roller coasters, it’ll also make your stomach churn.

It’s a great sports movie about the urge to be great at sports, and it’s one of the smartest movies the genre has produced in a long time.

For all the emotional resonance and action-packed blockbuster mayhem in Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3, it’s still got a lot of impish nonsense, jarring tonal shifts, and enough morbidity and outright gore that it’s now abundantly clear that the PG-13 rating doesn’t mean anything more. This is a movie that will probably traumatize some kids and maybe a few adults.

The director translates the overwhelming concept of genocide into intimate, daily struggles, and the horror is indisputable, and inescapable; if you ever thought such a historical horror was “unthinkable,” you’ll think again.

A popcorn-spilling, shriek-inducing, tricky little treat.

Creed III may not have the pure, unadulterated power of the original “Rocky” or the original “Creed” but it’s a worthy follow-up that takes chances and makes the most of them. It’s a sharply produced and emotionally raw film, anchored by exciting performances and impressive writing.

A heartwarming, horrifically violent homage to the most lovable dreck ever produced outside of the studio system.

Upgrade is an intense sci-fi action thriller with big ideas, incredible action and a remarkable lead performance.

"Scandalous” is a fast-paced documentary, packed with incident and information, as tantalizing as an old issue of the Enquirer itself.

It’s an exciting picture, a smart picture, a fascinating picture, and a wonderfully weird picture.

It’s an undeniably informative and vital documentary, which clearly illustrates a disturbing political farce that has been allowed to thrive for far too long. Which is to say, at all. Where Citizen K falls short is its depiction of Khodorkovsky, whose early indiscretions are breezed over as quickly as possible in order to get to his redemption.

The real show here is Herzog and Gorbachev, two of the most interesting people in the world, getting to know each other, asking the big questions, fumbling through small talk, and becoming friends.

On one hand, Goldhaber’s film is a terrifying, stark, oppressive horror film that outscares the other modern slashers. On the other it’s an intelligent treatise on the grim obsession we have with being obsessively grim.

Instant Family is a decent, involving, endearing story, with funny performances and heartfelt, entirely earned dramatic crescendoes.

It’s not that The Long Walk has made walking terrifying — although certainly it’s a fraught and frightening walk. It’s that it makes every trudge through every day remind us of torture.

An intimate and sensual and highly forking successful debut from Amrou Al-Kadhi.

Crackles with manic energy, fed at every turn by exhilarating fight choreography and a thoroughly game cast. Hartnett carries the whole silly, bone-crunching enterprise masterfully.

Bad Times at the El Royale is vibrant motion picture, in a way few films are nowadays. One might even call it indulgent, although “decadent” is probably more accurate.

Michael Damian’s film has no nutritional value, but that’s by design: It’s a flaky dessert for the mind, and it’s irresistibly decadent.

The First Purge completely earns its action-packed and rousing finale, but getting there certainly takes a while.

If you knew Yechiun, or even if you just knew his films, it’s a sad and sweet catalog of his brief, inspirational life. If you didn’t know him, you’ll eventually feel like you did, and you’ll cry the kindest tears by the end, as you realize just how much he meant to the people who were in his orbit all along.

Living up to the legacy of Die Hard is a tall order, and Skyscraper never reaches those heights. But it's a gigantic and silly blockbuster matinee of a movie, with likable performances, absurd action sequences, and a heck of a lot of duct tape.

Bumblebee is, again and easily, the best “Transformers” movie. Heck, it’s probably the only genuinely good “Transformers” movie, with nary a caveat to be found. But it’s also a lively and earnest 1980s nostalgia trip, made with affection for the era and its characters and its soundtracks and its storytelling styles and, yes, even its toys.

Megadoc, whether it’s showing all there is to show or not, is a fascinating exposé of a filmmaker who risked everything so nobody could shoot down his ideas, only to shoot himself in the foot in the process.

There’s an argument to be made, and I’m willing to make it, that Kung Fu Panda 4 is the best film in this series.

It’s a film about hubris, selfishness, failed bureaucracies, and a stubborn inability to learn from past mistakes.

May very well be [Lithgow's] creepiest performance since Brian De Palma’s “Raising Cain” — and that’s saying something.

It’s not consistently hilarious but it is consistently imaginative, sometimes even breathtaking.

Anna and the Apocalypse is a delightful Christmas/horror/comedy/musical hybrid, with a great cast, entertaining gore and a storyline that’s easy to take seriously… even though it’s fundamentally absurd.

What’s clear is that as a stylist, Perkins is at the top of his game. Maybe even the top of anyone’s game. As a storyteller, he’s either a bold innovator or just slapping dream logic onto old-fashioned pulp.

The Rescue is an enthralling documentary, with a real-life story so spectacular you can hardly believe it. That’s why the film’s overwhelming polish sometimes undermines the real-life story it’s trying to tell.

Jack Quaid was born for a role like this. The actor’s unassuming cheerfulness provides the perfect comedic counterpoint to the film’s increasingly absurd gross-out action gags.

The film doesn’t take an extra step towards cinematic showiness, nor does it glamorize or sensationalize Berg’s life. It’s just a nice time talking about World War II and baseball, sharing stories and retelling old jokes. It’s a respectable ode to Berg’s unusual, remarkable life.

Alita: Battle Angel is Robert Rodriguez’s best film in many years. It’s an ambitious, impressive, visually spectacular production with great performances that make its strange world seem real.

Scott Cooper has directed a film with a gimmicky premise but genuine dramatic weight, anchored by handsome filmmaking and striking performances.

James Ponsoldt (“The Spectacular Now”) keeps his film permanently trapped in a liminal space between childhood and adolescence, where magic is real but intangible and largely metaphoric.

Although it’s hard to shake the sense that on a practical level this studio is just scraping the bottom of the barrel, desperately hoping their minor characters can be converted into headliners, they’ve done a damn good job of it.

The Ghost of Richard Harris approaches Harris’ life and career with humility, frankness and good humor.

It’s a little happy, a little sad, a little off-putting, a lot like going home again. And it’s always interesting.

Despite one wonky misstep, it captures some real magic.

As a fantasy, Gretel & Hansel is a delectably smart concoction, thoughtfully reevaluating the original tale, adding all-new layers of the ominous, and yet also keeping the story rooted in an amorphous, fairy tale past. As a horror movie, Perkins’ movie relies more on disquietude than external threat, and demands a thoughtful audience’s mental energies instead of a rowdy audience’s popcorn-spilling flinches.

The Sisters Brothers is almost as aimless as its title characters, but it's worth the journey. John C. Reilly and Joaquin Phoenix shine as wild west hitmen who are just smart enough to know they should be smarter, whose quest leads them in unexpected, funny, and surprisingly emotional directions.

Doesn’t have the depth of Shyamalan’s most important films or the theatricality of his most memorably weird experiments. But it’s one of his best thrillers.

What’s most impressive about Joker: Folie à Deux is the way Phillips willingly undercuts his own billion-dollar blockbuster. He’s looking inward. Arthur is looking inward. Hopefully the audience will too, and question why they care so much about Arthur Fleck in the first place.

Avery’s film is a solid piece of genre entertainment, grounded by excellent performances, and clever enough to find a new way to present the same old tropes. Like an old hunk of junk fixed and cleaned up, and made into something new again, and worth paying full price for.

It’s a diabolically odd horror comedy that keeps the giggles at a steady simmer until, eventually, they’re just right.

Gary Oldman gives an impeccable performance as Winston Churchill in a gorgeously photographed, suspenseful World War II film that suffers from too much hero worship.

Say what you will about the premise, but if you think that’s all there is to 'Goat,' you’re going to bleat those words.

Matt Shakman has done something Marvel Studios doesn’t do very well anymore. He’s made a superhero movie that embraces the 'super' part. And the 'hero' part. And the 'movie' part.

It’s still sweet, it’s still funny, it’s still freaky, and it’s still Friday. Thank God.

Although Omaha is powerful and ultimately depressing as all hell, there is a faint, faint, faint glimmer of hope. If not for the world around us, at least for the people in it.

100% pure Statham, and after many years where audiences had to settle for the diluted variety it’s a welcome return to form.

An impressive and nearly-comprehensive overview that will probably have something to teach almost everyone in the audience, regardless of how familiar they already are with the topic.

An ambitious comedy, not because it’s so big but because it’s so delicate. This film could crumble at any minute. It veers dangerously from misery to whimsy to horror to hope.

There’s no escapism here, just like there’s no escape from our final repose. But there is a sense that how we face mortality matters, and that maybe — after watching this strange and wonderful film — we’ll be better equipped for that moment.

There’s a confidence to She Rides Shotgun that many other movies can’t match, as though the filmmakers always knew exactly where to put their camera and how long to let it roll.

Allswell is one of those rare movies that feels less like a cinematic presentation and more like a personal invitation into someone’s home.

The story’s playful, subversive reinterpretation of 'The Wizard of Oz' as a work of propaganda, designed to obfuscate the true story of how political dissidents and minority groups are demonized by fascist con artists who trade in theatricality instead of competence, is fully developed and still (to our collective dismay) incredibly salient.

It’s a playground for the filmmakers and audience alike, a fantastical space where anything can happen, whether it’s silly or badass or both.

It’s a deeply personal documentary, candidly reflective and disinterested in flattery. It brings titans down to Earth.

Reminds those of us in similar situations that these painful paths are well traveled, and that the outward success we think might fill the holes in our souls usually turns out to be an excuse to push ourselves even harder. That’s why we cry sometimes when we’re lying in beds, just to get it all out, what’s in our heads.

Any movie that reminds you, simultaneously and favorably, of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation and Michael Mann’s Thief is doing something very right — even if it looms a lot lower than those towering works of genius.

It’s What’s Inside understands the concept of sympathy, but with people like this, the movie advises against it.

Glorious, angry, hilarious, nail-biting fun from a director, writer and cast who all know exactly what they’re doing, and relish in the fact that they’re practically getting away with murder.

Damsel is viciously whimsical, if such a thing is possible, and it’s thrillingly subversive. But the punchline comes early, and it’s only repeated as the film progresses.

It may not provide the rush of adrenaline that many people seek from their horror movies but Mr. Harrigan’s Phone is a smart and elegant piece of creepiness.

Malignant might not hold up to scrutiny but by the time all its mysteries are revealed, it’s clear that it was never supposed to. It’s an absurdly entertaining frightfest with a heavy emphasis on the absurd, and thank heaven — or hell — for it.

Sovereign is some of Offerman’s most complex and disturbing work. It’s a fine film, too.

Morgan Neville may have made the latest in a long line of giant LEGO commercials, but he’s made one with real human decency and soul.

Marshall’s Hellboy is a horrifyingly good time. It captures the breathless quality of reading 30 issues of a single comic-book series in one sugar-addled afternoon, shoving as many amazing characters and storylines and images into one film as it can possibly hold. It could have seemed overstuffed and frenetic, but this new “Hellboy” instead comes across as imaginative and freewheeling.

It’s an engaging slasher movie amusement park ride – but just like any amusement park ride, it’s not as exhilarating the sixth time around, it probably won’t impress you with its subtext, and you can usually see the ending coming around the bend.

The House With a Clock in Its Walls is easily Eli Roth’s best motion picture, and that’s not an attempt to damn the film with faint praise. It’s a spooky and amusing piece of family-friendly Halloween cinema, sharply produced and mostly effective, told with skill and panache.

Writer-director Mariama Diallo’s debut feature Master doesn’t just blur the lines between the horror genre and institutionalized racism; it convincingly argues that there’s no meaningful difference.

Roberts wraps his audience around his finger and then points us in the direction of gruesome, darkly humorous devilry.

It is, most importantly, amusing and creative. It may not follow its storylines to the most logical conclusions, and it may not reinvent the action movie as we know it. It’s still an enjoyable blockbuster sequel that tries to infuse the original idea with a couple new ideas, while setting the stage for more exciting adventures to come.

The Happytime Murders may not be a timeless classic on par with Roger Rabbit, but it’s more interesting and nuanced than its raunchy, violent humor suggests. The puppeteering is fantastic, the characters are interesting, and although the story isn’t ingenious the jokes are usually funny.

Vice is a funny and vicious political commentary, revealing in clear, thrilling detail a man whom filmmaker Adam McKay considers one of the most insidious and dangerous political figures of the last fifty years. But that viciousness also makes Vice one-sided, even reductive.

The Eggers Brothers have a canny way of balancing those wildly different tones. We’re frightened for each character, even when we point and giggle at them. It’s a twisted film.

There are no small parts in a Michael Showalter movie. Every actor is a star when they’re on camera.

Whenever the filmmaker’s emphasis is on the sinful humanity of these men of God, reducing them to Machiavellian backstabbers, it’s a satisfying and absorbing yarn. When it tries to say something profound — while refusing to acknowledge the many elephants who populate the Vatican’s many rooms — it makes cardinal errors.

A sadistic delight, just like its predecessor.

The Girl in the Spider’s Web is such an absorbing airplane novel of a movie that you half expect to walk out of the theater and into O’Hare International. Your flight was on time, and the turbulence was totally badass.

Greutert’s film brings back the core elements that made these movies work. It’s an uncomplicated, effective horror thriller, even though it’s trapped itself in the past with nowhere else to go.

The Greatest Showman is wildly entertaining even when it’s spectacularly false, which is a lot of the time. But everyone is enjoying themselves on-screen, so you might as well enjoy yourself too.

Alpha comes close to greatness, specifically that rare kind of greatness that we reserve for timeless epics, or at least gorgeous Frank Frazetta illustrations. The story and protagonist aren’t quite rich enough to take it to the next level.

It’s a film about a bleak and cruel universe that is unkind to victims and eager to ignore reasonable pleas, a world that has a conscious and subconscious vendetta against women in general. It’s also a film that thinks it’s entirely possible to destroy that world, as terrifying as it is, and ultimately, it’s the movie’s principled strength that endures.