Instead, the story is largely told from Dahmer’s perspective, and we know too much about where he ends up to feel anything like sympathy for him. It’s still a morbidly fascinating peek behind the blood-stained curtains.

Last Flag Flying is a movie about a long road trip that sometimes feels like a long road trip — it's sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes poignant, and while the destination is never in doubt, occasionally the company drives you a little crazy.

This is a fully realized film, with a confident eye and lived-in performances. What a treat.

LBJ, Rob Reiner's film, benefits greatly from an absolutely all-in performance by Woody Harrelson as the former president. But it also benefits from the current president, or at least the current administration.

Despite its familiarity, A Bad Moms Christmas is a touch better than the first bacchanal.

Thor: Ragnarok is a blast, pure and simple.

Suburbicon is a hybrid of two ideas — two movies, really — and it isn't clear whether either would have worked separately. What is clear is that they don't work together.

It's a gorgeously sterile film, fascinating to look at, sometimes painful to watch. The performances are outstanding; yet the actors, including Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman, are toned down almost comically, often giving robotic line readings to empty bromides.

Jane is a compelling movie, one that shows us not just more of the world, but also our place in it.

Hall is a workmanlike director, taking a meat-and-potatoes approach to the story. But it fits the subject matter here. Thank You for Your Service is not a great movie by any stretch. But it is a good one, and perhaps more importantly, a necessary one.

Strange, surreal and compelling, All I See Is You is a dreamy exploration of a marriage, and what happens when all of its imbalances and insecure quirks are suddenly thrust out in the open. It’s also something of a thriller, and the two worlds don’t mesh in a way that is completely satisfying. Still, it’s riveting to watch everything unfold.

It’s an action movie without an exciting moment. It’s a special effects flick with chintzy visuals. And it’s a Gerard Butler vehicle without enough Gerard to go around.

While Leatherface, a prequel directed by Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury (“Inside”), works OK as a gory horror film (necrophilia, beheading, partial defenestration and beating eaten alive by pigs are a few of the delights), it makes less sense as part of the surprisingly (and needlessly) expansive “Texas Chainsaw” universe, as it were.

These are fantastic performances, even if they’re painful to watch. Una isn’t pretty, but it is powerful.

Breathe is a valentine, but it's a valentine that is quite moving.

The Snowman is like if aliens studied humanity and tried to make their own movie in an attempt to communicate with us. This simulacrum contains all the requisite pieces of a movie, but humanity got lost in translation.

When telling the story of real-life heroes, it’s easy to lapse into clichés. What makes the terrific Only the Brave such a powerful movie is its abject rejection of them.

Once you get past the premise — and granted, that takes some doing — Happy Death Day turns out to be goofy good fun.

Visually you can certainly call the film a breakthrough.

Sometimes infuriating but never depressing, The Florida Project doesn’t just shine a light on people rarely represented in anything but a condescending manner. Instead it brings us into their world and introduces us to its inhabitants in a meaningful way. We care about them.

Goodbye Christopher Robin is an emotionally layered story about failures in parenting that gave rise to one of our most enduring joys.

Robinson tells the story in a straightforward way, not quite breezy but definitely in mainstream fashion. You long for a little more grit; even the rough edges seem a little smooth.

Boseman and Gad are both good. Marshall drinks and smokes and fights in a bar; certainly that's a side of him we haven't seen before. If anything, he's portrayed as a little too good at his job, a risk-taker whose every courtroom hunch pays off. It's an interesting approach to the story, but it also holds the film back a bit.

It’s all joyous silliness, as a My Little Pony movie should be, packed with clean humor and pony puns.

Typically actors like Winslet and Elba can elevate even the most-pedestrian material, but making this story better would require a feat of superhuman strength.

Unfortunately, the name is the only thing emboldened about this starchy biopic, a dry, talky affair that even Liam Neeson in full glower can’t bring to life.

Co-writer and director Chris Peckover clearly knows his way around both the holiday and horror genres, and while this isn’t the first time someone has blended the two, it is one of the more-effective efforts. It’s scary and fun, if your idea of fun involves occasional gore and torture, things like that.

Lucky is one of Harry Dean Stanton’s last roles, a rare leading performance, and it is a treasure.

Things go from far-fetched to insane before it's over, and Vaughn wisely keeps the pace at a healthy clip. But never underestimate his power to floor you.

Blade Runner 2049 stands as its own film, in addition to a continuation of the sequel. It’s not the bolt out of the blue the first movie was, but how could it be? Instead, as the break between installments would suggest, it’s a furthering of not just the original story but the original world, and that’s quite an accomplishment.

It’s a fascinating story with particular contemporary relevance. And it should be better.

Agonizingly stupid and painfully illogical.

There’s daring in the film’s slow unfurling. The problem, though, isn’t one of patience but of payoff. Woodshock is beautiful but it’s all chassis, a root-dead tree that crumbles beneath the ax.

The film is a little too polished and slick to really provide the slap in the face of the U.S. government it intends to deliver. But as a means for Cruise to shake off the dust of movies like “The Mummy” for something more substantive, it more than succeeds.

The LEGO Ninjago Movie is a worthwhile entry into this growing universe, expanding it but not really evolving it. It’s fun, but not especially memorable.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a movie in search of a reason to exist. Despite a needlessly excessive running time, it never finds one.

What’s so terrific about Stiller’s performance is that we never question his genuine love for his son. He’s just got to work through his love for himself to get there.

The film, directed by Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton (“Little Miss Sunshine”), might have come off as too breezy were it not for the leads: Emma Stone as King and Steve Carell as Riggs.

It’s terrific. This was something of a surprise, as it seems almost impossible to tell this kind of story without a treacly narrative and clichéd notes of inspiration — against-all-odds kind of stuff, which so easily slips into melodrama.

The best thing is that Nichol doesn’t adopt a luddite stance. He doesn’t try to impart the evils of technology, at least not much. (Some people in the film lean that way.) He’s more inclined to chronicle the joys of a fading delight, one click-clack at a time.

Much of the film is inert, like a still life with dialogue. That’s not a detriment. That’s an invitation to see a movie whose beauty stays with you long after it ends.

Rebel in the Rye is Hollywood regular Danny Strong’s feature-film directorial debut, and it fumbles for a voice in tracking the life of a writer renowned for his.

Darren Aronofsky’s film pretty much defines “not for everybody.” He is here to challenge the audience as much as entertain it; happily, he does both, and with no half measures in either department. It is intriguing, frustrating, bizarre and over-the-top — way over. And yet when you leave, you can’t deny: There is a lot of movie going on here.

It's all-around generic, made notable by its weirdly schizophrenic tone. Sometimes it strives to be a character-driven thriller in the Jason Bourne mold. In other moments, it goes for over-the-top action and violence. But it's never very exciting.

Crown Heights is soul-shaking only in the abstract. In execution, it’s deathly dull.

Home Again is a romantic comedy with its heart in the right place. And that’s just about the only thing it has going for it. It’s facile, disingenuous, artificial in nearly every way.

This is a really fun movie. Good, too. Not great, but old-school in its approach to scares and, even better, in its approach to the relationships between kids, outsiders who band together to try to take down a monstrous evil. And maybe flirt a little while they’re at it.

Lafosse, along with actors Bérénice Bejo and Cédric Kahn, infuse the film with a brutal honesty that makes it, if not exactly enjoyable, certainly compelling.

It’s a big disappointment, not least because of its talented cast, and Bell’s obvious talents as a filmmaker.

Is Whose Streets? the only story we should see and hear about what went on in Ferguson and after? No. It’s by its nature incomplete, one side of the tale. What makes it important is that it is the side that too often goes ignored. But here, at least, no more.

Despite the film's predictable nature, it's hard not to become engaged. The performances are excellent and Härö directs with a clean hand, pushing toward a suspenseful, stirring climax that hinges on the team's success as well as Endel's freedom.

It is high-spirited, buoyant and full of laughs.

Pattinson is what helps us keep pace. He completely inhabits Connie with his jittery, twitchy efforts — he can’t stand still, so neither can we.

Aubrey Plaza is brilliant in Ingrid goes West, Matt Spicer’s smart, satirical and sometimes scathing takedown of the vapidity social media sometimes injects into life.

The film is, like its predecessors, funny. But the joke is starting to wear just a bit thin.

The cast, in particular Macdonald and Everett, rise above. However gritty the film may be, you want the best for these characters.

The cast is impressive, and again, Bridges is always a welcome presence.

Weinstein normally directs documentaries, and Menashe has a fly-on-the-wall feel at times, particularly in the warmly believable interplay between father and son.

Weird” is one word for it, and it certainly applies. But so does “creative,” “inventive,” “compelling” and, finally, “good.” Dave Made a Maze is all of those things, a one-of-a-kind movie from director and co-writer Bill Watterson.

I liked the movie — it’s certainly well made, and a lot of fun — but I mostly found myself laughing at it, not with it.

You might say the lack of a Hollywood narrative arc is both a strength and a weakness in this film, because Lipitz isn’t entirely clear about what story she is trying to tell.

Brigsby Bear is charming, sweet, creative, different and disturbing.

As with all of the films he writes, Sheridan takes us to places that are foreign to many of us, yet immerses us so deeply into the sense of place that everything feels familiar, recognizable. It’s a trip worth taking, making “Wind River” another stop on the unique cinematic travelogue Sheridan is building.

A surprisingly effective horror film, which is to say it’s scary in all the smart ways.

For every crisis there’s a line of homespun wisdom, in every failure a universal lesson to impart. The film highlights each symbol, making explicit that which would be stronger left implicit, until Rex’s glass castle becomes an overbearing metaphor.

The Midwife is one of those movies that could be about anything and you’d watch, so enjoyable are its lead actors.

The Dark Tower is a near-total whiff, a mess of a movie that took forever to get made and by the look of things should have taken about twice that long. Or maybe just never have been made at all.

The sequel is even more “all about Al,” but ironically, with any question of another electoral run put to rest, the results work better as cinema.

There are a lot of funny people in Brave New Jersey, but the movie is not very funny.

All the actors are good, but Harrington is remarkable. It’s not just the physical changes in her character, but the genuineness with which she inhabits her.

Detroit, as a movie, is all over the place, yet oddly that messiness is one of its strengths. It is also appropriate. Necessary, even. It fits.

City of Ghosts isn’t merely about the personal sacrifices of these men, but a testament to the necessity of a free and open press the world over.

No, Atomic Blonde isn’t lacking in sex appeal or swagger. But what it is in want of are stakes.

A Ghost Story may be the ultimate litmus test of where you fall on the line between artistic merit and laughable pretension.

The no-holds-barred comedy generally works, largely thanks to a game cast that plunges into the raunchy material with gleeful abandon.

In many ways Lady Macbeth is remarkable for what it isn’t. It isn’t a staid period drama. It isn’t romantic. It isn’t predictable. And it certainly isn’t comfortable.

At its best, it hits the gut with the free-fall feel of a theme-park ride. But it’s a long and winding path back to the gate, and “Valerian” loses its way many times, however beautifully.

Dunkirk is a great movie, both an old-time inspirational war epic and at the same time very much a Christopher Nolan movie.

The chemistry between Baldwin and Moore is strangely disconnected. The performers aren't bad, but they don't generate any kind of heat.

The makers of Wish Upon must love the “Final Destination” films, because they perfectly mimic the style, which is alternately nerve-wracking and slightly silly.

Flawed but impressive, War for the Planet of the Apes finds its place comfortably, and near the top, of a surprisingly satisfying summer season. It’s a smart take on the old films, making this a series that can stand alone in its own right.

There is a delightful innocence to Spider-Man: Homecoming, director Jon Watts’ take on the web-slinger that mixes some (but no too much, at least for a while) high-tech wizardry with some old-fashioned family fun.

There is no substance, legal or otherwise, that can make this tolerable.

Hawkins is fantastic. She duplicates Maud’s gnarled hands, but doesn’t overdo it — she simply captures Maud’s struggle and portrays it as part of her life.

There are some funny parts, of course, because the cast is so talented. But it’s too much work for too little payoff — sound and fury signifying nothing. Nothing but Minion fart jokes.

It’s a terrific example of a movie that doesn’t work too hard to make you love it. It’s patient as it waits for you to come around to its considerable charms.

The Beguiled is an atmospheric remake that Sofia Coppola never quite manages to take from languid to lurid.

There’s a hint of artificiality to it. Maybe it’s an allegory, but the meaning hidden therein seems simply to be: go faster. Nothing wrong with that. It’s not as if Wright was shooting for something deeper and missed.

The film is often moving, and some of the performances have a depth and naturalness. But it moves at a pace that can be maddeningly slow and is often long-winded, two traits that stop the momentum dead at times.

Despite the seriousness of the subject matter and the characters’ complex emotional journey, the film turns into something of a thriller with twists that, given the context, beleaguer believability.

For the most part it works, both as a bizarre romance and a fanciful World War II almost-thriller. This is in large part thanks to the cast, particularly Christopher Plummer as Wilhelm.

While it’s visually arresting, it’s a disappointment. It’s too on the nose as a political allegory, and too lacking in coherent narrative to satisfy as a hipster comedy-drama.

It's bigger and louder and, if not longer (checking in at a mere two hours and 28 minutes), certainly stupider than ever before.

What the filmmakers are interested in is Elliott, and it’s easy to see why. He’s outstanding playing with the various aspects of his life and career, and he brings some at-times unexpected emotion to scenes that he elevates.

It’s impressive how accurately Lister-Jones and Pally make these fights. What’s more impressive is how Lister-Jones, who also wrote and directed Band Aid, makes the make-ups and happy, loving moments just as believable.

Rough Night has a couple of halfway good ideas, but they never add up to a whole.

The real power of Beatriz at Dinner is that it isn’t about politics but the human heart. Beatriz and Strutt are not arguing legislation; they’re arguing two visions of the American dream, two visions of the human soul.

Some movies are kind of fake good — at first blush they seem to have all the ingredients in place to be successful. But on further inspection, it’s all a trick. That’s the kind of movie this is.