Everybody Loves Somebody doesn’t reinvent the rom-com, but it manages to take the formula, shake it up a bit, and come up with something that feels fresh and inventive.

What makes Joy Ride stand out among other R-rated comedies is its heart, smart writing and attention to detail in each of the characters that comes from the unique perspective of an Asian director and cast tapping into shared experiences, stereotypes and cultural particularities. I haven’t laughed this hard in a movie theater in a very long time.

The animation is first-rate, and the settings and background are appropriately exotic. The fights are a lot more exciting than you would think. And if the story is somewhat predictable (and the final blow somewhat difficult to fathom), one could find lesser heroes to root for than Po, although none more unlikely.

What's most enjoyable about Crazy Rich Asians is that, while it never forfeits its sense of responsibility, it also never forfeits its sense of fun. Chu wants you to slobber over the settings, to imagine what a life like this might be like — and to ensure that being Asian is a part of that.

If you want pinpoint accuracy, watch a documentary. If you want to see top-notch actors inhabit characters in genuine and ultimately moving ways, The Duke is a much better option.

Author Olaf Olafsson helped write the screenplay and you can feel his intentions throughout. There is a literary beauty woven throughout the film. He asks you to examine what it means to reach out and touch someone — or have someone touch you. Both the physical and the metaphysical are orchestrated wonderfully.

To watch Cage ride this rollercoaster of popular culture is a pure delight. It’s also agonizing and will make you squirm.

Take my word for it, or better yet go find out for yourself: Big Hero 6 is a treat.

It is a sweet, gentle, at times beautiful movie that does not gloss over the ugliness Steele, a transgender woman, references.

Mommy is a film as harrowing as it is exhilarating, a story sometimes hard to watch but impossible to turn away from.

Young is one of only a handful of artists from his generation still making vital contributions, or even trying to. Some of his efforts are hit-and-miss, but he's still in there swinging. He never stops moving, changing, evolving, and it makes him fascinating.

Thanks to Larson’s songs, Miranda’s directing and generous, inspired acting — particularly from Garfield, who manages to be lovable and obnoxious, depending on what’s needed — tick … tick … Boom! is a moving tribute to a misunderstood process and the people who engage in it.

It lags in a few places, but She Said gives you a journalism story to cheer for.

What's really cool about the film - in addition to Jake Gyllenhaal's performance as Stevens - is how Jones makes sure that we don't know any more than Stevens does, right up till the end.

On the whole it’s a remarkably controlled exercise. It’s to the film’s credit that Moll is the center of attention from start to finish, and not even a romantically damaged bad boy can steal the spotlight from her barely contained wildfire of emotions.

Cage is getting down and dirty again in Joe, and it's pretty remarkable — the performance more so than the film, and the film's good.

Thor: Ragnarok is a blast, pure and simple.

It is, of course, impossible not to think of what might have been had Giffords not been shot. Every victim of gun violence inspires that feeling. But Cohen and West capture her work since, both to recover and on behalf of others. The Tom Petty song that inspires the title is apt: won’t back down, indeed.

Interesting as it is, Narco Cultura aims to tell the story of what’s happened in Juarez and in Mexico (and, by virtue of its immense appetite for drugs, the U.S.). Instead, it feels more like a couple of intriguing chapters.

Queen & Slim is strongest when it lets the images and the acting do the lion’s share of the talking.

On the Rocks is a funny film, warm for the most part except when it’s not — and needs not to be. Minor Murray, you might call it? And yes, you could say that he’s in effect just doing the kind of thing he always does, only more so. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

Potter’s sense of timing is terrific. She never lingers on one character too long. It’s the same with the movie — you’re in and out before you realize what hit you.

A documentary that delves into what happens when the ghost stories you told as kids, the stuff of urban legends, seem to come true.

Writer and director Ti West accesses all the hot buttons for fans of the genre in a manner that doesn't make fun of it (and its followers) in a "Scary Movie" way, but instead treats it with the appropriate amount of respect. (Key word: appropriate.)

With a story this sensitive, the main actors and Durkin must walk a thin line between showing the events and not exploiting the tragedies of a family. And through excellent performances, The Iron Claw succeeds, feeling genuine and heartbreaking.

This gently humorous, fiercely honest indie film is a step forward in the quest for a move inclusive Hollywood, which seems to one of the themes of the cultural moment. Some may dismiss it as identity politics. But movies like this prove that it’s about broadening our scope and deepening our understanding.

A satisfying story of yearning and, eventually, satisfaction.

Subtle it's not, but the film is effective both as a thriller and as a war film with something to say.

Directors Leo Scott and Ting Poo are armed with seemingly endless self-shot footage for Val, a moving, fascinating portrait of the actor. But disarming is a better word for how Kilmer, reputedly a “difficult” actor, comes off.

This is a difficult film, one that asks questions that can’t really be answered. There are a couple of surprises along the way, but more than anything Koreeda is getting at what really makes a family a family.

A feel-good romance, it’s not. A feel-bad one, more like. But Domont has loftier ideas in mind, and in Fair Play, she effectively gets them across.

A sequel, by definition, can’t be as innovative as the original. And there is no sure-fire crying scene here like — spoiler alert — the fate of Bing Bong in the first film. (I rewatched it again to make sure it still has the desired effect. It, ahem, does.)

The Fall Guy isn’t exactly Oscar bait. Which is fine. Instead, it’s the rare movie that succeeds on its own terms, doing exactly what it sets out to do, which is entertain its audience.

Creed III is definitely a people movie. And Jordan has trained his lens on the right subjects. He’s once again convincing as a man trying to fight his way through internal conflict, not just opponents in the ring.

Wicked isn’t the best movie you’ll see this year, but it’s almost certainly the most movie. … There’s not a frame wasted, not a second of down time. It’s a little like having dessert for dinner, as well as for the appetizer and dessert again, too. And it’s fun, a good time at the movies.

Happily, this is a movie about not just idealism but practical idealism, and the struggle that maintaining it requires. It looks drop-dead gorgeous and, despite a few storytelling short cuts, it's unexpectedly moving.

Laurence Anyways is like a big, ornate, overstuffed pillow of a movie. It’s attractive and comfortable, even if there’s just too much of it.

Hoffman was a genius, a tremendously gifted actor who could shine in almost any role... A Most Wanted Man may not be the best example of this, but it certainly adds to the evidence.

Spaceship Earth is an interesting look at the origins of one Arizona’s most interesting tourist attractions.

Surprisingly entertaining, probably because it uses Wall Street shenanigans and schadenfreude as the backdrop to a crime drama.

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.

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.

Air isn’t a documentary, it's better — a brilliantly acted, fascinating true story.

It doesn’t just maintain the momentum built in the previous chapters but further ramps up the emotional stakes and physical complexity. It’s like gorging on candy for two hours, only you get to walk away from the theater without a stomachache.

If you like martial-arts films, it's well worth your while, a non-stop orgy of brilliantly choreographed fight scenes. Eventually it's all too much, a blur of fists, blades and snapped bones that run together. Still, it's a wild ride.

For all its vivid period atmosphere and striking scenes, there is a meandering quality that keeps the film from being truly involving. It's not the lack of sentiment, but perhaps the absence of any sort of momentum.

With Transpecos, Kwedar doesn’t offer any easy answers. Instead he points out the problems, how entrenched and intertwined they are, and asks other questions: How far will you go to survive? And will it be enough in the end?

The film soldiers on through a couple of possible endings, and if its real destination is never truly in doubt, Mbatha-Raw makes the trip interesting.

One of those movies that's good, but leaves you with the nagging feeling that it could have been better.

Director Roger Michell ("Notting Hill") has the good sense to step back and let Broadbent and Duncan work their magic on Hanif Kureishi's script. They don't disappoint.

Montana Story is a personal film, a small story told under the Big Sky. Those skies can make any story feel epic in scope — they frame tales as mythology in a way. But in Scott McGehee and David Siegel’s film (they wrote and direct), those same skies are so grand and far-reaching they can make you lose your perspective.

It’s a zombie movie that, amidst the giddy bloodshed, allows room for philosophical questions about our fundamental responsibilities to one another. It may not be something we’ve never seen before, but it’s something we can benefit from seeing again.

It's Cooper's movie, and, although he has been good in pretty much everything we've seen him in, there is a depth to this performance we haven't seen before. It's a tricky balance: As the legend grows, the man diminishes. Cooper and Eastwood do an exceptionally good job of maintaining that.

The lunacy begins early in The Pirates! Band of Misfits and never lets up.

“No life, no music,” the Tower slogan read. For Solomon and the rest, it was more like a battle cry in a war they fought but ultimately couldn’t win.

Trapero handles the movie's pacing with a masterful ease.

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.

As far as missteps go, Prince Avalanche is at least an interesting one, which is better than Green has done in awhile.

The movie ultimately winds up falling between two stools, failing as both a biography and an action film. Martial arts fans will naturally be drawn to the story, but the film does nothing to open up the world to outsiders.

For me, it doesn’t really matter if LaBeouf is letting himself off the hook, or if Honey Boy is the ultimate vanity project of a pampered narcissist. What matters is that he has plunged into the maelstrom of his own memories and emerged with a real work of art — something that feels real, feels true, even though we all know it isn’t.

Think of Julieta as Pedro Almodovar unplugged. The director tones down somewhat his signature look (loud and busy colors) and vibe (heightened melodrama) for something a little more muted in this tale of loss and tragedy.

It’s a messy story, but with Mann’s structural rigor imposed upon it. That is a powerful combination, and one that makes “Ferrari” a bizarrely compelling entry in the Mann canon.

It’s not derivative. It’s just familiar. But it also boasts two unique elements.

It's an interesting movie, odd and disturbing by design. But it's also effective.

Sherriff doesn’t offer any great answers here. It’s not like his play ended wars. But it’s a timely reminder that for all of the talk and negotiation and blustering and posturing, war means death, and “Journey’s End” brings that message home.

If you’re a fan willing to look past his misfires (or why he agreed to a “Bad News Bears” remake) or a film buff wondering about how a director operates on a set, “Dream Is Destiny” will be a delight.

Director Eran Riklis starts the film off with a playful, whimsical tone that grows increasingly darker as things progress. It reflects the life of the movie's protagonist, which finds him facing challenges that would make most people bitter.

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.

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol is big, it's loud and so relentless in its action that it reminds me of an old joke. Why do you hit yourself in the head with a hammer? Because it feels so good when you stop. In this case, the headache is worth it.

It is a brutal, beautifully shot movie that starts out to be about revenge but then becomes something more, something even more primal and disturbing.

One of Them Days is proof that a good, old-school style comedy is still achievable with perfect casting, even when it's a story we've seen time and time again.

Set in 18th-century Denmark, it's an intellectual costume drama. It's a romance involving big ideas, the biggest ideas. It's long, it's serious, it's a lot of fun.

Haynes plays up the melodrama, and the film moves along without a lot of surprises. But that gives it a certain momentum — a momentum personified by Bilott in the storage room, sorting through boxes. It’s not flashy, but it’s how you get the job done.

Simon Stone’s film, about a famous archaeological discovery, has an excellent cast, led by Carey Mulligan, Ralph Fiennes and Lily James, all in top form. It takes place just as England is entering World War II, so there’s that, too. And since this evidently isn’t enough, some romance gets tacked on, as well.

It is a quiet but intense and closely observed piece of work.

Sometimes a feel-good story hits the spot. CODA is one of those times.

Fire Island, Andrew Ahn’s romantic comedy that is basically “Pride and Prejudice” with gay men, is an utter delight.

Bros is a truly funny, smart and well-written romantic comedy about love in all its forms, and that's something we can all use more of in our lives.

The Last Stop in Yuma County is a promising debut, and a welcome chance to watch some actors you’ve seen in other things get a chance to branch out a little. It’s dark fun, assuming you find watching escalating tension a good time. And why wouldn’t you?

Overall The Insult is a compelling, timely movie. Doueiri is doing what artists do: Making the personal universal, while at the same time showing the impact a few poorly chosen words can carry.

Pfeiffer may be stripped of her luminosity, but she is vivid onscreen.

Skeptical at first, perhaps a little embarrassed, but before you know it, you're having a blast.

The performances are terrific, and when it’s on its game, which is often, Straight Outta Compton is an explosive look at the creation of a message that had to be delivered by the only people who could deliver it, a message that is, unfortunately, as timely now as when we first heard it.

It’s never a boring film to look at, but it is often a tiring one. Running over two hours, the film is bloated with portent and repetition, each story taking too long to get to its inevitable moral.

Juror #2 isn’t quite forgettable, but it’s also not the movie we’ll remember Eastwood for.

Through it all, you can’t stop watching Ben, Mortensen’s character. At some point, though, you realize it’s no longer because you admire him for his ideals but want to strangle him for his undying adherence to them.

There is a hollowed-out gravitas to his Getty, the perfect example of someone for whom having almost literally everything is just not enough, and Plummer captures this magnificently. No matter how he got there, it’s impossible now to imagine All the Money in the World without him.

Still Mine is a rewarding, performance-based film, ultimately a small pleasure to spend time with.

The Cabin in the Woods is a fantastic poke in the eye of our horror-movie expectations.

An absurd amount of grisly fun, which is a good thing, since, looked at in any great detail, it probably doesn't hold up all that well.

Brittany is funny and authentic, but she can also be prickly and stubborn, even hard to like. You know, the way real people are.

Promising Young Woman is a dark tale of revenge, shot through with black comedy. At every turn, it’s almost too much. As is the performance by Carey Mulligan. Except that performance turns out to be just right. It’s a no-holds-barred wonder, easily one of the best of the year.

It’s disheartening that it took until 2018 to get a gay version of this adolescent staple from a major studio. But at least it was worth the wait.

As cinema, Crime After Crime is nothing special. It would be perfect for a PBS "Frontline" entry. But it reminds us, once again, that little can be quite so riveting as a well-told story from a compelling talking head.

As a documentary about Jonathan Gold, the Pulitzer Prize-winning food critic, City of Gold is more or less an entertaining valentine to an interesting guy. As cultural archaeology, unearthing the relationship between food and a city, food and a critic, a city and a critic and a swirling stew of all the above, it's fantastic.

In Bloom, whose title proves more and more ironic as the film goes on, is a fascinating snapshot of a country at war with itself (literally, eventually) as seen through the eyes of two teenage girls, whose lives are complicated enough as it is.

Balanced with the over-the-top but spot-on performances by Ruffalo and Collette as the clear “rich guy turned politician that has a really really loyal fanbase” stand-in, "Mickey 17" is one of Bong’s best English-language films.

The narrative is so diffuse that putting together the pieces is beside the point. You feel no closer to knowing or understanding the Laurents, and their collective unpleasantness gives one little reason to want to. It’s a skilled ratcheting of discomfort – but to what end?