Without Remorse is neither a classic nor a failure; it falls somewhere in-between. But like Kelly on a seemingly doomed mission, there’s Jordan, giving it all he’s got to save the day.

In fairness, you can say that Mortal Kombat is pretty much exactly what you expect it to be. It’s clearly meant as the first film in a renewed franchise. But for me, it’s game over.

It’s a matter of pacing and choices, what Penna chooses to focus on and what he ignores. He’s got all the elements of a good movie right in front of him. He just never puts all the pieces together.

It’s a sumptuous movie, with gorgeous cinematography (also by Dweck and Kershaw). It won’t necessarily make you want to rush out and pay a fortune for truffles to shave over your eggs. But it will make you appreciate people whose love for something has so fully informed their lives.

There are many things to enjoy — a cat named Small Frank is up there pretty high for me, as is Pfeiffer’s performance. But it snows you under with a small army of quirky characters and situations.

A decidedly dumb entry in the titan saga that’s still kind of fun.

It’s a heartbreaking journey with moments of real triumph, including Turner playing to a crowd of 186,000 in Rio and the audience clearly adoring her during a curtain call at the musical based on her life. But every triumph here is offset by the sense that there are scars that never fully healed.

It’s all insanely violent and gleefully silly. Stab wounds and bullet holes just don’t slow some people down the way you think they might. Through it all the best part of the film remains the dichotomy of a bland wimp (a character Odenkirk plays so well) who can flip the switch to becoming a remorseless killer — and seeing Odenkirk as the one flipping the switch.

It’s a movie as much about white privilege as it is anything else, an examination of the incredible advantages the wealthy have — advantages that don’t prevent them from cheating anyway.

If you’re looking for a brisk, compelling story, maybe not. It’s as if there is a third version of this film, something in between the two in terms of tone and fan service, that would be the best way to tell this story. That’s unlikely to happen, of course. How many “Justice League” movies do we really need, anyway?

The promising beginning shows that it could have been something more than dumb. Alas, it’s not.

The Father has occasional splashes of humor, but, by design, it’s tough to watch at times. Hopkins’ performance makes it impossible not to.

Ultimately Coming 2 America isn’t a sequel that ruins the original. But it doesn’t improve upon it, either.

There's a lot of promise here, all over the film, and not just with Takahashi and Paige. Fans of "Fresh Off the Boat" know that Huang can be funny (though he didn't like it). It's nice to see him stretch out into more dramatic territory, even if he's not quite on as sure footing there. Certainly "Boogie" makes you want to see what's next.

SpongeBob, in whatever form it takes, does one thing and does it really well: absurdist humor with a sweet center. I’m hesitant to ever say that this-and-such thing is “what we need right now,” so I won’t say that about the film. But I will say that SpongeBob is what we need all the time. The more the merrier.

It’s great that Moxie addresses so many issues, but this is a story that might have been told more effectively in a series. Ultimately though, it has powerful moments and it’s hard to complain too much about anything that introduces zines, Bikini Kill and the riot grrrl movement to another generation at a time it really needs it.

In Billie Eilish: The World’s a Little Blurry, director R.J. Cutler’s film about the Grammy-winning singer-songwriter, he allows the audience to come in its own time to what seems obvious by the end: For all of her talent, which is considerable, and her brilliance as a recording artist, Eilish is a teenager trying to figure out her place in the world.

Meanwhile, the Russos are ensuring that you never forget you’re watching a movie, and a stylized one at that. Note the names of the banks Holland’s character robs, for instance, or other little details. Granted, the person telling the story — Holland’s character — is an unreliable narrator for much of the film. But there’s a fine line between spicing things up and showing off.

It’s mostly a biography of Holiday — nothing wrong with that, certainly when you’ve got a performance as stunning as Andra Day’s in the title role.

Quirky characters. A killer soundtrack. Vibrant imagery. Noah Centineo's adorable, squishy little grin. A teenage love story that's equal parts outrageous and delightful.

Minari is as moving as it is entertaining, and it is a lot of both.

Sam Levinson’s film is meant to be a harsh, unyielding examination of a relationship, and thanks to stunning performances by Zendaya and John David Washington, it sometimes is.

The story is infuriating — not in the way King presents it, not at all, but in its details. The manipulation of justice is heartbreaking. Though sadness isn't what you'll most likely feel while watching. Anger is. The betrayal in Judas and the Black Messiah extends far beyond the title character, making it an even greater tragedy.

It’s got an interesting structure — it’s not just about catching a killer but also about revealing Deke’s story. But it ultimately suffers for that, the dueling narratives not blending together so much as competing. Of course, you could do worse than watch actors like Washington, Malek and Leto work. But at the end of The Little Things, you feel like you could do better, too.

The film is a fascinating struggle between Balram’s promise and capability and the generations of ingrained, unfeeling privilege that stacks the deck against him.

There is a gentleness, both to Allyn’s performance and to the film overall, that draws the audience in. The movie’s path is as predictable as Jackson’s, but it’s beautifully shot and the idea is a good one — reversing the typical border-crosser-on-the-run idea. That doesn’t forgive all of its shortcomings, but it comes close.

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.

The Marksman is not awful. It’s not particularly good, either, but it’s not the disaster it should have been. Part of that has to do with the way Lorenz stages the action — well-choreographed and tense. Part of it has to do with Perez, who combines being adorable with a kind of hard-won wisdom beyond his years that makes for a completely winning character.