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.

Cars 3 doesn’t have enough velocity to escape that lesser tier. It does, however, offer a course correction for the franchise with a kinetic and emotionally resonant sports film that’s big on character – and blessedly light on Mater.

Director Gabriela Cowperthwaite keeps things moving, but her stripped-down approach is more effective in creating the world of the characters than in showing us how they interact inside it.

Johns makes it all bearable. Inviting, even. His performance has such a gentle humanity, especially in the darkest scenes, that you can’t turn away. You don’t just root against the system. You root for him, and that’s an important distinction.

Weisz’s performance is what provides the tension. It’s impossible to read her — or, more accurately, it’s possible to misread her. That’s kind of the same thing, but not quite.

It Comes at Night is soaked in uncertainty. It makes us uncomfortable because we want answers and can’t have them. And if there’s anyone who knows how to make an audience uncomfortable, it’s writer and director Trey Edward Shults.

Call it a battle-of-the-sexes comedy set in a devout Orthodox community in Jerusalem. But, in its own quiet and friendly way, the film goes deeper than that, looking at how conservative religious views can clash with more moderate ways.

Ultimately, and perhaps most disappointingly, The Mummy winds up being not so much its own movie as what, by the end, feels like the first episode of a show that's already been renewed for several seasons. Because, in some respects, that's what it is.

In Wakefield’s mind, naturally, there is no life without him. It’s to Cranston’s credit that, at least for a couple of hours, we’re willing to play along.

I liked Dean. And I liked Martin’s direction. I just hope his next outing is a little more ambitious.

If the story is somewhat lacking, Cox is terrific.