Twenty-four years ago, the original Toy Story broke ground as the first-ever entirely computer animated feature film. What’s more astonishing now is how all those ones and zeroes are harnessed to produce something so utterly lifelike.

A two-hour-plus cat-and-mouse game between the two heavyweight actors unfolds, and is enthusiastically filmed against a to-die-for soundtrack, detailing the exhaustive efforts on both sides to take the other down.

Go see it, get the adrenaline rush, and then go home and forget about it. It's noisy and fun, but that's all it is.

This is a war film with precious little war, which was also the crux of Swofford's book.

Unostentatious originality, psychological insight, and stark beauty make it well worth any film lover's time.

It looks like an authentic period drama and has a pleasant spirit, even if it has difficulty keeping things totally interesting. It may not pack the esteemed grandeur of a five-course meal at a Michelin star restaurant, but it does deliver the gentle nourishment of a thoughtfully cooked dinner to share with a loved one.

Provocative and prodding, but apart from its queen bee Ellen (the marvelous Rampling), the characters are representational types instead of fleshed-out human beings.

It’s easy to see why Richard Turner is the stuff of inspiration, regardless of whether he wants to you think so or not.

The challenge – the one this film proves incapable of overcoming – is how you marry a broad family comedy with the endless complexity of the adoption process.

The Front Runner spends too much time involved in the glare of the situation rather than examining its intricacies or characters. Like many of Reitman’s films, particularly Men, Women & Children, The Front Runner is interested in the subject of privacy as mitigated by the TMI era. The character of Gary Hart, unfortunately, becomes only a means to this end.

The movie is cute but predictable.

Although there are some exhilarating moments here, they're offset by frequent distractions: Lewis' standard (and now boring) weird performance, an occasional lack of logic in the story line, a tendency to go operatic, and the overall feeling that the movie is unsure of where it is going.

As a whole, September 11 never reaches any conclusions or ready insights. But as a collection of moments, the film often soars.

To its credit, the film shows no interest in creating blind heroics but instead uphold the nickname Kyle earned in Iraq: the Legend.

All the action in Souvenir happens in such a dreamlike haze, that it’s my personal pet theory that none of it is actually real and Liliane has been sitting in front of the TV the whole time.

Still, this is recent and public history, and Fair Game, which both fascinates and infuriates, comes across as little more than a footnote in an ever-lengthening list (thanks, Wikileaks!) of the Bush White House's sordid, potentially treasonous actions leading up to and beyond the invasion of Iraq.

Never gives us the nuts and bolts of mental illness and guilt, just the sight of cooped-up steam escaping from a valve that’s about to blow.

The interpersonal storylines, the tackling of the connections between grief and rage and flight, are some of the deepest and most nuanced in the franchise's history, as is the underlying narrative of two powerful nations heading to a needless conflict in the fog of war. When Black Panther: Wakanda Forever is at its best when it looks at confusion rather than adds to it.

There’s an earnestness about Accidental Texan that can only warm your heart. Every moment is predictable, but in Bristol’s capable hands that becomes a strength.

July sees the world in a most unexpected way, and it's a shame that Me and You's preciousness sometimes overwhelms that uniqueness of vision.

Two terrific performances and the interplay between the two actors – Mahershala Ali and Viggo Mortensen – are the reasons to see Green Book. Their pas de deux is a master class in acting, and the twosome’s give and take provides good company for the road trip that comprises the heart of this narrative.

The film's cast, all unknowns with the exception of comic/Broadway performer DeLaria, acquit themselves well, with the skinny, innocent-eyed Stafford a credible Candide navigating a new world of experience. His grounded performance charters Eric's stumbling progress to a sense of self that befits Edge of Seventeen: without apology.

Phillippe does a dark, searing turn with a character that could have easily been little more than Taps-era hubris, and Gordon-Levitt, as one of King's more fragmented former charges, is riveting and convincingly small-town Texas.

This violent, sometimes brutal suspense thriller was thus quite a surprise, both in how effectively Cruise creates a commanding physical presence despite his lack of size, and for how well the film works in general.

It’s one of the few narration-dependent films in recent years in which the words don’t get in the way of the story.

The film’s basic problem is that it jumps around too much, with an array of speakers from Montana to Washington, D.C. to California.

Black Phone 2 may be a power ballad to the original’s minor chord metal, but it still rocks.

As it stands, an extremely funny script and one J.K. Simmons do save the movie from being just a standard TV biopic of the week.