It’s a strange and intriguing but ultimately unsatisfying stew.

"Part One" represents an admirable effort to do the material justice.

Every year seems to bring some new teen comedy that breaks through the clutter, showcasing new talent, and in this case, speaking to the times in a very specific way. 2021 is still young, but unless or until something better comes along, "Plan B" lays a pretty strong claim to that mantle.

Energetic and sporadically funny, it’s a passable effort to jump-start a comic-book franchise that has enjoyed a long if uneven crawl across the screen.

Built around a predominantly Asian-American cast, it’s so determined to be crude and edgy that while its friendship dynamic lingers, its initial cleverness gets left in the rear-view mirror.

Deftly expanding the source material into a movie, the film is anchored by a sensational performance by Andrew Garfield as Larson.

At a time when journalism is often under siege, there’s value in displaying its noblest qualities and loftiest aspirations. Even with hiccups and quibbles, She Said achieves that central mission.

The Brooks-Reiner banter is so understated and natural as to basically feel like eavesdropping on one of their lunches, which practically yields more memories than insights.

An entertaining, wonderfully simple comedy with the qualities of a smooth martini -- it goes down easy, but delivers a bit of kick.

It's also a terrific showcase for star Nicole Beharie.

The movie’s earnestness can’t wriggle away from the pretty powerful temptation to tap out.

Woodstock 99 makes a compelling case that the sewage from that weekend didn't stop flowing when the music stopped, metaphorically if not literally.

Val Kilmer joins the ranks of celebrities that fastidiously documented their lives via video, then shared that in documentary form. But Val feels more deeply personal and fascinating than most, catching its star in the wake of a terrible illness and exploring the "difficult" label he bore as an actor, one whose career choices didn't always serve him well.

The American Civil Liberties Union battles the Trump administration on multiple fronts in "The Fight," an excellent documentary that captures the heady political moment for which the organization was born. Presented in a taut, tense way, it's a glimpse into what makes the ACLU tick with the pacing and stakes of a dramatic thriller.

The heartbreaking aspect of Robin's Wish lies in the fact that Williams died without knowing what was happening to him, while there's uplift in Schneider Williams' determination to set the record straight. How well that works translating that specific mission into a stand-alone documentary is, to some extent, another matter.

Whatever one’s age, there’s much to like in a movie that offers the requisite laughs and sweetness, while managing to feel quite profound.

The Fall Guy is too flat in the early going to fully meet that challenge, rallying toward the end without reaching the heights required to make a really big splash.

If only the script and story were in the same kind of fighting shape as its leads. Grounding the narrative in Adonis Creed’s past does provide a weightier foundation, but the tradeoff is an element of sluggishness in a movie that, despite its impressive cast, never feels particularly light on its toes.

What Spaceship Earth makes clear is that before booking a ticket, the devil is in the details.

While this represents a considerably lighter story than his Oscar-winning “Argo,” in terms of its sheer appeal Air flies pretty high indeed, in part because its coach is savvy enough to let his winning lineup of all-stars take the ball and run with it.

Deliver(s) adrenaline-fueled thrills, before fatigue creeps into the unrelenting mayhem about halfway through.

Kitano, thankfully, displays the occasional flash of showmanship, and he certainly establishes a unique tone, but troublesome things like plot and pacing don't seem to be to his liking.

Supernova is by any measure a modest production, but it accomplishes what it sets out to do: Creating a touching, low-key showcase for its stars, one that allows them to cast a bright light.

Lucy and Desi puts a big heart around Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, not only as the beloved stars of "I Love Lucy" and one of Hollywood's great power couples, but as TV pioneers. Drawing upon personal recordings and home videos, director Amy Poehler has served up a warm valentine that leans into celebrating their lives and away from the tabloid fodder.

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish brings a playful quality to the animated feline as well as a deeper message. When it comes to long-delayed sequels it’s wise to be careful what you wish for, but overall the film manages to nimbly land on its feet.

The Killer has an old-fashioned feel and still manages to nail its target by bringing dashes of freshness, wit and unpredictability to this well-worn genre.

Slay the Dragon does an extraordinarily good job of taking a complex issue and connecting the dots, which seems particularly appropriate for a documentary about gerrymandering.

“Ferrari” doesn’t click on all cylinders, featuring a miscast Adam Driver as the automotive mogul, in a Michael Mann-directed movie with some arresting moments that add up to less than the sum of its parts.

Overall, News of the World is a solid if unspectacular film, presenting a familiar story against an interesting historical backdrop. It just doesn't deliver quite the much-needed escape from their troubles to a contemporary audience that Kidd promises his crowds.

Bruce Springsteen's Letter to You is a valentine to his fans, an ode to friendship and a celebration of the E Street Band. The latest documentary from the prolific artist also marks the continued migration of what he describes as his "45-year conversation" with his audience into the visual media of film and streaming -- this time via Apple TV+.

Beyond the fundamental horror of corporate greed trumping public-health concerns, the movie -- while often bleak and unsettling -- does find hope in the idea that one ordinary guy can make a difference. Dark Waters' message, though, is something bigger -- namely, that turning the tide is a task that will ultimately require a commitment from all of us.

What could feel cliched at various turns deftly avoids that, capturing Ruby’s plight in a way that recalls any number of coming-of-age stories while still feeling unexpectedly fresh and distinctive. There have been a number of first-rate movies about teenage girls in the last few years, but few that were better.

Fire Island primarily wants to be fun, not necessarily profound, so it needs to be consumed on those terms. Austen adaptations clearly never go out of style, but this latest variation reminds us that alone doesn't mean they pack enough accessories to completely validate the trip.

While the ranks of musicals brought to the screen probably does merit some family planning, “Matilda the Musical” offers a sprightly demonstration that there’s always room for another good one.

Ammonite joins a long list of forbidden love stories, yielding a movie presented in washed-out tones, which shines principally thanks to Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan. The result is a slow-moving, somewhat predictable but finally effective period romance that primarily serves as an old-fashioned testament to star power.

Promising Young Woman combines a promising star and timely premise into a provocative but less-than-satisfying thriller.

Director Gerard Johnstone builds up nicely toward those moments, smartly taking its time before the casualties and coincidences start piling up. The film is also a savvy rumination on the perils of letting technology serve as the ultimate babysitter, with Cady becoming a bit of a little monster herself when deprived of M3GAN’s company.

Belushi turns out to be a lot more than just another look at a star who succumbed to drug abuse, but rather a celebration of John Belushi's talent -- and an era -- as recalled by those who knew him best. R.J. Cutler's documentary has its melancholy moments, but from the opening glimpse of Belushi's "Saturday Night Live" audition video, it surely won't give you the blues.

Let Them All Talk is as breezy as an ocean cruise (pre-Covid), and mostly a welcome excuse to enjoy its three septuagenarian leads -- Meryl Streep, Candice Bergen and Dianne Wiest -- as they banter their way across the Atlantic. Yet director Steven Soderbergh also offers some surprises, steering this polished little film in unexpected directions.

Power makes an intellectual argument, but it’s built on a visceral foundation, purposefully bleeding from past generations into the current one.

Four Hours at the Capitol might be unlikely to change many hearts or minds, but watching the evidence months removed from the heat of the moment and the chaos that unfolded live on TV makes it difficult to entertain arguments that the media has overblown or misrepresented those images.

Spanning decades, the film version of the Broadway stage production improves in key respects on the Oscar-nominated original movie, with a spiritual message that should resonate through the holidays.

Even if the movie’s head is occasionally in the clouds, “Orion’s” heart is very much in the right place.

What ensues, though, is essentially a rather low-octane thriller, punctuated by trips down memory lane. And while there are some fine moments buried within all that -- some showcasing Gilligan's quirky streak, like an incongruous rendition of the song "Sharing the Night Together" -- it still feels a trifle unnecessary.

For all that the film does well, in trying to balance its cerebral, visceral and sequel aspects, Candyman appears to have bitten off a bit more than it can chew.

Ultimately, “Dungeons & Dragons” delivers enough laughs and thrills to justify braving a trip to the theater. And for these purposes, that’s game, set and match.

Both in its cultural specificity and the passage of time, Society of the Snow delivers a credible take on a remarkable story – augmented by the prolific Michael Giacchino’s score – while hampered somewhat by the limitations imposed by how those events unfolded.

On the plus side, writer-director James Gunn's movie is superior to its predecessor on most every level. Balancing that, the R-rated mayhem becomes a trifle numbing, blunting the overall effect.

There's always the risk of sounding preachy in this sort of exercise in a way that scares off those who can be reached, or perhaps worse, being unduly optimistic. Attenborough finds a middle ground.

Moss, whose gift for speaking volumes with purposeful stares is well-documented on "The Handmaid's Tale," perfectly captures the sense of invasion Cecelia feels, and at first, helplessness. Her growing strength, in the face of such an overwhelming threat, is the movie's most empowering element.

In Pattinson, the producers have found a Dark Knight worthy of the hoopla, while creating a Gotham much in need of him. As new chapters go, it's a strong beginning; if only it had known when to end.

Alternately uplifting and devastating, a warm reminiscence about the Harry Potter franchise and a glimpse into child stardom, it’s finally a tribute to its namesake, who concludes that he’d “better tell my story, or it won’t be told.”

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings conjures a slick addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, one that owes less to the comics than most of its predecessors. The movie not only strikes a welcome blow for inclusion with its predominantly Asian cast, but deftly juggles epic world building with lighter comedy in a way that should appeal to audiences, depending on how many can be lured back to theaters at this moment.

Pixar movies have a habit for finding simple truths and tugging at the heartstrings, and Luca accomplishes some of that deftly enough before it's over.

The thrills don’t look cheap, exactly, but the whole thing feels a bit cheaper, as if this were the pilot for an anthology series titled “Tales of the Predator,” charting periodic visits through history.

I laughed out loud a few times during The Big Lebowski, and Jeff Bridges, as always, is very good, but after I write this review, I'll probably never think about the movie again. And I spend way too much time thinking about movies.

While the documentary doesn’t break much new ground, Kijak generally finds the right balance between the salacious elements and Hollywood nostalgia that remain inextricably intertwined in Hudson’s story.

Briskly balancing a dizzying assortment of parts, Marvel's latest (by way of Sony) looks destined to do what only a spider can -- namely, lure vast numbers of fans into its web.

Directed by Brett Harvey, Inmate #1 has a few minor flaws, including an overly sappy musical score. Still, its subject is so inherently likable that a feature-length dose of Trejo's boundless energy feels like the kind of adrenaline shot we can use right about now.

A Quiet Place Part II manages to be perfectly fine, and unsurprisingly, a more generic affair -- one that offers less for audiences to cheer, quietly or otherwise, beyond the renewed sensation of being frightened in the dark.

The Outpost manages to be both harrowing and less than completely involving, a movie that can be admired for its visceral portrayal of war while leaving the characters underdeveloped.

A solidly made animated feature, but one more notable for the height of its aspirations than its consistent ability to deliver on them.

While “The Caine Mutiny” clearly loses something in translation, the inherent drama of the courtroom faceoff survives intact.

The underlying story is better than the movie in “The Survivor,” but that material is so harrowing as to win on what amounts to a split decision. Timed to Holocaust Remembrance Day, the film isn’t equal to the awards bait HBO has traditionally offered in the TV-movie genre, but it should inspire plenty of googling about the remarkable tale of Harry Haft.

A familiar but very nicely done coming-of-age story.

Whether it's on a large screen now or a small one later, Blinded by the Light represents such a sweet, easy-to-relate-to story that it deserves to be seen, at the least, by anyone who has shown a little faith that there's magic in the arts -- either in music, or a darkened theater.

From the title to the execution, this National Geographic presentation has the right stuff.

One wishes the movie had a little more heft to it. It's fine, even welcome, to see a superhero exult in his abilities, and on that level, "Shazam!" is generally fun. Even so, that lightning symbol notwithstanding, the film only occasionally conjures the spark of magic that gives the title its meaning.

Where's My Roy Cohn? is by no means a flattering portrait; rather, the film portrays Cohn as being emblematic of everything that's wrong with politics, class disparity and the current toxic political environment. Were he still around, though, it goes without saying that Cohn would characterize the project as a stunning victory.

Fauci makes no pretense about where its sentiments lie, lauding a figure whose critics have seemingly twisted his image beyond recognition in their attempts to demonize him.

Lewis -- who is battling pancreatic cancer -- was not much more than a kid when he marched alongside Martin Luther King Jr., and has seemingly lived three lives since then. That's why despite the documentary's uneven aspects, his legacy is ample motivation for any student of history to see Good Trouble as a good investment.

Sidney, a documentary from director Reginald Hudlin produced by Oprah Winfrey, does the actor justice, providing context, depth and considerable warmth in chronicling his remarkable life and trailblazing career.

Nightmare Alley spends too long spinning its wheels before getting to the more pertinent twists about the dangers of conning the wrong people, as well as the shadowy motivations of all concerned.

Sure, it’s another throwback intended to wring value out of nostalgia, but one executed with a level of relentless silliness that, like its “stars,” won’t ever be accused of over-thinking things.

There's a good movie to be made about a woman wading into late-night TV's headwinds -- both in front of and behind the curtain. Despite solid moments, Late Night isn't consistently it.

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story certainly earns its title, operating, appropriately, not as an actual movie biography but an outlandish parody of one, filled with comedy cameos and bizarre flights of fancy.

Provides a stellar showcase for its actors, especially Jim Parsons as the central provocateur.

Despite the can't-miss subject matter, Operation Varsity Blues: The College Admissions Scandal makes a near-fatal misstep, heavily using dramatic recreations in a way that leaves this Netflix production somewhere between Lifetime movie and documentary. The salacious aspects of the scandal still earn a passing grade, but due to the unwieldy hybrid format, just barely.

Perhaps foremost, “Faye” allows its subject to be, or at least appear, as big, complicated and multifaceted as her life and career, in both the highs and lows, would suggest.

Those raised on John's music will surely luxuriate in the songs, from the title track to "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road," "Your Song" to "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me." In those moments, it's easy to share the euphoric sense of being lifted off the ground. It's only a bit of shame that Rocketman, as constructed, doesn't consistently stay airborne.

Written and directed by Lee Cronin, the wit and humor that Campbell brought to past incarnations (including a Starz series revival) is in relatively short supply here. The film rather relies upon lots of jump scares and gruesome makeup effects, as well as the prospect of Ellie’s possessed form trying to do in her kids. That includes her very-young daughter (Nell Fisher), a semi-distasteful element even by the standards of the genre.

Greta Thunberg's inspiring children's crusade on the climate-change crisis receives dutiful if somewhat sluggish documentary treatment in "I Am Greta," an intimate portrait of the teenage activist that at its best conveys her courage and spirit, before bogging down in what becomes a somewhat repetitious call for action.

There's nary a note of surprise to be found, but the heroism and man-dog bond carry the movie along.

The amount of new information in "The Princess" will likely depend on one's personal Royals-related media consumption, but the packaging of this stark and intimate documentary -- marking the 25th anniversary of Princess Diana's death -- serves as a sobering reminder of how the press hounded her from the moment of her engagement until her tragic death.

Lionel Richie serves as the de facto tour guide for this trip down memory lane, which fulfills its promise to make a better day (or at least 90-some-odd minutes) for you and me.

A particularly rich Disney+ documentary that captures the man as well as the ideas that will ensure him a kind of immortality.

Unlike most biographical documentaries, “Stephen Curry: Underrated” benefits from having two very distinct windows in mind, both buttressing its underlying point: Curry as a barely recruited, under-sized high school prospect, before merging as a college star at Davidson; and his most recent title with the Golden State Warriors. Either would be good enough, but put together, “Underrated” shoots and scores.

Opening up about her bipolar disorder is surely a service, but the six-year span encompassed by this intimate Apple TV+ presentation labors to flesh out its revelations into a documentary.

For an actor known for having led his crew as it boldly explored humankind’s final frontier, “You Can Call Me Bill,” somewhat disappointingly, takes its extensive access to Shatner and doesn’t go much of anywhere.

His catchphrase notwithstanding, "Borat" isn't always very nice; indeed, the material is pointed, and occasionally guilty of working a little too hard to shock. In its best moments, though, the twisted mirror that Cohen holds up to America from a Borat's-eye-view is telling, and like the previous "moviefilm," very, very funny.

Oyelowo's film delivers its simple message to appreciate the people you love ably enough, without leaving the intended ripples in its wake.

The film makes a sobering point about the danger of rushing to judgment and trial by media, but undermines that with its ham-handed approach to key parts of the story.

Edgy, unsettlingly paranoid and genuinely clever, it’s a logical continuation of the conversation writer-director Sam Esmail started with “Mr. Robot.”

Permutations on Sherlock Holmes have a long and spotty cinematic history, which makes Enola Holmes -- a vehicle for "Stranger Things'" Millie Bobby Brown, who doubled as its producer -- such a pleasant surprise. Adapted from the young-adult books, it's a lovely production that reinforces the sense Brown, if there were any doubts, is a major star in the making.

The latest film begins from a slightly unexpected premise, but then efficiently spins it to yield additional horror while giving theater-goers every reason to keep their mouths shut.

To its credit, this two hour, 43-minute movie (thus making the title a bit of a lie) assiduously builds on everything that the recent Bond movies have established, in a way earlier incarnations generally didn't. That has deepened the character, allowing Bond to experience grief, loss and love without hitting the reset button, the recurrence of the villainous Blofeld notwithstanding.

While it’s fun seeing “The Breakfast Club” as they near “The Early-Bird Dinner Club” years, this is one of those projects that would have benefited from a more journalistic tone.

What really defines the film is meeting the title character's other "family," whose members are equal parts colorfully eccentric and lethal.