A vehicle with roughly the weight of a stiff breeze.

Sorry/Not Sorry takes issue with both the supposition that nobody was really victimized by Louis C.K.’s actions and the mentality of first looking the other way amid what the comic initially dismissed as “rumors,” then welcoming him back.

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.

Less than weighty in the comedy part of its equation, the film largely works as a vehicle for Scarlett Johansson and Channing Tatum, even without completely sticking the landing.

West mixes some wit in with the gore here, even if the payoff, alas, doesn’t rise to the level of the buildup. By then, though, “MaXXXine” has delivered enough nostalgia regarding its genre to merit a walk down its alleys, and not incidentally, the showcase and sendoff that Goth’s character deserves.

“Axel F” only turns up the heat to a low simmer, but as breezy escapism goes, those armed with the proper attitude might find themselves doing the neutron dance, or a version of it, all over again.

A tired, disjointed medley of madcap visual gags, the animated film yields roughly as many legitimate laughs as can be counted on a Minion’s three-digit hand.

Even setting the expectations bar at a modest height, though, the movie doesn’t quite clear it – another case, in rom-com terms, where the idea of them, as a marquee matchup, proves superior to the execution.

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.

“Horizon” tells such a sprawling story that this introductory chapter, despite strong moments, proves especially scattered, rolling out numerous characters on separate fronts without connecting them.

Like his trademark bandanas, “Disciple” wears its soul, and its love for the music these artists created, brightly displayed where all the world can see it.

Trigger Warning might not be packing anything unexpected in the chamber, but for those who come to it with the proper mind-set, the movie doesn’t wind up firing blanks either.

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.

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.

Hit Man is as much a quirky romance as a thriller, juggling its mix of whimsy and suspense deftly enough, especially down the closing stretch.

The result has that calculated, tired feel about it, with a few moments of kinetic action but not enough to make the film play like anything more than a relic.

“The Great Lillian Hall” operates as a love letter to the theater while catering to those who can appreciate an “All About Eve” reference or two.

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

Young Woman and the Sea is an exercise in the simple power of a well-told story, the kind that can wash over and uplift you all at once.

A nonstop sci-fi action movie that basically gets the job done with a plot that recalls Disney’s “Big Hero 6,” just with a lot more cursing.

Part heist movie, part family reunion, the film draws upon the most salient characteristics of the flabby feline, but mostly as an excuse to build a story that seems to crawl further from its origins with every passing frame.

Forty-five years after “Mad Max” introduced many to a young Aussie named Mel Gibson, Miller certainly hasn’t lost his touch as a visual stylist and mad maestro of elaborate action. In almost every other respect, this feels like one of those instances where there’s more sound than “Fury.”

The best parts should strike a mildly receptive chord with parents while potentially boring younger kids, a prescription that could subject the movie’s imaginary friends to a harsh reality once audiences in summer-movie mode get a good look at it.

Thin as biopics go, the power of Abela’s portrayal elevates the film, providing a poignance and strength that’s the clearest motivation to go, go, go.

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

This latest addition surpasses expectations, honoring the source while building a muscular and even thoughtful adventure around a very ape-centric concept.

Far from a passion project, this Netflix film distinctly feels – as one of its writers says in the production notes – like a punchline in search of a movie, built on a soggy parade of sugary cameos that doesn’t provide much snap, crackle and pop.

The Idea of You will likely be most satisfying for those who choose not to sweat the details, enjoying the scenery and fantasy wrapped up in it. Think of it as one of those movies that really reinforces the adage there are no new ideas, just fresh versions of old ones set to different beats.

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.

In tennis, “love” means nothing. Love also has little to do with “Challengers,” which uses the sport as the backdrop to serve up an elaborate, non-linear psychological triangle that proves twisty and enticing for much of the match, before double faulting by whiffing on the ending.

Alas, the characters and dialogue remain clunky, which shouldn’t be surprising given how derivative almost every beat of this is, down to the robot voiced by Anthony Hopkins.

A dual attempt to breathe life into the vampire and haunted-house genres, “Abigail” could have been called “Don’t Tell Mom the Kid I’m Babysitting’s Dead.” The simple premise, however, turns into an effective little horror movie, a bit strained toward the end, but until then a clever and inventive take on six people literally just trying to make it through the night.

As war movies go, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare ends up in a kind of no-man’s land, draping elements of “Mission: Impossible,” “Inglourious Basterds” and director Guy Ritchie’s brand of violent action-comedy over the bones of a fascinating World War II true story. The underwritten, somewhat messy results are broadly entertaining if not fully seaworthy from a dramatic point of view.

The images of the US turned into a war-torn country provides a sobering dystopian backdrop for an action movie that works on that level, without lingering in the mind as long as it could or should have.

“Scoop” juggles so many timely balls it’s a bit of a shame the film doesn’t accomplish that task with more dexterity.

“Godzilla vs. Kong” director Adam Wingard and a trio of credited writers probably make the right decision in treating all this with grave earnestness, which doesn’t render most of the situations, dialogue and the climactic encounter any less laughable.

The result is a sturdy but unspectacular film, one that honors Chisholm’s place in history while representing just one, too-concentrated facet of her giant shadow.

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.

Sweeney ably carries the film on that level, though there are beats courtesy of director Michael Mohan and screenwriter Andrew Lobel as likely to elicit uncomfortable chuckles from the audience as fear.

Granted, the cast is too talented not to conjure a few amusing moments, but it’s hard to escape the sense of a movie that’s sleepwalking through the old neighborhood as opposed to playfully strolling down memory lane.

The challenge with any reboot invariably involves capturing what people liked about its inspiration while bringing fresh wrinkles to it. On that level “Road House” moderately works – specifically, for the intended audience – with the disclaimer that trying to look bigger and being bigger aren’t necessarily one and the same.

Built atop a provocative-sounding title and premise, The American Society of Magical Negroes starts and ends quite well. Almost everything in between, alas, proves uneven and inert in a way that dilutes its satirical punch, making this an interesting introduction for first-time writer-director Kobi Libii but a less than satisfying one.

The film has an old-fashioned “B movie” vibe, which, for a project headed straight to Netflix, is almost exactly as it should be. As for the feminist message wrapped into the premise, it’s merely further evidence that Brown, at the ripe old age of 20, looks like a boss both on screen and off.

Slick and briskly paced, the film incorporates its origins while conjuring enough laughs and fun to effectively deliver for parents and their cubs.

Ricky Stanicky might be imaginary and doesn’t measure up to its promise, but in terms of that basket within the wrestler-turned-actor’s filmography, it at least fits Cena like a glove.

Spaceman feels a little too weighty in its reliance on emotional cliches. Whether that’s ultimately due to the underlying material or the heavy hand brought to translating it, the net effect is a failure to launch.

Still visually dazzling and overwhelming in its scale, Dune: Part Two becomes enmeshed in the political denseness of author Frank Herbert’s world, unevenly marching through this part of the story before rather abruptly coming to an end.

Nobody should expect too much of a movie in this genre released on Valentine’s Day, and grading on that curve, Players happily punches above its weight class and exceeds expectations.

What “One Love” doesn’t do, ultimately, is provide enough material to distinguish the movie from the contours of an authorized biography or documentary. In that sense, the film pays tribute to Marley’s work but winds up hampered by a love for its subject that works against its ability to deliver major insights or rock-star-level drama.

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

Ultimately, Madame Web might have sounded like an interesting experiment, and it sort of is, but the execution feels less like a fully realized film than an extended prologue for a movie to come.

The result is an interesting misfire, yielding a few amusing moments while adding up to considerably less than the sum of its parts.

In her director’s note, Chinn explains that while considerable liberties were taken with the details of her experience, “The emotions are real.” However dark the premise might be, that part of Suncoast shines through as bright as day.

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

Cast to the hilt, the film proves inventively twisty if a little convoluted, with the modest disclaimer that it’s not as good as the trailer makes it look.

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 sort-of psychological, semi-erotic drama that, despite its literary pretensions, possesses roughly the intellectual heft of a perfume ad.

Despite the gravity of the situation (or lack thereof), the promising idea feels too weightless in the spare, underdeveloped execution, operating at the edges of a good movie without reaching that orbit.

The star’s latest film should attract flies, all right, not with honey, but rather the stale aroma of its inane premise.

Mean Girls might recycle old tropes about high school’s caste system, but for those who just want a boisterous couple of hours in a theater, it aces that test.

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.

“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.

Steeped in old-fashioned virtues and a feel-good underdog story, The Boys in the Boat isn’t bad, but it doesn’t ever navigate its way out of the shallow end of the sports-movie pool either.

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.

The best one can say about this mildly fun film is that it runs a brisk 80-something minutes, meaning parents can take the kids and have time left over for other holiday errands.

Mostly, this fun-in-the-sun romp in Australia (because hey, it’s summer there) serves as a showcase for Sydney Sweeney and Glen Powell, who amiably meet the demands of the exercise even if the script only occasionally follows suit.

“Rebel Moon” might look big and splashy, even on a TV screen, but in terms of working as drama, it’s less a rebel yell than a low-key rebel grunt.

Director James Wan again fills the screen with spectacle, some of it unevenly rendered, though even eye-popping digital effects couldn’t compensate for the frequent flatness of the dialogue and situations.

The story plays like a rather tired excuse to redo the first story with a few cosmetic tweaks, hoping to tap into adult nostalgia while potentially attracting a new generation of kids.

Ultimately, American Fiction raises questions about the price of Black success in a White-dominated media and entertainment culture. What it doesn’t do, while maintaining its satirical edge and eye, is provide any easy answers.

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

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

Funny, sentimental, and anchored as always by Tony Shalhoub’s “defective detective,” it’s a worthy follow-up that goes beyond just being a nostalgic exercise.

Sara Bareilles headlines this adaptation for which she wrote the lilting songs, in a show that manages to be alternately sweet and silly, touching and raunchy.

Wonka only sporadically conjures cinematic magic, and most of those moments owe an oversized debt to tying directly into the earlier movie based on Roald Dahl’s story, as opposed to carving its own path for a new generation.

Thriller 40 consciously and effectively brings the focus back to the music and the thrills he delivered as a performer. As for the ability to keep the rest of his story at bay while watching it, that will likely depend on one’s level of Jackson fandom.

In the charitable spirit of the season, Candy Cane Lane serves as a passable addition to the annual parade of holiday movies trotted out each year. Yet even by that unexacting standard, there’s barely enough juice here to keep the lights on.

Watching Cooper and Mulligan portray their characters across decades, it’s hard not to be impressed, while nurturing a greater appreciation for why Cooper found Bernstein’s contributions and complications deserving of such a tribute.

Wish doesn’t quite reach the stars, but it does shine intermittently while introducing another plucky teenage female heroine, gamely voiced by Ariana DeBose.

Despite a glittering pedigree, the result is an earnest film deficient in the inspirational qualities of its subject matter.

Ultimately, Next Goal Wins derives most of its modest charm from the film’s sheer unpretentiousness, which also makes it light enough to feel fairly disposable, despite being equipped with likable characters and scenic locales.

There’s obviously some talent at work here, but not much in the way of stretching, and the initial energy and sheer dorkiness doesn’t generate enough laughs – some decidedly low-brow (like John’s fascination with videos of mating animals), others cleverer – to sustain a movie.

Splitting the movie into three chapters seems appropriate, since the film delivers a trifecta: overwrought, overacted, and overlong.

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.”

The film, while technically superb, feels like it wins several battles but doesn’t entirely qualify as a success in terms of the overall war.

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.

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.

Clocking in at a welcomely brisk 105 minutes, it’s Marvel’s shortest film, but a lighter tone that occasionally borders on a sort of cosmic “Freaky Friday” doesn’t consistently make the movie fly, much less soar.

The movie lives up to both halves of its title: The Holdovers gets a hold on you, while looming over most stories built around the simple idea that families are often defined by what you make of them, not what you inherit.

Sly possesses value as a pop-culture record, letting an influential talent tell their story to those weaned on their work. Compared to the best of that fertile genre, though, it’s more of a lightweight than a genuine contender.

Overall, though, the documentary provokes the dispiriting sense that while people with conflicting views can talk, when the gap’s this wide and the unwavering belief to disinformation this toxic, there’s almost no way to make them hear.

A fairly limp documentary.

The dramatic height difference between the leads accomplishes a great deal of work in “Priscilla,” visually conveying the power disparity between superstar Elvis Presley and Priscilla Beaulieu, who he began wooing when she was just 14. Unfortunately, writer-director Sofia Coppola’s version of this oft-told story moves at a snail’s pace, offering fine performances but little to set one’s soul – or anything else – on fire.

Like “It,” “Five Nights” wants to milk horror out of something associated with the innocence of childhood, and on that level the quirkiness of the visuals and initial moments of wit likely provide enough of what audiences want to survive, commercially speaking. Even so, the net result is another slice of horror that at best feels a little half-baked.

Burr’s fans will doubtless find plenty to like in “Old Dads,” even if the movie sandpapers down his rough edges and causes him to question his cave-man mentality.

There’s a difference between “long” and “epic,” although in movie terms the two frequently get confused. Martin Scorsese delivers the former but not the latter with Killers of the Flower Moon.

Those who fell victim to the over-the-top animosity directed at Amber Heard during the Johnny Depp trial – as chronicled in the docuseries “Depp v. Heard” – will alas have fresh ammunition thanks to “In the Fire,” a pretty awful starring vehicle for the actor that she also produced, a film unlikely to produce many sparks beyond those set off by the morbidly curious.

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