Sarah Friedland's directorial debut is a visually striking but shallow exploration of dementia.

While Haynes isn't at his best with May December, a talented cast and an intriguing story make the film an entertaining exercise all the same.

Laxe is aiming to shock the audience, and in that, he succeeds, but the final product suffers as a result.

Silver's vision doesn't always work, sometimes feeling like a mishmash of ideas and tones that don't always go well together. But when the film focuses on this central relationship, Between the Temples finds a lovely sweet spot that makes it all sing.

The film does show that Gomes is capable of making an authentic period piece and a stunning documentary, but the attempt of trying to do both at the same time has led to an unusual experiment that will leave one scratching their head.

You’ll Never Find Me gets lost in its own madness. Its ending is less ambiguous and more thoughtless.

At the end of the day, Soft & Quiet shows a shocking and unbelievable series of events that are meant to cause a reaction and leave the audience with thought-provoking questions. This is not a film for the faint of heart, and might just leave you a bit shell-shocked in the aftermath.

The Mastermind vascillates between wanting to lean into the thrills of a heist and falling back on Reichardt's tried-and-true formula. The result is a confusing mix of tones with a fairly basic concept that rarely dips below the surface.

An intriguing formal experiment from Steven Soderbergh, focused on two solid performances by Sir Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel.

Measures for a Funeral is brimming with style and painstakingly researched, but the fact Bohdanowicz seems to insist on showcasing every tiny detail she discovered at the sacrifice of making a leaner, more focused, and riveting story causes a dissonance that makes it feel dead on arrival.

The ultimate ambiguity might be enough for some to praise Lin's work, but there's simply not enough to chew on by the end of the story for it to be a resounding success.

Io Capitano fails its stirring lead performance with generic filmmaking and storytelling impulses.

Instead of a flowing narrative, it’s a series of scenes, the worst and best parts of their 13-year relationship, and doesn’t come together well enough to feel like a complete story. This combined with the lack of Coppola’s vibrant, feminine, and electric aesthetic makes Priscilla a major disappointment from a true cinematic visionary who's capable of better.

Though there are shocking moments, it mostly plays things safe, refusing to fully embrace the intensity it occasionally flirts with.

Tafdrup defangs his feature in the final act, choosing to forego the road less traveled, completely breaking up the tension of an otherwise uncomfortable, tension-filled story.

Ultimately, Dìdi's problem is that it is charming but aimless. Izaac Wang is perfectly cast as Chris, and he has amazing chemistry with this cast, but there just isn't enough to go off of. It feels like we're looking into a vignette of someone's life rather than taking in a fully realized story.

All held together by a transcendent performance from Imogen Poots, The Chronology of Water isn’t the strongest directorial debut, but it does hold glimpses of what Stewart is capable of.

If viewers manage to sync with this specific wavelength, they will definitely enjoy Sen’s methodical noir deconstruction. Still, it might be asking too much from the audience, especially where there’s so little payoff to be found in this corner of the Australian outback.

Given that the two leads in this project don't seem to have a clear driving force to their actions, this feminist thriller does more to show the challenges that women face than to create fully developed characters. Although the film does end with a bang, these missteps leading up to the resolution make the final scene bittersweet.

Road Diary: Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band is a straightforward yet enjoyable trip with one of the best live bands ever to exist. Yet considering the story that this tour has told so far, it's a bit of a shame that Zimny's documentary doesn't explore the entirety of what this road diary had to offer.

After pushing up against the confines of a conventional musical biopic, it does end up mostly operating within them, hitting all the notes you’d expect it to hit, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t ring mostly true when it counts.

Father Mother Sister Brother does have little pockets of Jarmusch's genius scattered throughout, but not enough to make up for how unfulfilling the entire experience is.

The actors do well working in Manuel’s specific directing style — one that’s characterized by unhurried dialogue — it’s just that the style doesn’t always resonate, tamping some of its power instead of enhancing it. Filipiñana is a feast for the eyes, but you’ll likely still leave hungry due to the punishingly slow pacing.

It's a nice slice-of-life character-driven film, which is always great to see, but there is very little drama or conflict to keep the viewer invested past the colorful animation.

Occupied City starts off strong, but after the intermission, you can feel how aimless the documentary is at times, with the final act feeling almost excruciatingly long.

Last Summer’s solid performances elevate it, but it never reaches the heights it could by digging more deeply into the themes and more firmly grounding us in the characters and their emotions.

It may not be the terrifying marvel some Raimi fans are hoping for, but it's still an entertaining enough watch that makes an SOS unnecessary.

Carmoon establishes a plot that could have been great, but becomes too caught up in the visuals of it all, and the script pays the price.

When we get to the end of its hefty runtime, we get the sensation that La Cocina tried to be several things — an investigative thriller, a fish-out-of-water drama, a delirious trip of a man who’s starting to get burnt out — and didn’t manage to take any of them all the way.

DuVernay took a big swing with Origin, and that’s certainly to be commended, but the film sadly doesn’t work more often than it does. The impact of the end makes the journey worthwhile, but it’s a rocky road to that conclusion.

A House of Dynamite begins explosively, but unfortunately, it ends up fizzling out.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight is a fascinating indie flick with enough pull to find its audience. Davidtz does well enough with her first feature, and the story, along with Venter’s incredible performance, is more than enough to pique the audience’s interest enough to perhaps pick up the memoir.

My Father’s Dragon abandons a truly heartfelt storyline with complex layers in favor of a generic adventure with vague threats, vague solutions, and predictable outcomes.

Bird ultimately reads as Arnold “playing the hits” with a narrative she fundamentally knows how to stage in her sleep. Ultimately it feels too familiar, even with the welcome magical realism additions and a hallucinogenic slime secreting toad. Arnold fans will no doubt find plenty to latch onto with Bird, but it’s unlikely to convert non-believers.

Despite beautiful shots and strong performances in the film, what ultimately comes up lacking is the story.

Emergency is ambitious and daring in what it’s trying to say and do, but a mishandling of pacing, serious issues, and pseudo-parody hurt what is a truly intriguing concept.

If The Killer teaches us anything, it’s that any director, no matter how legendary they are, can fall victim to a bad script. While Fincher’s iconic style permeates the two-hour runtime, the hollow plot and uninspired writing are impossible to ignore.

Berg’s documentary is at its strongest when it focuses on the musical legacy that Buckley was so concerned about that he would leave behind, and less so when it tries to delve deeper into who Buckley was as a person.

It's considerably elevated by strong performances and some excellent directorial and cinematographic choices, but it ultimately is undone by details and narrative pivots that don't work.

Poulter's acting keeps it afloat ultimately, but there are moments when the desire to focus on the recovery journey overshadows the actual story at the heart of the film. Ultimately, Union County is a respectable debut for Meeks, but in trying to do too much, it fails to land on solid ground by the time the film is over.

Mad About the Boy is the disappointing end to a franchise that should have never gone beyond its first sequel.

For all the promise of its main cast and sturdy thriller premise, The Menu is a work that seems destined to slip from your mind.

There’s a lot to like about Seeking Mavis Beacon, and the documentary is at its best when it feels like a celebration and tribute to the technology and its elusive cover model. Overwhelming and chaotic editing choices, however, detract from its overall impact, and what makes the film authentic and special threatens to get drowned out.

While Disco Boy is gorgeous to look at, a more coherent script would have done wonders to hold the movie together.

Watchmen: Chapter 1 is a compelling curiosity, but never matches the power of its source material, and, if anything, should make people turn to the graphic novel instead of checking out yet another adaptation.

It’s a shame that such a solid set of performances are brought down by an underlying thread of jingoism, one that’s hard to put too fine a point on until the film’s final scene. The final shot of the film is a punch to the throat, a distinct flourish on Friedkin’s part that I absolutely adored, but its origins leave me feeling more than slightly queasy.

The Survivor is too frequently going through the motions of tried-and-true biopic stories that we’ve seen countless times before, or making choices that seem daring, but ultimately hold back the power of Harry’s story.

As a complete portrait of youth on the cusp of the rest of their lives, it never manages to be authentically sharp enough to transcend the more tiresome narrative trappings it falls into and a grating over reliance on musical cues as punchlines.

Unicorns seems like a much older movie, torn from an era in which queer people were not allowed to tell their own stories, instead being reduced to secondary characters in straight plots.

Given Almodóvar’s established penchant for melodrama and that the subject is euthanasia, the film is strangely aloof. It never reduces the proceedings to Lifetime territory or patronizes moviegoers in the process. It does, however, leave you to wonder a bit about the indifference you might ultimately come away with yourself.

It’s never as deep as it thinks it is (or has the potential to be), but as long as you go in simply wanting a nasty, gorgeous, unhinged ride, you’ll leave the rollercoaster satisfied — and probably a little nauseous, too.

While Comer makes a committed effort to carry the film, it falls flat in its excessive filler, undeveloped characters, and symphony of bonkers accents.

As Ibsen’s play has shown, even a century after its writing, this is still a story with life in it, and DaCosta’s take modernizes it in deft ways. However, the questionable way DaCosta's film goes about it doesn’t do the story justice, making this a party that fizzles out long before the last guest has left.

The Friend's heart is in the right place, but it can't get out of its own way.

Man is a true mixed bag. The action is staggeringly impressive, both from a visual and storytelling standpoint, but the material in between runs the risk of deflating the experience via pacing problems and narrative confusion.

There is a good film in The Harbinger that we catch glimpses of in moments of horror and the conversations we do get to see play out. It just is struggling to break through the uncertain confines of the story it is trapped in.

It's a deliberately-paced drama with some decent performances and a gorgeously dark aesthetic, but lacks the time or effort to give these stories what they need.

It’s pretty easy to fall in love with Ari and Dante, but the movie is only in love with the idea of them, neglecting quality time between the characters that would really make us feel like they've traveled through galaxies and beyond.

Performances are the spectacle, and both actors do a tremendous job translating the worst feeling any parent can experience. It all depends on your patience for slow-burn horrors, and if there's enough nightmare fuel to stay along for the ride.

It is a work that is so caught up in the noise that it drowns out the moments of the profound silence that could have spoken to something more.

The Greatest Night in Pop is a worthy story in its own right, but a bit more of the director's touch could've done justice to this gigantic achievement of pop music history.

The Luckiest Man in America is a strong story when it sticks to the facts, and Hauser is undeniably an excellent choice for this role, but the film really presses its luck by taking such huge liberties with the facts.

The texture that gives vibrancy to these types of understated stories just isn’t there, ensuring that what little there is to grasp onto soon slips away as well.

Stranger Eyes is a cold, disjointed, and stale mystery thriller with a thin plot and no atmosphere.

Out of Darkness is an often jaw-dropping horror debut that arrives at a more substantive conclusion that makes everything more interesting in retrospect.

Cronenberg certainly still knows how to create arresting imagery and craft stories that can make the audience squirm, but the story that isn’t being told with Crimes of the Future is far more interesting than the one he has decided to focus on, which often feels like regurgitating concepts he’s already handled before.

V/H/S/Halloween is dark and demented, and is the funniest movie of this franchise. But if the V/H/S series just turned it down a notch and tried some different storytelling formats, the next one could be even better.

A Private Life is worth exploring simply for the performance by Foster, which keeps this story moving the best she can, despite the screenplay’s constant starts and stops. If anything, the real mystery of A Private Life is why we don’t get to see Foster on our screens more these days.

Like the title character himself, Jay Kelly is a film that has good intentions, but doesn’t have the follow-through to make good on those promises.

Even though zi isn’t quite the powerhouse of independent cinema that films like Columbus and After Yang were, it does feel like the work that Kogonada needed to do in order to right his sails and figure out where to go next.

While Park injects his own joie de vivre to his on-screen performances as an actor, there is a distinct lackluster quality to Shortcomings in its biggest moments. It feels, at times, generic. The story, penned by Tomine, still holds the same feelings for me as the graphic novel, which is to say that at least they provoke thought, but Park’s own style feels far from refined.

What ultimately weighs it down is the lack of a core narrative to ground the chaos and madness around it. Still, come for the views, the insanity, and Cage giving away a priceless watch for a flat white.

While her first outing as a writer-director is a mixed bag, Kravitz shows undeniable potential to join the ranks of performers who are equally exciting behind the camera as in front of it.

If you want to give the 2024 film as fair a shot as possible, go in without seeing the original. However, if you only want to devote your time to seeing one version of this story, it should be the original Speak No Evil. It's truly one of the darkest, meanest, and most devastating horror films out there

Despite solid directing, effects, and production design at various points, The Kitchen doesn't explore its futuristic dystopia nearly as profoundly as it could.

The film isn’t without its flaws and weird choices, but the fact that it works at all is a testament to the Zellner brothers and this incredible cast being willing to give their all for such a deranged idea.

Though it assembles some of the right ingredients before laying them out before you, it never proceeds to arrange them in any particularly interesting or entertaining way.

Chumbawamba was clearly a band that wanted to do great things and fell short of that goal, and similarly, I Get Knocked Down is a curious concept to explore, but gets bogged down in its apparent attempts to be weird for the sake of being weird.

Satire is one of the trickiest things to translate from page to screen and White Noise never really cuts as deep as it should because the communication of the jokes is so rushed — via DeLillo’s style that’s quicker to process on the page than it is to export to the screen.

The film does pull out all the stops for the finale but, for nearly every moment it stands tall in this conclusion, it also stumbles and falls in the getting there.

While All of You features powerhouse performances from Brett Goldstein and Imogen Poots and some sharp, witty writing from Bridges and Goldstein himself, the film aims high but lacks clear stakes, making this love story difficult to invest in, with underwhelming sci-fi further muddling the heartrending, but ultimately unfulfilling romance.

If you come solely for the comedic stylings of four powerhouse actors, Mountainhead will certainly win you over if you don't take it too seriously. But should you expect a scathing takedown of Big Tech's best and brightest, the movie will act largely as a reminder that watching a bunch of rich guys spout off ignorant crap inevitably gets old and adds nothing to the conversation.

Steve is an adequate film about teachers, students, and the struggles that they both go through, but it’s also hard not to think that a bit more insight into the lives of the students earlier on — particularly from the perspective of Shy — could’ve made this into something even more special.

It is moody and creepy, though perhaps not brave enough to wander into true melodrama or bizarre fantasy. In the end, its performances and the way it incorporates Gothic elements, along with a strong visual aesthetic, make the film a worthwhile watch.

Where the script falls short, Norton and Dunne pick up the slack and carry these characters through to the finish line.

Father of the Bride has its heart in the right place, trying to adapt this beloved story for another generation and audience, but by shifting too much away from the traditions of the past, Father of the Bride doesn’t have the same magic that its previous versions have been able to generate.

While parts of it are laudable, unfortunately, Emmi’s film feels underbaked, never truly elevating its story to generate the kind of deeper effect that similar thrillers have managed to elicit.

It works for about half an hour, but its excess of panache eventually gets tiring, and the story's seams are just too frail to hold it together. Still, those dance sequences are really something.

Crater's stakes are low for its characters and the audience. It abuses clichés, never deviates from its formulaic script, and fails to surprise the viewer.

V/H/S/Beyond falls in the middle of the pack for the franchise. It's not as terrifying as the first film, and nowhere near as bad as V/H/S/Viral. Instead, it's more on par with recent entries.

There’s promise, but Vengeance at times feels like a West Texas version of Under the Silver Lake, but without the focus and care. Unfortunately, Ben’s editor was right, Vengeance is more a theory than a story.

When it's sexy, violent, or bonkers, it's a wildly enjoyable romp, and lead Sydney Sweeney kills it any time she's allowed to dial emotions up to 10 (as fans of Euphoria or Immaculate can attest to). Was it great? For the majority of its runtime, no. Would I watch the sequel it teases? Yes. Inside you are two wolves, and if they're watching The Housemaid in different parts, the one watching the ending is the happier wolf by far.

It ends up in an odd space between psychological thriller and straight-up jump-scare horror that unfortunately drags down an otherwise compelling film.

It might not be a future genre classic, but thanks to Courtney's utmost commitment to his villainous role, you'll be glad you dipped your toes in the water by the time the credits roll.

Oh, Canada is a more reflective work from Paul Schrader with plenty on its mind that still falls short of his best works.

There are no easy answers, and Nuisance Bear presents none of them.

There are very few classic hallmarks of horror films in The Black Phone. They arrive in the third act, but before that, it is a lot of… nothing. Talking. No cat-and-mouse chasing. No killing. Not even any suspense.

Ultimately, there's much to enjoy in Sharper, with a premise that offers intrigue and a strong group of performances, but it falls flat at the end, unwilling to dig deeper into its characters or the meaning behind its story.