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.

García’s latest film is a predictable, completely fine, but uneventful dramedy that never quite finds a way to dig itself out of mediocrity.

Its dialogue is constructed in a way that would sound unnatural even in a daytime soap opera, and Kruger works her best to save it, but there’s only so much she can do. The story is so poorly developed it feels like an outline of a script, all in favor of a final plot twist that would be jaw-dropping…in the 1930s.

The Out-Laws has a workable premise with a great star-studded cast led by a sincere DeVine and is funny with great potential outside its humor. But it never hits the mark and only works in pieces due to recycled ideas and formulaic tropes across clichéd writing.

While its predecessor proved to be a goofy and satisfying watch, the sequel is never able to fully recapture the charm. You're much better off rewatching the first film.

There is never a moment when you're swept away by the romance of Walt and Sophie and that should be the point of all of this.

After a decade away, Jeunet has returned to embrace all of his worst eccentricities to create an absurd mess.

For all the classic horror stories it gestures at, Killer Book Club never is able to tell a memorable one of its own. No matter how many empty escalations and confrontations with the killer it makes its way through, the real clown show is the film itself.

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

I'm never one to complain about a 98-minute action movie, but, in the end, In the Grey feels rushed. Some extra time could have not only paid off all that planning Sid and Bronco do in more impressive ways, but also given the characters more space to feel like actual characters, as opposed to just standard-issue tough-guy archetypes.

Renner lands as a forgettable and tedious watch, made worthwhile only by surprisingly dynamic performances from the small ensemble cast.

For now, stick with the original.

Bionic is another sci-fi dud for Netflix, bringing nothing new to the genre and not much more to its action sequences.

The vibe of Him is trying to make the audience unnerved, but the story and imagery being presented are too goofy to take this attempt seriously.

Blood and Honey 2 still isn’t exactly “good,” and it might be a bit premature to start working on a sprawling Poohniverse, but considering the dregs this series began at, this is a flawed improvement that’s still a bear of little brain.

Lilo & Stitch feels like it was made by a boardroom of folks who wanted to sell more Stitch merchandise. Chris Sanders and Maia Kealoha have enough charm to keep families entertained, but it's also hard to deny that these two characters are just as, if not more, endearing in a film you can watch right now on Disney+.

For all of its dourness, there is still a bit of entertainment to be found. It's just too bad the film is taking itself far too seriously.

Despite Rebel Wilson's signature comedy and her reunion with Pitch Perfect co-star Anna Camp, there is little that can justify an audience member giving this film a chance.

Beyond some decent performances that aren’t done justice by this script, and some fairly wild leaps into horror, Forbidden Fruits isn’t ripe, it’s just rotten.

Come for Lohan, stay for Harding, and watch until the end for Kristin Chenoweth — all while ignoring some of the most robotic dialogue your ears ever heard.

While it's always a pleasure to see Yeoh kick butt and take names among the stars, Section 31 wastes her talents as well as its own premise on a middling heist movie devoid of anything that might actually identify it as a Star Trek movie.

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.

Instead of burrowing into their differing ideas about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness and how they differ based on class and background, Anna and Jamie’s romance is based entirely on them exchanging progressively earnest platitudes, quotes taken from centuries-old poetry that the script dumbs down and shoehorns into every moment between the couple.

Most people are likely clicking on this film for Foxx and Diaz, and they, too, do their best with what they’re given, but the dull, exposition-heavy script never gives them the chance to flex any of their dramatic muscles, and they rarely get to be truly funny either.

There’s a fascinating and beautiful true story at the core of Ordinary Angels, but the bland way it’s told does it a massive disservice.

Old Guy looks the part of a classic, character-based action-thriller, but, ultimately, the script is far too flimsy for the film to coalesce into something interesting. It's too bad, as Waltz could almost certainly crush in one of these, given the right material.

The fate of fetch may be up in the air, but Mean Girls as a musical movie? That's clearly not going to happen.

It's a Frankenstein'ed monstrosity made of different horror approaches, except instead of bringing something to life, unrevivable ideas remain limp and useless.

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

Ultimately, the concept behind The Virgin of the Quarry Lake might have embodied Mariana Enriquez's short stories, but it feels too jumbled and fails to meet its full potential.

As the film attempts to weave itself into a screwball comedy, it unexpectedly bobs into a weak character study, skewing situations and characters while never quite touching the ground or giving us reason to care.

Uppercut, by director Torsten Ruether, benefits from Ving Rhames' strong screen presence, but a lack of believability in both character development and plotting keep the character study from working.

Seinfeld has made a directorial debut that ends up feeling like a bowl of sugary cereal: not a terrible thing to eat, but not as fulfilling or substantial as you might’ve hoped it would be.

It all leads to a final fight that should feel epic but ends up being more disappointment.

Although the cast does what they can with a script that never cuts deeper than the surface, their performances aren't enough to give Regretting You the emotional resonance expected from a story like this.

The Gallerist is a disappointment, especially considering that Yan’s last movie as director was the vastly underrated DC film, Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) from 2020, a hyper-stylized, playful, and unconventional take on the superhero genre. It would’ve been wonderful to see that version of Yan here, creating an unhinged look at the art world that was experimental, spirited, and daring in the way that film was.

It's a film that you start desperately wanting to like, perhaps because it deceives you into believing it is something other than a violent power fantasy. As the film comes to a close, all that is left is a sour taste in your mouth.

I see dead people in this film, but their cause of death is simply boredom.

Dreams is probably the same old story for Michel Franco fans, but as a first-time viewer, I was in awe of how a film could go so wrong so quickly.

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

One or two jokes might cause a titter, but the other ninety-eight percent of this unfunny deflation has nothing to offer but hormonal awkwardness without the gut-busting payoff.

The pieces are all there for a perfect summer favorite, so it’s a shame that none of them really come together to form a cohesive whole.

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.

There are fractured elements that, with a little polish, could’ve been something much more, but this is just a generic, unremarkable horror film.

A lot is going on all at once, but little of it coheres into anything substantive, let alone actually memorable or meaningful.

'The Home' is a lame horror misfire saved only by its unhinged third act.

What saves this movie is Taylor-Joy and Teller. Though their in-person scenes aren't nearly as endearing as their scenes with each other across the gorge, the two do have great chemistry. They're interesting to watch together, especially during their action scenes.

Even during the fantasy musical numbers, which give cover to stray from the overall aesthetics of the film, Phillips is just incapable of delivering the genre’s requisite razzle dazzle that would surely complement Joker’s persona.

Suffice it to say, Captain America: Brave New World is not the 2025 start that Marvel fans may be hoping for, with more pressure now being put on Thunderbolts* and The Fantastic Four: First Steps. If anything, the film has more in common with Sony's disastrous attempts to make its own Marvel movies than it does with the prior entries that turned the MCU into what it is today.

Despite a top-tier cast and bone-rattling action to keep you engaged, the Netflix flick buckles under a cluttered story with chaotic execution. It’s watchable, even entertaining in bursts — but beneath all the bruises and broken bones, there’s not much else to hold onto.

Much like the city being built in the film, it’s all more interesting in theory than it ever is in actuality. Now that we will all have the chance to take it in for ourselves, the greatest revelation is that there just isn’t that much there to see.

Bloat really doesn’t seem like a movie that knows what it wants to be.

There are masterful works of horror that have proven less can be more. Despite some of its promise, Baghead is not one of them.

Watching the movie is like seeing a concert from a seat in the back corner. You're still there for the music, but you have the view furthest away from the artist himself.

All in all, the movie is a series of missed opportunities to create compelling storylines, and it's a shame that it doesn't use anything it presents on the screen to its advantage.

Unfortunately, Bubble & Squeak far more often embraces the ridiculous more than the realistic, and ultimately struggles to combine these two into a whole that works.

Those hoping to see their favorite killer Fisherman tackle some fun action sequences will get their money's worth, even if the villain's resolution will raise a lot of eyebrows. If you're looking for something deeper, like fleshed-out characters both new and old and a twisted mystery tale, then this newest installment doesn't hit the mark.

Unfortunately, Love Hurts never does its stars justice as a lazily slapped-together action-comedy with a script that feels like it never had a second draft.

Winner is a bold idea that almost immediately proves itself to be a misconceived mess.

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.

Young Werther isn't a terrible movie by any stretch, but it also feels like it relies far too heavily on your typical romantic-comedy clichés for it to stick out. It's a shame, as Booth and Pill are insanely sweet together, but the execution ultimately feels too unremarkable to be memorable.

The Garfield Movie is silly to a fault, feels seventeen hours long, and lacks any pulse of life.

Varley's talents as a director are evident for the first half at least, but after that, The Astronaut becomes a head-scratcher.

To its credit, there are some decent gore scenes, and the practical makeup is done well, but not enough to distract from some pretty laughable special effects. Compared to the original and even the 2010 version that won the Oscar for Best Makeup, Whannell’s version isn’t breaking any new ground.

Unfortunately, Dark Match never quite settles on what kind of horror movie it wants to be, and, too often, its overall tone doesn't play to the strengths of its premise.

What starts as a promising storyline soon dwindles as tired tropes take center stage and no sparks fly between the main pair.

Stitch Head has the vibe of a teenager trying to reach the minimum word count on an essay: as long as it gets done on time, then that's the main thing.

Duchess is a flat and forgettable riff on Guy Ritchie classics that doesn't have an ounce of the wit, charm, or glorious mayhem.

The lure of some solid '90s nostalgia should be good enough bait for a compelling story, but unfortunately, the only thing that Monster Summer reels in is a story that we've all heard a hundred times before.

Outcome is clearly coming from a personal place for Hill. It doesn't come across as too bitter or full of self-pity, but the point of the movie is never made fully clear. It moves at too quick a pace to leave much of an impact, and it's a bit of a tonal nightmare.

Brick fails to offer a compelling solution to its central mystery.

It wants you to buy into the heart and the humor without earning either.

Whimsical in concept but hollow in execution, Eternal Return drifts aimlessly despite Naomi Scott's glow.

Sarah Paulson breathes life into a so-so script, but the film's slow pace and lack of strong horror hold it back.

A short runtime kills any character development and tension.

For all the charm and innovation that That Christmas is going for, it ends up being a predictable and rather deflated movie that is playing to a much younger audience than it lets on.

We Are Zombies wants to be like Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland, though lacks the cleverness to pull this off.

For a horror-comedy, it's not funny, and it's not scary. It's a very strange amalgamation of little drops of each of these things, heavily diluted within what is largely a romantic drama, and as such, every time it tries to be funny or scary, it feels out of place and uncomfortable.

Edward Berger's latest is all style and no substance, despite giving Colin Farrell a weird role to sink his teeth into.

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

Madelyn Cline and KJ Apa engage in a summer romance that neither makes your swoon nor sob.

It's a cluttered mess of a movie that should have scaled back, stuck to the basics, and delivered what we were all hoping for: over-the-top ratty carnage.

The film does so little work to make me care about the girl that came before Rosemary that I simply found myself wondering how she was going to die to properly set up the events of the original.

For a story that should be brimming with intrigue, danger, and the horrors of inventing your own reality, The Wizard of the Kremlin is instead a bloated, tiring recitation of facts that doesn't know how to elevate its dark subject matter.

It's evident Cave tried her best to steer the ship, but the story feels aimless, and moments after things get interesting, Holland cuts to credits, leaving you equally puzzled and burned out.

There is something occasionally charming about Outlaw Posse. Alas, charm can only get you so far when a film resembles more of a scattered work of cosplay than a robust cinematic work.

Mob Cops has an interesting true story at its heart, and a talented central cast to convey it, but there are self-imposed limitations baked into its core. There may have been a great movie here, but it simply doesn't achieve that potential.

Dirty Angels is often too serious and too overtly political for its own good.

There's definite potential in Andy Edwards. He needs to up the camp and spend a little longer at the drawing board, streamlining his vision and considering what he wants to do with his next project. Whatever it ends up being, I look forward to seeing it.

With The Greatest Hits, Benson gives us the film equivalent of an album with a cool cover that masks the inadequate record within.

It all falls apart as there are no personal touches, character specificities, or horror sensibilities that fill in the many gaps of this hollow script.

None of the action scenes have any passion to them and, even worse, they can feel downright contrived. That it then pretends to have something more to say strains credulity.

Even as Butterfield continues to try to bring something resembling gravitas towards the end of the film, it all just peters out. No matter how many quick cuts and bursts of sound it throws at you, everything it goes for falls flat on its back.

It is inorganic, gimmicky, manipulative, and its lessons are simplistic.

If the 1940 Pinocchio showed that any wish your heart desires could come true, this remake shows what happens when your nightmares come to life.

Boy Kills World comes across as obnoxious, and the viewer already feels exhausted within the first 15 minutes of the film. It's as if the creative team wanted to make a cult movie but completely forgot cult movies have to be fun.

You can tell that everybody on the set of Old Dads was having an absolute blast making this movie. It's just a shame that the end product feels so directionless and bland. The attempts to be offensive fail, the emotional beats are never effective, and despite a handful of good laughs and amusing cameos, it's never that funny.

Paint is an odd attempt to make a comedy while also doing the least amount to make that comedy actually funny.