If the filmmakers behind The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee can’t even bother to properly honor that legacy by putting in the kind of effort he did, then you’re better off just picking up one of his many Hammer films instead.

It’s artistic, ravenous, and boundless in a way that honors the spirits of the New French Extremity movement. MadS is the kind of horror experience that feels like you’re new to the genre again — and oh what a glorious feeling that is.

The Bibi Files may not be the poison pill that knocks the Netanyahus from power the way that those on screen may be calling for, but it’s still a powerful presentation of the facts without ever devolving into being a mere polemic.

All Shall Be Well is a simple story overflowing with carefully crafted details that raises interesting and little-explored questions about gay rights, how we honor the dead, and how easily selfishness can seep in and poison us out of doing what we know is right.

Elton John: Never Too Late feels like the definitive authorized film biography, and plugs a very important hole in telling his story in honest yet compelling ways.

Malcolm Washington shows himself to be a capable director, expanding this story in the ways he can while staying true to the source material. This cast also knows how to elevate Wilson's words beautifully, whether it's sticking close to a more stagelike performance or bringing new life to this story, as Deadwyler does.

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.

Samuel Van Grinsven’s ambient and meandering ghost story is undoubtedly a haunting concept with committed performances and effective elements, but the film just can’t help but overstay its welcome.

For Andrews, Bring Them Down is a capable, intriguing debut, but it needs more depth than this revenge tale has to offer.

Meet the Barbarians provides a light yet engaging look into how communities are built and maintained, and how differing aspects of their identities can form something better when people of disparate backgrounds are brought together.

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.

Ty Roberts’ inspirational sports drama You Gotta Believe relies on age-old playbooks to a fault. It’s a true story and a surefire tear-jerker, but Lane Garrison’s screenplay is reductively hokey at the worst times.

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.

As a film that thrives on its leads’ undeniable chemistry, Wolfs draws most of its strength from Clooney and Pitt’s effortless interplay, despite its narrative shortcomings. But for fans of light-hearted action comedies, Wolfs is a howling good time — even if it doesn’t quite sink its teeth in for a lasting bite.

Boong is a rich coming-of-age tale that touches on important issues without ever losing its playful tone or big heart.

In the end, Chapman’s film serves as a portrait of a family rendered in three dimensions, capturing both the strength and human frailties of these individuals in a detailed fashion.

The finale could use a little honing (greater context, a little more clarity, some tighter thematic context and background information), but it's still full of enough twists, tension, and surprises to have a solid time at the theater that audiences will be thinking about afterward.

This is the story of one who stood up, with all his faults and flaws, one whose ideology you may not agree with, but whose capacity to show justifiable rage speaks for those too cowardly to act. It’s here that Pink’s film derives its most impressive impact, and while few may mourn for The Last Republican as both the nation and the world race toward a chaotic, uncertain future, the end result is easily one of the best docs of the year.

The end result is a highly entertaining, highly provocative film that brings the best of a revenge thriller with a boost of a bit of deeper cultural expression.

Queer might not be everyone's vibe, especially when it gets wild in the final third, but there's something in the way that Guadagnino brings all these elements together and crafts his own story out of Burroughs' novel that continues his growth as an essential filmmaker of today.

The story navigates the fine line between community pride and nationalistic zeal, providing lessons for a future while admitting to the existential futility of it all. We can shift our perspective, but every time we do, things stay pretty much the same.

Despite its occasional flaws, The Brutalist is one of the most remarkable films of the year, and proof that Corbet is a fascinating filmmaker to keep an eye on.

With energetic dance sequences and a heartwarming bond between a father and a son, K-Pops! is a bundle of joy that rarely misses a beat.

With bold performances, a strong vision for the source material, and a wise decision to focus on this under-represented portion of this narrative, The Return makes for an effective character piece that proves these stories are not only timeless, they’re as timely as ever.

When the Light Breaks recognizes there is somewhat of a delicate yet feral nature that humans exude while in the throes of anguish. Gone is the poise and self-control we put on with our clothes for the world each day, and out emerge some of the most animalistic qualities we regularly stifle.

The film is indeed reminiscent of other satirical comedy horror flicks of times past, but it still has its own unique soul. And thank goodness it exists in our realm!

With clever lyrics, punchy tunes, and a committed cast, this is another jewel in the crown of Australian musical films, a worthy watch even for those cynical about such unabashed flights of tuneful fancy.

Heretic is a clever twist on the religious horror genre, bolstered by three strong performances, particularly Grant’s gregarious yet haunting Mr. Reed.

Friendship truly has all the makings of a future comedy classic.

Even with striking visuals that offer compelling depth and beauty to Minahan’s overall look, the film’s inability to keep a consistent pace and tone, or even establish its primary focus through its leads undercuts its biggest, most poignant messages.

The main reason why The Penguin Lessons is sweet, but also poignant, is due to the script's keen eye for comedy in the face of a tumultuous backdrop.

Featuring sidesplitting performances from its stacked cast and some gnarly, shocking twists, Dito Montiel's Riff Raff is as fun as it is jaw-dropping, and will keep you entranced (and at times mildly disturbed), for its entire wacky runtime.

Emilia Pérez boasts a remarkable trifecta of performances, but Jacques Audiard's ambitious project tries to do a bit too much.

Saturday Night is a loving celebration of SNL that captures the spirit of trying to put on a live comedy show every week.

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

Though powered by incredible performances and worldbuilding, what truly leads The Assessment to have an exceptional final product is its refreshingly original premise. The script, written by John Donelly, Nell Garfath Cox, and Dave Thomas, takes full advantage of the sci-fi genre to tap into relevant topics such as climate change, parenthood, and elitism.

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.

It’s a film that’s serious about play, and humble about the need for joy. Piece by Piece is, quite simply, bricktacularly brilliant.

Although the film is by no means a groundbreaking biopic, it has an effective execution that will appeal to the masses, especially viewers urging for another hero to root for in the face of adversity.

What was once considered revolutionary or sharp commentary is now so passé and outdated that it makes the film feel like an ancient relic — a bad one.

Dancing between the ruminative and the revelatory, it never succumbs to being maudlin or cloying. The Life of Chuck is a modern fable told with the deftness of a fairy tale, with the sheer exuberance of a musical while exuding the same sense of wonder one gets staring up at the heavens.

It's a fun, action-packed outing with surprisingly effective emotional resonance, adding layers to existing Transformers lore while being a worthwhile story in its own right.

The End paradoxically feels ornamental and operatic while at the same time almost iconographic in its simplicity.

Smith has always been best when he wears his heart on his sleeve as he does with The 4:30 Movie, a film whose earnestness tries to iron out some of the usual problems with Smith’s films, but with mixed results.

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

Berger’s latest is a blast of brilliance, with a supremely compelling story driven by some astonishing performances.

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

With stunning performances, perfect needle drops, and thoughtful, loving direction, The Last Showgirl is a stylish, emotional, and visually striking work, and a worthy exploration of its impossible protagonist.

For a director like Howard, whose work can sometimes be a bit too sterile, Eden is a curious experiment in search of a purpose.

If this movie-length follow-up proves anything, it's that the team behind the show hasn't lost a step in picking up where the story and these characters left off — but there are also more than enough signs that Wynonna Earp could continue in some form, if everyone is still all in.

The Wild Robot is a jaw-dropping and tear-jerking endeavor that immediately cements itself as one of the director’s very best, and possibly one of the best films of the year.

The way Leigh uses these characters to inform us of Pansy’s story is impeccably handled, a sign of a master storyteller that still has plenty to offer.

Adams and McNairy give two fantastic performances that showcase the confused, overwhelming situation that first-time parents find themselves in, and Heller juggles this fantastical high-concept idea with very real emotions and powerful statements.

I’ll Be Right There is a light, breezy way to spend a little over an hour and a half filled with some genuinely funny gags, top-notch dialogue, and solid performances.

With Pugh and Garfield leading this tremendous love story, We Live in Time becomes one of the best movie romances in years, and proves that few filmmakers can present the power of love quite like Crowley can.

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

Like the family at the center of the film, Nutcrackers is rough around the edges, but it's lovable in a shaggy way.

Altogether, it's a solid dark comedy in the trappings of a psychological horror film.

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.

In every piercing stare, you can see Terry’s determination and drive just as you do brief flashes of overwhelming despair at the depravity that surrounds him. It becomes surprisingly emotionally impactful at key moments, all of which Pierre plays perfectly. For all the restraint both actor and character embody, the joy of the film comes in how you see the righteous fury growing inside him. It's just waiting to burst free to set things right in a world gone awry.

Harris and Dormer are the best of frenemies in this sneakily stupendous character study, as relentless as it is mysterious.

It's a tense, mostly successful thriller with a talented cast, but greater artistry in the thematic development and greater novelty in the plotting would enhance the freshness of the crime drama.

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

At a different time, I might have been more inclined to entertain Reijn's proposition seriously. But it's just her luck that the great Catherine Breillat, who has devoted her illustrious career to investigating these taboos, dropped a far superior film on the same subject matter, Last Summer, just a few months prior, beating Reijn to the finish line.

Slingshot is more of a murky mystery where the big revelations don't hold up under scrutiny.

Pablo Larraín's Maria is a one-note exploration of another public figure that just makes the same points over and over again.

Burton’s vision from 1988 remains fully intact. If anything, he has expanded on world-building. It’s the best possible outcome from the studio’s blatant cash grab as a singular vision is rigorously and thoughtfully preserved in the storytelling.

This adaptation captures the atmospheric and sorrow-laden storytelling that comes with turning the pages on Richard’s final days.

This is no romanticized look back at a past film, but a deeply honest one. In every frame, both within the production of the film and outside of it, it feels like we're witnessing something profoundly personal that may soon slip through our fingers. It's worth cherishing every moment of.

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.

Through its powerhouse performances, effective bare-bones plots, and strong horror elements, Adam MacDonald's latest survival story gets the job done, and does it well.

The film captures the reality of an abundantly free, but unguarded childhood well, and the resultant dreamlike quality of certain scenes is thoroughly engaging. It's absolutely a journey to watch.

It’s more than just a failure of a remake — it’s disappointing on its own standalone merits, too.

It’s a breathtakingly melancholic film infused with mourning, journeying its way through subtly painful yet often poetic conversations about searching for something lost that may never be found. That only makes all the discoveries it makes that much more stunning to behold.

It’s non-stop drama, and the way the story plays out, it’s like Vance took every crazy episode from his life and played them back-to-back without pausing for a single pleasant memory or character defined beyond a single dimension.

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.

Struggling through an identity crisis, The Crow is doing too much and, as a result, doesn't do enough to serve its core narrative.

Strange Darling is a magic trick, showing you its cards up front and leaving your mind to fill in the blanks while it subtly performs a sleight of hand.

For better or worse, Kostanski's throwback creature feature wants older horror fans to feel like their childish selves again — as long as their childhoods were filled with Charles Band and Pee-Wee Herman.

Greedy People is somewhat tonally amiss, but not long enough for the experience to self-destruct. It's a fine working backward whodunit from the inside out.

If you're in the mood for a good slasher flick that doesn't try and reinvent the genre, then All My Friends Are Dead is a perfect fit!

Elric Kane's The Dead Thing packs an unsettling tone and real moments of insight into its lean runtime.

The Soul Eater is by no means an offense to horror procedurals. Bustillo and Maury are clearly directing someone else’s script (derogatory), but they still smuggle their signature dread-shellacked brand in wherever possible.

The dialogue is cringy even by Universal Soldier sequel standards, performances more wooden than Pinocchio, and combat showpieces are a shambles of digital effects that spike not even a tingle of bruised and bloodied excitement.

It’s a generic blend of human drama and otherworldly horrors. Consumed never makes the most of its Wendigo punctuations, whether hampered by budgetary limits or to-the-point scripting that overstays its welcome at nearly 90 minutes.

While there's a randomizer sense to everything, frights abound, and there's a mercilessness that bites down hard. Execution may slip and slide, but Daniels doesn't waste his first crack at the ghoulishness of this Earth or deep below.

The Union combines action, humor, and heat for a fun, exciting thrill ride fit for your next Netflix watch.

More often than not, Ejiofor bullet points the unfolding events rather than coalescing them into a dramatic arc.

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

Alien Romulus has a promising beginning and end, but the middle gets a bit too muddled in nostalgia for this franchise.

The movie might be called Jackpot!, but no one is leaving this one a winner.

The characters somehow behave both flatly and erratically, driving a cliché plot that manages to be both overly simplistic and confusing. Take care of your skin — and sanity — by sitting this one out.

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.

Beautifully shot and powerfully told, Sugarcane is a moving tale of resilience in the face of overwhelming injustice.

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

While The Last Front struggles with its stylistic choices and lack of substance, it is still an entirely watchable and almost enjoyable war drama.

Borderlands is a fun ride, but a bloated cast and breakneck pacing don’t allow it to reach its full potential.