A perfect summer movie, and a celebration of the hard work it takes to make a perfect summer movie happen.

Garland boldly asks us to take a step back, to forget about notions of who is right and who is wrong and simply focus on the horrors of what might happen if this happened at all. If you surrender to its abstractions, it proves a disquieting, terrifying watch.

Right to the final exhilarating moments, Challengers plays a bold game — sports action so visceral you can feel the sweat dripping off the screen, along with the emotional rallying that occurs off the court.

While the stakes are never less than serious and the tone never wavers, there’s still a playfulness to many of Monkey Man’s fight scenes that makes them thrilling to watch — and to generate excitement for whatever Patel might choose to do next.

There was a point, midway through the film’s major third-act climax, CGI beast raging against CGI beast, when a thought came to this humble critic: “This shouldn’t be boring.” And yet this is what happens, when there’s no emotional weight to the stakes, and the characters themselves feel as hollow as the earth they live on.

Like in fighting, there are some movies of a certain caliber, which excel because they know exactly what kind of movie they’re meant to be. Road House is definitely a fun watch — because it doesn’t punch above its weight class.

Though the ensemble is too large, Frozen Empire does successfully find a decent balance between the multiple generations featured here, letting the younger cast drive most of the action without leaving the older characters on the sidelines

Beneath the layers of magical realism and dot-com satire, American Society feels personal and raw, capturing the real depth and range of emotions that a person of color is made to feel, living in a country where racism remains ever-present, especially now.

Underdeveloped characters and a mishandling of their queerness make the film feel both exploitative and disappointingly flat – and while all the whimsy, color, and dance-punk needle drops are welcome, they’re only brief distractions from Drive-Away Dolls’ speedbumps.

The story may never break free of its more dated tropes, but the Dune movies represent a remarkable collection of talent coming together to, if nothing else, remind us of the power of epic storytelling on a big screen.

It’s the sort of odd curio made possible by the streaming age, and even if you’re not a huge fan of Lopez’s work, it’s fascinating to see just how much and how little she’s ready to say about herself; an experience more presentationally honest than truly honest about her life and her choices.

It’s a movie that deserves our attention, if only for the elegiac peace of its narrative, and its reminder to appreciate the small things in life. Because they sometimes matter most.

There’s still plenty of originality in the mix, if only because of the boundaries pushed: Easily the most exciting moment of watching Lisa Frankenstein is discovering just how far Cody and Williams are prepared to take this story (which is to say, to places you just might not expect). That daring attitude is the spark which brings the monster to life — and it’s a monster you can learn to love.

The stakes might technically be high, but at a certain point, Argylle abandons all connection to reality to deliver pure romp from beginning to end. Yes, this at times tips over into silliness, but during a time of real geopolitical upheaval and political uncertainty… maybe there’s nothing wrong with that.

Rich Peppiatt’s feature debut spins the freewheeling cinematic language of Edgar Wright and Guy Ritchie into a fun, heartwarming, and suitably raunchy celebration of the Irish language.

While the filmmaker is very much the protagonist of this story, the personal touches included don’t overwhelm the story — and in fact add a certain sweetness, especially as both women face setbacks in their quest, and their friendship grows deeper.

Eclectic and unconventional in its presentation, Soundtrack’s density can throw you for a loop, especially if you don’t know the first thing about the geopolitics of the time and place. But it proves a healthy primer on the skeptical eye we should take towards world powers, and how even the art that’s meant to free us can be used against us.

It’s a brave, uncompromising debut.

Between the Temples is a bit slight, but brings with it a lot of sweetness, especially thanks to Schwartzman and Kane, and the chemistry they find together.

Its essential components touch on the valuable insight that the white imagination often can’t wrap its head around what Black music is actually saying, and the ways it says it.

There’s plenty to enjoy and admire about this one, even through its uneven moments.

Schwimmer’s great in a role that’s very much in his wheelhouse, but the second half never quite lives up to the first half, and the first half feels incomplete as a narrative, which leaves the whole film feeling like a disappointment.

As Stefan might say, this movie’s got everything (you’d expect from a Sundance movie): A period coming-of-age story inspired by the filmmaker’s own life, broader political themes, known stars like Linney and Harrelson playing eccentric characters, and a weepy conclusion.

Unfortunately, the 99-minute run time on Norwegian zombie drama Handling the Undead feels infinitely longer, and lands more as a meditation on grief than an intriguing entry into zombie cinema.

There are several sequences where the comedy of Thelma really sings, but if the film was just a parody, it would maybe be a funny yet rough watch. Fortunately, its depth of feeling for its elderly characters elevates it to a strange hybrid that works remarkably well, with Squibb’s performance in particular bringing it all together.

Amid Hammel’s acid-tongued approach and jaundiced eye, there’s a lot of intriguing potential; after all, cinema that imperfectly confronts is oftentimes more interesting than comfortable competence.

Donaldson has a tremendous command of pace and silence, laying the desperation of middle age (and how it looks to those whose lives are still ahead of them) bare with little more than a gesture or a closeup. It’s a killer debut for both her and Collias, and it will be exciting to see what both can do with the momentum a picture like this can provide.

Sean Wang, as both writer and director, has turned in an excellent entry into the “call your mother” cinematic canon. He doesn’t flinch from the darker or more troublesome aspects of the early teen years, but he ultimately balances them expertly by handling his messy protagonist with generosity and care.

Love Me had the potential to be a little too precious in its storytelling — certainly there’s something profoundly cute about two robots falling in love, as any Wall-E fan will tell you. What keeps the narrative balanced is the raw bleakness of the setting.

It’s the fresher lines, not the repeats, which draw bigger laughs — in fact, in some cases it feels unfair to the actors, making them recreate scenes that were already stellar in the original.

Momoa’s raw on-screen energy remains infectious even in the driest scenes, and Wan does wring a real sense of human connection out of the scenes between Momoa and Wilson, whose tempestuous fraternal bond is the emotional core of the film.

Just don’t expect it to rewrite the genre playbook.

In its current shape, Rebel Moon isn’t just boring; it feels hopelessly compromised.

Grounded and yet also experimental, cold at some points and intimate at others, The Zone of Interest is one of the year’s most deliberately challenging films, unafraid to explore one of humanity’s darkest moments from some unexpected angles.

Wrestling, at its best, is a mythic art, an extension of the traditions of ancient Greece — with all the grand pageantry and theater that turns mere mortals into titans. Durkin knows this, and uses all that bigness to startling effect, transforming the tragedy of an American family into a bittersweet legend.

Wonka’s throwback charms make a striking enough impression, especially with Chalamet in the role, that the idea of another musical Wonka adventure isn't at all objectionable. If, that is, they skip the fat suit next time.

Renaissance: A Film by Beyoncé is a true odyssey, a maximalist explosion of sparkles and beats and visuals and insight.

This sort of small-scale revenge piece is a pretty common occurrence in the direct-to-VOD market, but what elevates Silent Night is Woo’s skill with action, in concert with the lack of dialogue.

Good Burger 2 is a time machine that takes its audience back to a time before adulting became a verb or a burden. And on that front, it succeeds. Not always with flying colors, but just enough for a pleasurable distraction during a chaotic holiday season.

Besides the gags, there’s little to grasp onto, and try as it might to echo Barry Lyndon’s naturally-lit tableaus, Scott’s film lacks that film’s acid-dry wit.

It’s steamy and transgressive in a straightforward way, an in-your-face bacchanal of sex and violence of the kind Fennell so delights in depicting. But as the film barrels toward its bonkers but highly predictable twist, the shine on Saltburn begins to fade.

If someone decides they don’t like you, there’s nothing you can do about it. If enough people share that opinion, they can absolutely destroy you. Combine that with an always-fantastic Cage, thoughtful and buffoonish in every gesture and tic, and it makes for a delightfully mixed bag.

As successful as its biggest, wildest swings are, it'd really be nice if the plotting of The Marvels lived up to those elements. That said, those other elements are hard to oversell. It might not be the most coherent MCU entry of 2023. But it's perhaps the most purely enjoyable.

Bolstered by the fantastic technical direction at every turn, Priscilla lands as a remarkably moving portrait not just of a pair of American icons, but also of a dissolving romance.

Though it may not be an awards contender, there are still sparks throughout to appreciate, especially in Blunt and Evans’ performances. Thanks to them, there’s a lot of humanity to be found in the film — the best and the worst of it.

The Holdovers is the easiest possible recommendation, a perfect time capsule of a kind of movie that may not be totally extinct.

One wonders whether Fincher sees something of himself in The Killer — a man obsessed with process and precision, constantly tamping down the emotionality that he fears might violate the perfectionism he’s sought his whole career. In this way, it’s a perfect match of director to material, with a phalanx of great artists at the height of their powers aiding him in that mission.

Even amid its flaws — Scorsese’s sprawling focus leaving some characters in the dust, most of them the very indigenous Americans this film purports to speak for — Killers of the Flower Moon remains a staggering work of cinema.

The costuming and detailed sets shifting from era to era are part of what made “The Eras Tour” such an immersive experience, and the camerawork again puts the craft in the spotlight. Swift, of course, looks and sounds great, beaming at the sold-out SoFi crowd throughout the show.

The director of Dogtooth and The Lobster has been gradually making his way towards something this vivid and vibrant his whole career, inching toward his audience with one absurdist feature after another.

The handful of scenes in which Bernstein does speak of his craft are engaging; the film depicts him as well-loved as both a professional and a man, a charming teacher to his students; his charisma and confidence are hypnotic. Unfortunately, it’s unclear what Cooper is really keen to communicate with this portrayal.

It’s a master class in discomfort.

It’s difficult to overstate how badly Foe fumbles its heady premise and firecracker cast, a film so dependent on its biggest secret that it’s both predictable and hard to grasp by the time the trigger is finally pulled.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is a choreographed dance of an experience — one that could have easily felt like a run-on sentence. However, Anderson is skilled enough as a filmmaker to make sure to pace things out with a deliberate and sure hand, utilizing both long takes and clever edits to make 37 minutes fly by like 15.

If this film is Miyazaki’s true bow, it’s a magnificent final flourish that folds together many of the thematic and aesthetic threads he’s explored through his career: man’s relationship to nature, the majesty of flight, the twin pulls of love and loss. It’s stunning and inscrutable and measures among the best of his works.

As pretty as The Creator looks, and however well-considered its world may be, it feels like all sizzle and no steak. AI is an extremely prevalent issue facing us in the real world, but Edwards seems disinterested in exploring beyond its aesthetic surface (e.g. borrowing real people’s voices and likenesses in perpetuity) in favor of a warmed-over critique of American imperialism in the global East.

Venice, if nothing else, is a pleasant reminder that stories can be spooky without aiming for hard scares. Sometimes, the vibes of Halloween can feel like an all-or-nothing proposition, but for us scaredycats, sometimes it’s nice to just enjoy autumnal vibes with just a hint of terror in the air, like the first whiff of wood smoke while walking through your hometown on a brisk October day.

As a primer for one of the funniest, most emotionally satisfying thumbs in the eye to the super-rich in recent memory, Dumb Money is a pretty good time. That said, it leaves out crucial details and has little time to dig deeper into its cast of characters, making it feel like a cardboard glimpse into a complicated blip in the rigged game of American finance.

The reason to watch this, aside from its in-depth look at the world of independent lucha libre, is star Gael García Bernal, who throws himself into this role and the ring, performing a truly impressive series of stunts while celebrating Cassandro’s achievements.

Like a bullet fired by the Equalizer himself, this third film is efficient, effective, and entertaining, with a narrative that eschews twists on top of twists in favor of drawing the viewer into this small town where Robert’s found refuge.

Strays has a surprisingly large joke density, and quite a few of them land in an unexpected way.

Like the superhero stories of the ’90s and 2000s that clearly inspired it, Blue Beetle feels like the scrappy origin story we need to get through in order to explore better things in the more exciting sequel. Hopefully, Gunn and Safran see fit to keep Jaime Reyes around for their version of the DCEU, and toy with the true potential of its hero.

The more half-baked elements in the screenplay prevent Gran Turismo from assuming its role as a modern sports tale for a new generation — but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth the ride.

Heart of Stone is the rare streaming movie that does not open with an in medias res action sequence, followed by a “[Some Amount of Time] Earlier” card and a flashback to simpler days.

Admittedly, big stretches of Demeter are a bit overwritten and unnecessary; there’s no real need for a film like this to exist, especially considering we know how it’ll all turn out. But as long as it’s here, it might as well be celebrated for what it is: lean, effective nautical horror of a type we don’t often get anymore. Seaside scares are a rare thing these days, especially when Øvredal packs this much atmosphere and characterization into such a wafer-thin premise.

Still, as giant shark movies go, it’s a far more coherent entry in the genre than others, with effects work that’s several notches above the rest.

In a time when so much of what we consume can feel plastic and cheap and mass-produced, it’s the human touch we come to crave — especially when it leads to something as fun as this.

Haunted Mansion uses its existence as an opportunity to tell a story about life, death, and what it means to let go of someone you love — yet another reminder that in the right hands, previously existing intellectual property isn’t necessarily a roadblock for storytellers. Sometimes, it can be the car that makes the journey possible.

As a viewing experience, Oppenheimer is a whole lot of movie, a man's life given the epic treatment — because he did do truly epic things, things that elevate his life story beyond the limitations of genre. And thus, the film proves exceptional at drawing the audience into the experience, when it lets the power of its images do the talking. Its best moments stand out as some of the most original and exciting filmmaking of the year, highs that do a lot to counterbalance the sequences which dive back into bureaucracy and comparatively petty rivalries.

Barbie is a magic trick, a stellar example of a filmmaker taking a well-established bit of corporate IP and using it to deliver a message loudly and clearly. That Greta Gerwig’s third solo film as director also manages to be a giddy, silly, and hilarious time is essential to its power, and the challenge of this review is thus trying to explore how the magic trick works, while still preserving the flat-out awe I have at what it achieves.

Oh, does Tom Cruise get in his steps over the course of this film, finding new and exciting locations through which to run, which Christopher McQuarrie's cameras capture with just enough of a wink to let the audience know that he gets it.

Beyond the gross-out humor and music video homages, there’s a sweet and emotional story about finding family in the world where you’d least expect it, and the strength that can be found in friendship.

No Hard Feelings ends up belonging to Andrew Barth Feldman, who very soon may be one of Hollywood’s go-to leading men (following his year-long stint as the titular role in Dear Evan Hansen). Despite the script’s slightly jumbled ending, Feldman aces his character’s transformation, and finds dozens of moments to truly shine.

Mangold’s steady direction doesn’t quite live up to Spielberg’s signature flair, but this is a solid entry in the franchise, solid enough to even inspire interest in future installments.

The Blackening is tense, funny, and thoughtful. It’s a miracle when any movie expertly hits that hat trick but even more so when it does it with this much confidence.

I still don’t know whether all (or even most) of Asteroid City’s ideas coalesce, so scattershot is the film’s pacing and plotting. But from moment to moment, it charms and moves in ways only Anderson can deliver.

The best movies are little worlds that welcome you into the experiences of fascinating characters, giving you everything you need to understand their perspectives and actions. Past Lives does so in spades, painting on a small canvas, but with rich hues of emotion and meaning, knowing that a great story and a great life aren’t necessarily the same thing.

There’s an immense amount of baggage weighing down what proves to be a vaguely competent superhero adventure, albeit one that fails to add anything significant to the genre by the end.

The newest Transformers film, Rise of the Beasts, is a genuinely entertaining summer blockbuster, with its high point being Pete Davidson as Mirage. Highlighting a voice performance as the best quality of a film like Rise of the Beasts could be seen as damning with faint praise, but that's not the case here. Instead, it's an appreciation of how much Davidson's work enhances Beasts as a production, as these films continue to move away from Bay's super-serious vibe in favor of a new, lighter approach.

There are choices here that prove reminiscent of the iconic Looney Tunes cartoon “Duck Amuck” — if “Duck Amuck” was over two hours long, and Chuck Jones had chugged four dozen Four Lokos while directing it.

Bailey is genuinely great in the role. But the changes added to the original story feel superficial, only giving the narrative an illusion of depth.

Fast X, when it comes to the stunts and cars, delivers to some degree, but definitely seems to be feeling the strain of striving for the next jaw-dropping moment, to the point where it all just blends together. Only thanks to Momoa does it feel at all memorable.

Every time you think Hypnotic has fully lost you, it’ll do something just interesting enough to pull you back in.

BlackBerry holds up well as a blunt portrait of BlackBerry’s ascendance as well as its eventual decline, with cinematographer Jared Raab riffing on the documentary-esque filming approach of Succession to keep the action kinetic.

A space adventure that is alternately funny and upsetting, featuring a literal menagerie of the strange and unconventional.

SUGA: Road to D-Day is an hour and 20 minutes well spent for any BTS fan, of course. Beyond that, though, it’s a great introduction to the personality behind one-third of the group’s rapline and a personal look at one-seventh of one of the biggest acts on the planet right now.

Cronin gets that the Evil Dead franchise doesn’t have to be limited to one wisecracking, lantern-jawed battle with the forces of darkness; the Book of the Dead, and its ability to turn those you love against you, is enough to hang a film on if you do it right.

It’s a huge, huge swing, and Aster skeptics will likely scoff at the egotism of it all. But for those of us who’ve been at the receiving end of a classic Jewish-mother guilt trip, Beau is Afraid will serve as affirmation, cinematic therapy, and the most relatably terrifying thing they’ve ever seen.

Affleck knows how to tell a compelling story on screen, and Air does succeed in making the particulars of this deal feel intriguing; it’s a classic underdog tale at its core, and watching this one major contract come together is exciting in the moment.

At its best, Paint is a delightful and occasionally awkward ode to art, and how it defines us as creators and consumers. But at its worst, Paint feels, well, pointless.

For any parents reading this — it might not be the best film of the year, but you're going to be able to watch The Super Mario Bros. Movie more than once without losing your dang mind.

The action’s not flashy but competent, the set pieces are a bit easy to predict but deliver some reliable gags, and there are even a few meta moments that generate a chuckle or two.

Renfield knows exactly what it wants to achieve and does so effectively, anchored by its lead performances and some very enjoyable super-violent action sequences which earn its R rating honestly.

Take away the delusions of grandeur, and the film is a perfectly acceptable – even enjoyable – tour vlog of a particularly interesting set of shows.

It’s all too appropriate that at the center of Honor Among Thieves is a message about the value of found families, and how strong and powerful those relationships can be. That underlying sweetness, the incredibly game nature of its cast, and again, an emphasis on fun make this a film worthy of the brand, one that might even inspire some new converts to discover the adventure possible on their own tabletops.

Fury of the Gods tries to recapture what made the first Shazam! a disarming breath of fresh air, but it just can’t quite do it.

Watching John Wick: Chapter 4 sometimes felt like watching an above-average assembly cut. At an unwieldy two hours and 49 minutes, your eye will immediately be drawn to what cuts through the noise — and there are plenty of these moments. But “moments” does not a well-told “movie” make.

If Sam Raimi were in the director’s chair, rather than just producing, imagine the kind of fist-pumping schlock feast we could have enjoyed.