Queen of Katwe shows that a film doesn’t have to give up on the tenets of genre, but has the potential to win big if it can enliven them in new ways.

The new characters of Inside Out 2 are a success, and the voice actors definitely help bring them to life...The only problem is that the new characters in Inside Out 2 begin to outshine the old.

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

There's a confidence to respect in this film, as it tells a story which feels fresh within the established framework.

The film is effective at capturing what made the original musical so beloved, and in turn, will belong to a new generation of kids — those kids who might then envision themselves cathartically singing “Popular” or “Defying Gravity” on stage, just as Ariana Grande had as a child.

The performances and Fastvold’s poetic and intimate direction make it worth the watch. Perhaps next time, though, she’ll write the script.

Host is so clever, so creepy, and so effective. At 56 minutes, this is a lean and mean slice of horror, a fitting opening salvo for the spooky season ahead.

While the quality of the film’s craft is up for little debate, though, it’s overall appeal and impact are far more polarizing.

Wind River is also a potent example of how form isn’t always enough when the story is as frequently unnerving for unintentional reasons as it is for the horrors it aims to present.

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.

It’s a thrilling, surprising, often funny film, centered on a terrific performance.

Lucy and Desi feels like a critical watch for anyone working to carve out their own corner of the incredibly difficult entertainment industry, particularly young women. In Poehler’s hands, it’s a worthy testament to two pioneers whose stories began with a date and a dance.

The Platform does away with any sense of coyness, launching immediately into its brutal tale. This focus on the captives in their cells is wise considering the few frolics it takes into backstories only distract from the action at hand.

It’s a very human film, oozing with heart and believable stakes, a brilliant marriage that mirrors the enduring ethos of the Spider-Man comic book.

Anyone who’s ever been to a great concert knows that it’s the very rare movie that can fully capture the transcendence of live performance. Hit Me Hard and Soft gets damn close thanks to the dual perspectives of its directors: The artist at the peak of her abilities, and the observer in awe of what he’s witnessing.

At turns funny and harrowing, lyrical and stark, Honey Boy is a clear-eyed take on toxic family dynamics, fame, emotional and physical abuse, and accountability. It’s a rare treat to see characters and their pain taken so seriously and treated so delicately.

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.

This is a very effective story that works as a love letter to both a life and a city in transition.

In a narrative filled with numerous opportunities for scenes you’ve seen before, Durham ducks all the cliches to stay focused on what’s most important: a father, a daughter, and the words they shared between them.

If Julieta weren’t such a crushing bore, it might have been a lusty little delight.

News of the World is a perfectly solid, decent entry into the burgeoning sub-genre of Tom Hanks Doing Dad Stuff movies. It’s well-made, direct, and unfussy in its storytelling.

Navigating the nexus of hype, commerce, ego, and bullshit that drives the modern art scene, The Square is almost too perfect in its cunning simplicity. The art world’s always been easy to drag, what with its interiority, weirdos, and frustrating games of pin-the-tail-on-the-thesis. But rarely are these ideas lampooned so beautifully.

If Battle of the Sexes is more than a little slight in places, it more than makes up for its shortcomings through sheer entertainment value.

Ultimately, what takes Bruce Springsteen’s Letter to You from bonus-material curio to required viewing is the opportunity it gives Springsteen to make a capstone argument for his continued artistic drive.

As legal dramas go, it’s quite good; as a Todd Haynes film, you struggle to see the talent for which he’s known.

A touching film that perhaps spends a bit too much time digging in the wrong places.

Maybe the formulas we’re so used to will be exactly the vehicle to introduce general audiences to the lived experiences of a community criminally underserved in media.

If Clueless is the definitive modern-day adaptation of Emma, then Fire Island deserves the same crown for Pride and Prejudice.

When it focuses on Eichner and Macfarlane, and the ever-complicated mores of queer masculinity, it stays charming and light on its feet. If it were a little less self-conscious about that homonormativity, it’d have a more cohesive identity, and be more of a slam dunk in the process.

Captain Fantastic loses its intriguing premise in a muddle of ideas about the redemptive power of family and the right of all people to live as they please.

It's a quiet little underdog story, but with enough charm to engage any audience.

Some people will think it’s a bizarre mess, others an unconventional masterwork. If there’s any justice in the world, the latter group will win out.

If Robinson’s style of humor puts you off already, rest assured that Friendship doesn’t break his existing comic bold. But for those shirt brothers in the Tim Robinson cult already, the Dan Flashes buyers and zipline pullers among us, Friendship offers next-level cringe packaged in something far more Kaufmanesque than his usual fare.

Through a distinct sense of style and riveting performances, Fennell’s debut is as bold as it is self-assured. Promising Young Woman eschews the familiar rape-revenge formula and injects a subversive female gaze, yet doesn’t cover any new ground that hasn’t been touched on already.

In making a light, easygoing, heartfelt teen rom-com with a gay kid at its center, Berlanti and company have made a top-tier example of a familiar form with one essential and very important difference.

Cautionary tales about the dangers of life in the Internet age can often feel heavy-handed and trite, but M3GAN never feels like an extended Black Mirror episode. Its accessible themes don’t come off as oversaturated, thanks to the wit of the screenplay and a great performance from Williams.

Always Shine is a fantastic thriller for two-thirds of its runtime, ending with a ballsy third act as admirable in its ambition as it is narratively frustrating.

Mickey 17 is at its best when director Bong really leans into exploring the dirty details of blue-collar space exploration.

A Haneke who’s treading water is still a bizarrely entertaining filmmaker, but the fun is tinged with a hint of disappointment and a certain feeling of lost opportunity.

It’s a movie made on the fly, and for better or worse, you can tell.

What this movie offers is a refreshing, grounded take on a part of life that can be frightening and difficult, giving it the attention and care it deserves without veering into unnecessary sentimentality or aiming to be a tearjerker.

Weathering With You’s remarkable animation and delightful characters come together for the perfect storm of creativity, inspiration, and romance. Yet, for all its exploration of the supernatural, the film carries such a profound universal feeling. Sure, it’s another solid love story, but it’s the film’s messages of hope and of keeping one’s head up in the rain that will endure.

There’s just more under the hood than your typical imitators: the antic disposition of the idle rich, the way infinite money can absolve the rich of any accountability, and the ever-predatory nature of colonial tourism. Wrap it up in a package this wild, shocking, and perverse, and it makes for a delightful bloody mess that you’ll want to go back to.

As a fish-out-of-water comedy, it’s effectively funny more often than it isn’t, and as an ode to the unlikely communities that arise around black metal, it’s entirely sincere in its intentions.

Out of an act of war, Jolie has created a film of real compassion.

What unfolds is a transparent example of why the music industry continues to spiral downward toward a fiery hell.

There’s a lot going on in Hail, Caesar!, but in the end, it’s all a bit too silly to register as important.... Nonetheless, Hail, Caesar! satisfies that one criterion that matters most in Hollywood, and will for time immemorial: it’s entertaining as hell.

The Lure somehow manages to seamlessly assemble a film equal parts hilarious, affecting, and grisly while trading and warping aesthetics and tones by the scene.

A subplot and a longer-than-necessary runtime threaten to undercut Hall’s performance, but in the end the movie succeeds as a solid investigation into the day-to-day life of one suffering from depression.

Craig’s performance on its own is worth the price of admission, and if nothing else Guadagnino really knows how to transport the viewer to a completely different place and time from today. With his films, the cliche has never been more true: The journey is the destination.

Bugonia, the newest movie from Yorgos Lanthimos, features a simple-enough structure, some stunning performances, and some twists that make it damn hard to write about without getting into spoilers.

It doesn’t always work, and the results are more than a little misanthropic (especially given the cruelty of its opening and closing moments). But if that’s your jam, and the prospect of body-swapping assassins coated in guts, gore, and neon appeals to you, Possessor‘s Argento-soaked atmosphere ought to fill that need.

This is a story with a message, and perhaps an overlong one, but the triumphant staging of the film’s action sequences often tends to erase any lingering doubts of its purpose before long.

Considering he’s spent nine whole seasons within his quirky New Mexico universe, there was never any doubt that Gilligan loves his characters, but goddamn does El Camino bring that idea home.

Candyman pays homage to the original, while still maintaining its uniqueness with a fresh and provocative plot

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.

Gimme Danger checks the usual rock doc boxes, but it succeeds because of its smashing subject matter. The Stooges may not be the greatest musical act in history, but they are one of the most lively subjects for a documentary.

For as choppy as Sirens can be in its too-short 78-minute runtime, it’s easy to chalk that up to the difficulties of filming during COVID. But what we do get is certainly crowd-pleasing, a riotous doc that combines likable personalities with thrumming guitar licks and its subjects’ relatable yearning to find their voice and their power.

Get Back is the history. Let It Be is a poem. [2024 Restored Version]

Eight Days a Week will be of most value to die-hard and casual fans of the band alike, but it’s also a reasonably effective primer on them for anyone who might not yet be initiated.

Though it’s not outright scary, Midsommar will no doubt unsettle even the most steeled of viewers. It will also satiate those who may have feared a sophomore slump from Aster. Hardly. This film’s the real deal, and if anything, it’s more audience-friendly than his first. Don’t miss it.

It’s a visceral piece of horror that’s as bleak as it is beautiful.

As personal as some of this material feels, it feels like a real collaboration of artists, all enabling Cooper to tell a heartfelt story with universal scope. Cooper’s not one of our finest filmmakers, but like Alex, he’s getting better with each effort. And whether you’re talking about relationships, comedy, or life itself, effort counts for a lot.

Doctor Strange lacks the bloat that’s made other recent, blockbusting superhero films fall flat. It doesn’t lean too hard on the considerable talents of its stars, nor does it waste their talents. It keeps a brisk pace, but doesn’t rush. It gets weird, but not too weird. And if all else fails, it’ll make your jaw drop from time to time.

Gunn keeps throwing enough inventive kills and comic-book antics at us (aided by the wildly disparate skills sets of our antiheroes) to keep the R-rated mayhem from getting too repetitive.

However incomplete, Nos Amis nevertheless stands as an engrossing portrait of the power of honesty and friendship, the permanence of art, and the perseverance of the human spirit.

VFW delivers the goods—tough-guy dialogue, memorable characters, and so much splatter— and audiences will be giddy as adolescents as the gore literally explodes on screen.

While not particularly subtle or probing, The Invisible Man manages to do what many of our greatest horror movies have done before it: address a real-life, everyday nightmare in a heightened, bracing, and even cathartic way.

What this film does achieve is telling a solid new Batman story, one with some pretty compelling twists and a strong point-of-view on who, exactly, the Caped Crusader is. By default, that makes it one of the better Batman movies ever made.

If Shang-Chi is the best MCU introduction since GotG, it’s also the best standalone adventure since Black Panther. There’s a storytelling maturity that demonstrates Marvel is still willing to go back to basics — even as it gets more fantastical. It’s also a visual feast, with some of the most outlandish SFX scenes in any MCU entry.

Some may well dismiss Luca as “mid-tier” Pixar, perhaps out of frustration that it doesn’t fit those aforementioned molds. But in its stillness and modesty, I found a lot to adore; it’s a simple, charming story of two boys having the summer of their lives, and the big and small ways it changes the both of them.

While she can slide, slash, and shoot with the best of them, Midthunder also imbues Naru with just enough character to keep us invested in her journey. For her, the fight against the Predator means more than just survival: It means validation for her own place in the tribe, the chance to prove her worth by defending her people.

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.

Grant’s performance makes this film worthy of note. But expect to leave Heretic with perhaps less faith in mankind than you had already. (Wherever your levels were to begin with is a whole other question.)

The way Lowery observes Pete and Elliot’s relationship with nominal dialogue is beautiful. While it’s easy to deride the remake as commercially conceived, the film still feels as rare as the dragon it depicts, wholesome and heartfelt.

Sacha Jenkins' doc is a warts-and-all examination of the funk-punk superstar, refusing to editorialize his sins and successes."

The Long Walk offers a gripping premise, a lot of characters who feel more like loose sketches than fully-realized personalities, and a narrative that maybe has some minor pacing problems towards the end, but is pretty impossible to turn away from.

Separated from the most exciting/controversial/unexpected moments in play, and without the element of surprise, does No Way Home hold up as a good story well told? The answer is yes to a degree…but it could have gone further.

There’s a thoughtful, kid-friendly parable about the hazards of internet fame somewhere in Ralph Breaks the Internet, but its aim is so scattershot that it only emerges in fits and starts.

Wonderstruck is full of ache and of loss, and each stings just a little differently. The ache of a movie-that-could-have-been stings less than the rest, but it’s there, and more’s the pity.

It’s a movie about bravery and the power of inspiration, be it divine or corporeal, in moments of hopelessness. Desmond’s faith is placed front and center, and the way it operates here celebrates not the object of that faith, but the power it has to motivate both Desmond and his squad.

Unsurprisingly, Everybody’s Everything feels most conventional during its talking-head interviews, an aesthetic shared with almost every other music documentary out there. ... But when the film shows rather than telling, it’s clear that there are no easy answers for this kind of tragedy.

As entertaining as the film is – and boy, is it ever – there is still a feeling that Supersonic could have delved even deeper, as there are glaring omissions to the story.

The faults of Gemini are in its screenplay, and Katz’s inability to sustain interesting character dynamics and maintain a consistent narrative. As a director, Gemini is easily Katz’s most confident outing to date.

While the ride is often entertaining and the performances mostly satisfying, it’s a frustrating experience, like watching the journal of the least self-aware person you’ve ever met come to vivid, whining life.

Lady manages two remarkable achievements at once: Delivering both a slice-of-life narrative, rich with cultural details, while at the same time telling a galvanizing, even inspiring story about what it takes to activate a person towards speaking out for real change.

For all the unexpected charms of Emmett and Regan’s Last of Us-esque trek to salvation through an apocalyptic wasteland, Part II feels a bit more scattered and perfunctory than the first.

Badlands doesn’t compromise anything we’ve previously understood about one of cinema’s most terrifying villains. It simply opens up a whole new way of thinking about them, and what they represent. Never thought I’d use the word “beautiful” in reference to a Predator movie. But that’s what makes it such a wonderful surprise.

Even if the run-up takes its time, DeBlois sticks the landing – for this film, for his trilogy – and makes something that feels a bit more knowing in its themes: Life goes on, protect the ones you love, and enjoy the world we all share. There are far greater crimes children’s films can commit than positive messaging.

The Wonder is… fine. Just fine. The movie’s exploration of big issues like religion, and how stories are more important to us than the reality we live in, will cause many to think and reflect, and that’s not a bad thing. Without getting into spoilers, the ending’s expected turn twists a tale that could be a dirge into one that inspires hope.

By simply putting forth Emma as is, with little argument or persuasion in either direction, de Wilde takes Austen’s long-storied notion that her protagonist is “a heroine whom no one but myself will much like” and antes up, highlighting the tarnished parts, the Emma Woodhouses if you will, in us all.

It’s a fierce, visceral vision with a superb cast, that one suspects was more focused on pumping up Macbeth than reminding people why it’s such a lasting cautionary tale.

While there’s something to Ingrid Goes West and its indictment of insufferable L.A. millennial culture and social media’s dangers, Spicer’s targets are too bluntly specific to make the sort of nuanced argument that the film aims to attempt.

There’s certainly an argument to be made that Ginsburg’s patient “one step at a time” philosophy is no longer the ideal approach, especially in an era where the power of female anger is being reclaimed. But RBG convincingly argues that Ginsburg herself is a figure worth admiring, whether or not you agree with her politics and whether or not you like those memes.

There is an unpredictability to the film that is, at times, refreshing. This unpredictability turns into meandering, however, leading to narrative incoherence at many points.

Molly’s Game is a successful crime drama, but it’s also a film that acknowledges the presence of both good and bad luck in the pursuit of excellence. Most importantly, it allows failure to exist as a living and breathing entity, rather than a tragic ending or a fate simply suffered by the morally impure. And that is what you might call exceptional.

As a crowd-pleasing, emotionally gripping joyride about the ways in which music can change our lives, it’s one to see, and more than once.

Malcolm D. Lee’s stab at a Bridesmaids-esque journey of debauchery is funny, sometimes uproariously so, but its greatest strength isn’t in the filthiest stuff. It’s in the rapport between four women who’ve worked hard to remain friends, even as the natural progression of time continuously pulls them further and further away from one another.