Gyllenhaal gives one of the most staggering performances of her career, and Colangelo’s deft command of tone keeps the lengths to which Lisa will go to stay close to Jimmy’s perceived greatness close to the chest right up to the end.

While I Care a Lot has a lot to say about capitalism, feminism, and the current political landscape, it’s also a thrilling dark comedy. The pacing is occasionally slow and some plot points admittedly defy logic, but the film effectively channels the collective rage many of us feel after a year of watching systems catastrophically fail those most in need of their protection.

Even if C’mon C’mon occasionally feels like navel-gazing, it’s too open-hearted and generous of spirit to miss.

While it deals in the traditional melodramatics, straight from the ‘ol Hollywood emotion factory, Tillman Jr.’s aim seems true. The Hate U Give feels so Right Damn Now that you could leave the theater and see its stories on the nightly news.

On the whole, High-Rise hits more often than it misses. It’s a playfully demented and dry evisceration of the tenuous hold that modern western civilization has on civility, walking a fine line between the best genre horror and the loftiest of intellectual indie cinema.

By refusing to adhere to traditional biopic tropes, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood becomes something far more fascinating.

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.

Phoenix is a death-defying melodrama of rare emotional obsession.

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.

The film’s success rides on the shoulders of Hawkes, and for the most part, it works.

While Lean on Pete risks turning gratuitous in terms of narrative flourishes and excess, it’s never gratuitous in its characterizations. Each individual encounter is rendered with compassion and respect.

One of Sometimes I Think About Dying‘s strongest qualities is that Fran’s emerging bond with Robert isn’t presented as a saving grace — instead, it’s just one potential opportunity to pull her out of her comfort zone.

Even if Knives Out loses a micro-dose of its claustrophobia and tension in the second act, it’s in the name of undoing what we’ve come to expect of past whodunnit stories. It’s all part of what makes the film such an effective, entertaining, and contemporary spin on what’s no longer a worn-out genre.

Anyone looking to have their mind changed by this new cut … probably won’t. Anyone who hates The Godfather Part III is still going to hate The Godfather Part III, and anyone who loves The Godfather Part III will probably love it even more after seeing the coda. Alas, it’s still The Godfather Part III and that’s just fine with me.

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.

Its moments of creativity and daring, while effective and elevating, never even approach the audacity of the subject on which they center, and it’s easy to wish that Heller had pressed down a bit more firmly on the gas. But the overall effect is so simply pleasing, the performances so honest and engaging, and the story, frankly, so worthy of an earnest what the fuck? that it’s hard to work up the steam for any kind of complaint. It all works, and works well.

This is punishing filmmaking, both in its sense of overwhelming despair and in its all-too-physical violence, but what sets Apostle apart from being an especially well-shot exploitation feature is its interest in the ideals behind the violence we perform on one another.

It helps that Hilditch has Jane in the central role. Along with Carla Gugino’s turn in Gerald’s Game, Netflix has two of the strongest performances in any King adaptation to date.

Campion’s take on the Western is an elegant, sometimes unnerving accomplishment.

Franco exercises so much restraint, especially during the frenetic final act, that you’re always left on edge. There’s hardly a single gratuitous shot to the entire film.

The strengths of the series are the strengths of the film. It looks great. It sounds great. If it could, it certainly would smell great (like rain, Earl Grey, green grass, and freshly baked bread.) And above all, it’s beautifully acted by a cast able to land both the punchlines and the punches.

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.

Though Colossal does occasionally waver, most often due to its recurring tendency to hastily discard characters before their stories feel complete, it’s also a genuinely touching film that works phenomenally well for the most part, bolstered by the lingering sense of regret that hangs over the film’s funniest and most wrenching sequences alike.

With a spooky atmosphere, retro feel, and a creepy performance from a horror legend, The Mortuary Collection is a perfect movie for stormy nights at home and best enjoyed over a big bowl of buttery popcorn.

Thomas Andrews in Titanic and Spy Daddy Jack Bristow in Alias, sings so sweetly and wears his suspenders, goofy face paint, and guileless enthusiasm so well in the film that it’s easy to see both why he was plucked from the Canadian theatrical cast for the role. And why a bunch of similarly-minded hippies would want to follow him around an empty New York City and sing about love for a hundred minutes.

Loud, gory, sometimes silly, sometimes scary, and nearly always constant fun, Studio 666 is tailored to a pretty specific audience but has the potential to break outside of that niche, thanks to its commitment to old-school horror tropes with a hearty side of rock and roll.

Little Men is a summer breeze, with rich melodrama and an easygoing mood, built up around two great kids and their troubled families that says more than any after-school special. It’s an episode of actual experience, presented in lovingly natural, minimalist strokes.

Filmmaking this fresh, this vibrant, and this affecting for all ages is rare these days.