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.

Z provides effective scares and at least one moment that made this parent scream in horror. It’s doing so many of the right things, but like a puzzle with a few pieces missing, it’s hard to see the full picture.

The problem is that something never adds up to much of anything. Even thematically, the whole picture feels all over the place, oscillating hazily between half-baked meditations on man vs. nature and unfinished portraits of family values. Even so, Saulnier’s scope and visual endurance is admirable, to say the least, and it’s clear that he could do something this brazen eventually with a much stronger script.

While not bursting with ambition or any interest in deviating from proven formula, A New Era does exactly what you hope it would do, and give series fans a little more time with beloved characters, even daring to alter the status quo in one or two major ways.

Throughout Piercing, it’s never clear who’s getting played, at least except for the audience. Those with the stomach for what Pesce and his stars have to offer will likely give over to the rush of it, as the film plays fast and loose with expectations at every turn.

When you’re not shaking your head at Theron’s glass-crunching gymnastics, you’re probably soaking up Leitch’s emerald-lensed atmospheres, Luhrmann-esque set pieces, and the sensual lighting that could give Nicolas Winding Refn a seizure or two. That’s all without saying a single thing about its fabulous soundtrack.

Though it doesn’t end with quite the punctuation it deserves, The Eyes of My Mother is a beautiful nightmare from start to finish.

It’s not up there with [Shyamalan's] best, but it’s a solid thriller that traps you in the middle of an impossible question and leaves you, like its characters, to figure out the answer.

It’s not exactly the repeat masterpiece of yesteryear, but that was never going to happen. Instead, it’s a proper and agreeable reunion for fans who grew up, but still have that hungry desire to toss aside reality and enjoy a little unadulterated fun.

A lot of people are going to judge the film based on its success as a horror movie, and others will judge it as a political statement. Not that I think there’s a deficiency in any part of its personality, but I also think the panache with which it is both of those things and more — without looking to the history of genre or the future of civil rights for permission to say some pretty bold stuff — is why the film is a success.

Narratively, the Zellners are always looking to zag, and while that leads to some surprising passages, not all of them are safe. Instead, they often spill into dead ends, forcing them to backtrack and carry on elsewhere.

Edgerton isn’t as electric as Hawke or Isaac, and the passion-play dramaturgy strains. But as he allows himself to drift from self-torture, Schrader finds some new, compellingly strange ways to tend this well-worn soil.

Despite great direction by Mortensen, who also delivers a strong performance alongside Henriksen and (briefly) Linney, Falling is a repetitive and exhausting exercise that never gets around to unpacking why the audience should care about its ailing patriarch character. It’s too long and too one note for too little pay-off.

Despite the occasional tonal hiccup, so much of Unsane feels fresh and new, using bold formal techniques to spice up a complex throwback to B-movies of the past.

To make a great romantic comedy, you need a few key components. Stylish direction. Winning lead actors. Likable, lived-in characters. And some kind of unique angle on the well-trod genre at hand. Someone Great offers all of that and more, but it also proves that one of the most important and least appreciated aspects of a successful rom-com is a great script.

Though it often feels like the safest, most predictable version of the film we could’ve gotten, Stowaway is a tense, chilling space thriller that coasts to victory on the strength of its premise and the believability of its cast.

Shyamalan ingeniously places his leading man front and center, where McAvoy amuses and horrifies as the cliché plot points sometimes stumble.

Free Fire might be a trifle of a quippy, feature-length shootout, but it’s the best damned trifle of a quippy, feature-length shootout you’ll ever see.

Keanu gets a lot of things right, and almost just as many things wrong. Still, there’s absolutely enough here to make it worthwhile, especially if you’re a Key and Peele fan.

Freed from studio constraints, In The Earth is a psychedelic visual spectacle and a gory philosophical treatise on humanity’s nebulous and threatening relationship with nature. Restless audiences may quibble with the pacing and length, but fans of bombastic visual sequences and discomforting violence will find plenty to like.

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.

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.

This strange and anxious mixture of the Working Women comedies of yesteryear (think: 9 to 5, Baby Boom, and Working Girl) with the cramped hospital horror shows of our Saturday night sleepovers (recall: Visiting Hours, Halloween II, and Dream Warriors) is always compelling, always nerve-wracking, mostly funny, and agreeably gross.

As any good therapist will tell you, you can't embrace the future without coming to terms with your past. Resurrections is very, very conscious of this.

Turns out crafting a happy ending out of today's publishing apocalypse is tougher than staying upright on five-inch heels.

Whether we follow Han Solo through hyperspace for more adventures is up to Disney, but what we got here is enough to keep us coming back again and again...That’s the best kind of Star Wars movie.

Nagy puts an identifiable human face on the women who need abortions, and all the different reasons they can arrive at that decision. And Banks capably leads a stellar ensemble that elevates the sometimes clumsy screenplay.

The results are deliciously off-kilter, even if the sci-fi world Stearns has created is somewhat clumsily reverse-engineered to make his central premise possible.