At the end of the night, The Addams Family is a comedy, and a good one at that, delivering the kind of morbid humor that reminds us why we’ll always accept their invitations.

Roman J. Israel, Esq. is sometimes a compelling movie and often a difficult one to keep with, but it’s a flawed challenge that you’ll be grateful you gave a chance all the same.

The Final Year may feel like a fly-on-the-wall production, but there’s an element of careful curation in the personalities and events shown that undercuts some of their earnestness.

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.

It’s fascinating when Smith chronicles Carrey’s stunt in tandem with gags he tested on late night shows.

Like Prince’s music, perhaps this film is best taken in for its sensation and not its literal output. That, and the dialogue is just ridiculous. But Prince looks cool, owns his story’s loose ideology of churlish change, and stages some marvelously ornate shots.

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.

Like Italy before it, Spain doesn’t prove as rich a journey as Coogan and Brydon’s original trip. For fans of the comics, bits, scenery, and pacing, the formula is still successfully in play for the most part, and everyone will pick out their favorite moments of Coogan and Brydon’s brilliant shtick.

You may not come away feeling like you know much about Wheatle himself, but you get to spend an hour in his shoes.

Stone, Thompson, and the gang are all having a ball wearing incredible costumes and living up a squeaky-clean version of ’70s punk fabulousness, and it’s hard not to let that infectious glee take over for a while.

The little beats throughout Cold Pursuit are distinctive enough to cover for this gory caper’s periodic misfires.

Whether you like Wendy will depend almost entirely on your continued tolerance for the baby-Malick stirrings of Zeitlin’s style: roving, evocative camerawork; the unpolished roughness of unknown child performers; treacly sentiment pouring from each horn blast of Romer’s score; or France’s storybook narration. At nearly two hours, that’s a lot of syrup to pour down your throat, and the unapologetic mawkishness of it all can rankle after a while, even if you’re attuned to the film’s wavelength.

Great performances but not enough revelations.

TRON: Ares doesn’t seem poised to change the culture in anything resembling a similar way; while it has a lot more life to it than the inert TRON: Legacy, Ares keeps its focus on big spectacle as opposed to big ideas.

Something’s missing in Complete Unknown, and it’s a spiritual issue. The problem is that for this situation, the unlikely reunion, a natural approach restricts any and all sensationalism, which is why the ending neither bruises nor squeezes — it just lingers.

Child’s Play is pure entertaining fun for the horror fan, but not much else. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel, nor does it offer much depth, particularly with its characters. While the cast is amiable enough, they’re mostly surface-level archetypes.

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.

The messy plot will lose some, and others will find its over-saccharine emotions a reach, but to paraphrase Steve’s description of flight: If you can catch the movie’s uplifting wind, it will transcend the sum of its parts.

Right from the start, Chip n’ Dale: Rescue Rangers knows what it wants to be. It’s clever! It’s playful! It’s meta! Turning the story into a tale of Hollywood has-beens is surely intriguing, and the appeal of the chipmunks investigating a neo-noir mystery largely worked in its favor. However, all the hard-boiled, real world capers may leave fans of the original longing for an altogether different type of revival, more in line with Disney+’s successful, if tragically canceled, reinvestment in DuckTales.

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

For a first-time feature, Hall’s approach to the material is surprisingly nuanced and sensitive. There’s a matter-of-factness to his presentation of these characters’ respective dramas that feels honest and true, if a little unencumbered by formal ambition.

Ambulance tightens the story’s frequent ridiculousness into genuine tension; it’s just retro enough to feel like an old-fashioned thriller done up with some newfangled tech that doesn’t choke the images with overly obvious CG.

The problem is that, unlike The Big Short, he can’t seem to wrestle with the drama, and when Vice takes a more dramatic turn towards its manic third act, McKay’s preaching winds up feeling like Oliver Stone, Jr. All of those meta, tongue-in-cheek quirks start becoming self righteous and smug when they used to be clever and decisive. It’s a damn shame

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.

It’s a feel-good film that honestly feels good, and even when it rings a bit hollow, it doesn’t stay that way for long.

Chevalier‘s reliance on biopic tropes does it no favors, and the lighting and set design are pretty drab in comparison to the excellent costumes. However, it is also bolstered by the incredible performances of Harrison and Adékoluẹjo, the smart screenplay by Robinson, and Williams’ direction, especially in the opening and ending sequence.

Think of Timmy Failure like a food truck: the best ones do one or two things really well, and commit to just doing those things. With McCarthy et al., Timmy Failure‘s virtues are an expertly-delivered dry wit that works for kids and adults alike, and a series of adorable performances, from Fegley and the rest of the kids to the all-too-game adults.

Anyone who has a heart for 1960s London and its cultural output will find something to appreciate in this sleek and stylish love letter to the era. Anyone who likes either of the types of films that Last Night in Soho is trying to be will probably find something worth watching in it, too. Few will get any proper satisfaction from it, though.