The Mule is a functional take on capitalism, work-life balance, and the creeping, overlong process that is aging. The tense moments click.

The Thanksgiving table is a perfect battleground for these heavily entrenched political lines, with Barinholtz’s smart, nuanced script pulling no punches. While the satire definitely loses some of its bite in its wild, unpredictable closer, the film still takes Barinholtz and Haddish to fascinating places as performers – neither of them have been as intense or vulnerable onscreen to date.

Sisters is made of pure, frenzied comic momentum.

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.

Fittingly, The Midnight Sky suffers from the same weightlessness as its astronauts — Clooney opens his big, wet soulful eyes, and Alexandre Desplat‘s overly-aggressive score lays on the emotion as thick as syrup, but none of it lands.

Although the movie is warm and affectionate enough, Dean is not very good, and at its worst the film treats its audience as if it is fairly stupid.

Creative Control ably captures the entitled narcissism of modern Brooklyn twentysomethings by way of a plausible near-future,

Waititi’s witty script and colorful supporting role as Adolf Hitler are the obvious comedic highlights of Jojo Rabbit. But the film only works because it manages to nail its balance of tones.

Jump scares are all Sandberg seems to have in his bag of tricks, and each is clunkily executed and met with an agonizing, ear-piercing shriek. Watching Lights Out is like standing next to an idiot with an air horn, never quite knowing when it’s about to blow in your ear. It’s a far cry from the freaky grace of his short.

One of Eastwood's most pleasing character studies since Million Dollar Baby.

Snowden is a film of sincere outrage, even when it strains to articulate that outrage in a less from-the-headlines manner.

What Skin lacks in history, context, or behavioral psychology, it compensates for with pure angst, dread, and guilt. It’s the human element, the bare skin as it were, that makes this film stand out. It’s a melodrama with characters that inspire interest, if not fondness.

Happy Death Day is a lot of fun when it allows itself to have fun.

Brahman Naman is like a crispy Samosa with nothing at the center. The Netflix release, directed by Qaushiq Mukherjee, pays homage to American sex comedies from Porky’s and Revenge of the Nerds to There’s Something About Mary, but lacks the heart to go along with the excess of raunch.

The Next Level just feels like more of the same, and some of its bigger swings might just even border on the irresponsible. As kids’ fare goes, this series remains weird enough to not totally write it off. But for the next version, they might have to work out some of the bugs.

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.

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.

The Finest Hours is exactly that. Fine, while embracing its studio aesthetic and morally true heroism.

While treating entrepreneurism like a classic Greek tragedy isn’t a bad idea in theory, Nguyen’s script is more than a little clunky, and the imagery nakedly self-serving. It’s a film about two people digging a hole so they can make ten more dollars per transaction, no matter how handsomely it’s presented.

Drew Pearce‘s Hotel Artemis...falls victim to much of what ails any ensemble picture — rushed plotting, forced coincidence, indulgence — but still manages to make a big impression.

The One and Only Ivan always “feels” like a movie without actually being compelling enough to be truly entertaining.

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.

For Good doesn't successfully sell Elphaba's decree that "no good deed will I do again," one of the movie's many muddled moments. It does, however, reflect an age where every message feels muddled, no hero can be trusted. All we know is that something is rotten here.

Although the changes to the source material are guaranteed to polarize some Stephen King fans, Pet Sematary bucks the remake trap of simply paying homage to an iconic piece of horror. Instead, it makes drastic changes to the plot so it can ultimately go more complex with its themes. That’s a hell of a trick to pull off. Sometimes, different is better.

Regardless of its seemingly admirable intent and ambition, The Laundromat is not a good film. It’s sloppy, and self-indulgent, and in no way worthy of the self-satisfaction it brings to its big conclusion. It’s not without its amusing moments and solid performances, but it is, in the end, a thoroughly frustrating and tedious experience.

Spinal Tap II holds onto the real sense that these men, despite everything they've been through, have loved each other almost their entire lives. Guest and McKean in particular met in college in the late 1960s, and they've been playing music together ever since; there's something beautiful about the fact that they've found their way to this moment, after so many decades — one where the only laughter they care about is each other's.

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.

You know the characters, the beats, and the general arc. You know how it will end before the first act concludes, and that’s fine. The journey’s pleasant enough.