The world-building might not be 100% there, but it’s a true crowd-pleaser that’s paced within an inch of its life.

The resulting film is lacking in subtlety at times, but the world-building offered up some fascinating details, especially in a time when we’re seeing real-life human professions be reconsidered as potential tasks for artificial intelligence.

The intangibility of Jamojaya‘s storytelling is both a blessing and a curse: it keeps things streamlined, but also prevents us from really being able to dig into just what makes James and Joyo tick. But that’s what’s so intriguing about the picture, even in its flaws.

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.

The film drags to some degree in the middle, but that’s because Domont isn’t afraid to wallow in the messiness of watching this relationship fall apart almost in real time. This is also the sort of movie that makes the viewer very, very grateful to see in the credits that an intimacy coordinator was involved, especially as things get darker towards the end.

The film is relatively sparing in how it depicts said atrocity, but the horror of it still comes through, while never distracting from the delicate bond that emerges between Jacqueline and Callie (Alia Shawkat), another ex-pat working as a tour guide through the ruins.

Shortcomings might have felt like more standard Sundance fare — an inoffensive slice-of-life portrait with an imperfect lead — were it not for its self-awareness and vibrant characters. While worth watching for Justin H. Min’s performance alone, Shortcomings will leave the viewer excited to see what Randall Park might do next as a director.

The chemistry between the two leads may not be indestructible, but luckily, their comedic chops and charismatic air give us a lot to root for.

There’s so much heart throughout Theater Camp — it also doesn’t overstay its welcome, landing at a tight 94 minutes packed to the minute with visual gags and quick comments you don’t want to miss.

It works, at least for a while — until the real short story stops and it’s time to get rid of the ambiguity.

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.

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.

For all its unrelenting grimness, it’s impossible to look away from Majors’ incredible, titanic performance — every downcast glance, every nervous grin through blood-soaked teeth, every rabid bark of his frustrated outbursts is completely and totally gripping.

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.

Houston’s magic as a performer was in her unpredictability; her voluminous range, the trailing vocal journey her famous runs took us on from note to note, measure to measure. When she (and Ackie) come alive on stage, Lemmons’ biopic soars with vibrating energy. It’s all the moments in between that grow ever more frustrating — the thin characterization, the flattening of her story into Behind the Music story beats, rushing from milestone to milestone without taking a breath.

Babylon slowly builds up its wackadoo cartoon version of Hollywood to tear it down at its foundation.

If the Avatar universe is going to be James Cameron’s preferred delivery method for visual spectacle on this scale going forward, then, let’s face it — by then, we’re all going to be itching for our next trip to Pandora.

It’s easily one of the best animated films of the year, and one of the most assured, endearing works of del Toro’s filmography.

Even if this story doesn’t hold its weight, it contains several worthwhile themes and ideas. Emancipation is an average film searching for something better, but can’t figure out how to get there.

While the best thing about this movie is its clarity of intent, the worst thing about it is that it uses blunt force to call out its reference points, name-checking both Die Hard and Home Alone repeatedly.

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.

Wakanda Forever, first and foremost is a film about grief — which is extremely fitting for a movie that, in another and perhaps better timeline, would have starred the man who led the original film to both box office and awards glory.

While one of the few downsides of Causeway is the lingering desire to spend more time with these characters, the film holds an excellent return to form for Jennifer Lawrence and makes a stellar case for many more leading man roles for Brian Tyree Henry.

For what it’s worth, Chastain and Redmayne make for an interesting on-screen duo, with both award-winning actors inhabiting roles that service their talents nicely. But by keeping us emotionally at arm’s length, The Good Nurse doesn’t actualize its dramatic potential to the fullest degree, relying mainly on the power of its stars to carry the story instead of building a much more intricate, immersive story around them.

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.

Berger’s take on All Quiet on the Western Front is a searing indictment of the futility of war, one that knows the way conflict erodes the human soul and the machinery that keeps that erosion moving. Its battle scenes are as impressively staged as they are visceral to watch, despite a few hinky ropes of CGI here and there.

The experience of watching Ticket to Paradise is pleasant enough; it goes down easy, like a smooth sugary mai tai. And for a while, it’s nice to just luxuriate in the confident hands of Clooney and Roberts, two movie stars who can coast through any old crap and make it fun. But after the sugar high of the honest-to-goodness blooper reel in the opening credits wears off, the rest of it is liable to give you a hangover.

On its own merits, Black Adam might feel a little thin in terms of story, but it does deliver plenty of enjoyable moments and a solid ensemble to back up Johnson. But perhaps the most exciting aspect of it is how it might shake up the rest of the franchise going forward.