With seemingly no understanding of how tone-deaf it might be to cast a straight, white, able-bodied blonde like Schumer as victimized by society’s judgment, the lazily written I Feel Pretty takes a talented comic and casts her in the worst possible light (and I don’t mean that literally — she looks fine).

Their clashing on the court has steam heat. For well over 10 minutes, the electrifying finals match is re-created realistically and with unexpected suspense, even though we’ve known the result for 38 years.

Despite Franco’s laudable desire to shake up a stodgy genre, his film could have done with more life, and less art.

A supernatural “What’s Happening to My Body?” parable in company with “Carrie,” “Ginger Snaps” and last year’s “Thelma,” Wildling is low-key with an undertone of menace, skillfully directed by Fritz Böhm in his feature debut (though some of his nighttime scenes are so dark it’s genuinely hard to tell what’s going on).

It’s big, bloated, and, if you give in to the familiar charms of its jacked leading man, not unenjoyable. (Alternately, you could easily just let it induce a little nap.)

Chappaquiddick is far from a love letter to the famous family. It paints them as a hollow dynasty of pretty faces hiding behind a powerful name, while real men of intellect and influence puppeteer their every move. Camelot, it’s not. And, as this terrific movie suggests, the American people fall for their polished BS every time.

A jalapeño popper of a movie — fast, filling and punchy — and a likable throwback to the films of M. Night Shyamalan. The good ones, anyway.

Blockers is the latest example of the millennium’s most dispiriting film trend: Stupid drunk people making stupid drunk decisions for two stupid hours.

The Scottish director’s short, blunt thriller is so violently nerve-jangling that it feels like a stretch to recommend it, exactly.

My main beef is with Spielberg’s choice to leave out his own work, both as producer and director: “I didn’t corner the ’80s market,” he told Entertainment Weekly. But yeah, he kind of did.

If there’s a flaw in Unsane, it’s that the screenplay by Jonathan Bernstein and James Greer doesn’t play its hand closer to the vest. The pleasure here is in watching and wondering what’s real and what isn’t, but all too soon it’s spelled out for us. Nevertheless, it’s great fun to watch it all come together — or, more accurately, fall apart.

Anderson’s gorgeous stop-motion animated film is much more than just a transdermal patch for America’s cuteness addiction. Instead, he’s crafted a wicked smart satire of moronic local politicians that fits in snuggly with his eclectic oeuvre.

It’s a canny blend of “Degrassi” and John Hughes, but here the kids mostly behave like angels. Love, Simon is the rare, feel-good gay movie.

A film so rife with plot holes that it would make a decent pasta strainer.

Too often content to smile beatifically instead of delivering the necessary thrills.

Even an 11th-hour cameo from the late Dick Gregory as Ella’s long-ago boyfriend can’t keep The Leisure Seeker from being, well, forgettable.

Preying on a hurting city might be forgiven if the movie was any good. But Willis, who was once a formidable action star, is performing “Die Hard With an Ambien” as he exhibits zero emotion and mutters under his breath like an accountant who’s upset with his boss.

“Do you know how long it takes to peel the skin from a human body?” a torture-happy Russian goon asks in Red Sparrow. I imagine it feels about as long as sitting through this atrocious spy thriller.

Despite a terrific cast and a sexy noir look to rival the two “Blade Runner” films, Jones (son of David Bowie) delivers a bit of a letdown.

Ambitious and messy, Annhilation will likely leave you with more questions than answers. Mine is: “When can I see it again?”

A riotous dark comedy in which a cute suburban get-together becomes a lethal nightmare.

More frustratingly, Brooks jumps back and forth in time between the couple’s past relationship and the current day, with nary a physical or emotive change evident in either party. It becomes a task just to figure out which timeline you’re in, and then convince yourself why you should care.

It’s a more somber companion to Marjane Satrapi’s 2007 film “Persepolis,” which explored life under the Iranian Revolution with dark humor: Here, the laughter’s mostly a prelude to tears.

Like all the best comics movies, this one’s got a villain (Michael B. Jordan) so compelling he nearly steals the show from the hero (Chadwick Boseman). And sure, the futuristic African country of Wakanda may be fictional, but it’s brimming with cultural resonance.

A warm-hearted and ambitiously honest look at the pros and cons of monogamy, but it tends to be understated to the point of underwhelming.

Compelling drama it is not.

For anyone looking for a shot of vengeance adrenaline while waiting for “John Wick 3” to come down the pike, Braven will probably fit the bill.

The Death Cure doesn’t work on every level. The movie has, for the most part, jettisoned many of the story’s previous science fiction elements to focus more on action. In so doing, it relies on a lot of repeat devices to earn its thrills — namely perfectly-timed, life-saving rescues, often from the sky. Sometimes, you just want to hear some scientists talk shop for a minute.