With Sir David as our guide, it’s a theme well worth plunging into.

It’s all claustrophobic and terrible and … wildly entertaining.

In short, Ballerina is as close to a John Wick 5 as you are going to get without calling it that.

It has the potential to be a cracking good comedy, and the trailer suggests as much. But in the end, all this proves is that you can distill two minutes of hilarity from 96 of meh.

Ultimately, Bring Her Back is a film of contradictions: intimate and epic, bloody and cerebral, empathetic and terrifying. It’s the kind of horror that might take until long after the credits roll before its full impact lands.

Two Women, for all its entertainment value, is silly and shallow, though deeper than porn, it must be said.

It's clear the formula for the last film is the expectation for this one, but what’s missing is the believability behind it.

Disney’s Lilo & Stitch is about a dangerous alien lifeform that escapes from its creators, arrives on a backward planet and charms the inhabitants. Which is not a bad metaphor for Disney itself. It continues to remake hand-drawn animated classics as bloated live-action spectacles, hoping a nostalgic moviegoing public will continue to greet them with open arms and wallets.

Although the film gets the mood and feeling right, the story is maddeningly spotty. Its arrow is in the bow, but it feels like it’s one rewrite away from neatly hitting the mark.

Not to put too fine a point on this or anything, but Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning is an interminable slog.

Final Destination: Bloodlines doesn’t completely reinvent the wheel. It realigns the tires and tightens a few bolts. And for a franchise that is built on inevitability and expectations, that’s as close to cheating death as you could hope.

This is not a rousing movie that people are going to come away from energized. Still, it’s an interesting approach to an extended ad for an album.

Geriatric killers are nothing new at the movies — think of John Wick, Red or Taken — but The Old Woman with The Knife has a lot more than exhilarating action scenes going on. The way the elderly are regarded and treated underlies much of the storytelling, and there’s an emotional element that’s unexpected for the genre.

The film is long and slow, but never boring. There is, however, a sense that the various storylines are not woven together completely.

It’s conceptually unsettling and bold, but there are some hiccups with the execution.

With its elliptical, patched-together structure and multi-year duration, Caught By the Tides can be a challenging film to follow but, by the end, it achieves something both original and rewarding.

In short, there is much to enjoy in Bonjour Tristesse, but the film as a whole never quite rises to the level of its best parts. And that’s a little sad.

Viewers are better served by submitting to the immersive thrill of it all, in the context of a film that doesn’t ask us to ask too much of ourselves.

Don't expect high heroic drama, but definitely be prepared for some laughs and even a bit of MCU canonical continuity, believe it or not.

Their creative process in action is just one of the cool archival treats in Cheech & Chong’s Last Movie, a jam-packed two hours of pop cultural hindsight that is part extended sketch, part couples therapy, and part traditional documentary.

Havoc is a frenetic action movie with tons of in-your-face violence and it’s kind of fun to watch — the carnage is so exaggerated that it becomes cartoonish.

Neighborhood Watch has a conventional story motif: the unlikely duo who can barely stand each other, team up and despite their own misgivings, in the end discover something about themselves that surpasses their original goal. It may be formulaic in its composition, but there’s comfort in this predictability.

On Swift Horses is best admired as a visual tone poem to the era, not so much a realistic story. The conceit of casting characters who seem too splendid for their surroundings evokes the movie melodramas of the fifties, the time of Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift.

Until Dawn is a gleeful reimaging of the classic slasher film, modifying the tropes enough to turn the familiar into something fresh.

It’s predictable but entertaining. Unrealistic, but it doesn’t affect the story too much. The relationship between Braxton and Christian has changed from the first film, but it’s a welcome, feel-good change in a story with lots of guns and an epic battle.

There are a lot of moments that are quirky, but the film never quite finds the right comedic rhythm. Things that should feel funny rarely rise to make us chuckle, and too often the film, which does have a genuine warmth, falls flat.

Odd but meaningful, Secret Mall Apartment, is an entertaining documentary about how a group of eight young artists secretly maintained an apartment — from 2003 to 2007 — in a hidden nook in the Providence Place, Rhode Island, shopping center.

Sinners, the new film directed by Ryan Coogler and starring Michael B. Jordan, needs no more than a one-word review; Stunning. Magical also works. So does unforgettable.

Psycho Therapy is a charming return to form for the adult comedy—dialogue-driven, character-first, and delightfully absurd. A smart and silly piece of narrative chaos that earns every word of its unwieldy title.

One to One does the couple a disservice, being too fragmented and random to declaratively or persuasively elevate them as cultural visionaries despite featuring abundant never-before-seen material and newly restored footage. Strictly for fans of Lennon/Ono or very deep 1970s nostalgia.

It Feeds delivers a layered and unpredictable narrative. Much of that independent energy comes from its strong ensemble cast: Ashley Greene, Ellie O’Brien, Juno Rinaldi, Shayelin Martin, Shawn Ashmore, and Scott Baker.

It would help if you were a deep-dive fan, hungry for ephemera and eager to hear stuff Young has rarely, if ever, played for an audience.

Drop is neither profound nor plausible. But it is timely and, as a cautionary tale told in an era where first dates can live or die on how often we glance at our phones, a lot of fun. But buying into the outrageous premise depends on your tolerance for high-stakes nonsense and your patience with neurotic dinner partners. Thankfully, I have experience with both.

A visceral cross-section of an Iraq War incident, related by the veterans who served there, Warfare stuns viewers into submission and leaves them with a grim apprehension of military service - albeit as close as one gets without being there.

Sacramento is a well-made, well-acted comedy drama that does just about everything right and almost nothing unexpected.

We Were Dangerous is a cracking good story and an auspicious directorial debut from filmmaker Josephine Stewart-Te Whiu.

Despite the presence and performances of the likes of Mira Sorvino and John Cusack, Fog of War fails to deliver what it promises: a war-time mystery filled with suspense and intrigue.

A new biopic of women’s wrestling pioneer Mildred Burke is nobody’s idea of a great movie, but it’s an entertaining cheese-fest with a lot of stagey charm.

It’s a lovely, quirky tale, full of ruminations on regret, love coming from (and directed to) unexpected quarters, and a bizarre broken faucet that won’t not work.

A gentle and affecting drama from directors David Siegel and Scott McGehee about grief, loss, and the unconditional love available from a dog.

Oliveros keeps the pressure high in his briskly running film that’s propelled by a bloopy, squelchy soundtrack and a volley between harried behind-the-scenes scenes and stage-managed on-set pieces. The script drops enough red herrings to keep everyone guessing about everyone else’s agendas, elevating an otherwise straightforward story.

Typically, action films benefit from a standout villain in an unexpected role. But with A Working Man, Ayer, along with Stallone and Chuck Dixon as co-screenwriters, dilutes the role of the villain so much and so often, that it becomes challenging to determine whom to harbour a grudge against and to what extent.

Something about its proportions felt a little off. There was a touch too much flashback, an excess of cutaway, and a slight oversupply of innuendo in the early going that made the big emotional climax feel like it hadn’t quite earned its emotional beats.

The Penguin Lessons is a charmer: a warmer of cockles, a tugger of heartstrings, even a jerker of tears if you’re not careful. And while it may in hindsight seem a little over-engineered to do all those things, that doesn’t dampen the effect. People’s Choice material or not, I loved it.

Moments of brilliance notwithstanding, the comedy and the dark look at human nature in Misericordia never quite meld. For any student of human nature, that unreliable narrator and the gang of unlikeable characters may eventually wear thin.

That the movie also inspires more wholesome feelings is entirely thanks to Ferreira (Euphoria), whose character communicates enough warmth, energy and emotional fragility to make even a doubtful curmudgeon soften a little.

Geremy Jasper’s O’dessa is a dystopian rock opera lacking the essential elements of soul, rhythm, and the rebellious spirit characteristic of rock ‘n’ roll. It’s a tone-deaf attempt at greatness that ultimately falls short.

While there is pleasure to be had in watching De Niro play opposite De Niro, an overly detailed plot gets in the way, making it a listless and frustrating watch.

There are not many films on the release schedule with good writing and plotting, wit and solid acting. That’s an exceptional combination in a quick bite of the spy movie genre.

It’s one helluva conversation starter, from one very thought-provoking story.

As long as you don’t mistake Opus for a thriller, it’s a fun ride at the movies.

A raucous, non-stop, full-throttle slapstick comedy that makes an episode of The Three Stooges seem like a production of Swan Lake.

It’s a modern story that pays homage to the vintage stylings of this pair of characters, a blast from the past that should last for a new generation of cartoon aficionados.

The Rule of Jenny Pen is a dark and deeply unsettling film. Lithgow is unhinged and Rush is the perfect foil to attempt to bring him down.

Mickey 17 is a long ride with a running time of about two hours and twenty minutes, with unexpected twists and turns. It’s a lot of fun, and as previously noted, is stuffed with ideas.

The Silent Planet is, at first glance, an ungainly pile of science-fiction tropes and platitudes that has no right to gel into anything cohesive or interesting. But do give it a second glance, because it does just that.

This is as close to a grilled cheese on white made with Kraft Singles as a movie can get. Comforting in its way but so blandly familiar.

This fictional recreation is wonderfully claustrophobic, but the storytelling does not include enough character development to leave a viewer fully invested.

A semi-autobiographical and powerfully moving story by Kyle Hausmann-Stokes, My Dead Friend Zoe is inaccurately described as a “dark comedy” or as a “buddy film”.

Fighting giant robots - even though they are so freakin’ cool - aren’t enough to make a great film, and I know after forty years, this won’t change.

Ultimately, Grand Theft Hamlet — again, I’m referring to both the performance and the movie — is an emotional triumph. Best of all, you don’t need to be an experienced gamer to enjoy it, though I’m sure there are in-jokes for the initiated.

As written by Italy’s Paolo Sorrentino (who also directs), there is precious little going on beneath that alabaster exterior. One can only have characters ask each other “What are you thinking?” so many times before it feels as though the question is being begged.

As you might expect from King, The Monkey is dark, ruthless, and violent. What you might not expect is just how funny it is. Like, it's genuinely hilarious.

It’s jittery in its pacing, the characters thinly drawn, and the youth crime drama elements formulaic...At the same time, the film feels emotionally original in its discordantly tender moments.

As a turn-your-brain-off, tech-heavy action movie, Captain America: Brave New World succeeds well enough. As a Marvel movie that connects with other Marvel movies in any meaningful way, or charts a new direction (other than that vague suggestion of a “New Avengers”), it’s little more than a space-filler.

A shamelessly feel-good movie buoyed by dynamic, lived-in performances, Suze offers emotional rewards far grander than its simple story might suggest. And it’s an honest pleasure to watch.

Despite some impressive kills and a respectable body count, Heart Eyes is more romcom than slasher. However, it's a genre mishmash that creates a wholly unexpected delight. Imagine Jason Voorhees stumbling onto the set of Sleepless in Seattle or an entry in the Scream franchise directed by Garry Marshall.

Thick with dank atmosphere and well-acted with a cast that includes Colm Meaney and Barry Keoghan, it’s a drama about angry men with mommy issues that starts with a slow burn and ends up to its ears in gore.

The good news is that the whole shebang lasts just 83 minutes, stem to stern. The bad news is that you can only coast along on your love of Quan’s natural charm and screen presence for 60- or 65-minutes tops.

In short, Universal Language is something of bag of mixed nuts, a Frankenfilm, a cinematic turducken, with comic non-sequiturs and sight gags linked by three narrative strands.

Dark Match, a recent addition to a growing line of stream-screams, combines the melodramatic tensions of a sports drama with 80s-style schlock horror.

This is a story that could easily have descended into something very seamy, but Lee keeps the film's tone light. Sonny and Chester are lovely people, who are on the level and really, really like each other.

In I’m Still Here, Walter Salles’ first feature film in a dozen years, the Brazilian director manages an impressive feat of teleporting, placing the viewer inside the cheerful chaos of a large Brazilian family.

Companion ultimately delivers on three levels. It’s a creepy (and occasionally bloody, and also funny) thriller. It’s a whodunit, or maybe a whatdunit. And it’s a philosophical door-opener into questions to ask of ourselves when it comes to our computational creations — what to make of them, whether and how much to feel for them, whether we owe them anything.

Frothy, but deceptively dense, Liza: A Truly Terrific Absolutely True Story focuses on Liza’s psychology and her friendships and teachers through the 1960s and 1970s.

While there are a few twists in the film, much like the certainty of a flight delay, none arrive unexpectedly.

Even Discovery fans will have to admit this spin-off is just simply a weakly told story. The characters are contrived and even a talent like Michelle Yeoh can’t save it.

The film’s star Amy Adams balances relatable comedy with dramatic empathy. In practice though, Nightbitch fails to converge their talents, resulting in a film of interesting moments that drifts to a tepid conclusion.

Hard Truths is a film centered on a difficult, damaged human being. Watching the movie is not unlike the experience of being in the company of just such a person — uncomfortable, sobering, deeply moving.

It’s a ghost story, a minor entry in Soderbergh’s oeuvre but still worthy of attention.

As a movie, it’s riveting. It also ends up being a thoughtful study in media coverage very much worth contemplating.

Despite being top-heavy in themes, Whannell’s Wolf Man is a plodding, uninspired tale that discards folklore—there are no full moons or silver bullets—and squanders the talent of its cast.

Yes, Anderson is good, but it’s the film that ultimately lets her down.

Anyone looking for an uplifting story in the mode of Spotlight or Erin Brockovich won’t find gratification in Ross’s sombre film. Nickel Boys, a film that impresses and occasionally perplexes, is not a story of delayed justice achieved, or the suffering of others appreciated from a safe historical distance.

Figuring out Nick’s motivations may be the most fun you’ll have over the film’s two-hour-plus runtime, though that isn’t saying much.

What the film communicates, along with the platonic love story, is how exhausting - morally, mentally and physically - the experience of being in a rock band can be.

The reward of the film is watching these two consummate performers playing off each other. Moore is characteristically empathetic and sincere. Swinton, by contrast, is enigmatic and controlling as they wrestle with their different agendas and find mutual consolation in their friendship.

On one hand, its chief conceit is commendably weird: the adult Williams is played by Jonno Davies as a chimpanzee filmed in motion capture, conjured with CGI to humanoid effect, and voiced by its subject. Daring! Yet its story follows a ho-hum biopic trajectory structurally indistinguishable from recent entries such as Rocketman and Bohemian Rhapsody.

There is a meanness of spirit to all of this, an uncomfortable awkwardness that seemingly can’t end well.

Helped along by a fantastic cast, the storytelling is so rich and vibrant and the characters so well drawn that the film never flags.

The good news is that director James Mangold has made a rich, vibrant movie chronicling four key years in Dylan’s life and career without demystifying either the man or his creative process. Together with a uniformly brilliant cast, he’s made one of the best films of 2024.

Eggers is honouring the legacy of the original Nosferatu, and he gives us a worthy film. But one wishes that he’d gone father in his own direction. A little bit more of his focused madness would have been welcome.

Their physical relationship seems highly unlikely in every element. It is weirdly mechanical and not remotely erotic, and worst of all, you never forget that you’re watching a movie.

The series still has lots of heart, but its quality is moving in the wrong direction.

The End may literally be a little tone deaf, but it is not morally senseless.

Craig is easily the best thing in Queer, which grows a little maudlin at the end. Burroughs himself never properly completed the story, having lost interest along the way. But that’s not to say that his performance is the sole reason to see it.

Paul Schrader’s latest film Oh, Canada, based on Russell Banks’ final novel Foregone, is a confined affair, suggesting the art of constructing complicated toy sailing ships in small bottles. Confined, but complicated.

A cinematic version of this story definitely wasn’t needed. But then again, neither was the hero.