Push feels like a long joke waiting for a punchline that never lands. Or worse, one that makes you feel stupid for not getting it, even though the setup was never quite clear to begin with.

As a feature-film directorial debut, 40 Acres marks a stunning entrance for Thorne into the cinematic landscape—Canadian or otherwise.

Sorry, Baby, the feature debut of American writer-director Eva Victor, who also stars, is a clear announcement of an original new talent able to create highly inventive visuals with a limited budget. It is also a terrific — and sad and funny and contemplative — testimony about how trauma profoundly stains people’s lives, with far-reaching and unpredictable outcomes.

The humour is scattershot, the themes undercooked, and despite some high-tech window dressing, M3GAN 2.0 ultimately feels more refurbished than a technical evolution.

Last Take: Rust and the Story of Halyna is informative (albeit distressing) but doesn’t offer any final answers about the accident that cost Hutchins her life.

Digressive, sure, but hot damn the film is fun, its 155-minute running time as slick as the track at Monza in a rainstorm. And just in time for summer.

Like every cringeworthy wedding you’ve ever attended, it leaves one with a lukewarm smile, and the hope that the time invested in witnessing this spectacle of forced happiness will be appreciated.

The Scottish green hills and forests make for an intriguing change of scenery for the series, with nighttime given that added edge of dread that comes with unseen menace and glowing eyes.

If you're looking for a little kid–friendly movie, Pixar’s delightful new animation Elio is just the ticket.

Materialists is fun and satisfying and, thanks its wonderful cast, full of tender sweetness.

Endless Cookie is a treasure. It’s a fantastic family story — you will fall in love with Peter’s creative offspring — but also a disheartening look at the realities of Indigenous life in Canada.

DeBlois elevates a beloved cinema memory and creates a spectacle, a mythical fairy tale—Game of Thrones lite—with enough DreamWorks Animation magic to warrant its own theme park ride.

It is engaging, warm, touching, and sincere without being cloying or manipulative.

It’s all very sobering stuff and the film does a good job of capturing the kaleidoscopic awesomeness-slash-weirdness of being inside a tiny, agile vessel dipped to heretofore unimaginable depths.

In the end, The Phoenician Scheme has a warm and beating heart.

For all its proclamations of authenticity, The Ritual feels no more grounded than a message from a Ouija board. And that, perhaps, is the real possession at work here: truth, struggling to be a spectacle.

The stunts are super-human, the combat is exhilarating, and definitely in the realm of the unrealistic. But that’s the joy in watching an animated show and suspending disbelief. The audience wants to be entertained and this film certainly does that with its detailed explanations of how these technologically-backward heroes are even able to stay in the fight.

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.