Even some of its rawest emotional moments feel studiously cribbed from other movies, which is probably why not a single thing any character does throughout Don’t Make Me Go is genuinely surprising or even slightly unexpected. It’s a movie about the unpredictability and inherent dangers of a life well-lived, and you can set a watch to its screenwriting beats.

It’s clear that Luhrmann has a genuine affection for his eponymous star—having ensured that the film’s contents were above-board with Elvis’ relatives—but even with all of his auteurist trimmings, Elvis shares a narrative flatness with this new wave of musical biopics.

While the Netflix Original film manages to sneak in a few genuinely funny moments, it’s not nearly as action-packed, suspenseful or humorous as it aims to be.

Apples’ metaphorical backbone feels malnourished, its focus ever-inclined toward careful imagery as opposed to unraveling its inherent mythos. Nonetheless, Nikou’s debut offers interesting insight into the human psyche as it relates to memory and personhood while hinting at the fractured national identity of Greece itself.

Revealer aims for a seedy, late-night Cinemax vibe and successfully tells a story about the horrors of oppressing individual expression, but never meets the fullest potential of its premise.

A legacy sequel that does nothing to revitalize its characters, expand its canon, extend (heh) its mythos, or even really tell a new joke. I laughed through the whole thing.

The audience is asked to watch a number of anticlimactic, inconsequential moments for just a little too long, which ends up dull.

Though its actual storytelling is pretty arbitrary, The Black Phone has the emotional simplicity of a children’s film, wearing its grit like makeup.

In an industry still obsessed with youth, the message of Jerry & Marge Go Large is one worth celebrating.

While informative and worth watching, it’s much more of a self-authored back-pat than a critical exploration of a career or the justice system at large.

To its credit, After Blue is very easy on the eyes, reminiscent of the kitschy, saturated pulp mags Mandico is clearly borrowing from. But its illusory schtick is better suited for a short film, rather than being taffy-pulled into a feature with so many sugary gaps in logic and feeling. You’re better off taking an edible and pressing play on Hounds of Love.

What’s most compelling about Poser is the titular concept it seeks to unravel, one of deception and contrivance that epitomizes the ultimate sin in expressive art.

Tippett purges his Id until he’s wrung the last bit of bile from the Assassin’s journey, but even throughout all the harrowing imagery, the director never loses a sense of cinematic wonder.

Seeing successful Latino families in a storyline that has been heretofore just been told from a white perspective is important. But none of that would matter if Father of the Bride wasn’t entertaining. Thankfully, it is. Garcia and Estefan in particular are so at ease in their roles that they invite us to be part of the celebration.

Brian and Charles isn’t striving to be a technical achievement, and it works well as a thoughtful, sentimental, funny, uplifting buddy comedy. It’s quite a feat for a feature debut, and is guaranteed to leave you waiting for what Jim Archer will do next.

Lightyear is a beautiful starship with precious genre cargo, functional and direct in its simple mission to carry on.

The Jurassic World franchise may have willingly chosen extinction with this final entry, but Dominion would’ve killed it off anyways.

The epicenter of the film lies in its characters’ sexualities, from discussions about the unique struggle of gay Asian invisibility to refreshingly candid conversations regarding the minutiae of their sex lives.

If anything, The Janes is a call to find and form networks in one’s own community. It’s a reminder, as the inevitability of another abortion ban inches closer and closer every day, there will always be people who disregard what is lawful in favor of what is right—and documentary can be a tool in teaching what, who and how to effectively parse and evade that lawful, undeniably wrong side of history.

By the end of this movie, its inventive genre cross-breeding feels as worn-out as any other.

If it’s no longer surprising that Sandler is a good, steady actor, it’s still fun to find out he can find new ways to play to the cheap seats.

Digging into the art world’s juicy guts and suturing it up as a compelling, ambitious sci-fi noir, Crimes of the Future thrills, even if it leaves a few stray narrative implements sewn into its scarred cavities.

The movie never turns into a full-tilt caper, even as the obligatory end-credits appendix hints at enough material to inspire one. It’s stuck, charmingly and a little wanly, in another era.

White Elephant too often proceeds as dull and dreamy, an occasionally violent eulogy for a life of crime for which we have little context.

Neptune Frost is a powerful film, clean and digestible while it traffics in metaphors and deploys poetry and philosophy.

Rob Savage’s Dashcam is the equivalent of strapping a GoPro to a Republican edgelord’s dirty diaper and throwing it into a blender.

Kosinski’s dogfights are pristine, incredible feats of filmmaking, economical and orbiting around recognizable space, but given to occasional, inexplicable shocks of pure chaos. Then quickly cohering again.

The Bob’s Burgers Movie is a family recipe that warms the heart, griddle and soul.