Ultimately, Disclosure Day won't go down among Spielberg's greatest or best-remembered films, although ufologists may disagree. There are just too many basic flaws. However, I appreciate its scope and ambition, and it does enough to represent solid, blockbuster-level entertainment.

Masters of the Universe inhabits a gray zone where it's not quite humorous enough to be dismissed as a parody and enjoyed on that level, but it's also not strong enough to be viewed as some kind of epic fantasy.

[Parsons] is not so much a conventional storyteller as a director who establishes a mood and sets the viewer adrift in a sea of moments. The experience can be frustrating, but it's also rewarding. And that alone allows it to stand out in the current "play it safe" era of big-screen entertainment.

Pressure succeeds as a solid example of historical dramatization; the core circumstances, events, and figures are real, even if many interpersonal details have been invented. The result is engrossing, although the film is not likely to be remembered alongside the great movies about the war in Europe.

Imperfect but sometimes dazzling, I Love Boosters offers something in depressingly short supply in theaters these days: a fresh, imaginative vision driven more by creative impulses than the quest for big box-office dollars.

It's far from unwatchable and offers moments of enjoyability (I liked the high-energy prologue), but the film as a whole seems more disposable than the usual summer spectacle.

The result is a film that runs far too long and rarely generates enough tension or genuine horror to justify its runtime—or, indeed, its very existence.

As counter-programming to the early summer season's blockbusters, this delivers better than a lot of the more expensive titles against which it is competing. It serves as a potent reminder that a well-crafted atmosphere and a singular, focused vision can be far more terrifying than a hundred million dollars' worth of digital effects.

Mortal Kombat II falls victim to the same problems that have derailed many a game-to-movie translation: overemphasizing fan service and spectacle over a solid narrative.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is harmless enough, although it exists more as an afterthought than a legitimate continuation of a story that was fully told twenty years ago after the first 105 minutes.

When compared to the recent influx of musical biopics, this one sits somewhere in the middle; there is too little depth to elevate it to the top, but the soundtrack is too strong to let it sink to the bottom.

The obligatory concluding remark for a horror movie about the undead applies here: the best approach is to leave it buried.

In terms of checking off the genre’s requisite boxes, You, Me & Tuscany does just enough to earn a passing grade for rom-com devotees who prioritize "vibes" over cinematic standards.

While I admired the lead performances, the journey of The Drama remains unfulfilling. When I see a movie like this, I want to connect with the characters and believe their circumstances. I got some of the former but practically none of the latter.

If the idea of spending 90 minutes in a movie theater seeing gorgeously rendered versions of a hugely popular gaming world and its characters going through the motions appeals to you, then The Super Mario Galaxy Movie will scratch the itch.

This has "future cult film" written all over it. But, for those who are more concerned about the here and now, this is a film that delivers on its own peculiar brand of delights before wearing out its welcome.

There are far worse horror sequels clogging up the streaming services, and Ready or Not 2: Here I Come at least occasionally delivers on the promised gore and dark humor. Still, for those who just want to see Samara Weaving go scorched-earth on some devil-worshippers one more time, there are enough viscera and sharp objects to provide a passing entertainment.

Project Hail Mary is more about the wonder of the unknown and the satisfaction of finding new friends.

Ultimately, The Bride! has "cult classic" written all over it. It possesses very little mainstream appeal—it is simply too weird and outlandish for the average moviegoer—but there are enough flashes of brilliance to fascinate a niche audience in years to come.

There is a sense of formulaic efficiency here that provides entertainment without soul-stirring depth.

There’s only so far you can take a slasher series without doing something truly off-the-wall. Since the studio refused to attempt a radical refit, we’re left with this: a franchise-charring dumpster fire.

Looking back at Psycho Killer as a whole, the missteps in the final 20–30 minutes easily overwhelm some of the earlier, better material. It's tough to recommend this even as a streaming time-waster.

If the mandate for any new interpretation is to offer something fresh, one is left wondering what this version claims as its justification for taking up over two hours of our time.

While the climax does not lack for action, the overall resolution feels flaccid and undercooked.

Solo Mio is pretty much what one could reasonably expect from a Kevin James romantic movie: genial, good-natured, and ultimately pretty bland.

If the legend of Dracula has become tired through overuse, there is certainly nothing in this iteration to grant the old Count a new lease on life.

For action fans, Shelter scratches an itch, even if it’s destined to be little more than a passing distraction.

Send Help makes for an interesting counterpoint to Swept Away; the similarities are too frequent to be coincidental. Yet, where the Wertmüller film openly courted controversy for its misogynistic elements, Send Help is a more straightforward, crowd-pleasing endeavor.