It’s disposable action entertainment – a throw-away title that’s not bad enough to turn off but not good enough to seek out.

The only reason Adult Life Skills is getting attention in 2019, nearly three years after it was finished, is because lead actress Jodie Whittaker is now bigger than big.

All These Small Moments offers a mix of honesty and artifice. Some of the scenes simmer with truth; others are too obviously the construct of a screenplay.

Glass, the third film in what has become a trilogy, comes across as a mix of half-formed ideas baked into an uneven casserole. Overlong, talky, filled with meta references, and with a strangely low-energy tone, the movie never fully gels.

The film’s predictability is offset by what Hart and Cranston bring to the proceedings.

Rust Creek, an uneven but ultimately satisfying thriller from indie director Jen McGowan, seamlessly blends horror and thriller elements across its 108-minute running time.

The movie may attract some attention from horror/thriller fans eager for a post-Halloween fix but this is no better than a direct-to-video production masquerading as a theatrical release.

The scenario explored by Ben is Back starts out strongly but, with writer/director Peter Hedges unwilling to remain firmly rooted within the hard, mundane rhythms of a family drama, it loses focus and borders on the preposterous as it races toward an improbable climax.

Whether or not Kusama made this film with the intention of proving that this kind of story, often presented with a male character and from a male point-of-view, can be as compelling (and perhaps even more so) with a gender-flip, she has achieved that.

The movie works in large part because of the depth of Steinfeld’s performance. We haven’t seen such a well-realized character in any of the other Transformers movies.

Aquaman refuses to do anything original or unpredictable and turns into a by-the-numbers tale of how the trident-carrying King of Atlantis becomes a protector of both land and sea. It accomplishes this by hoping that special effects saturation will compensate for screenplay weaknesses.

Vice feels like a documentary-wannabe that never achieves whatever it’s trying to do. It rehashes events and information that have long been part of the public record and, despite the abundance of acting talent at director Adam McKay’s disposal, none of the characters achieve escape velocity.

Abetted by a strong lead performance from actress Felicity Jones, the film stands as a monument to gender equality at a time when that subject has become a hot-button issue due to the upheaval associated with the “#metoo” movement.

Cold War features a few too many ellipses and occasionally substitutes operatic tragedy for credible motivations. This results in a film that, although breathtaking to watch and emotionally wrenching, is strangely unsatisfying.

Mary Poppins Returns is an imperfect sequel but as a throw-away holiday film designed to provide a family viewing experience, it satisfies a need.

The film’s ensemble cast provides a case study in unforced, emotionally powerful acting.

The film’s biggest problem is its uneven pacing.

Mortal Engines, the movie adaptation of Philip Reeve’s YA novel, represents one of the most impressive examples of “world building” in recent years, surpassing such contenders as Valerian, Cloud Atlas, and even the recent Star Wars episodes.

Once Upon a Deadpool is as crass a cash-grab as one is likely to find, but at least the filmmakers/studio are upfront about their motivations.

Narratively, not a lot happens during the opening 60-70 minutes, but Cuaron is marinating us so that later events have an uncommonly strong impact.

The move is a blast.

Like Kore-eda’s previous masterpiece, "Like Father Like Son," the movie uses a domestic drama to illustrate larger and more compelling concerns about society in general.

One possible misstep along the way is Willem Dafoe’s narration – it’s too wordy for the material and doesn’t quite work. Still, that’s a minor quibble about an otherwise dead-on portrait of a lost soul who may never quite find herself but who makes an uneasy peace with what the world has made of her.

The result may peter out on the way to an anticlimactic conclusion but it’s fun while it lasts and at least one of the three peerless female leads should get some kind of Oscar recognition. (My bet is on Colman.)

Those wacky Coens are at it again. And those serious Coens. And those loquacious Coens. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, a paean to pre-revisionist Westerns, allows the Oscar-winning brothers to try out nearly every weapon in their considerable arsenal.

Green Book avoids sanctimoniousness in presenting this heartfelt, if sometimes familiar, story of mismatched strangers who learn to overlook boundaries of race, sexual orientation, and class as circumstances force them to rely on one another.

By playing things too safe, it loses the power and spontaneity that gave Creed its energy and drive.

It’s breezy and fun and, like its predecessor, relies more for its appeal on nostalgia and familiarity than a strong narrative thrust.