As for the movie itself, it’s not worth much ink. A kluge of bad science and worse science fiction clichés, it tries to be atmospheric and scary but succeeds only at being frustrating and tedious.

Although there are numerous problems with Fifty Shades Freed, the third and final installment of E.L. James’ trilogy, the fundamental one is also the most obvious: the lack of a compelling story.

Aside from being a showcase for up-and-coming action star Jason Momoa, it offers little else of note.

The promise of Before We Vanish’s early moments is never fully realized, however, as the movie plods and meanders through an overly-familiar narrative on its way to a half-baked and uneven conclusion.

If I knew definitively what the plural was for the term deus ex machina, I’d apply it here. Rarely can I remember a movie filled with so many miraculous rescues and associated contrivances.

It’s a small gem that deserves to be discovered.

Den of Thieves delivers an above-average cops-and-robbers heist film.

12 Strong represents a recent war as depicted on screen in an old-fashioned way.

Paddington 2 is a charming early-year offering and, although the main character is better known in the U.K. than the U.S., no cultural leap is required to fall in love with the bear and enjoy his adventures.

The Commuter falls into line with Neeson’s other high-octane, low-intelligence efforts and part of the reason it works (to the degree that it works) is because of the sincerity with which the actor attacks the part.

Although prone to occasional sermonizing, The Post offers a stirring reminder of the importance of these kinds of unsung heroes in protecting the American way of life.

There’s ample evidence that the producers (and writer/actor Leigh Whannell) are milking a familiar title for all it’s worth – of the four Insidious films, only one has been any good and, although The Last Key may not be the worst of them, it’s easily the most irrelevant and generic.

In true Sorkin style, the movie is all about the nonstop dialogue, which pours out at a mile-a-minute but, as a result of the way the words flow (not to mention the skill with which they are delivered), they function as momentum builders rather than verbal diarrhea.

When Getty isn’t on-screen, the movie is a bit of a bore and it doesn’t help that Mark Wahlberg is woefully miscast and the thriller elements are anything but tense or suspenseful.

Despite some great acting, Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool is a largely unpleasant viewing experience and the downbeat tone isn’t helped by a narrative that flits back and forth in time without rhyme or reason, sometimes confusing the viewer with the needlessly convoluted transitions from flashback to present (and vice versa).

Although there is a political element to this movie, however, it works on a primal level – that of a person struggling to find not only a path forward but some kind of meaning in an act that lacks reason, compassion, or sense.

Phantom Thread, Paul Thomas Anderson’s follow-up to 2014’s Inherent Vice, feels a little like a mash-up of Bergman and Hitchcock without the verve of the latter and the subtleties of the former.

The character arc of Paul Safranek (Matt Damon) lacks verve and, although some will appreciate the low-key denouement, the film as a whole exudes unfulfilled potential and the ending provokes little more than a shrug of the shoulders.

In style, if not substance, The Greatest Showman is reminiscent of the Disney film, "Newsies." Like the 1992 live-action musical, The Greatest Showman comes to life when the characters are singing or dancing but struggles through the sequences in between.

A tremendous improvement over the tepid 1995 original, this quasi-sequel brings humor, fun performances, and a canny understanding of late 1990s-style video games to a party that never takes itself seriously.

The movie, written for the screen and directed by Scott Cooper (who helmed Jeff Bridges’ Oscar-winning performance in "Crazy Heart"), is careful not to demonize anyone and make the path to redemption both slow and methodical.

The Last Jedi is a film of moments. There are perhaps a half-dozen of them: goose-pimple inducing, fist-pump encouraging, heart-racing bursts of cinematic satisfaction. The problem is that the narrative threads connecting them are lazily knitted and sometimes tangled or broken.

Wonder Wheel seems more like a cobbled-together afterthought than the romantic melodrama it seeks to be.

Call Me by Your Name, the latest film from Italian director Luca Guadagnino, is a study in mood and emotion. It’s about living in the moment and capturing that moment. It’s about using the canvas of film to convey to the audience the inner feelings of the characters. Call Me by Your Name is short on dialogue and long on emoting.

It’s hard to come away from this film and not believe that, in his heart, writer/director del Toro is a romantic.

Although the story is weirdly engaging in its own right, the best parts are the prologue and epilogue.

I, Tonya holds our interest by exposing the falseness and commercialism of Olympic-level skating competitions and illustrating how the perseverance shown by Tonya is perceived not as an asset but a character flaw. The film’s strength is that it does more than simply make us laugh.

Because Wonder wants to attract viewers of all ages and seeks to provide a “positive” experience, it glosses over the darker aspects that a story of this sort should address. In doing so, it at times feels dishonest and the Pollyanna-ish ending borders on cloying.