At times coming across like a fusion of Babe and The Thursday Murder Club, The Sheep Detectives gets by a lot on pure charm. The mystery is compelling enough to keep audiences guessing, while the central characters are engaging enough to follow as they find out more about George's death. The film doesn't quite overtake other entries in the cozy mystery genre, but the sweet morals and clever twists make this a worthwhile watch.

Cameron has said in interviews that sharing directorial credit was his idea, and he repeatedly shows us why. In one pre-show scene, the two of them map out where to place the cameras to best capture a particular part of the performance; in another, Eilish explains to camera what she's after with the show's song-specific color scheme. This concert is a work of art, and Eilish is its director – with this film, Cameron is less striving to create his own art than to capture Eilish's.

What enjoyment there is to draw from the action, which has its ups and downs, is tainted by the skepticism of this whole endeavor that's baked into the filmmaking. Even knowing better which direction they should go in, McQuoid & Co. remain frustratingly unwilling to commit to it. What they've made is tellingly at its best when making fun of itself.

Unfortunately for the streamer, their latest outing, Swapped, is not merely bound to be forgotten. It's also one of Netflix's worst animated movies yet."

Both the dramatizations and the interview segments of the film are artistically gorgeous, showing a remarkable grip on genre styles, from film noir to pastel-soaked satire and shadow-heavy psychological thrillers. With animation from April Kovacs and Brad Brown also deployed to tap into Werhun's love of literature, there's not a single frame of the film that doesn't immediately catch the eye.

Hokum is a refinement of what came before, not a rehash: a terrifically composed throwback that knows when to play things grounded and when to embrace the horror for its full potential.

In the moment, I thought it was very successful, and quite moving. In retrospect, however, the lens that we're forced to view the film through cheapens what we actually spent most of our time watching. Omaha can't really be seen the same way twice, but it's well worth it for that first viewing experience – and for John Magaro's performance, which will surely be some of the most quietly powerful work of the year.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is a well-constructed sequel that finds a healthy balance between nostalgia and forward momentum. It might not be as richly compelling as the first film, but there's still a lot to enjoy – especially when it turns inward.

Though it's an often beautiful showcase for the Arabian desert landscape, Desert Warrior is a slow, awkward jumble, trying so hard to be cool and lacking any of the style or charisma to pull it off. The climactic battle has some redeeming qualities, but after waiting 90 minutes to see it and finding it so choppily edited as to be distracting, the prevailing feeling I carried with me after it ended was still disappointment.

With thin character work and a familiar story surrounding it, the movie ultimately proves more disposable than enjoyable.

Blue Heron is the kind of movie that begs to be written about at length. For now, I'll have to be content with assuring you that this is one of the year's best movies. If it comes to a theater near you, don't miss it.

Some adaptations, it seems, are far less equal than others.

The finished product has more than justified the cost. From the casting to the costumes to the full-fledged concert performances, Michael lives up to the legendary status of its namesake.

For a film that clocks in at around only 90 minutes and doesn't tackle any one subject outright, Wasteman effortlessly makes you think about many issues.

Writer-director Lee Cronin holds onto the essential mythology while bringing in elements from a host of other influences, including the Evil Dead series, The Exorcist, and Hereditary, to try and shake up what mummies can be on screen. Discovering the true nature of this film's mummy, and what it's capable of, is part of the fun. The result isn't quite a 28 Days Later moment – one way to understand the film's full title is that this feels like one filmmaker's interpretation of a classic monster, rather than a new template for others to follow – but it's definitely the scariest a mummy movie has been in years.

While Lowery's film is ripe for interpretation, and will no doubt be better received by those who enjoy that style of filmmaking, those wanting actual answers will find frustratingly little satisfaction. Mother Mary is, at heart, more about vibes and style than anything else.

Despite having a decent budget and some recognizable actors to work with, writer-director Tommy Wirkola, known for Nazi zombie film Dead Snow and his Santa action film Violent Night, ensured what ended up on screen was a pretty fun B picture. It doesn't have the stylistic touch that can sometimes bring a little something extra to playful genre films, nor does it have a true standout sequence that could give it a chance at a longer cultural life. But it does have just the tone you'd hope it would, especially as it nears its climax, and that's all it really needs to deliver the goods.

Hill is willing to look critically at some of his industry's darkness, but he's also far too inclined to let his lead off the hook, and his film is weaker for it. As dark comedy, Outcome feels underbaked; as drama, it lacks sufficient introspection to have earned its emotional catharsis. Part of that is length: At under 90 minutes, the film is sometimes choppy and out of breath, and more time to flesh out its ideas might have helped it feel more tonally balanced. But no one change could fix a problem that's rooted in the vision for this material.

The movie asks a lot of its audience in terms of suspended disbelief, and while it occasionally handles its cheesier moments by poking fun at itself, there are times when cringe-worthy lines are delivered with absolute sincerity. Particularly early on, in fact, You, Me & Tuscany seems doomed to be yet another trope-y romcom that fails to set itself apart. What ultimately saves the movie is unquestionably its cast. Unsurprisingly, given their respective romance backgrounds, Bailey and Page are everything audiences want in romcom leads.

Not all movies need to be action-packed, and that was never Mermaid's goal, despite what its opening, horror-themed mermaid encounter might have led one to believe. However, for a film that sets out to take viewers into the mind of a broken man clinging to his last shot at change, Mermaid does not pack the emotional punch that is needed to hook the audience all the way through.

Margot knows the dangers of social media – her backstory has shades of cliché, but it's still effective in pushing her down the rabbit hole that her coworkers' superficiality precludes them from exploring. That investigation involves a string of missing persons and a killer obsessed with the dark corners of the internet. The biggest issue with Faces of Death, though, is that it's just not all that dark down there.

Pizza Movie is a refreshing delight. The simply titled Hulu comedy knows who its audience is, and it delivers plenty of gross-out gags for them to laugh at. But it also takes its genre's formula and infuses it with a real shot of originality that gives even non-stoner-comedy fans plenty to sink their teeth into.

In The Super Mario Galaxy Movie, as in the 2023 film, surprise character cameos, nonstop gags and action, and references to 40 years’ worth of games that fly across the screen at 100 mph take precedence over plot, character development, and pacing. However, if you’re ready to turn off your brain for a little under two hours and bask in the impressive animation and countless Easter eggs, there’s a lot of fun to be had in this sugar rush of a sequel.

As it tells a thrilling story, engineered with expert precision to keep you hanging on every turn, it embarks on a truly fascinating thought experiment about the nature of identity in relationships: who we are to other people, how easily that can change, and how disruptive it can be when it does. This film is rooted (to steal one of its laugh lines) in "double empathy," exploring when and why we condemn others without itself condemning any of its characters. It may be an entertaining conversation piece, but make no mistake, The Drama is also one of the best movies you'll see this year.

That's what makes Forbidden Fruits feel both timely and timeless. We rarely leave the inside of the mall, giving the film a claustrophobic feel. The girls use cell phones – it'd be strange if they didn't – but any recognizable social media are absent. It feels like a distinctly modern take on female friendship, but one that owes a great deal to the films that have come before it. And it's lost the sort of optimism that those films often came with.

It sits somewhere at the intersection of Quentin Tarantino and Sam Raimi, though without the former's control of form and the latter's splatstick comedic timing, it can't quite live up to the potential of that mashup. Still, it's plenty of fun. Zazie Beetz is the ideal badass heroine to carry this movie, and there are more than enough moments of stylish violence (and violent style) to get the whole theater cackling.

Sam somewhat shrinks into the periphery of the story to make way for Amanda Peet's Dianne, whose tonal world is welcome, but certainly different. Rather than hold things together, Shear the filmmaker seems to step back, too. The result is a film that only exists in moments: sometimes funny, sometimes interesting, always lacking the cohesion necessary to add up to anything.

Kontinental '25 is an acerbic film which makes you feel uncomfortable for chuckling your way through it, because by doing so you acknowledge an awkward sense of resonance with the guilty.

Director Vicky Jewson and her stunt team... properly make dance a large part of its central characters' fight sequences, which gives them a very different flavor. However, this only elevates the film so far beyond its fairly underwhelming script.

She Dances seems almost scared of its own premise.

It would be an understatement to say that Dead Lover is unusual. It may be more accurate to call it entirely novel.

As fun as the film is when it leans into its genre trappings, Touch Me wouldn't be anything without its small-but-superb cast. Olivia Taylor Dudley, largely underutilized beyond her time on The Magicians and with Onyx the Fortuitous and the Talisman of Souls, is transcendent as Joey, easily delivering a career-best performance.

The film may not always conquer its genre's tendency toward oversimplification, but what complexity makes it to the screen is enough to come away from it with something to chew on.

Sender is not the easiest watch. An anxiety-driven nightmare, Goldman's film doesn't just examine surveillance habits and the cycle of supply and demand, but our relationship to these things and the comfortable embrace of addiction. This is where Julia Day (Severance's Britt Lower) lives, and to help us understand what it's like to be inside her head, Goldman and editor Marco Rosas cut with dizzying alacrity, snapping space and time like a folded belt.

Ultimately, Over Your Dead Body is too messy for its own good. It is unable to settle into any one choice. The repeated motif of flashbacks and plot twists is fun, but not always useful in keeping the ball up.

Wheatley is such a strong technician that the film easily rises above its, well, normalcy, to become something much more distinct.

Einbinder, who is about to enter into the last season of Hacks, for which she has won an Emmy award, turns in a magnificently dialed-in, heart-forward and honest performance. Theroux has rarely been this funny and he somehow makes what could be a cartoonish character feel believable and sympathetic. Reynolds and Gluck equally bring forth gravitas to two roles which are tricky for any actor in that neither character is particularly open with who they are, nor where they want to go. And yet their lives feel written all over their faces. It's one of the best ensemble performances of the SXSW festival.

It's something of a disappointment that the film, as a whole, fails to live up to Byrne's great work in it. But it's certainly not a bad film.

From top to bottom, Brian just really works. It knows what game it's playing and does it with grounded honesty and the kind of blistering comedy that can only emanate from a truly genuine place.

This may well be Fanning's best performance to date, an intricately laced characterization of someone who is as filled with determination and dignity as she is by indecision. As Wendy, Fanning has a special way of presenting someone that can be both open and closed in equal measure: smiling through difficulty, forceful and righteous when angry, light and airy when experiencing joy.

With its molasses pacing and bland direction, this film is an absolutely forgettable dud.

The film boasts a twee quirkiness in style, but in its narrative, that promise never really comes to fruition. It is, in other words, a much more normal affair than what is promised. In spite of many genuine laughs, that just translates into a disappointing experience.

In between nonchalant murders, Beers, Bacon, and Sedgwick aim for grounded heart-to-heart conversations of a kind that don't exactly feel at home in the movie's otherwise topsy-turvy world. But being that this is a real family that has worked together for decades, their chemistry elevates the somewhat lackluster writing to deliver a pleasurable, if tame experience.

Power Ballad continues Carney's long run of success with yet another charmer. Of course, it's easy to charm when you have Paul Rudd as your center.

If Ready or Not was a chess match, Here I Come is tic-tac-toe.

Day's commanding performance as Jimmy is Kill Me's other greatest asset. For a good portion of the film, he taps into the comedic skills he's famous for, at times playing Jimmy like a more grounded take on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia's iconic Pepe Silvia scene. But when the film turns to Jimmy confronting his demons, Day really shines."

Thankfully, despite the movie feeling imbalanced in parts, One Another still proves to be a generally charming enough diversion.

It is, ultimately, a film completely uninterested in subtlety. That's both to its credit and to its detriment.

Infused with a sharp exploration of the immigrant experience in America and a smattering of such high school tropes as mean-girl cliques and prom queen competitions, the movie is a wonderfully bonkers ride.

Stephen Lang’s career has been defined by authoritarian roles, with physically grounded performances and command-heavy dialogue. It is surely surprising to see Avatar's fearsome Colonel Miles Quaritch be so vulnerable and tempered, with the spring in his step dampened by age. Even though this is not his first biographical role (he previously portrayed Stonewall Jackson in Gods and Generals), this is arguably his most restrained and moving performance.

Unfortunately, Reminders of Him isn't a very good film, at least in the traditional sense. But, like Regretting You, there's a certain level of lizard brain enjoyment that transcends much of the film's flaws and allows for all the soapy, melodramatic elements to be enjoyed at their own level.

Perhaps it's fitting that a horror film set around a podcast flits in and out of being engaging, since that's more or less the experience of listening to one, but it doesn't exactly make for a cohesive viewing experience.

Lord & Miller's film is a remarkable achievement.

Despite its outward sullenness, The Projectionist is so well observed in its smaller moments that it contains within it an unusual kind of hope.

This Is Not a Test suggests a filmmaker content to operate within the familiar confines of the horror genre rather than push beyond them.

To put it simply: it's just not very stimulating to watch two people who have a hard time talking... have a hard time talking. Stella and Gerry's love may be stuck in the wintry cold, but so is the film, utterly unable to be thawed.

It's rare that a film is this devoid of characterization, rarer still that a serial killer horror is this lacking in tension.

It's a deliriously perfect, laugh-a-second satire.

For all of its missteps, calling Dolly an outright bad movie still doesn't quite prove an accurate descriptor for Blackhurst's slasher thriller. It's got a solid cast of performers, occasionally stylish direction, and some shocking brutality, but can never quite find the right rhythm to bring it all together.

If Heated Rivalry could help with queer representation in sports, perhaps Youngblood could help crack the foundation of racism in hockey.

Every life is a universe unto itself, and Ricciardi was clearly the kind of unique soul whose spirit enriched everyone around him, but its actually in the margins of this sometimes preening doc that Benna's film really hits its target. When the film rests, it destigmatizes a process that everyone will eventually go through (albeit in a range of ways).

While it has a mix of fresh and familiar concepts, Protector ultimately still feels too routine to stand out from the crowd.

Thankfully, Boon, Graham, and Riseborough do enough to anchor the film and bring it home as it lands on a strangely poignant note both chilling and endearing.

It doesn't quite have the courage to be the best version of itself. Still, it works. War Machine is an action movie you feel in your body, and it mixes in the right dose of sci-fi VFX without losing sight of the character that keeps you caring.

Though various endings may differ in effective execution or feeling deserved by the closing credits of the two-hour film, some of which among the Shelby clan are guaranteed to be divisive, Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man is still an entertaining, action-filled, worthwhile return to the story for those who have been missing a recitation of “in the bleak midwinter” over the past several years.

Maggie Gyllenhaal's second feature is an explosive representation of social disruption. A screaming cry of a film, The Bride! utilizes its literary and filmic influences - Hamlet, Romeo & Juliet, Bartleby, Bonnie & Clyde - to belt a clarion call against upper-crust hedonism, police complicity, violence against women, and the patriarchal system that binds them all.

Daniel Chong's film isn't perfect, but it reaches such a strange fever pitch of hilarity and political prescience that it demands respect.

It reaches for the spiritual vastness of Cloud Atlas and the hushed introspection of Ad Astra, yet ultimately struggles to stir even the faintest flicker of emotion or hope.

The Napa Boys is best enjoyed like a California wine road trip: you can be vaguely aware of the territory, but it's more fun to just ride along its peaks and valleys. When the film hits, it really hits.

It's a beautiful film that entertains in as much measure as it deconstructs an often untouchable icon, making him seem more human, and thus, more impressive.

Scream 7 injects nostalgia and self-referentiality like a weak drug, a stash of weed purchased so long ago it has gone so stale it crumbles to the touch.

Despite a series of beautiful gowns worn by Chastain, the film doesn't offer much intrigue nor sociopolitical interest, instead reducing itself to the lowest common denominator by the time it reaches its exceedingly cruel ending.

Ghost Elephants is an almost diaristic documentary, eschewing normal pathways for a more esoteric exploration of survival, science, intuition and mortality.

Sykes brings what she can to the proceedings, but there's only so much she can do to make Undercard even slightly distinctive.

The Bluff is a rollicking throwback to the swashbuckling action of old. It is brutal and inventive enough to wash over its derivative narrative.

A surprisingly bland film that somehow manages to dampen even Glen Powell's usual brand of effortless charm, How to Make a Killing is sketched together with thin characterizations, limp commentary and a sluggish pace.

Sometimes the central metaphors of the film are so cleanly didactic they risk becoming preachy, but, more often than not, the film tilts in such inventive ways that recognition only breeds appreciation.

The creepy imagery in the first act improperly sells just how dull the movie ultimately ends up being for the majority of its overlong runtime, and while its snail-like pacing and lackluster acting fail to make its psychological themes land with anything more than a mute thud.

It's to the actors' credit that it works when it does, and what it ultimately posits about marriage is as grossly haunting as it is disturbingly poetic.

Despite having some really good parts driving it forward, it's unfortunate that The Mortuary Assistant never quite finds its rhythm.

Lang really goes for it here, and he sells the material as best as he can, but suffice it to say that Hellfire is only as entertaining as your bandwidth for bog-standard action fare.

A piercing, explicit, and oftentimes sexy study of one 25-year-old's search for identity in a world that has discouraged him from accepting all of himself unabashedly.

This is a purposefully languid movie that proves real, genuine tension can be built without crash landing right on your head. In an era of fast cuts and escalating explosions — the kind that Hemsworth, Ruffalo and Halle Berry all know intimately from their time in Marvel's universe — it is refreshing to watch something this confident in its own particular DNA.

What they cannot ignore is that the film is otherwise still lacking. For all the epithets one could throw out about Wuthering Heights, the most surprising may be that it is an abject snooze, and that its nonchalance about color-specific casting reveals a filmmaker completely insensitive to the implications of race in the late 18th century.

It's an underdog story — sorry, under-goat story — for a new generation that is ready for a new, more inclusive kind of game.

It grows tedious because it feels like we’re holding our breath waiting for something more significant to happen for the lead’s character development, and yet it remains largely stagnant. Exit 8 has so much squandered potential. It might have made for a better short film than a full feature, but as a psychological horror, the film falls flat.

The only thing Harlin has done here is to remove the element of surprise. Without that, the film is nothing, nothing at all.

What's most fascinating about The Friend's House is Here is that it makes its protest heard through a story that remains adamantly vivacious for nearly its entire runtime.

If American Pachuco leaves you wanting more, perhaps that's not a bad thing; Valdez deserves the last word, anyway, and he's not finished.

Its approach is so diffuse that its uncertain and purposefully ambiguous ending is misguided at best.

Brought to life by yet another astounding performance by Olivia Colman and exquisitely shot and designed, Wicker's treasure is in its hopeless romanticism that insists that pure love and adamant individuality can create irrevocable progress through osmosis.

It's a standard-bearer film, a real fastball down the middle, which hits all of its assumed itinerant emotional beats right on target, without ever really challenging us in any major way.

A soft and gentle hug of a film, one that reifies life's most sacred values while retaining the essential mystery behind our most pressing questions.

A clarion call from across space and time, like a message in a bottle, its very existence is a wild gift.

The Gallerist is a tepid satire. Even calling it such feels generous, as the film is almost entirely devoid of genuine humor.

An essential doc that reveals the origins of her singular voice with exceeding warmth and vulnerability.

A true rarity, Send Help feels fresh and unique — so much, in fact, it’s hard to decide whether you want Raimi (or anybody else, for that matter) to make more movies like it, or let it alone, thriving on a far-off island where no one can compromise its singular, idiosyncratic perfection.

Candy-colored and ebullient, I Want Your Sex is not a bad film, but its hard to think of it positively when we know just how much more effective Araki has been behind the camera. The film is just never sure of what it is.