There are snapshots of something greater here; hints of a grander mystery, a bigger twist, a better climax. Alas, we can only ponder, weak and weary, over what that better film could have been.

This is just another run-of-the-mill, dramatically limp music biopic meant to be pure brand management. There are so many scenes of Naomi Ackie lip-synching full performances of these songs, and all you can say is, "Yeah, Whitney Houston was such a great singer." I don't need this movie to know that. I can just stay home and listen to her, which is an infinitely more rewarding experience.

One can't help but note the irony of a film about the pivot from the silent era to the talkies having such a loud, booming start but ending with a muffled thud.

The film occasionally has trouble balancing the two subjects, with the more personal side of the doc occasionally getting lost in the archival clips and photos of the Hollywood fervor Spaz stirred up with his innovations. But it's still fascinating, insightful, and certainly entertaining.

Avatar: The Way of Water overstays its welcome but it sure is thrilling when it wants to be.

Like in her previous works, director Hansen-Løve has a gentleness when painting the portrait of women living and enduring in transitions, often exiting the bubble of a relationship or (re)entering.

It wastes the potential silver screen magic you could have by casting Hawke and McGregor as once-close brothers who are forced together by a death that they both have difficulty grieving.

There's something near-magical about the strands of multicolored lights that occupy nearly every frame of the film, offering a winter wonderland contrast to all the carnage. 

While its premise is fairly run-of-the-mill for a teen flick, its underlying messaging and approach to a taboo subject matter elevates the material into a uniquely moving film fit for ages pre-teen and up. Darby and the Dead feels made by people who have gone through a hard loss: It's a love letter to those grieving, reminding us not to forget to celebrate life too. 

The movie unexpectedly has a ton of heart that's guaranteed to refuel your Christmas spirit this year.

This is the hilarious hidden gem of the holidays, and it's better than any of the other new releases trying to hit that Christmas sweet spot this season.

Nothing short of a true-life triumph, All The Beauty and the Bloodshed is all at once the most important film about addicts, outcasts, and what makes each one—no matter their "sin" or the stigma—family. There is an understanding at the core of this documentary, one that says to the addicts and the ostracized alike, "I see you. I know you. I will not turn my back on you." The message is welcomed; In fact, it sounds like a new hymn.

Though Strange World has no meme-worthy songs like "Encanto," its imagery is singular and unforgettable, and its adventurous spirit is genuine and thrilling. This is the kind of thing Disney should make more often.

It's a delightful surprise that the Disney+ sequel, Disenchanted, in spite of having a thudder of a title, is a moderately charming affair bolstered, per usual, by a phenomenal lead performance from one of our best living actresses.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard A Christmas Story Christmas tries to replicate what audiences loved about the original, it can't help but feel overshadowed by the legacy of nostalgia that the 1983 classic inspires.

Joyland is a wonderful film about longing and desire with a melancholy undertone that you just don't expect.

No one ever captured the hearts and minds of children without taking some big swings. Francis Lawrence doesn't make incompetent movies, but his work rarely feels inspired. "Slumberland" is no different. Uninspired. And when your film is about dreams, uninspired is the last thing you want to be.

From a filmmaking standpoint alone, "Nothing Lasts Forever" is one of the more memorable recent documentaries. But it helps that the narrative being told is so fascinating, scooping us up into this globe-trotting world where money talks and everyone — and every diamond — has a story, true or otherwise.

A movie like Elf, as its opening credits suggest, seemingly sprung to life out of a children's book. Spirited evokes the sense that it sprung to life out of a series of focus-group sessions among corporate executives.

All Jacked Up and Full of Worms is a movie that clearly doesn't care if it's enjoyed by the majority of viewers. While that is commendable to a certain degree, it shouldn't come at the cost of an undercooked and wasted narrative.

And underneath it all is a beating heart; a tribute to both Boseman's loss and legacy. The emotional punch is more impactful than the physical one here, and whatever the flaws of "Wakanda Forever," its emotional heft is strong — and honest. There's no sense of manipulation here, only a sense of grief coupled with acceptance. What else can there be?

Deadwyler is simply a revelation in the role, her alternately fragile, fiery, and steely performance carrying "Till" through some of its biggest lulls.

Watching Lawrence and Henry act off each other is what really makes "Causeway" worth watching.

Even for those who aren't quite warm to the art style of "One Piece" (ie, yours truly), the film pummels you with so much color, so much style, so much Looney Tunes-style madness, that you can't help but be a little impressed.

Between strong character work, adept mystery writing, amusingly tongue-in-cheek fourth-wall breaks which broadly work, and swift action sequences, Enola Holmes 2 is by and large a welcome and engaging mystery experience.

An amorphous film that flashes the middle finger to conventionality from its launch, Coma blossoms into a metaphorical and allegorical Rorschach test.

The style, tone, and characters will be familiar to you, but there will be a richness that might not be there otherwise. Then again, Hong Sang-soo is a keen observer of humanity and a skilled enough filmmaker that it probably works terrifically on its own.

You might argue there's no redeeming value to any of this, and I won't fight you on that. And yet, the "everything and the kitchen sink" vibe of the whole thing renders Terrifier 2 an above-average slasher extravaganza. Watching this gives one the sense that they're watching something new, and that's a feeling you just can't beat. Whatever bloody adventure Art the Clown gets up to next, I'll be sure to watch.

While it does occasionally feel a little too one-note and repetitive, even in its brief runtime, a host of wonderful performances, meticulous set detailings, and expertly claustrophobic cinematography make Peter Von Kant worthwhile.

Run Sweetheart Run is a passionate Los Angeles marathon that severs heads, scolds abusive norms, and gets loud about the ways society needs to reflect upon bettering itself. Shana Feste finds action-packed elegance in rage and reflection, borrowing from fast-moving midnight flicks that aren't afraid to challenge oppressive stigmas.

My Policeman is a pretty flat adaptation as far as adaptations go, and despite some great elements in the film overall, Grandage's theatrical flair and passion doesn't show up anywhere in this movie, giving the picture an almost cookie-cutter feel to it in a way that comes off as strangely commercial.

The search for one's identity is never an easy one. "Return to Seoul" understands that, and allows us to live in — and finally, accept — that uncertainty.

Satan's Slaves: Communion delivers another artfully accomplished and wickedly malevolent slice of Indonesian horror that returns to formula basics without sacrificing Anwar's trademarks. Maybe a bit too ambitious with its storytelling. But still righteously right-on in terms of razor-toothed horror execution.

The Pez Outlaw ends up being so quick, breezy, and fun, that it ultimately does its job and, unlike the chalky sweet Pez candy, never leaves a bad taste in our mouths.

Featuring great performances from its two incredibly bearded leading men, and bosting a twist that offers something truly unique to the true crime genre, The Stranger takes loose inspiration from a true story to deliver a bleak yet subdued thriller. Sadly, the film banks everything on this reveal, which recontextualizes everything that came before but deflates all the tension.

George Clooney and Julia Roberts remain two of the best, most charismatic movie stars to ever grace the silver screen, and we're fortunate to have cinematic proof of their heat and chemistry. Ticket to Paradise just isn't that proof. It's OK. But it should've been better.

If the entire function of "Black Adam" is to set up a fight between Adam and Superman, as Johnson has said in public, perhaps skip a "Black Adam" movie and make only a 50-minute-long fight sequence. "Black Adam" is so hard to watch, it might make us want to skip the pretense that these are meant to be real movies.

"Brainwashed" isn't so much of a shocking revelation as it is an eye-opening wake-up call to be more thoughtful about how women are depicted in film and how that translates into our everyday lives.

She Said is not as economical in its filmmaking as "Spotlight" nor as robust as "Shattered Glass." Instead, as a journalism movie, it just feels rote. As a biographical drama, it feels too early. And as a Me Too movie, it feels too quiet.

Halloween Ends settles the series' score, but it does so in a way that lacks a central logic and that spends an inordinate amount of time on things that fail to matter.

Between the charming hand-drawn aesthetic, the imaginative setting, and the myth-like narrative structure, it has that rare quality of being truly timeless; this is a film that could have come out forty years ago, and will feel as relevant generations from now as it does today. 

The romantic comedy is painfully self-aware but rarely clever, instead falling back on rom-com tropes that were creaky back in the modern Shakespeare adaptation heyday of the '90s.

Sadly, some only listen when the quiet part is said out loud — Sissy blares its concerns and horrors like neon demons in front of the brightest ring lights.

With lush, fun cinematography, creative staging, and some true powerhouse music and dance numbers, the strengths of "Matilda" more than make up for its weaknesses. Here's to the children of the revolution.

It's in favor of observing an artist, busy with her projects and her family life, like slowly sipping a warm cup of tea. In doing so, it strikes a — not quite steady but a work-in-progress — equilibrium of the personal life and the artistic priorities.

Amsterdam indeed has a number of charming scenes, a stunningly top-tier cast, and flawless cinematography. At the same time, it also fails to balance its wildly fluctuating tones, it rests its central narrative on plot contrivances, and the sum total of these shortcomings impedes the ability of its excellent performers to land the film. As a whole, Amsterdam is a movie that finds itself decidedly less than the sum of its parts.

It's a type of slow-burn, psychological horror. The type of thrills and chills that don't register at first, but come creeping back when you're in bed, awake at night, unable to sleep, and the darkness starts to creep in.

Bright, colorful, and truly nuts, this movie is a breath of fresh air for those who are a little over the sameness of American blockbuster filmmaking.

Hellraiser was in bad shape, and what Bruckner has done here is lift the series out of the gutter to give it a touch of old-school charm. But I know he can do better, and I just wish this revival was more of an icky, gooey success rather than a moderately okay horror pic.

When there is no actual conflict, the film's already low stakes start to feel meaningless, and the characters' bumbling hijinks around town start to feel tiresome. Conflict is necessary to inject urgency into a film, and as a result, Hocus Pocus 2 starts to really flag halfway through, once the shine of nostalgia starts to fade and Midler, Parker, and Najimy start to run out of musical numbers to perform.

What a baffling, misguided film.

Once you overlook the commercialism of it all, this premise is fine, and has potential. But writer Billie Bates and director David Poag fail to explore it to its full potential.

There's real skill and artistry smiling out at us here. Too bad it's buried under so many secondhand scenarios.

Full of loud, shrieking, hateful characters and shaky camera work designed to hide anything interesting, only extremely hardcore fans of the series should apply for V/H/S/99. I couldn't even find one story to grasp onto here, and that's a problem.

Alternating between exuberant and exhilarating, heart-warming and horrific, "The Swimmers" is an ambitious picture that tells an almost unbelievable tale of struggle, perseverance, and triumph.

Even if Master Gardener can feel like a bit of a potboiler moral drama, the heat generated is proof that Schrader can still bring the fire. The filmmaker grapples thornily and thoughtfully with difficult issues and destructive people, finding new ways to approach the questions that still haunt him.

Goodnight Mommy isn't a downright horrible movie, but it certainly won't stick with you. Well, maybe the ending will, but that's not a good thing.

J.D. Dillard's Sweetheart is fierce aquatic horror without any frills.

Devotion is far more interested in what's happening on earth rather than in the sky. It's a character drama with occasional bursts of action, and while there's certainly nothing wrong with that, the film ends up rather muddled. You can see the bones of something greater here, and Dillard remains a filmmaker worth paying attention to.

Butcher's Crossing makes a lot of little, stretching its small budget to the extreme to create a nightmarish saga of violent men who seem convinced of their own superiority over everything, especially the land.

Rather than portray its characters as glorious heroes bravely fighting for their country, or even ending the film on an optimistic note, "All Quiet on the Western Front" is tragic from beginning to end, and is relentlessly, almost unbearably, bleak. That's the point. It's the ultimate anti-war war film.

Moments of levity and joy twinkle throughout the crackling, tense narrative, endearing the characters to us viewers. It's a fierce message against the oppressors, unapologetically feminist in reckoning against the patriarchy.

The Good Nurse is strangely flat.

Wendell & Wild is a triumph — in terms of animation, of representation, and of being very, very fun to watch.

This is one of those movies where the soundtrack is far and wide the best element. 

Sadly, as creative as The Silent Twins is, and as much homework as the filmmakers clearly did in replicating the details of the story and the works of the twins, the film never fully says anything meaningful. Not about the real Gibbons sisters, not about race, not about mental health and its treatment in the U.K.

With its deliberate (or sloowwwwwww, as some might call it) pacing and inherent lack of action, The Eternal Daughter might frustrate some looking for a more traditional ghost story. But The Eternal Daughter is plenty haunting. The ghosts here aren't the traditional specters returned from the grave. They're the type of ghosts that haunt us all — memories, both good and bad.

Confess, Fletch, based on Mcdonald's second novel in the series, entirely misjudges the comedic appeal of its predecessor, transforming a setup of one sardonic man at the center of a hardboiled mystery into a barrage of eccentricities and bits that just sit dead on the screen.

The set-up is sound, and the film is gloriously twisted. But The Menu also lags — once we're clued into what's happening, some of the fun is gone.

With The Fabelmans, Spielberg is grappling with his own mythology, and re-examining it, too. This isn't exactly how Spielberg's life unfolded; it's the Hollywood version, and that's fitting. 

The joys of "Glass Onion" involve the plot twists and shocking-but-hilarious revelations Johnson keeps throwing at us at breakneck speed. Every scene is loaded with lightning-sharp wit coupled with a genuinely engrossing mystery. Like Blanc, we're hooked on the idea of solving this mystery.

Pope's performance is so raw, so honest, that we're with him every step of the way.

There are more than a few moments in The Woman King that will have you fist-pumping and grinning like a goofball, amazed at energy of it all. And all that action is often aided by raw, real emotion which is handled deftly.

What follows is an unconventional love story that — although is diverts from and subverts many of the tropes we've grown accustomed to in the genre — feels honest and real for anyone with experience in LGBTQ+ spaces.  

All of this unfolds at a rather brisk pace, but sooner or later, "Weird" starts to run dry. While the film is consistently funny — I laughed out loud, and I mean really loud, on more than one occasion — the narrative begins to drag, giving one the sense that Appel was right to make this a short film first, and that maybe, just maybe, it should've stayed that way.

As a whole, House of Darkness is a very mixed bag of a film. The script shifts from nuanced to blunt depending on what minute you're watching, but the central performances add a layer of complexity that's often worth watching.

The Harbinger is observant, relatable, scare-ya-silly horror. Andy Mitton uses ominous imagery, sorrowful atmospheres, reliable templates, and resonating paranoias to so effortlessly hit upon those feelings we all felt under lockdown: insignificance, loneliness, and worst of all, our social disappearance.

De Armas' dazzling screen presence is inarguable. But with a disjointed directorial eye and a messy script, de Armas is simply doing the best she can within the chaotic world of Monroe's life, but also the chaotic world the film itself forces her to be a part of.

Clerks III is the director at his most mature and emotionally resonant.

One of the best things I can say about the movie is that it likely won't be one that your child will want to watch over and over, which means you won't have to, either.

Barbarian ends up being a masterclass in tension and unpredictability. It is scary without leaning too hard on tropes, making for a truly entertaining film. It is a damn good-looking movie anchored by great performances all around.

Is it exceptionally groundbreaking? No. But it's fun, and frothy, and clever enough that it makes for an easygoing hour and a half watch.

Pearl is an ambitious and bold work of horror that calls into question what it means to deserve love and the bad things we sometimes do to receive it.

Within The Banshees of Inisherin, McDonagh manages to capture both the elemental resonance of folklore with the sophisticated weightiness of classic stage drama. This tragicomic tale nimbly balances both the personal and political dimensions of his richly developed characters and scenarios.

Don't Worry Darling wants to be a transhumanist "Truman Show," but ends up playing out more like a mostly okay episode of "Black Mirror." In fact, Don't Worry Darling recycles a bunch of ideas and imagery from other films, which it attempts to imbue with a fresh, new sociopolitical angle. But it can't overcome its rather simplistic story and a disappointing reveal that ultimately doesn't match up to its build-up.

The Whale" stays too intellectual in its exploration of the physical and spiritual dimensions of redemption to and from bodily captivity. This comes at the expense of the director's strengths in the visceral realm. It restricts what could have been a truly great comeback performance from Brendan Fraser into being merely a good one.

The romance is a soaring spectacle to witness unfold, but it becomes a Trojan horse to explore notions of how and where people find validation. The film's embrace of two lovers does not close ranks around them, instead opening its arms to welcome anyone who has ever felt like a disowned outcast.

Although Who Invited Them doesn't deliver anything new to horror, it entertainingly plays with the idea of, "What will it take this married couple to realize their relationship needs work?"

It's one story that provides a mere snapshot of a larger problem in the U.S. — but it's a very detailed picture, and one that humanizes the people behind the addictions.

Whether talking to himself or talking at his audience as if delivering wisdom deserving of an inscription on stone tablets, Iñárritu has nothing new or interesting to say. He's established he can move a camera with astonishing fluidity as well as blur fantasy and reality seamlessly. Now what? "Bardo" is a film high on its own supply yet low on any sense of actual intrigue or intuition.

While occasionally frustrating to watch the film spin its wheels into repetitive or monotonous territory, the magnetic pull of simply watching Blanchett hold court on-screen is undeniable.

While 136 minutes is a bit lengthy, even for this story — White Noise drags in parts, but again, so does life — the movie's electric, eccentric, and delightfully hilarious dynamic keeps you engrossed enough to make it to the end and finish out their story.

I want to see more from Jessica M. Thompson, who has an eye for atmospheric creepiness that would be better served with stronger material. And I want Nathalie Emmanuel to land a lead role worthy of her talents. As for The Invitation, there's not much to sink your fangs into.

Again and again, the bleak truth is driven home: this is the society America built. One where helpful solutions are ignored as unrealistic, and violent action reigns supreme. Riotsville is a dream; a nightmare. It's a movie backlot that doubles as a boot stomping on anyone who dares to dissent.

Those who remember a time when afternoons were spent pumping quarters into Street Fighter II and fantasizing about Sylvester Stallone beating up your bullies, will no doubt feel a surge of nostalgia — and a healthy dose of dopamine — watching Samaritan.

Beast is no great shakes, but it's also a rare enough summer movie, in that it knows its limits, it delivers on its specific promises, and it doesn't belabor the point.