Deep Water has its pleasures, some of which are of the inexplicably daffy variety . . . And when you compare Deep Water to ... well, just about every other movie available right now, either in theaters or streaming, it really does feel like a singular sensation.

Linoleum is much more than meets the eye, and as the film wades into its final 15 minutes or so, you'll find yourself overwhelmed by an emotional revelation that not only clears up any lingering fog from the story's puzzling evolution but really pulls at the heartstrings with a wonderfully woven tapestry of life and love. 

There's a big beating heart at the center of the movie that keeps you close to the ground and makes it an absolute triumph of twisted humor and love.

Ti West is back with a violent vengeance, slicing and dicing through likable characters that light up the screen throughout their doomed and debaucherous overnight shoot. West is operating on another level — even the slightest editing cut cranks fear factors another notch higher.

This is a hard film to dislike. Cage brings what you'd expect, Pascal brings even more, and their awkward, adorable, genuine kinship represents how so many of us feel about Cage these days.

It's easy to imagine this becoming a favorite movie for curious, creative kids and their cineaste parents — a cute, sweet, funny, imaginative tale dressed up like reality, an ode to survivors and the power of community.

It's impossible to describe. It's unlike anything you've ever seen. It's the best American movie in years, and certainly the best movie to hit theaters since the pandemic began.

Not only are "Free Guy" director Shawn Levy and star Ryan Reynolds reuniting to send characters back in time to save the world, but the movie itself is like a time machine, transporting you back to a period in your life when a trip to the movie theater or the video store was your ticket to a world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.

It's rough around the edges when heavy special effects are required, yet proficient in shanty-shady tones and detectable darkness that hides secrets from one sequence to the next. It's an experience that lulls you in with hospitality and scored choral chants, plunging its stinger once you've become helpless beyond defense.

Turning Red" is another Pixar homerun, a low-stakes adventure turned high-stakes thanks to its heightened emotions and envelope-pushing animation style. It's loud and unapologetic, and while that frenzy of stuff can sometimes turn frantic, it's one of the most accurate cinematic depictions of what it was like to be a hormonal teenage girl.

It gets lost while trying to offend, and then comes to an abrupt end when it seems like the Guit brothers ran out of ideas. But maybe that's for the best.

If you're looking for a feel-bad movie with some absolutely stunning cinematography and an appreciation for the tenacity of the human spirit, then Against the Ice was made for you. 

Do we really need yet another "Batman" reboot? The answer, after watching Matt Reeves' tremendous The Batman, is apparently a resounding yes.

While competently performed — Liu in particular is exceptional, lending a fraught likability to Darby; Haysbert exudes a natural warmth; and Dickey gives a good frayed performance despite a disappointing characterization — and decently directed, it feels like there's something missing from No Exit.

It is all at once a gleefully raucous rock romp and a freaky horror story of possession and gruesome murder.

This is a movie that very much wants to call back to the original — and in doing so, it inadvertently reminds us of how much better the original was, and how bad this is.

Dog is a little sentimental and travels down well-trodden paths, but its gorgeous execution and charming performances make it the feel-good film we could all use in the depressing doldrums of February.

Uncharted has fun moments . . . but its overreliance on unfunny quips and uninspired retreads of the action-adventure genre makes it another disappointing non-MCU outing for Holland, and another spiritless adaptation of a beloved video game.

Marry Me feels like a satirical movie that missed the joke. It doesn't have a plot as much as a collection of rom-com tropes — Fake marriage! Reverse "Notting Hill"! Evil exes! School mathalons? — and is strung together by the whisper of a narrative structure. But while "Marry Me" is silly, poorly made, and inarguably a bad movie, I had dumb fun.

The plot grows more elaborate and fantastical, but the film itself has its feet firmly on the ground, and Soderbergh seems solely committed to giving us a quick, mid-budget, ultra-sturdy thriller with no pretensions — the type Hollywood doesn't really make anymore.

It's hard to know whether the challenges of making a rough-and-tumble action movie with Liam Neeson at the helm now stem from age or from making a movie like this during the pandemic. Whatever the explanation is, the result is that Blacklight is a bland way to pass 100 minutes.

An aggressively misguided, strangely dour affair that starts off bad and only gets worse.

Let's get real: no one sits down to watch Moonfall for the performances. They want to see destruction, and on that front, Emmerich delivers.

Jackass Forever is as bluntly, dementedly, brilliantly funny and horrific, and unforgettable as any of its predecessors or the TV series that started it all. If you are a fan of anything or anyone even tangentially related to Jackass Forever, you can rest assured that you know what you're getting.

Armed with mythology and its evocative atmosphere, Nikyatu Jusu's directorial debut revels in slow-simmering horror, haunting with its shadows.

Bahrani's doc moves at a steady pace, but it also runs through bullet points rather than taking a deeper dive into Richard and his life.

A gripping snapshot of crimes in progress and an engrossing piece of cinematic activism, The Territory is a testament to the importance of being able to preserve your own history and tell your own story, as well as a call to action for the world to notice what's happening in the Amazon ... before it's too late.

At a certain point, Navalny kicks into spy movie mode, detailing how that "Bulgarian nerd" utilizes data acquired from the dark web to pore over phone records and flight manifests to narrow down a possible list of suspects. It's riveting stuff.

The overall experience is chilling to the extreme. The type of chill that seeps its way into your bones and leaves you unprotected and unbalanced.

It's a handsomely constructed, often addictive documentary – but it's also repeating the same story we've been told again and again.

At times, "Nothing Compares" can feel like hagiography. It's all a little too slight — so much of O'Connor's life is left out, and the entire thing feels a little bit like the CliffsNotes version of the story. And yet, you also get the sense that if anyone deserves such lionized treatment, it's O'Connor.

Amy Poehler relies heavily on this intimate collection of media, provided with the full support of both the Arnaz and Luckinbell families, and honestly, it's the most fascinating way to tell their story. It adds the kind of intimacy and personal touch that fans hope to see from a documentary like this.

Three Minutes – A Lengthening is not a ghost story, but it still feels haunting.

The problem is that You Won't Be Alone is a film about identity that doesn't have an identity of its own. It is far too indebted to other films.

It's all appropriately eerie and off-putting, but never quite as satisfying as it should be. Watching Watcher isn't a complete disappointment, but it sure would be nice if there was just a little more to look at.

Once again, Benson and Moorhead prove that they can produce a stellar, original film with a tiny fraction of the budget of bigger Hollywood filmmakers. The movie landscape is a far better, weird, and beautiful place with them in it.

While it doesn't break any new ground in the horror space or do anything super mind-blowing from a narrative perspective, Hatching is a successful (if somewhat flat) exploration of that transitional period in one's life when an earlier version of yourself dies and a new version stands in its place.

God's Country" is a headier exploration of how impossible it can feel when trying to enact change in institutions, and how, when systems are rigged against the same people they're ostensibly set up to support, the empty hopelessness of that realization can lead to devastating outcomes.

Plaza's performance, which grows more desperate and more fierce, is what keeps things going. Tension continually mounts and builds, and writer-director Ford stages several anxiety-ridden set-pieces that inspire a sick-to-your-stomach feeling.

A lovingly crafted ode to female friendship and the idea that it's never too late to embrace your true self.

Palmer's performance, disjointed though it may be because of the script, is solid in each individual time period, and though the movie speeds too quickly across the finish line after taking way too long to get revved up, its metaphors and parallels to the struggles of today are effectively drawn.

While the story at the center of 892 is undeniably compelling, the film has trouble keeping the engine running beyond the natural tension that comes from holding up a bank. If it wasn't for Boyega and Beharie's performances, this probably would have been a letdown. But thankfully, the movie still packs a powerful punch.

The film is so laser-focused on Joy there's often no room for anything, or anyone else. But I hope "Call Jane" finds a wide audience, and if the film's somewhat sanitized portrayal of events helps change a few minds in regards to the issues at hand, that will be a net good.

Good Luck to You, Leo Grande is a spellbinding piece of filmmaking, an acting masterclass, a celebration of the written word, and a powerful cinematic plea for self-acceptance and self-love.

Even if its archetypes might feel overly familiar, the formula works for a reason, and when anything is executed with such pure-hearted joy and affection for its characters, you can't help but smile.

Ruthless, deeply cynical, and thrumming with jet-black humor, Dual is a Riley Stearns movie through and through.

Fresh is shameless and hilariously audacious, anticipating critique even when it can't quite offer a response. But the film happily rolls with the punches, so self-assured that you're hard-pressed to let the flaws win out. Because even if its commentary won't linger, the experience of "Fresh" is something to savor.

Nighy brings a dignity to the proceedings that you can't help but admire, especially when it comes to Williams' sudden self-awareness in his final days, and that helps keep your attention.

Kogonada’s precision, akin to the blend we witness the master tea maker assembling, prodding gently with a wooden utensil to craft a perfect mix of ingredients, results in a heady brew that’s both intoxicating and delicious.

A Love Song is rough around the edges, but between its gorgeously crafted world and Dickey's ability to ground the film with a single expression, the flaws fade away when the finer elements sing together in harmony.

Fire of Love is a riveting portrait of a charismatic couple who lived life on the edge.

Awkwardness ends up being the name of the game here, with Eisenberg constructing an intentional cringefest; the type of movie that has you squirming uncomfortably as you're forced to watch oblivious characters make total asses of themselves.

The result is a chaotic, surprisingly funny, and intense night gone wrong that masterfully balances comedy, drama, and suspense. 

It's a nifty, quick-witted slasher pic, and at this point in this particular franchise, that's more than enough.

If there is anything new to this film, it's the sense that the series is self-aware enough to understand that it's time to wrap up.

Without the pandemic, everything here would seem a tad fantastical. Now, we can't help but draw sometimes painful connections. Perhaps it'll hit too close to home. After all, the film makes it clear that there's only so long a person can remain trapped before they start getting desperate.

In Asghar Farhadi's fascinating, complex A Hero, nothing is simple. And no good deed goes unpunished — if it was even a "good deed" to begin with.

The 355 is the cinematic equivalent of Hydrox. It's a bland and generic retread of something that's well-liked, if not beloved, something that feels vaguely like the real thing.

Sing 2 feels like a relic from another era. And oddly, a relic that really wants to sell you on U2 songs.

It would've been incredibly simple to give us a traditional "Matrix 4."  Instead, The Matrix Resurrections takes its big-budget and runs wild with it. And while there are more than a few stumbles here, any modern-day blockbuster that's this unafraid to subvert expectations is worth celebrating.

In the end, Affleck is the film's only real draw. His funny, uncouth, working-class schlub performance breathes much-needed oxygen into the film's lungs, but at the end of the day, this isn't his story, and it really should've been.

As charismatic as its stars are, and as refreshing as its period setting is, the wildly inconsistent tone and overstuffed runtime loses whatever was left of the shine of the first "Kingsman."

If you poke too many holes in the narrative, Spider-Man: No Way Home starts to become undone. But if you take it at face value, it's a sweet, moving swing of a "Spider-Man" film that (mostly) manages to land.

I Was a Simple Man is a slow-burning walk toward the light, a paean for life, and the land and people that shaped it. It's the kind of love letter that only a lifelong resident of Hawaii like Yogi could make, to a resilient land whose scars will take long to heal.

Worst of all, these final moments of the film make it abundantly clear that as a storyteller and a filmmaker, McKay has absolutely nothing to say about the topics he's skewering, and he shouldn't have even bothered to try. This is a hollow waste of time and talent; a comedy whose idea of humor is simply pointing a finger at something and chuckling obnoxiously. We, as a society, don't just deserve better leaders. We deserve better satire, too.

A better director would have improved its flaws, or maybe pushed Sorkin to go through some of the elements and refashion them. "Being the Ricardos" needed a different voice; the one here profoundly, obstinately refuses to grasp the inner workings of the comic mind.

A wickedly enjoyable tale of freak shows, dark and stormy nights, innocent dames, morally bankrupt schemers, and a femme fatale to die for.

Spielberg's West Side Story is a knock-out. A dynamite blend of old-school musical showmanship and modern sensibilities. It's one of the best movies of the year, and one of the best movies of the acclaimed filmmaker's career. Yes, really.

Whatever the flaws of the previous "Resident Evil" series, those films were never as dull as "Raccoon City." Roberts doesn't seem to know how to milk anything resembling genuine horror out of the material here.

It's Lifestyles of the Rich and Clueless in Ridley Scott's House of Gucci, an odd duck of a film that wants to serve you both a scrumptious gourmet meal and greasy fast food in the same bite.

There's something about a Mike Mills film that feels like it's gently caressing the hair out of your face and kissing you on the forehead: a softness, a wistfulness that acknowledges how hard reality can be while tucking you into bed. While "C'mon C'mon" can't protect you from the world, it can at the very least hold your hand as it tries to figure out the path forward too.

Nostalgia is fine in limited doses, but the sequel ends up feeling like J.J. Abrams directed "Now That's What I Call Ghostbusters," undoing any of the goodwill established by the film's first two acts. The movie is trapped in the past so much that it might taint any potential future there might be to keep the franchise alive with these new characters.

Petite Maman is richer in its simplicity; a lovely slice-of-life tale that knows that loss is so enormous and monumental that we can only linger with it for brief moments.

King Richard isn't looking to break the sports biopic genre or break the Williams' sister's legacy; it's purely a crowd-pleasing performance vehicle for Smith. But you know what? It does its job.

I don't want to get too hyperbolic here, but watching "Licorice Pizza" reminded me why I love movies so much; particularly the way they can drop us into another place and another time, and embed us completely into the lives of total strangers. If Licorice Pizza had stretched on for another hour, I would've been perfectly content to go along.

For films like Encanto to truly stand out, instead of being content with being good enough, they need to push storytelling limits as much as they push cultural ones.

Painfully earnest and positively exuberant, Tick, Tick... BOOM! isn't counting down to some kind of tragic fate. It's an explosion of life, energy, the ecstasy of being alive and making something. It's an ode to the creatives who fear they'll never reach the greatness they've been grasping at. It's a promise that they might.

Home Sweet Home Alone runs counter to whatever standard expectations any audience member would have about what to expect from a film in this franchise. To those of us who disdain the original, that actually works in its favor for the first hour. To others, this film may be alienating and perplexing. But it's a pleasant holiday surprise if you're willing to go with it.

The way the filmmakers use their underwater setting is brilliant, and while there's not a whole lot of story here, they make every moment count.

While Red Notice may not be unwatchable, by the time the film ends with a deliberate sequel set-up, I was so turned off by the mercenary nature of it all that I was left with a bad taste in my mouth.

Hanks carries the entire film on his back, and this is yet another great bit of work from the actor.

Sometimes you want to sink your teeth into a gourmet meal, and sometimes you want junk food. Stylish, entertaining junk food. And that's what this is. So dig in.

while the action cranks up in the final half-hour, it's shot in such an incoherent manner that it renders the entire endeavor rather impotent. And by the time the film's confusing finale arrives, we're left with only one real question: "That's it?"

For casual fans, "World Heroes' Mission" is solid enough in its watchability, crowdpleasing action, sight gags, and core relationship. But for all the wealth of material, there's little substance here.

With Eternals, Marvel turns a risky gamble into another piece of the puzzle. Its cosmic ambitions, its prevailing humanism amid a nihilistic outlook, and its gestures at maturity — the (real!) sex scene, the depth and warmth that they give to Henry's LGBTQ relationship — are not enough to make Eternals more than just another film to fit neatly in the Marvel Studios mold. But even so, Zhao brings an elegance to the film and the cast bring a vulnerability and care to their characters that leave a lingering impression, even as the last super-punch fades.

The French Dispatch is a rocket ship ride to your cinematic soul, meshing word, action and vision in one glorious bon-bon that’s both sweet and savory.

Young does her best to carry this all on her shoulders, and while she nails her early scenes playing up Margaret's instability, she eventually gets lost among all the scenery and abundant production design. Never quite as surreal as it needs to be, The Blazing World is an exercise in dream logic that stumbles over itself again and again.

It's a heartbreaking, but clear-eyed look at the last gasp of a dying industry, and a man whose whole identity, whole livelihood gets shattered by a force beyond his comprehension.

As a sensory experience, Knocking is stunning. The heightened sounds mixed with a stuffy, collapsing ambiance create an unforgettable experience. Pity that the narrative in the midst of all of this fails to match that power. 

The return of Madeleine Swann (Léa Seydoux) makes a strong case that extended continuity is an albatross around this franchise's neck. And Malek's Safin feels like a rough draft, only ever half there, never landing the way a classic Bond villain must. These are tough hurdles when the film is meant to be a grand swan song.

It’s a film that’s at its best when things matter and you’re empathizing even during moments of total butchery. It’s never easy to inject humanity into inhumane acts, yet Titane, like the metal, manages to do something remarkably strong in a compact form.

The Addams Family 2 makes exceedingly few right moves, feeling tossed-off right to the very end.

There are countless superhero movies better than this. Better written, better directed, better acted, better made. And yet, Let There Be Carnage has a weird, quirky heart, and sometimes, that's exactly what you need to see.

For my money, The Black Phone is more complete and effective than Derrickson's previous horror movie "Sinister" and is the first feature adaptation of Joe Hill's work that demands more big-screen Joe Hill adaptations.

Coen shows an understanding of Shakespeare's original play as well as a willingness to go beyond it. His "Tragedy of Macbeth" leans into the staginess of the story, while tapping into the surreal nightmare of the whole thing. It's nothing short of magnificent.

Dear Evan Hansen, for all the plaudits it received on stage, is a hollow attempt at broad-based sincerity that felt hollow even before it became a big-screen adaptation.

The Many Saints of Newark is smart enough to point out that Livia isn't an anomaly in this world — she's just another borderline-sociopath who has found her place among murderous men.

The cast is dynamite across the board. The way they converse with each other feels wholly natural, as if they've been talking for years.