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

By the time Nocturne drew to its admittedly effective conclusion I was left with the same impression that’s plagued every other Welcome to the Blumhouse entry so far: this would’ve been better as an hour-long episode of a horror anthology TV series. Sometimes, less is more.

Mufasa will satisfy, but it also feels ultimately useless. Like Disney is once again spinning its wheels, trying to wring billions of dollars out of old ideas while they brainstorm new ones. Fans of "The Lion King" may be slightly moved. At the very least, you'll finally know how Rafiki got his stick.

There’s plenty of grisly stuff here, and a lot of it is done practically, which might entice some gorehounds. But that can only go so far. Pesce’s The Eyes of My Mother has ten times less gore than this and still managed to be ten times as scary. Here’s hoping he gets back to making something like that, and soon.

Ultimately, your enjoyment of Exit 8 will hinge on how much repetitiveness you're willing to tolerate. Liminal space horror fans will likely enjoy the film's moody aesthetic, and there are times where Exit 8 feels like a movie to be digested via spooky gifs and screenshots. Exit 8 may very well give you the creeps, but that might not be enough.

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

The film seems like it should be this deeply personal exploration of one's own struggle to connect with others because of an inability to fully accept themself, but in practice, "All of Us Strangers" plays more like a sentimental novel you'd find at an airport newsstand. It's made with far more skill and care than those typically are, but at its core, they contain about the same amount of emotional insight.

The premise of Luck — what if good and bad luck were engineered? — is too thin to make either element feel fulfilling. Instead, the film's most imaginative qualities feel flattened, while its attempts to lend a fresh, modern edge to these old-age concepts feel unsharpened and bland.

To his credit, Edwards immediately injects "Rebirth" with a sense of stakes and tension that the entirety of the previous trilogy struggled to depict. But every time the plot kicks in again and writer David Koepp's script goes through the motions of a standard "Jurassic" movie, those dizzying peaks soon begin to flatten out into overgrown valleys.

We Have a Ghost can't escape its overstuffed nature, and that hampers the entire experience.

Overall, the details of Blue Beetle are fun, and the characters may inspire a few warm familial smiles, but the whole is frustratingly shabby and rushed.

Origin lacks both a center of gravity and a sense of scale.

As a whole, Lovely, Dark, and Deep starts to feel like a short film (or story) stretched to feature length. I was on board with the movie's various chills, but I wanted something more. 

I'm sure most of the film's scenes will slip from my memory as the days go on, but while I watched, I enjoyed the battle between Theron and Egerton.

The film lacks the wonderment and excitement of Indiana Jones, but it's not quite as dumb as "The Da Vinci Code," and certainly less obnoxious than, say, "Red Notice."

In execution, it feels like a neophyte director's confident first turn. Perhaps shabby, but well-meaning, and only occasionally straining against its obviously limited means. 

Mother Mary is an emotionally distant, confounding, and ultimately unsatisfying work of art. Though its visual ambition and lead performances are commendable, it never gives enough of itself to let the rest of us in.

Assayas becomes so subservient to the sheer volume of events and information he must bring to life that the film completely subsumes any sense of personal style or voice.

As hard as the cast and Taika Waititi try, though, it just doesn't work. "Thor: Ragnarok" felt effortless. "Thor: Love and Thunder" is working very hard, and not getting a lot to show for it.

Dogman is one of those curios that you don't understand how it got made and just kinda marvel while it's happening, but once you try to put all the pieces together, nothing fits, and you're left wondering what the hell you just watched.

The Pope's Exorcist is by no means a good movie, but there's a modicum of fun to be had from watching Crowe do his thing. And if you have a problem with him, you can take it up with his boss — the Pope!

As far as Netflix movies go, Day Shift is inoffensive enough for your viewing pleasure. But I wanted more.

There’s so much wasted potential here. As the story draws to its big, loud climax, and one fan-service moment after another arises, you begin to get the sense that Abrams is just checking off boxes and fulfilling a quota. There’s no spark; no joy; no life. If this truly is the end of the Skywalker Saga, what an ignoble end it is.

If you're simply looking to see Murphy slip back into a familiar role and have a little fun, "Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F" might do the trick. Even though this film is lackluster, it's still fun to watch Eddie Murphy do his thing, and there are moments here where he genuinely seems to be having a good time, and that can be contagious. So maybe that's enough to satisfy. Or, when you sit down and fire up Netflix to watch this film, you can make a wiser choice and just watch "Dolemite is My Name" instead. It'll be a much better use of your time, I promise.

Love Hurts marks the first leading role for Ke Huy Quan, and he avails himself well enough. He doesn't ever shimmer off the screen, and he doesn't handle the romance elements perfectly, but he possesses an appealing hangdog quality that feels human and relatable. However mediocre the movie around him, one always has the instinct to cheer him on.

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.

Adams alone might make this worth a watch, just because it's always a treat to watch her worrk. Let's just hope she returns to better things after this, and soon.

In terms of cheap, late-night, exploitation flick fun, it satisfies.

It’s a soulful slice of life movie, but one that has so many slices that you end up with multiple pizzas by the time the end credits roll. And hey, everyone loves pizza, right? But when you have a belly full of it, you can look back and realize that there is such a thing as too much. One thing’s for sure: you won’t see another movie like it this year.

"Michael" emerges as whatever the opposite of a warts-and-all biography is. This is a polished, flavorless, cracks-free paean to Jackson, celebrating his highs and only sometimes looking at the lows, as if they were mere dust-bunnies under the couch.

All of this is very silly, but there's nothing wrong with that! In fact, Hypnotic would be a lot better off if it learned to lean into that silliness. Instead, Rodriguez keeps everything very dour, and while he injects some life here and there via action beats (the bank robbery scene is quite well-staged, as are several chase sequences), the filmmaker can never really get "Hypnotic" working.

The Monkey is a blood-soaked barrel of laughs and grisly kills that never finds an effective way to reconcile either of those.

Some may get a kick out of how over-the-top and pulpy Shadow in the Cloud is, but what’s on display here is so abrasive and so bombastic that it begins to sap the life out of you, ultimately leaving a bad taste in your mouth when all is said and done.

Queenpins boasts a cast of talented ringers, who elevate the muddled material far more than it deserves, without actually resulting in an all-around good movie.

The Rip does give us a handful of scenes where Damon and Affleck's characters bro out, but these are brief flashes of light in a sea of darkness. I'm all for dark and gritty crime dramas, but "The Rip" never feels like much of a movie, more like a pilot for a new, particularly violent "Law & Order" spin-off. Matt Damon and Ben Affleck are movie stars, why hire them for anything less?

Sure, it's a lot of fun watching beautiful assassin Ana de Armas pick up a flamethrower and burn some dudes to a crisp, but a film featuring such an exciting concept shouldn't be this forgettable.

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.

A somewhat ambitious but messy and ultimately unsatisfying sequel, despite packing some decent laughs and a couple of genuinely exhilarating sequences.

There's a place for brainless, R-rated action movies like this in theaters, and there always will be. But, hopefully, it's not asking too much for one that properly justifies the average moviegoer's time and hard-earned money.

There's nothing offensively bad about The Alto Knights ... but you kind of wish there was, because at least that might've made the movie more interesting.

The Forever Purge is at its best when it’s attempting to subvert the standard formula.

Those looking for the next "The Sixth Sense" will inevitably come away disappointed (though, contrary to popular belief, that wasn't M. Night's actual debut film either). But as a bold announcement that the next evolution of the Shyamalan name is upon us, Ishana leaves plenty of reason to believe that the best is still ahead of us.

What The Pod Generation lacks in cohesion it (mostly) makes up for in laughs.

The end result is a slow-burn romantic thriller that's so slow it doesn't really seem to go anywhere.

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."

For all the areas where it doesn't quite work, however, there's no argument that They Cloned Tyrone digs into important topics and inequities, and sheds light on people who deserve to get more attention. It's also a bold film that takes big swings.

If "Cat Person" could just strip away all the nonsense and instead focus on its more realistic, genuine elements, it would be something special. Instead, it ends up being a mildly amusing mixed bag. 

Once upon a time, a movie of this ilk could be unremarkable but fun; sturdy and dependable; solid, even. Not this time, though. 

Onward is a decent, well-paced, well-animated, moderately enjoyable film. It’s got a good message, an emotional third act, and some pleasantly surprising jokes. Onward is…OK. The problem with Onward is that Pixar’s original films are incredible. OK is, simply, just not good enough.

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.

Unfortunately, The Love Birds just isn’t that funny. Don’t get me wrong – Nanjiani and Rae are funny, and they try really hard to make this material pop. But the jokes fall flat more often than not, and the direction from Michael Showalter (who also directed Nanjiani in The Big Sick) is oddly lax, with scene after scene embracing the unstylish “point and shoot” approach.

Sony, still possessing the film rights to Spider-Man, decided to make an interconnected Spider-Man Villain universe, of which "Kraven the Hunter" is the final chapter. Watching Chandor's film, though, one can see that neither the studio nor the filmmakers are interested in starting anything anymore. There is no presumption that fans will be interested in long-form mythmaking, and sequel teases remain light. This allows "Kraven" to be stupid on its own. And, in a weird way, that's a relief. We're free.

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.

Rather than adding something fresh and new to give us a reason to reinvest in this universe, the end result is as by-the-numbers as it gets.

Spirit Untamed is inoffensive, which both makes it far more tolerable than most other DreamWorks Animation titles and also not terribly good in and of itself.

For all the storylines it juggles — part love story, part franchise extension, and part treatise on how mind-numbingly awful group projects in class can be (seriously, this early section might actually be the highlight of the movie) — The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes feels caught between its humbler, more character-driven aims and the blockbuster expectations of reinvigorating a brand.

The very idea of a biopic about a guy who claimed to invent a hot Cheeto feels like a gag, but it could've sidestepped all of that by avoiding the usual biopic cliches. But Flamin' Hot leans into them with an aggressiveness that makes "Bohemian Rhapsody" look like "I'm Not There." It would be insulting if it wasn't so tired.

And to cap it all off, Mortal Kombat commits the sin that so many recent Hollywood adaptations of existing properties make these days – it’s all set up. Everything that happens here can be written off as exposition laying the groundwork for a sequel, where the real kombat can begin. It’s a ruse; a come-on; a side-show with a very loud barker out front. “We can’t show you that stuff just yet, but come back next time and we might!” The thing is, we’re all suckers enough to probably fall for it.

By the time Havoc ended, I felt as exhausted as Hardy's beaten and bruised character. I suppose Evans and company deserve some credit for making an action movie that really leans into the brutality, but there's only so much of that you can put up with before it starts to grow tedious.

A Haunting in Venice does try to spice things up, but all the skewed angles in the world can't hide the fact that this mystery is half as eerie as it wants to be, and roughly as entertaining.

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?"

Everything feels so sterile, filmed under cold, harsh lights. It’s one of the most horror-free horror movies in recent memory. Maybe Blomkamp should give sci-fi another shot.

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.

I found myself annoyed that such a fresh new take on Dracula, and from Nic Cage no less, is wasted on such a lousy movie. Nicolas Cage's Dracula deserves a better movie, and so do we.

This is a glorified OVA (Original Video Animation) with an accelerated recap of the show and a few cute Kyo-Tohru scenes stuck on to justify the feature film designation — but the thing is, they only serve to make the whole thing weaker. Because buried in between that messy recap and nostalgia-baiting prologue scene is an imperfect adaptation of one of the best things Natsuki Takaya has written.

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.

As a self-contained and satisfying yarn, this initial attempt at original franchise-building leaves a whole lot to be desired. As the most expensive feature-length trailer ever made, "Horizon" sets the stage for a much more interesting sequel where, hopefully, something of import actually happens.

Seven Veils feels like Egoyan struggling under his own expectations, just like Jeanine begins to crumble under hers.

Taken on its own merits, The Marvels is little more than another mediocre, easily-forgotten effort in a never-ending stream of products.

The mystery is a convoluted mess, clearly attempting to marry the intrigue of "Chinatown" with the escalating chaos of a Coen Brothers movie while failing to make things compelling, all while the wacky humor falls flat.

And yet, The Final Reckoning is too messy, too awkward, too clumsy. It somehow feels overlong and inert even as it never slows down.

In the end, watching Pain Hustlers is about as numbing an experience as being prescribed the drug Liza spent her career selling.

Those craving some gloomy, unforgiving post-apocalyptic drama might get a kick out of what's on display here. Everyone else might want to scurry away. You know, like a crab in the dark.

There are bursts of inspiration here and there, such as when the plot shifts to Peru and suddenly takes on an "Indiana Jones" flavor (which, annoyingly, the characters can't help but comment upon) or when an early horror-tinged sequence puts a new spin on the famous "Raptors in the kitchen" scene from "Jurassic Park." But such joys don't arrive consistently enough to make this venture worthwhile.

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

And that, perhaps, is the real fatal flaw of "Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3." Gunn's first two movies felt different. They stood out from the pack and had their own unique personality. But "Vol. 3" feels like more of the same. I'm not suggesting Gunn and company are phoning it in this time around, but it certainly feels like the magic has faded. Whatever alchemy the filmmaker worked to make the first two "Guardians" movies memorable has evaporated into the ether.

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?"

Firestarter isn't offensively bad. It's not likely to make you angry, or have you calling it the worst dang thing you've ever seen. But it is aggressively average, bordering on mediocre. There's nothing fiery here. It's lukewarm at best.

Where previous wartime productions that Hanks helped spearhead had the grit, suspense, and complex characterization that defines great modern drama, Greyhound is a stripped-down touring production with an unexpectedly recognizable lead. It’s a serviceable way to spend 90 minutes, but serviceable isn’t saying much.

Followers of Carax will be warmed by his return if a little disappointed it doesn’t quite recapture the magic, while fans of Sparks (many newly minted thanks to Wright) may appreciate the foray into a different outlet for their art. For those of us open to the experience but without a baked-in attitude to love this sight unseen, Annette proves to be a deeply flawed picture that still has many moments to recommend it.

The overstuffed "Despicable Me 4" abandons any pretense of caring about characters or narrative, choosing instead to fit in as many gags, characters, and little stories with as little consequences as they can.

There are moments of dread and tension, and as the narrative wears on it goes to some commendably weird places. But by then it's too little too late, and the movie ends with us wishing that the characters really had done something — anything, really.

While Clouds absolutely has its heart in the right place, that heart doesn’t translate into a similarly winning story.

There is a great deal missing from Ritchie's film. "The Covenant" is almost aggressive in its complete lack of wartime litigation. While the harrowing nature of a soldier's experience is laid bare, the meaning of the actual, prolonged quagmire of the Afghanistan occupation will be lingering in the back of most audience's minds.

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.

But when the smoke of its bombastic climax clears, what we're left with is an oddly sanitized, toned-down, and somewhat misshapen addition to Ritchie's oeuvre.

Yes, it could’ve been worse. But as daring as this film’s costumes are, and as fun as Stone and Thompson (and Hauser and Fry, to be fair) can be, it can’t help but give into its lazier instincts.

You can drop Nic Cage in your dull movie all you want, but when you do, you're only getting a memorable Cage performance in an otherwise unmemorable story. I love to watch Cage work. I just wish I didn't have to watch him work under these conditions.

Its premise is ridiculous, its entire appeal based on the novelty of having a bunch of Lycra-clad strangers thrust their hips at you in the dark. Hooper creates something just as bizarre with his Cats, though not as successfully electrifying. Its flashes of brilliance feel like happy accidents and its uncanny technical choices are never overcome.

Unfortunately, whenever the action stops, The Old Guard sags, with emotional moments that never really land, and big dramatic scenes that lack any genuine drama.

Earwig and the Witch feels like a film going through the motions, but not understanding the emotion behind the big narrative beats it’s trying to pull off. It’s a film matched by its flat animation style: incomplete and uninspired.

Jumbo is a ride that might be worth taking once, but don’t be surprised if you walk away from it feeling more than a little disappointed.

Paint almost gets by on its shaggy dog charm mostly thanks to Wilson, who remains loveable enough to guide us through this world. But the comedy is flat and the drama is dry, and none of it adds up to a pretty picture.

This is not an adaptation of "Wuthering Heights," but the result of what happens when you're playing an approximation "Wuthering Heights" without a full grasp on the material but all the money in the world to bring your questionable imagination to life.

A film that ultimately feels forgettable as nothing about it, from visuals to score, finds a home in your brain (and that includes ending with a weird music video during the end credits).

For all his skills, Wright seemingly can't pin down what he wants "The Running Man" to be. The action isn't very exciting, the satire is unoriginal, and the over-reliance on weird product placement (both Liquid Death and Monster Energy get distracting shout-outs here) make the entire picture feel manufactured. I had high hopes that Wright could get "The Running Man" across the finish line, but the film stumbles right out of the gate.

At Midnight is caught between its reverence for what came before and the relevance of figuring out where it's going next. If that feels just a little too on-the-nose for a modern rom-com, well, maybe it's a good thing this one didn't cost the price of a movie ticket, after all.

The film reiterates every detail you already know from the key reports that have been published about him, but the true power of this movie (and for me, the only reason it should exist at all) comes in its interviews with Weinstein’s victims, and the stories from these women are just as heart-rending and disturbing as you probably imagine.