When Let Them All Talk finally reaches its destination, it feels like another Soderbergh experiment. He literally took his cast on a cruise for the flick – shooting for two weeks with his cast improvising whenever they could. The journey is enjoyable – but oddly forgettable. It’s like a quick vacation that immediately starts to fade from memory the moment you return.

This is not as surprising or innovative as director Park's earlier work, but it is still a fascinating and exquisitely directed film about desire, regret, and love. The final moments will likely be talked about and discussed as much as any of his other work.

As far as directorial debuts go, The Rental is a strong start for Franco, who proves here he can take not just one but two different tried-and-true genre formulas and rework them into something neat.

With its flat hand-drawn characters moving briskly across the richly detailed backgrounds, Cryptozoo is bursting to the seams with dazzling, shocking, brutal (and edgy, this is an adult animated film, remember) visuals.

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

One of the things that makes You Hurt My Feelings so enjoyable is that it's simply a film about adults having adult conversations. They drift around New York, or hang out in apartments and bars, and just ... talk. That might sound boring, but the snappy script and hilarious performances keep everything buoyant.

80 for Brady isn't the most original play in the playbook, minus the sheer atypicality of aiming a gang of protagonists with around almost 400 years between them at a sports event for which they aren't the usual fanbase. That said, the comedy has enough charm, memorable moments, and charismatic performances from legendary actresses that it's a good, breezy time.

As haphazard and messy as The Mortuary Collection is, its bloody, ripped-out heart is in the right place.

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

On the Rocks isn’t Coppola’s most momentous film — it’s a little too frothy, all crackle and no pop — but its near lackadaisical tone and a delightful Murray performance make it an entertaining watch. It goes down like a smooth glass of wine, with perhaps a little bit of tartness.

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.

It's sick and twisted enough to stick with you, and the closing moments are particularly delightful (in a bleak sort of way). I just wish it all added up to a little bit more.

There is a bittersweetness to be seen in "Ella McCay," as the movie openly wonders whether hope in our political system is as outdated as everything else. This theme may be fully intentional or it may be coincidental, yet it feels heartfelt in either case.

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.

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?

Despite its many twists, The Outfit is a fairly straightforward thriller, buoyed by its sharp narrative turns and a quietly subversive Rylance.

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.

A Complete Unknown doesn't break new ground, but it knows how to play the hits. 

If you're on the fence at all, there is a mid-credits sequence that truly leaves the mid-credits made mandatory by the Marvel Cinematic Universe dead in the dirt and is so damn good that it completely recontextualizes the tone of the movie that came before.

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.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour may not be a great film, but it is a hell of a good time at the movies.

The Forgiven runs the risk of becoming a thoughtless movie about a vile white man who is taught a lesson by wise brown people, but McDonagh, who also wrote the script, manages to (mostly) avoid that with a subtle touch.

A triumphant, inspiring movie about the heroism of human decency, Ironbark is a rock solid spy drama that, if it came out 20 years ago, would have easily become a mainstay on TNT or TBS. Hollywood doesn’t make movies like this very often anymore, and if does prove to be part of a last gasp of character-focused period thrillers, at least the genre is going out with some style.

Fear Street Part 2 also thrives once it really gets going. There’s a certain rough patch at the start that the film thankfully shrugs off, eventually sucking us into its night-dark story of doomed youth. A potential – and potentially questionable – romance that blooms between Ziggy and Nick Goode (Ted Sutherland), the boy destined to grow up and be sheriff, is charming in its clumsiness. A side character like punk rocker counselor Alice (Ryan Simpkins) seems annoying at first, only to blossom into someone we’re actively rooting for. After two films, the real strength of Fear Street is in its characters, not its scares. No one is expendable meat here – but that doesn’t mean they won’t get ground up in the end.

It’s an interesting idea on page, but in John and the Hole, it is all a little too opaque to make sense of Sisto’s muted portrait of adolescence.

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.

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.

Cameron and Colin Cairnes succeed in developing a time-warp slice of Halloween spookiness, a vessel for David Dastmalchian to prove himself (for those who don't know) as a commanding lead performer.