On paper, this movie should not work, but what we got was an instant classic that is eminently rewatchable and assembled one of the best funny casts ever. The energy levels of the movie are off the charts, keeping it wildly entertaining even in today's short attention span world.

After the original "Fear Street" trilogy, I was itching to return to Shadyside. It was not worth the wait.

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.

It fails to be either funny or dramatic.

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."

I came out of "Let There Be Carnage" wanting more Venom and Eddie. I came out of "The Last Dance" content to never see them again. If this really is "The Last Dance," it comes not a moment too soon.

Despite the mostly younger cast, Without Remorse is a bland throwback to the late 1980s and early 1990s, hearkening to an era of such simplistic notions of good and bad that its script could have been unearthed from a time capsule. Sollima’s direction is journeyman-like, which wouldn’t be a demerit if the film he was directing didn’t feel so lifeless.

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.

The Woman in the Window is so silly and broad that it begins to border on camp, and I have a feeling this could become the type of cheesy dreck that people get a hoot out of if they follow Anna’s lead and down one or two or ten bottles of wine. By the time the film climaxes with multiple predictable but utterly preposterous twists, you’ll probably be reaching for a bottle yourself.

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.

With Sullivan's phenomenal performance and Stuckmann's keen eye, Shelby Oaks allows us to witness the start of one of the most promising new voices in horror.

Every joke in Easter Sunday lands with a thud, every emotional beat falls flat. It has the sense of humor of a bad TikTok video, and the emotional resonance of that TikTok commercial playing right now where wide-eyed people declare, "I learned it from TikTok!" Visually, it looks like a network TV reject or that one Netflix movie that you put on in the background while doing laundry.

A creative reimagining sprinkled with fairy dust, Come Away succeeds on the strength of its whimsical (but not overly whimsical) script by Marissa Kate Goodhill and its impressive ensemble cast, and soars thanks to Chapman’s stellar direction. A new children’s classic has arrived, and this timeless fairytale will surely enchant audiences for generations to come.

The Carpenter's Son might just be creepy enough to work for you even if you've managed to go your whole life without religion or faith. But I imagine it works even better if you've spent some time in church.

65 mainly suffers from weak writing. Action movies don't need to be cranial to be fun, but there should be some stability in the plot. Beck and Woods really struggle to balance the tone, communicate character motivation, and generally craft a compelling story.

I don't fault Meg 2: The Trench for being silly. I do fault it for being boring. 

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.

Spiral blunders through its central mystery without grace or style, or even much thought. Even the death traps are weirdly uninspired.

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.

DreamWorks Animation can make solid family entertainment. But they haven’t this time.

While horror fans might not get much out of The Deliverance, it might be worth watching for the performances alone. At the very least, several of the acting choices Glenn Close makes here will burn themselves into your brain and make you forget all about her turn in "Hillbilly Elegy."

"Believer" is not the worst "Exorcist" film by any stretch, but it's certainly the least intriguing. It's a rote, choppy thriller that forgets to scare us.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

"The Mystery of Marilyn Monroe" too often feels like it's merely scratching the surface and not trying to go much deeper. While I understand that the research of Anthony Summers is what helped shape this doc, Summers himself is far too present here, to the point where the documentary begins to feel more about him writing the book than it is about Monroe.

Poor conclusion aside, Him clearly indicates that Justin Tipping is a filmmaker to watch, especially if he wants to stick around in the horror genre. Best of all, though, it serves as a wonderful showcase for Marlon Wayans, who has never really been as good as he is here, turning in a performance that's both incredibly fun and undeniably unsettling. I just wish the rest of the movie could match his energy.