The new trilogy ends frail whimper rather than a T-rex-worthy roar.

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

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?"

The film drags considerably — at one point I thought it was almost over only to realize there was a full hour left — but the over-the-top religious hokum is too fun to ignore.

As intended, "Section 31" is the Michelle Yeoh show, and she wears Georgiou like a spiky, vampy, blood-soaked glove at this point. Either you enjoy watching Yeoh strut and kick and smirk through action scenes, or you have no taste.

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.

At the end of the day, "The Super Mario Galaxy Movie" was nothing more than a video game I couldn't play. After the credits — including not one but two post-credits scenes — rolled, though, I didn't want to go home and load a Mario game onto my Switch; I wanted to watch a better movie.

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.

Whenever The Unholy wants to scare you, it simply enters internet screamer territory, complete with ghoul faces rushing directly into the camera as loud noises boom from somewhere. Outside of these admittedly startling moments, The Unholy unfolds sedately, and sometimes incoherently.

Space Jam: A New Legacy, both in its cravenly cynical development and release, is not a surprising film. The marketing didn’t lie. This movie is exactly what it looks like. And it’s a grim glimpse at a potential future of mainstream filmmaking. No thanks

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.

At the very least, the filmmaker offers up some cool things that we haven't seen in a modern action movie like this, which can be very challenging in the wake of many "Mission: Impossible" and "John Wick" movies. For that, Argylle is worth a trip to the theater.

Morbius is the type of movie that fails to justify its own existence.

I'm sure Lakewood had its heart in the right place, and Watts, gosh love her, is really trying, since she's pretty much the only person on screen for most of the movie. But every step Amy takes towards the school is another misstep the movie makes, and by the time she gets to her destination, we've already mentally checked out.

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.

All of this is emblematic of a film that suffers from self-inflicted wounds at practically every turn. Lacking the cleverness of the original, the undeniable flair of the best of Wes Craven's sequels, and the crowd-pleasing thrills of the recent revivals, "Scream 7" is more or less dead on arrival. Maybe it should stay that way.

Snyder once again displays his usual knack for crafting the occasional breathtaking visual and colorful splash page — a kiss silhouetted by the Veldt equivalent of magic hour, a spaceship foregrounded by an eclipsing star, and a stunning tableau of lasers crisscrossing in the heat of battle are memorable highlights — but his insistence on serving as his own director of photography continues to hold him back at every turn.

On paper, Chris Evans and Ana de Armas would seem like a perfect romantic-comedy couple, but their chemistry in this film is nonexistent.

Thunder Force has too good of a core idea to be left so unexplored. Melissa McCarty can’t be stopped, but she continues to be content making films that leave her talent frustratingly untapped.

Mercy is a sight that may induce sore eyes, a punishing experience for those with even the lowest of expectations, and appears destined to land among the dregs of the year. But, worst of all, this feels like an alarming glimpse into a world I want no part of — one where our entertainment isn't so much as created by AI, but explicitly tailored for those who no longer care enough to see the difference. On the bright side, 2026 can't get any worse than this ... right?

The Man From Toronto struggles throughout the entire film to establish a consistent tone.

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.

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.

The film — an ensemble feature whose premise rests on the challenges of shooting an aggressively bad action movie in the middle of a pandemic — succeeds in being funny.

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.

What Five Nights at Freddy's lacks in a robust story — an unexpected plot turn about halfway through feels like a genuinely bold curveball, though it's tempered somewhat by a slightly too neat-and-tidy ending — it more than makes up for with a penchant for oddball theatrics and flair.

The problem with Like a Boss is that it spends so much time being a pale imitation of other female-led comedies that it overlooks what makes the film work: Haddish and Byrne. If you just let them riff, let them live together and let the cameras roll, you would get an infinitely better movie than the middling workplace comedy that Like a Boss turns out to be.

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.