A sharp, laugh out loud crowd-pleaser, Palm Springs could end up being the funniest film of 2020. But it’s not a mindless comedy. It tackles some profound topics amid the laughs, interrogating the sustainability of long-term relationships and exploring how a seemingly awful situation might be aided by a change in perspective.

Plus One isn’t a knock-off of one of the greatest rom-coms ever, it’s a deserving successor.

Wendy should not be written-off entirely, and younger audiences may be taken with the movie’s sugar-rush charms. But in the end, there’s not enough fairy dust in the world to make Wendy fly.

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.

By humanizing the events of such a huge tragedy, Sara Colangelo shines a light on both the victims and the forgotten bystanders who were left behind, opening that closed-off compartment once more and bringing those folks back to the forefront.

While the material they’re working with may not be great, it is fun to see Louis-Dreyfus and Ferrell go head-to-head. Maybe they can try doing that again sometime in the future. With a better script.

This is a fictional biography, and yet every moment rings true.

It is a singular work – one so ghastly, so unique, and so brutal that it will awe some and disgust others.

July – and her performers – find humanity lurking within their quirky oddballs. There’s also plenty of humor to be had, mostly from Wood’s deadpan delivery.

The horror on display here is so powerful, and Hall’s work is so strong, that you’re bound to come away from The Night House properly haunted.

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.

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.

It’s crass, it’s cruel, it’s wild, it’s often hilariously funny.

Part Brian De Palma flick, part Invasion of the Body Snatchers, part Dracula, and part Stepford Wives, Bad Hair filters its influences through Simien’s hyper-specific passions and unique sensibilities to become a singular horror comedy from a singular filmmaker.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s To the Ends of the Earth encapsulates one woman’s blossoming from a reserved drone into a willing participant with Maeda’s subtle dynamism from a perpetually placid and pouty countenance to a focused visage.

While a full 140 minutes of this can get occasionally exhausting and tedious, Aïnouz makes it more than worthwhile in his stirring conclusion when the full impact of a life apart becomes wrenchingly apparent.

Most of all, it’s empowering to watch Swift finally come into her own. To realize she doesn’t have to give a fuck about making everyone in the world like her anymore as long as she’s found a way to like herself.

As things grow more dire and mad for the Gardners, don’t be surprised if you find your eyes starting to water and your head starting to pound. It’s not an altogether pleasant experience, but it’s probably the exact sort of nightmarish, unquantifiable situation that would make H.P. Lovecraft proud.

Ritchie doesn’t handle the messages he wishes to impart as skillfully as he could — instead, he’s preoccupied with revisiting the beats that made his acclaimed gangster films work best: the sleek style, the staccato rhythm, the casual hyperviolence that begets more violence and an occasional laugh.

The Hidden World isn’t “big.” It doesn’t offer a shattering emotional moment, it doesn’t tear your heart in pieces. Instead, it tugs at your heartstrings and gently guides you to the finish line of a wondrous, lovely franchise that was more than we deserved.

With Waves, the director has crafted his most ambitious film to date – a dizzying, weighty, heart-wrenching saga of one family disintegrating right before our eyes.

Weathering With You is far and away one of the loveliest and most beautiful animated films in years.

Carl W. Lucas‘s script is never quite as smart or profound as it thinks it is, but it does manage to tap into an inherent sweetness – an underlying sense of humanity and acceptance that counter-balances all the chaos and occasional bursts of violence.

This movie isn’t going to rock anyone’s world, but it’s a sweet little movie with a wholesome message and a good-natured attitude that will almost certainly bring a few smiles to your face. Sometimes, that’s good enough.

It’s sexy, but it avoids the common tropes. It takes the Black woman “jezebel” stereotype and flips a middle finger towards it by jumping head first in this sensual world. And that brazzeness makes for a unique story that you have to see for yourself.

Everything about Dolittle seems hastily put together — from the whiplash-inducing tonal shifts, to the potty humor, to the poor use of a star-studded cast.

It’s the unexpected amount of heart that ends up making Bad Boys for Life a pleasant surprise.

Waititi’s World War II satire is both a magic trick and a high-wire act – the filmmaker keeps pulling rabbits out of his hat while balancing comedy, kindness, and often shocking darkness. The end result is a heartfelt, sweet, blackly comedic coming-of-age journey that tries to find hope in hopeless times.