A true-crime thriller that also operates as a damning commentary on societal misogyny—especially in Hollywood—it’s as chillingly sharp and canny as its deranged fiend.

What they have to say, and what’s depicted here, won’t make anyone feel more optimistic about our looming undead-avatar futures.

Suggests that the Taliban are engaged in an elaborate role-playing performance for which they’re unqualified.

Adele Lim’s romp fits in with the likes of Bridesmaids and Girls Trip—which is to say, underneath all the sex and raunchiness, there’s actual emotional depth.

A model of tone, concision, and emotional and psychological insight, led by a staggering performance from John Magara and an equally moving one from pint-sized co-star Molly Belle Wright.

The film is moment-to-moment lively, sharp, and funny. Too bad that, like a dream, its pleasures are all over the place, and dissipate almost as quickly as they arrive.

There may be no cinematic artist more deserving of a lionizing documentary than Williams, and that’s precisely what he receives from Music by John Williams.

The movie’s secret weapon, in many ways, is not Washington but rather A$AP Rocky, who emerges in the second half to give a performance so fun it’s easy to anoint him the next big movie star.

A model midnight-movie beat-’em-up.

Both a comprehensive primer and a nostalgic celebration, it successfully makes the case that few 20th-century funnymen were as daring, pioneering, or outright amusing.

Barry Keoghan is arguably the most electric actor working today, and he absolutely ignites Bird.

Lipovsky and Stein elicit not a single solid performance from their cast, and their tale’s twists are illogical even by the material’s established guidelines.

Blame for this sports drama’s shallow leadenness can’t be similarly pinned on the supernatural; instead, its shortcomings are attributable to a one-dimensional script and resultant performances that are far less nuanced than its headliners’ ripped bodies.

Its lack of originality is at least partially offset by its gripping depiction of intolerance and exclusion as impediments to survival.

It’s Dynevor, though, who makes Fair Play sizzle. Balancing fiery sensuality and severe determination, the red-headed 27-year-old actress lights up the screen.

Thanks to its stellar animation, some great gags, and unique twists on one of Pixar’s smartest concepts, the film should be a memory that audiences find worth keeping in their minds’ headquarters.

On top of being a no-holds-barred action movie, The Fall Guy is also the best studio rom-com since Crazy Rich Asians. Gosling and Blunt make for an intoxicating duo, and Gosling really runs away with the rest of the movie, too.

It’s easy to see the film’s punches coming before they’re thrown, but that doesn’t lessen their wallop when they land.

Wicked is maximalist by every definition of the word, a whimsical, visual feast with top-to-bottom Movie Star performances that explode off the screen. But, under the delicate hand of maestro Jon M. Chu, it’s also grounded in a way that stirs you—brain, heart, courage, and all—in thrilling new ways that deepen and enrich the musical fans love.

Like many teen movies, I Wish You All the Best does become heavy-handed and cheesy at certain points, but that in no way diminishes the poignancy it offers.

A rousing underdog saga that—like Ben Affleck’s prior directorial efforts Gone Baby Gone, The Town, and Argo—has the type of snappy energy and charm that should earn it a long post-theatrical shelf life.

Blending horror and humor, sweetness and scares, and fantasy and family melodrama, it shoots for the moon—and, more often than not, scores a bullseye.

There is something ever so gently unhinged in this lean, crisp action film that doubles as an arthouse character study.

A romantic comedy that tears down, and then builds back up, its intertwined characters to amusingly penetrating effect.

With formal polish and deep compassion, it proves to be the most heartwarming film of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Painting a multifaceted portrait of the racing legend during a particular moment of personal and professional crises, the auteur’s first feature since 2015’s Blackhat hums with steely passion and pain.

With an aesthetic ingenuity to match its pooch’s impressively expressive performance, it’s a thriller that ably justifies its central gimmick.

A look at Coppola’s creative process that proves significantly more illuminating and entertaining than the director’s finished product.