While this second round proves why the first movie worked, it also brings the now-franchise closer to losing its spark.

While a few fun martial arts scenes pepper the effort, they are subsumed by an overall product that is riddled with plot holes, choppy cuts, laughable acting, and villains so evil that they’d make Skeletor blush.

Golda fails as a war movie, impenetrable to those unfamiliar with the Israeli-Arab conflict. It fails as a biopic, too, by refusing to scrutinize how Golda rose to power — and, most importantly, how she kept at it.

Insanely violent, packed with off-color jokes, and of course, sentimentality, “The Predator” is one of the most enjoyable popcorn flicks hitting multiplexes this fall season.

With just a little bit more prodding and elaboration, the movie could have been rich and evocative. Even if you don't believe what he preaches, the movie (at least) could have bordered on a transcendent experience. As it stands, it's pretty good, but not exactly heavenly.

Made in America proves that the American dream is undeniably powerful, even to those who have accomplished so much that they have to appreciate it in a form that borders on the abstract.

The acting is as inspired as the screenplay allows, which just isn't enough to add any kind of conviction to the events that transpire on screen.

Ultimately, Tron: Ares is all voltage and no current—an aesthetic overload that confuses stimulation for meaning.

The drama in Downtown Owl often feels stilted and too locked in to Klosterman’s observations instead of the character’s actions.

Ted 2 gives lip service to civil liberties and spends the rest of the running time picking the easiest joke to tell, again and again and again.

The ultimate effect of the film’s hackneyed material is as debilitating as it is frustrating.

Because there’s some genuinely great ideas in the film, and some terrific character work, but it’s given such uneven attention, alternately languished upon and glossed over, that the portrait Burger creates feels complete without, well, making us feel a whole lot else.

This whole endeavor never becomes as bewitching as it should be. It’s never more than adequate, and while P.T. Barnum will go down as one of the most interesting men in history, this film won’t pull off the same feat.

As an affecting romance between a woman caught between two worlds, it very nearly sticks the landing. As a showcase for Ms. Bosworth, never better, it's often sublime.

We all have our own regrets and sins to reconcile with. The Banishing reminds us that sometimes we’re forced to answer for the sins of others, too.

Yes, it's uneven, more jokes miss than hit, and it winds up taking easy dramatic shortcuts from the more interesting avenues that the script presents, but it's thanks to the lead quartet that the comedy is as engaging at it is.

Dashcam delivers a relentless, evolving monster movie that utilizes familiar genre tropes from various influences, including “REC,” “Chronicle,” and “Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones.” However, it brings enough to the table that doesn’t feel familiar to make it work effectively.

The results are a disturbing mixture of paranormal ghost story and psychological unease.

It's a film that plays equally to both sides of the political spectrum, and it feels like pandering either way.

Having recruited as fine a cast of French-speaking thesps as has ever been assembled, and marshalled a strong behind-the-camera team, Dolan’s usually exuberant egotism is here taken so seriously that what we’re left with is a shrieking bore, without a single character worth rooting for, least of all the puddle of maudlin self-pity at its center.

When the film drifts into the larger discourse of Abercrombie’s fall, it favors simplistic answers — namely the democratization of social media — over a more critical interrogation of why Abercrombie fell, and how they are still trying to claw their way back to relevancy.

It’s as if “The Man Of Steel” was ninety minutes of supervillians shit-talking Superman, then casually sticking kryptonite in his face without even pretending it’s a surprise.

Song One is well intentioned, well-shot and has its musical heart in the right place, but it often feels incredibly familiar, and the more contrived, credulity-straining moments don’t help.

Ultimately, Lee's clarity of vision hasn't been this sharp or unique since before "Crooklyn," and it's thrilling with Red Hook Summer to witness a return to the technique – and most of all, emotional wallop – that even today continues to give his films an enduring life as both entertainment, and enlightenment.

It's not everyone cup of bloody tea, but an unapologetic genre treat for those willing to dive in.

If it wasn’t for the highly-publicized scandals that envelop “Jeanne du Barry,” it is likely the film would make a swift turn from the red carpet into ostracism, and while the hubbub certainly delays the process, it will do little to prevent Maïwenn’s dire latest from the merciless hands of oblivion.

You’ve gotta give Underwater this much, though: it’s not boring. It’s brief (95 minutes), knows exactly what it is, and Stewart and Cassell seem to be having a good time.

If the script plunges into the frustrating waters of predictability, Manodrome finds some solace in the asserted cast.

Beyond some obvious pot shots and on-the-nose metaphors, it begins to feel more and more like a missed opportunity than smart satire.

The problems are many, the ease with which it goes down is high, and whether Thrash set out to craft a solid thriller or a purposeful schlockfest, it lands squarely in the middle, destined to be forgotten.

Planes: Fire and Rescue serves as a dramatic improvement over the original, introducing thrilling action sequences backed by actual stakes and an unexpected emotional dimension, all on top of upgraded animation and a greater emphasis on character.

Great cast, fun mysteries, well-crafted set pieces, and suspense for days isn’t enough to outweigh the crushing defeat felt at the end of Escape Room by the ludicrous ending that overshadows the proceedings.

The movie is never without forward momentum, it's just too bad when just when it's ready to go to interesting places, we jump back to Bonner and Aya's pedestrian romance.

Unexceptionally directed by Roar Uthaug (Norwegian hit “The Wave“), Tomb Raider is superficial even for a mainstream tentpole, clumsily and unpersuasively put together and tests and breaks suspension of disbelief at every turn.

While the reboot possesses a campy charm that advanced ironists are bound to find entertaining, an eerily effective score from Bear McCreary and a scene-stealing performance by Brian Tyree Henry, none of this is remotely enough to make up for a sheer lack of imagination.

Despite a committed performance from Benedict Cumberbatch, the end result truly doesn’t coalesce either from an artistic or cinematic perspective.

There’s something present here, something perhaps even brilliant, but whatever that may be; it’s just not enough.

There are a few rushes in this movie’s incredibly calculated rendition of Mardenborough’s tale, thanks to Blomkamp. But Sony is transparent with this adaptation, which has no ambitions to make Gran Turismo any more challenging than gamer bait.

Acerbic and purposefully vile, LaBute’s story is clearly self-aware of its various cruel manipulations of character and audience, but the formula itself -- taken from his early modus operandi -- is simply becoming more and more rote.

Forgettable and only mildly entertaining, 300: Rise of An Empire seals its own fate at the initial story level by being so deeply invested in its own mythmaking and playing super safe.

Overall, State Like Sleep is a satisfying movie about grief and an unsatisfying mystery.

This film feels like one you discover late at night and watch for ten minutes before remembering you've already seen it, and yet we still kinda loved it.

If Kiss of the Damned has one thing, it's an identifiable groove, one that is sustained and very, very infectious.

It’s still worthwhile to consider the post-#MeToo ideas that Cat Person throws at the wall around notions like empathy, consent, and the vitality of crystal-clear communication and see what sticks. What you will end up with might look like a messy artifact, but one that will at least rattle in ways both witty and provocative.

Keeping things on the right side of watchable are the performances, none of which are particularly revelatory, but all of them serving the territory their role in the story requires. Blunt and Bennett both rise above the pack, but even so, the screenplay doesn’t give them dimension until almost too late.

As a movie, things play out as an obvious parable about the greed that grips men’s hearts once civilization’s fires die out. In terms of a one-man show for Efron, however, it provides too little dramatic flair to show he has a range beyond his pretty-boy charms. The film’s scope and setting are too barren to give Efron that opportunity.

There is genuine warmth and heart to the central relationship, and the script is occasionally funny, though it draws smiles more than laughs. But it's hard to see, beyond the gender swap, what LaBruce is saying here that Hal Ashby didn't cover more definitively four decades ago.

With a unique blend of style and content, an escalating discomfort in atmosphere, a score that sounds like it was spawned from the nether regions of hell, and three ferocious performances, Hungry Hearts is this year’s most unique horror film.

Tolkien is an unfortunately typical biopic riddled with obvious influences and ham-fisted thematic hypocrisy, but it is effective in capturing the moral consequences key to the humanity of Tolkien’s masterpiece.

It’s as if Weitz knows he’s got a corpse of a film on his hands -- never trust a movie when it feels as though you can see the director clasping the defibrillator.

Quantumania is not all dud, per se. Even if it’s not as comical or entertaining as usual, there is a good cast involved here, Kathryn Newton is a welcome edition, and Paul Rudd can’t help but elevate sub-par material. But otherwise, Quantumania is shockingly unremarkable.

Where King of Thieves fails its heralded cast is in its shifts in tone. We’ve been promised a fun ride with Caine in the driver’s seat, but the trip goes downhill too quickly.

While Jolt largely fades from memory after watching it, it’s also a difficult movie to dislike. Wexler’s film is breezy, self-aware, occasionally quite funny, and without its end credits, it runs a tight 83 minutes.

Boldness and ambition may get the best of the film, but just like Booksmart, which announced the promising beginning of an intriguing directorial voice, Wilde proves she’s not a one-hit-wonder, at least technically and artistically. Don’t Worry Darling may be a misstep, but Wilde’s still got a flair for cinema that feels worth keeping an eye on.

For all its faults – both in its construction and the execution of its themes – I Feel Pretty still manages to be fun in the moment. It’s sweet and silly with a scene-stealing performance from Williams, but it ultimately could learn from its own lessons. It’s not confident enough in its central premise, leaving the audience wanting something more.

Credit where credit is due, Sacrifice ultimately made me seriously consider the prospect of death while watching it. However, this mostly came from a desire for it all to end so we no longer had to keep enduring the inescapably vapid and shallow film unraveling before us.

Up until the very very end (which uncorks a CLASSIC cop cliché that seemed long dead by now), The Sweeney is straight dumb procedural, no chaser.

The Mountain Between Us isn’t a bad movie, overall. The scenery’s gorgeous, the two leads are enormously appealing, and nothing about the dialogue or visual style particularly grates. This is an easy picture to watch… and to root for, in a way, because it’s so rarely overbearing. But it’s only ever mildly engaging.

It’s rare to see a comedy so devoted to pacing and so concerned with driving to a satisfying conclusion.

Lords Of Chaos is more interested in the spectacle than the substance behind the true story, and that kind of phoniness likely wouldn’t even get the film or Åkerlund invited into The Black Circle.

You might not feel the need to attend church this Sunday after the credits roll, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself praying for your time back.

Sure, Godzilla: King of the Monsters fulfills its promise of Titans and destruction, but at the cost of the plot, characters, and emotional investment. You know, the things that actually make a film good.

The filmmaker clearly has great skills and a knack for pulling strong performances out of actors. But the tone-deaf misjudgment of the film’s second half is catastrophic.

The silent scenes, which hold so much power in the first act, feel emptier and emptier, as the conclusion nears. Moments where Halpern’s score felt like it was adding to what was on screen, turn to moments where it’s compensating for the lack of interest.

Ultimately, Dellal’s film is never as brave or courageous as Ray, and in spending more time on Maggie than her son, misses the opportunity to jump from informational to insightful.

Sonic the Hedgehog might nail the outrageous energy and outlandish hyperactivity of the video game, but it’s the effective and poignant force of friendship that truly powers this video game adaptation to level’d up triumph.

MI-5 is no action b-movie classic, but it manages to weave a complex and compelling narrative knot, mix in some absorbing musings about the nature of doing right and following orders, and pack in some nail-biting shoot outs.

It can be said, with some certainty, that ‘Fantastic Beasts’ has finally found its footing. This latest entry is the most fun and most buoyant in the relatively young series. And it’s enough to make you actually look forward to a subsequent installment (should there be one) instead of actively dreading it.

Overall, this is an action-comedy that should be as full of laughs as it is explosions (So. Many. Explosions.), but there’s little joy other than letting Mirren be (super) sexy and Malkovich deliver a few good lines.

Night at the Museum was always the best when it was closest to complete anarchy, tapping into the zippy, good-natured malevolence of filmmakers like Joe Dante, but here that energy is gone, replaced by a kind of sleepy noncommittal attitude. The magic has dried up; the museum is closed forever.

Crafted with exquisite care in the vein of its subject, though it occasionally feels overly precious (criticism that might be leveled at the restaurant itself by its detractors).

Visual daring is nice, but it means little in the end when the ultimately safe and harmless story never rocks the boat.

What keeps “Jimpa” from collapsing on itself is Colman’s steady turn (don’t forget, she’s so talented she was the only compelling aspect of Marvel Studios’ disastrous “Secret Invasion”) and Matthew Chuang’s wonderfully lush cinematography.

Penn’s admiration for Zelensky, the people of Ukraine, and their unified commitment to democracy is sincere, but Superpower is so stupid a film it’s galling to watch.

A Cure For Wellness is an exercise in watching a film continually stifle itself at its most compelling moments.

To call Aggro Dr1ft stupid or silly isn’t wrong, but it is missing the point. The dialogue is incredibly banal and hilariously repetitive, the story a thin assemblage of clichés. But the images!

Jack Reacher: Never Go Back isn’t a throwaway, and mainstream action/thriller fans should come out more than satisfied at the visceral nature of the film. But anyone hoping for more than a superficial on-the-run chase movie will probably wish Reacher had stayed home, instead of going back.

That The Dressmaker remains watchable in any sense is thanks in large part to a cast who give the material that’s way beneath them far better treatment than it deserves.

Young Ones and its serious, bone-dry approach won’t be for everyone. The picture is languidly paced, but its ideas, moods and tones strike many thought-provoking chords.

And the score, again by Carpenter, his son Cody Carpenter, and Daniel Davies, is another banger, often lapping the action onscreen for mood and dread. It almost becomes a provocation, forcing us to long for more active involvement by Carpenter, a filmmaker whose skill and restraint frankly puts Green to shame. Who knows if Halloween Ends will actually conclude the slasher series (let’s not forget that “Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter” was the fourth of twelve installments). But I’ll say this: even as a fan of the franchise, when the title came up at the end of Halloween Ends, I found myself hoping to God they weren’t kidding.

While The Town That Dreaded Sundown is ambitious and supremely weird, it fails to cohere into something more resonant.

Black Flies offers plenty of nihilistic entertainment. But don’t be too tempted to look for any depth in a film far too comfortable in the formulaic confines.

Marionette is a bit less than the sum of its individual parts. Still, for the first half of its runtime, the film is sufficiently compelling.

Abraham the writer lets down Abraham the director, and ultimately lets down his stars and Spinotti, too.

It’s not an easy movie to love and it’s not an easy movie to hate either. It’s annoyingly, persistently just okay.

There are some chills to be had here, but they taper out exactly when the action should really be ratcheting up, and the film’s tension burns out so quickly that it might as well have been sucked into an inter-dimensional portal of its own.

It's mythmaking for dummies, a Hercules with no poetry, only incompetent brute strength.

It’s easier to make pandering jokes about how liberals can’t break through to working-class white voters than actually put in the work to understand their full humanity. Without such effort, Stewart does not just repeat the mistakes of his characters. He magnifies them.

For all its simplicity, Boy Kills World does pull off a pretty neat narrative switcheroo late in the game that completely turns the film over its head and significantly alters the stakes. Think of it as a secret level unlocked after you think you’ve reached the end of the game.

All of the young actors are committed, and director Dean Israelite has a good handle on the material, offering his own contributions to the time travel genre (like how violent the act itself is) while continually tipping his hat to what came before it.

Overstuffed yet trite and empty, Fort McCoy attempts to mix heavy drama, slapstick comedy and romance all in the wrappings of a coming of age tale set in the summer of 1944, but flounders on all fronts, resulting in a picture that offers a rather naive and simplistic view of the murky territory between good and evil.

Hamm makes himself look bland, which is no small accomplishment. But he’s also smothering much of what makes him an exciting actor.

A need for speed works for Sonic the character, not “Sonic The Hedgehog” the franchise itself. The film never feels like it’s thinking beyond the next laugh line. It’s so caught up in the adrenaline rush of the present moment that Sonic The Hedgehog 2 completely loses sight of the endgame.

Even in a future bereft of new ideas, it’s fun to watch Noomi Rapace act against herself six times over and her game performances in the midst of fast-paced action make What Happened to Monday? a mostly enjoyable thriller.

At this point, the Monsterverse needs the much simpler, dumb-fun, pleasurable joy of “Kong: Skull Island” because ‘New Empire,’ just ain’t cutting it beyond loud and senseless brawls that aren’t even a delight to watch.

It'll get your blood pumping, before it starts spilling down your forehead.

While the execution may be somewhat of a misfire, the obvious effort and thought put into making the concept work is worthy.

So the story is relentlessly rudimentary and it’s directed in an expected, uncomplicated, formulaic manner.