Dazzling in form and a chase film at its heart, Ready Player One is exhilarating, but it also can’t sit still. Fitting to the content perhaps, the movie still arguably suffers from troublesome A.D.D. with its hyper fast cutting and its tendency to wander narratively.

A thrilling, near-silent film that brilliantly toys with the audience’s nerves while deftly avoiding familiar cliches, Krasinski shows a surprisingly assured and suspenseful touch within the horror genre.

They are tough and necessary questions that make Take Your Pills, for all its dizzying energy, a grounded and rigorous film. Though at times, it feels too squeamish to lean all the way into an idea or too hard on a particular truth, which makes it feel too deliberate and maybe not quite the earnest dissection it could be.

Journey’s End is about as good an adaptation as you can imagine of the material, and a film with compassion and humanity that goes far beyond its perhaps uncompromisingly prestige-y exterior.

Featuring a fittingly shallow funk-lite score by Christophe Beck, Gringo, is ultimately like a Taco Bell version of the ‘90s crime genre; tasteless, cheaply made and just as inauthentic.

Earnestly aiming to land with the weight of an Important Film married with Big Ideas, the more Submergence tries and strains to find connections to contemporary issues, the more those beats ring hollow. “Submergence” not only leaves the talent involved underwater, but the audience also longs for anything of significance to cling to.

Leto, with his whispery dialogue and complete lack of emotional range, fails to register on any level. While the film itself feels straight out of a Robert McKee seminar, as each twist and turn is telegraphed so blatantly, that it’s hard to see what Leto, who can be a good actor when he’s not too busy going all “method,” saw in it.

Despite its strong performances, notably from Reid, Pine, and Witherspoon, its wide collection of marvels and it’s joyful sense of self, A Wrinkle in Time crumbles under expectations. But it’s not so much a failure as it’s a flawed do-gooder that could make our world better. It doesn’t dazzle like the stars and it doesn’t transport us away, but it still offers hope.

With its politically charged themes of oppression and the genocide of Native Americans, and the play on how history has been presented in the past, Mohawk is a fascinating and engaging tale of bloody revenge.

Chappaquiddick hardly lands with the power of an exposé, and doesn’t bite hard enough to spur a reconsideration of the Kennedys. The film revives a chapter in Kennedy history, but what it means nearly forty years later is never quite clear.

The film’s best stability through all of these shifts is Willis who, while he could do a role like this in his sleep (and has), commands the screen and reminds us why he became an above-the-marquee star in the first place.

Love, Simon is filled with details and specificity, making Simon’s story feel real and authentic in each moment, from the music he listens to to the costumes seen at a Halloween party, elevating it above what could have been the after school special version of the same story.

The primary characteristic of Nostalgia is that it’s deathly boring, and difficult to sit through in its entirety.

While there are a few intriguing themes and ideas at play in The Vanishing of Sidney Hall, once the viewer perseveres through the over-editing the final product is disappointing.

There is a more polemic, thought-provoking work somewhere in 7 Days in Entebbe, held hostage by its commercial appeal.

Mute is in desperate need of a firmer hand. Once upon a time, that hand might have been Jones’. Now he’s invisible in his own pastiche.

Game Night is a winner, plain and simple. Brisk and engaging (and surprisingly powered by a score from Cliff Martinez that’s expectedly great), this is a comedy that’s worth rolling the dice on.

Ergüven’s sophomore film is a tonal disaster, jerking from shrill melodrama to screwball comedy and always at the most inappropriate of moments.

Freyne obviously intends all this as a grand allegory for refugee crises/immigration politics, but the logic applied to anti-immigration politics simply does not apply to anti-Cured politics. The allegory doesn’t track, and neither does the movie’s internal logic.

The problem with Dosunmu’s follow-up to the more compelling “Mother Of George” is that there is so little story — and what story there is moves at such a snail’s pace — that all you have to look at are Young’s impressive compositions and then you wait…and then wait some more.

Topicality is not mandatory, and it’s clear the agenda here is for salacious genre thrills rather than anything deeper or more profound, but when the film’s form is such an embrace of modernity, it feels like cognitive dissonance to have the story skew so old-fashioned.

Annihilation is mesmerizing and its awe-inspiring conclusion will leave your mind blown and splattered against the wall. In its final, surreal biopsychological moments the movie goes to an astonishing interstellar gear.

Vacillating between a playful comedy and a brooding melodrama, it’s a wonderful example of how one can work within the confines of homage yet emerge with a unique work in its own right.

While it’s Lawrence’s most mature and relatively subtle effort to date, it’s also, unfortunately, a slog. The director’s well-intentioned patience ultimately means nothing when its interminable pacing makes the movie feel twice as protracted as its longwinded, two-hour-plus running time.

It would serve its audience better if it paid more attention to a stronger structure and a believable plot, but its flaws don’t keep it from being affecting for those who like their love stories on the lachrymose side.

As beautiful as the picture is, the pleasures of Early Man are fleeting. Aardman’s own high bar isn’t quite reached this time around, and it might be best to temper your expectations.

As far as representation goes, the stunning, brimful, extraordinary Isle of Dogs can’t really be said to do anyone’s culture a disservice. Except cat lovers, who should probably mount a boycott.

Looking Glass is a hybrid Coen-pastiche and wacky Nic Cage B-movie.