A monstrous return to form, similar to its placement in the timeline, “Alien: Romulus” nestles in the franchise’s top three podium position. The blood, sweat, and tears shed in bringing this vision to fruition weren’t in vain.

There’s emotional complexity, making it work for more than just its key demo.

While lacking the surprise and simplicity of the original “Frozen,” the sequel is still largely wonderful in its own right. It fearlessly transforms the original characters and even its own storytelling format, eschewing the familiar for something grander and more complex.

The differences between Goat and a Very Special Episode of some Disney Channel sitcom are, at times, limited to the amount of on-screen puking. That said, Neel, Roberts, and Green do have a good feel for the vagaries of bro culture’s macho codes.

It’s all fun and murder games (until it’s not), but something is missing. “Maxxxine” feels a bit emptier than the first two installments. Goth is quite good at reprising the role, but Maxine is sort of already a fully-baked character.

Headland doesn’t entirely subvert the romantic comedy genre here, but she certainly has fun twisting up some of its most obvious tropes for a little added pizzazz and some major laughs.

Despite the A-list team all returning for the sequel, the frisson is gone, and Enola Holmes 2 feels much more elementary, primary, and uninspired.

The 90-minute film feels shallow and, while Rosi has a good eye, not especially cinematic.

Gaia is a weird damn movie, but Bouwer’s filmmaking centers the weirdness so well that once it subsides, we remain assured that we’re on firm ground.

Day of the Fight does not break the mold of the boxing movie, but it does not set out to do so. An homage to a kind of cinema that isn’t made much anymore, it signals a director who understands that a filmmaker does not need a huge budget or a complicated story to make a good film.

Moreso than any other movie in the back half of Marvel’s first decade, it’s tough to shake the feeling that Captain Marvel is an extended prologue to a story that is still off on the horizon. This character has the potential to be Marvel’s answer to Superman, with all the questions about power and ethics that implies, but her story is rushed here, and sometimes forced.

It often seems as though Hikari is being pulled toward a prespective that is simply not Japanese enough to provide a true cultural perspective. But, more importantly, Hikari knows how to push enough emotional buttons without the audience sensing they are being manipulated. And, for many, those talents mean Rental Family will lead to genuine tears.

The film will interest school and college athletes and their families as “Unstoppable” ably captures that experience.

For a film so fixated on provoking fear and dread through the medium of audio, it’s naturally strongest when it does not bother to stimulate the eyes at all.

It's unfortunate that commercial considerations seem to play into the third act, adding a more concrete representation of a very abstract idea.

It's an ambitious attempt to meld the kind of social realism that made the names of Andrea Arnold and Clio Barnard with a stripped-down genre thriller, an attempt that's only moderately successful, though it suggests Wolfe is a filmmaker of real promise.

Confess, Fletch is an absolute pleasure – the mystery is a corker, and I giggled from beginning to end.

Quartet is a hard film to dislike entirely, thanks principally to the charms of its cast.

Adam is a small movie, but it still feels like a big step forward for trans representation in film, which has lagged behind gay and lesbian progress made on screen in the last few decades. It’s as imperfect as its hero, but there’s still something to root for here.

Constantine captures the invigorating joy of these songs, and humorously shows that it is nearly impossible to listen and not feel the urge to dance.

There should be more films like Fast Color. Movies that demonstrate that you don’t need a giant budget or decades of established IP to do superhero or sci-fi well on the big screen.

Meet Me in the Bathroom feels like a surface-level music documentary with little mindfulness for creative expression or the shades of reality outside the fame of its subjects.

Like the kimchi stew it prominently features, this is comfort food at its best. Given its origins, it should feel like something out of a lab, but this is a charming crowd-pleaser in the best sense.

Both McConaughey and Ferrera’s characters embody the idea of an everyday hero: perhaps imperfect but unselfishly stepping up to help others in a time of crisis. While the movie’s artifice makes it a thrilling watch, its real-life inspiration is equally just as moving.

The film never returns to the strength of its opening scene, and by the end, the spark is gone.

A clever assemblage of archival and historical material that unfortunately doesn't quite go far enough.

It’s bold, beautifully told, and surprisingly funny.

While Bombshell cumulatively paints an accurate portrait of the culture of silence that enables male entitlement against women they see as expandable, it seems unsure of the right way to handle conservative hypocrisies perpetuating that very toxicity.