As a filmmaker, Yeung has a keen eye for the quiet spaces where two people can learn more about each other than if they were holding a wordy conversation. If the director could just find a way to balance against his ho-hum dialogue and plotting, Front Cover would make more of an impression, instead of being the sweet but ultimately forgettable film that it is.

With a weak script and underwhelming performances, there’s nothing about the film to latch onto or celebrate, but there’s just enough craftsmanship on display to walk away not feeling like it’s a complete failure.

Suicide Squad isn’t a terrible movie per se and judged against its forbearer, ‘Batman v Superman,’ it resembles a shining beacon of coherence. But Suicide Squad isn’t a very good movie either, a mediocre effort with commonplace ideas of rebelliousness and salvation.

From a purely objective standpoint, the film’s pacing sags at times, and its energy deflates, as is so often the case in trying to turn a chronological story into a cohesive narrative. But above all, Steve’s spirit soars.

Embers attempts to be a complicated dissection of a possible world not too far ahead of us, but it lacks the imagination to make us soar along with its vision.

There’s no denying Jones’ magnetism, her amazing spirit and her otherworldly talent, and “Miss Sharon Jones!” is a fine tribute to her as an individual. But it leaves you wanting more — more from her history and rich backstory. It’s clear the whole story hasn’t been told — yet.

The trick the director pulls off is that “Lace Crater” weaves a comedic touch throughout the film, keeps the audience compellingly off balance when it pitches toward horror, and puts together a picture that slyly has much more going on beneath its laid back surface.

Though he gets fine performances from many quarters...the film is scuppered by an approach that sees it build on the bones of the novel without ever quite animating its heart.

It flails for the heartstrings, but instead of reaching them, it only tugs at that muscle that makes you roll your eyes at its old-fashioned, melodramatic attempts at emotion.

Bad Moms could easily skate along only on its very funny, often very raunchy jokes, but it also makes a much-needed argument for the difficulties of modern motherhood and how the pressure to be perfect is damaging both mothers and their kids.

It’s a lovely film that resonates all the more so in a summer of louder, more cluttered movies, and knowing that Disney had the confidence to allow Lowery’s vision to flourish is the icing on the cake.

Containing not one single jump scare, but building a disquieting atmosphere of dread that leads us to make some brilliantly gruesome inferences, it’s a classy take on the often trashy pregnancy horror category, with a subtle social critique underlying its neo-gothic texture.

As inviting as it is immersive and convivial, Nerve is bumpy, sloppy and rather unsophisticated, but it’s also ultimately sociable, warm, endearing and, most of all, pretty fun.

For all its problems, Bourne is still thrilling and an undoubtedly engrossing action film thanks to its taut construction.

London Road, on stage and celluloid, is an experiment likely to fall flat outside of the most devoted of cinephiles (and theatergoers), but an exciting one nonetheless, even if only for its boldness.

Despite presenting an environment enriched to weapons-grade plutonium levels with potential for interpersonal drama, Vinterberg can’t seem to find any.

It might not be as risk-taking as previous Shainberg gems, but his knack for expertly crafted drama remains.

As The Gods Will is a minor film from a major talent, but few middle of the road efforts from directors manage to retain the kind of wholly original sensibility seen here, and have as much fun as Miike is while doing it.

Even if it does shy away from harsher truths, Branciforte’s inaugural feature is a joy to watch.

The difference between Lights Out and any other mainstream horror movie is that it actually uses the dark as the center of its plot, organically drawing out the majority of its jump scares in the process.

For all the film’s faults, Saunders and Lumley still bring an addictive energy to the screen that finds you wanting more.

Unsentimentally romantic, there’s enough grace in Summertime to keep you enraptured.

Sometimes silly, outlandish, and sentimental in its fan service-y callbacks, Star Trek Beyond and its sense of entertaining urgency often trumps its insubstantial qualities, as illogical as that may be.

For the Plasma immediately throws its viewer into the deep end. Unique beyond measure, its mumblecore, indie affectation is contradicted by a bold ambition in the form of big, complex ideas which don’t always make sense in reality, but pave the way for some interesting insights.

Though its verité aesthetics are often more serviceable than inspired, and its vague who-what-where-when-why set-up neuters some of its lingering impact, the film’s depiction of entrenched prejudice remains astutely realized.

The film is a mostly workmanlike biopic that unfortunately can never match the energy of the subject it’s trying to capture.

In trying to include as much as it does, ‘Outlaws’ finds itself as more of tonal soup than a cohesive narrative feature.

Haemoo is a picture worth seeing for its thrills, scrupulous tension-building and mischievous genre twists that will have you gasping one second, and laughing the next.