Though philosophically unsatisfying in the sum of its parts—it’s a murky mirror—“Nope” remains thoroughly exhilarating as further proof of Peele’s affinity for pushing the increasingly narrow limits of commercial cinema. It’s imperfectly refreshing.

Though heartbreaking to watch, if not triggering, Aftershock remains essential viewing as it reveals another, underseen front in the unending battle for equality in the United States.

The structure here is not about conventional pay-offs, and it does give Don’t Make Me Go its own distinct feeling, however familiar its pieces.

As a showcase of her creative process, as well as a dive into the repetition of touring, it’s a loving tribute to the artist and an invitation to listen to more of her music.

With Krige as its anchor, She Will offers moments of true greatness – and a few pointed barbs at ageism and patriarchal history, too. But as the two sides of Ghent are thrust uneasily together, Colbert struggles to sustain the pulsing rhythm at the heart of the film.

The beloved characters constructed by Austen are rendered insipid in this retelling that can’t quite seem to find its footing, trapped between a desire to dip into hip modernism and an inherent pull towards the original material.

The plot moves as briskly as a ship sailing across the sea, which should please young viewers. While The Sea Beast has some timely messages, it’s mainly just a chance to escape from our living rooms.

While it has its moments, a few good laughs, a few impressive thriller sequences, and Evans with his delectably douchey little trash stash, “The Gray Man” is generally an unremarkable swing and miss that wants the best of both worlds, but can’t really thread that needle.

There is minimal tension in spite of clear stakes, but because we never get closer to Kya than arm’s length, it never seems like she’s in any real danger. We are meant to side with her and empathize with her as the abused, underdog outsider in that fact of character alone. Nothing appears to simmer below the surface, and everything rings hollow because of it.

Thor: Love & Thunder can be enjoyable in spots, but disposably and inconsequentially so.

This movie, a forgettable indie aside from who directed it, offers sentiment, and its existence. That’s about it. Whether one is revolted or delighted by another C.K. production, Fourth of July is a dud.

Its soundtrack is enjoyable, and Dosunmu’s work with director of photography Benoît Delhomme is pleasing to the eye. However, the slightness and muddled storytelling of Beauty mar a film which at times feels it has something to say.

This notion, of the supervillain antihero and the gibberish-spouting minions who serve him, remains an awfully thin premise to hang a movie on – much less five of them.

The Man from Toronto could have been sharper with much more care all around, but a glaring problem comes from how Hughes isn’t a funny filmmaker. He might have the self-awareness to slap his name on a food processing plant that hosts the movie’s climactic kill, but his sense of making an action scene comedic is seriously lacking.

A rich, old-fashioned story spun out of modern themes and postmodern storytelling, this film’s decade-long, country-wide examination of art, life, love, and, yes, illusion, has the kind of tone that brings to mind “The Sweet Smell of Success.” It’s a film of smirks and surprises, not least of which is that director Giannoli has taken this material and given it a tragic spin.

While not exactly revolutionary in its construction, Hepner and Mossman have nevertheless crafted a grounded and realistic look into how biotech companies, and human trials, operate.

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On locates a world of wonder inside our drawers, under our noses, within our grasp – and enables viewers with the tools to both access and appreciate it.

Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe maintains and respects the legacy of the classic MTV show. It hits all the same beats, delivers what people will be looking for, and smoothly weaves in social and cultural references from the 90s and today without feeling ham-fisted or forced. It’s hard to say whether this feature will win them any new fans because, as enjoyable as it is, it’s not their finest hour (and 40 minutes).

The performances solidly do the job of moving things along, but as game, as they are, Belgau’s screenplay offers the actors few options to work around its creaky dialogue.

With a script this sharp and performances this game, it’s a shame that the basic filmmaking doesn’t do anything visually to elevate the film further.

Bolstered by tone-perfect performances from all three of the leads, and a script that hides larger themes within the body of the narrative like vegetables in mashed potatoes, Wild Men hits with the force and precision of an arrow fired from Martin’s homemade bow. And while the tone of the film toys with the absurd, what it has to say about masculinity, regret, and what it means to belong is anything but.

While the story beats may not be surprising, Poser still acts as an impressive debut for not only the directors but also Mix and Kitten, who create a simmering tension between them.

Rasoulof’s film, while understandably angry, is nothing if not singleminded . It’s a saturnine morality tale that unfolds in shades of rainy gray beneath leaden, overcast skies, gritting up the nation’s cinematic tradition of humanist drama to an almost unrecognizable degree.

It’s tempting to take it easy on Alone Together, because harsh criticism feels somewhat cruel – it’s just such a gosh-darned nice movie, about two nice people who meet up and are nice to each other. But this is one tepid piece of work, a story of bland people doing and saying bland things as the world burns around them.

Rather misjudged dips into the realm of fantasy likewise fail to lift up proceedings, but Rodeo is at its best when it stays down to earth, close to the pavement.

Ultimately, neither Squire nor Roberts nor Gallagher Jr. really puts a foot wrong in this movie, but that’s chiefly because the whole thing is standing still.

While the first hour or so is compelling, the problem with The Policeman’s Lineage isn’t so much the fact that it’s an amalgamation of various genres and tropes, but more that there is little coherency when the film transitions between them, creating a feeling of whiplash.

Following Pixar’s two most refreshing releases in years, “Luca” and “Turning Red,” both of which were deemed unworthy of a full theatrical release, it’s difficult not to perceive “Lightyear” as a far less compelling and safe bet. How tiresome it is that most studio productions must now exist as part of a larger multiverse in order to merit exposure. In the end, “Lightyear” reveals that today, given Disney’s business model, “to infinity and beyond” really only means to the inevitable sequel.