It’s no shame that this thriller isn’t even in the top pantheon of Lee joints, as he refers to them. The man has some masterpieces on his resume. It might be in Washington’s, however. He’s so viscerally engaging that you want to see the movie again just to enjoy his performance.

Urchin puts forward a sensitive, promising director. And an even more promising writer.

This pleasingly mellow portrait of a bunch of kids making movies is also an instance of defanged nostalgia — when it was an occasion to highlight the economic, political, cultural circumstances that made this kind of creativity possible.

All of Mendonça Filho’s aesthetic, genre proclivities, and ideological concerns coalesce in this larger period canvas.

The Phoenician Scheme, for all its involved branches, never really comes together deeply or meaningfully. Still, it remains charming and entertaining nonetheless.

Despite its title, it’s unable or unwilling to surrender itself to being more than just another celebrity documentary.

No one is more seen in The Chronology of Water than Poots, who allows herself to be consumed with the urgency and hunger of Lidia.

For all its sprawling ambition, Schilinski’s sophomore feature is most effective and moving on a human scale. A dissociative film, it recreates the febrile sensation of a mind splintered by too many painful truths, which continue to linger in the body long after they’ve vanished from memory.

When they can translate something into a tangible sensation, like the camera effects of focus that take viewers into Piper’s distorted field of vision, the film operates within a comfortable range for the directors. Where they struggle to locate resonance is in the emotional realm.

Friendship is awe-inspiringly twisted by the end, a jaw-droppingly comical tale of tragedy, even. But it is masterfully rendered; the rare movie seemingly built from a sketch series turned into a genuinely riotously amusing and f*cked movie that still has the sense to comment on the dark and totally warped corners of the human condition.

‘Final Reckoning’ might not be the perfect note to end this elaborate action symphony on, but as a sustained chord of passionate peril, intrigue, friendship and the wrenching expenses of keeping the world safe, hell, you could still do a lot worse.

If ever there existed a checklist of Food Movie Must-Dos, Nonnas tries to accomplish each, even down to that signature campfire-esque moment between the four nonnas as they bond over backroom drinks following a night on the town, and while no one can fault director Stephen Chbosky from trying to nail it all, nothing beyond that exists to render this particular story as anything other than average.

There’s hardly enough of a story to be told, and that which does exist has seen itself played out prior in far too many better films, both inside such a specific genre and beyond.

The dedication on behalf of everyone who makes up this cast helps what’s already tremendously unoriginal to, at minimum, warrant a watch.

Thunderbolts* isn’t an MCU game-changer, by any stretch, but it’s not aspiring to be either. Is it a two-hour therapy session about self-compassion, being kind to ourselves, and giving ourselves a break from all the transgressions we have tortured ourselves about, wrapped up in a comic book movie? Maybe, but it’s got a big heart, a strong emotional point of view, a good sense of humor when needed, and has something touching to say about forgiving ourselves enough to transform our pain into something that can do good, and that feels like a small but meaningful victory to me.

Evans at least provides enjoyable pandemonium in Havoc, which is not a perfect film by any means, but certainly more worthy than some of the Netflix originals that aren’t delayed and are delivered at your streaming front door immediately.

Sadly, even for the biggest supporter of everything action has had to offer genre-lovers for decades, “G20” remains hard to recommend, as much as it hits those recognizable beats and with its Oscar winner attempting to lead the charge towards the end credits.

All of the elements of impressive craft blend to make a wholly unique concoction, a bloody, eerie, creepy and yet thoughtful and emotional exploitation movie about demons, ghosts, black magic and haunted things.

At the very least, the skillful film generally doesn’t insult the audiences intelligence and generally is a lot smarter and sharper than most mainstream moves in cineplexes these days.

Pulpy and silly, while still having Hitchcockian levels of taut tension and suspense, this first-date-gone-wrong thriller may not be logically coherent, but it’s still self-aware of itself enough and its outrageous moments that it still manages to be a relatively fun diversion despite its inherent inanities.

As Frankie, Mastroianni carries the film, and what could be considered an emotionless expression she wears nonstop carries far more than one realizes as the events unfold and whatever exists in Frankie’s life starts to unravel.

The Falling Sky, in some ways, is also a time travel movie, as we get to peek into the past and see ourselves in people for whom time has stood still.

Michael Angarano’s introduction to the cinematic world as a filmmaker is a promising effort and a reminder that those whom we hold dear in our hearts is a story that never passes away.

Warfare may sharply communicate what it’s like to be under fire, and those looking for bruising action will be exhilarated by the electricity it generates. But anyone asking for some complexity beyond these are the boys that answered the call to go to war will be left decidedly SOL.

White interjecting its social commentary, “Snow White” otherwise tackles much of the same ideas—the notions of true love, the power of friendship, and the triumph of good over evil—but it’s all put together in a very familiar and garish package. The fairest in the land? Far from it.

It’s a simple yet effectively haunting work that’s well-shot, written, and acted across the board, especially for a first feature that takes on as much as this does.

Taut yet thoroughly laced with levity, Black Bag plays like the filmic equivalent of a skillfully executed espionage mission in how tight and exact it feels.

Alas, boilerplate could best describe the events of Control Freak, despite the genuine commitment of Tran and Robbins, particularly with both oozing chemistry and dedication to whatever routine setup the movie provides next.