What makes the movie sing, as with its predecessors, is its sweetness. Five movies in, it’s still poignant to think about toys having a relationship with their children, loving them and trying to keep them safe in an ever-changing world.

Sonomura’s fight choreography blends seamlessly with Meteor Cheung’s fluid cinematography; long, circular takes capture the action in full, and Sonomura stages sequences that utilize every star’s unique fighting style while also finding a rhythm and flow among the different practices.

Dosa’s film shouts loud and true, giving it a strong chance at enduring — even as it remains painfully aware there is no guarantee anything, no matter how much we love it, lasts forever.

Disclosure Day isn’t really about the action, exemplary as it is; it’s about connection — human and otherwise — and about Margaret and Daniel slowly realizing what they know, and how they can use that knowledge for good.

The new message is nice, but the most crucial element is the carefully calibrated tone, of light irony and deep reverence, which will appeal to Gen X and elder millennials, who have developed a nostalgic, yet winking appreciation for the material.

A triumph of cinematography, editing, production design and visual effects, you almost wonder whether Parsons may have ventured into the real backrooms to shoot his film.

Funny, occasionally raunchy and dressed in a deliciously rainbow-bright array of costumes, Boots Riley’s fizzy caper “I Love Boosters” is just the thing for summer.

Fan service all the way with this one, though it would have benefited from less slam bang and more humor. However, fans will probably love it.

Barker has a knack for jump scares — and for making a wildly fanciful story feel real.

What really lingers after The Sheep Detectives is its tone: earnest, uncomplicated sweetness, rooted in the love that we — whether human or sheep — have for those with whom we share our lives, and a gentle acceptance of loss as part of that love.

Like the shadows dancing on their home, the film is overwhelmingly beautiful and agonizingly incomplete, a refraction of a refraction of a time that has now long since passed. It’s a work of rich layers that offers something new each time you watch.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 gives us a lot to look at, and Hathaway and Blunt in particular are a pleasure (they have a scene together, late in the film, that’s almost worth the ticket price right there), but it’s flat Champagne: maybe worth drinking in a pinch, but unsatisfying.

It’s faithful to the book without being overly devout, asking a multitude of deeper, more probing questions while reflecting on the same unsettling and existentialist ones that the book did. By the time it closes with its unexpectedly mournful yet gently searing final frames, reinterpreting and expanding on the enduring source material one final time, it names all that Camus did not.

The irony and meaninglessness of the violence rankles, especially when Ulysses is presented as such a nice guy who is prone to de-escalation and community care in his day-to-day work.

Yes, this is a standard rom-com, in all the best of ways — both playing with the genre’s well-trodden tropes, and letting us enjoy how much fun they can be.

It makes for an entertaining watch in which the attention to detail in every technical element helps smooth over the scattered and superficial story’s many residual shortcomings.

The film doesn’t have much to say about its central questions, and its ending feels inevitable but also unearned.

The prime attraction of this movie, and its predecessor, is that it envelopes the audience in the Mario world. Every square inch of the screen, from top to bottom, corner to corner, is packed with images derived from the game. Easter eggs abound. Watching it is akin being inside the 2007 Super Mario Galaxy game itself. Which is why it needs to be seen on the big screen. Seeing it on a phone or a laptop wouldn’t do it justice.

Both Weaving and Newton do great horror-comedy work, by turns beleaguered and enraged, and share some genuinely sweet, funny moments as they repair their relationship.

Byrne, a recent Oscar nominee for “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You,” holds it together.

By the time the film turns into this unusual buddy adventure, it is an absolute joy, the pair putting their big brains to the task at hand and playfully ribbing each other as they go.

In channeling his creative resources toward the sound of “Undertone,” Tuason conjures a lot out of a simple concept — a girl in a house. The marriage of this sound design to thoughtful, carefully placed camera movements makes for a horror film that’s a suspenseful slow burn.

What keeps Hoppers from drifting into Pollyanna-ish sensibility is its charming spikiness, and embrace of the weird, wacky and witty as it unfurls a high-tech action thriller about a strange, if brief, merging of the human and animal worlds.

More coming-of-age than love story, “Pillion” finds joy in Colin’s journey of learning who he truly is. His road there is a little bumpy — like riding on the back of a motorcycle — and it may be a path less traveled, but it’s a worthwhile one all the same.

Powell’s charm, along with some fun rich-person interiors (there’s a library near the end that gives a stellar performance), does a lot to get “How to Make a Killing” to the finish line. But you may well lose interest, as I did, before the murder countdown concludes; this one feels more like a rough draft than a truly well-thought-out movie.

This Wuthering Heights is a mess, but an occasionally irresistible one.

The Moment works best when examining the creative tensions between people with different agendas, the small passive-aggressive tensions and second-guessing generating the ripples of conflict. But perhaps Zamiri felt those stakes were too small.

Critically, the film’s many revelations aren’t neat and tidy, but they are revealing in all the ways that matter.