The Duelist isn’t deep enough for the viewer to attempt to draw meaning from beneath its glam surface, but it’s still interesting to watch the film as a look at where Russia is at as a nation.

Pet is scariest when exploiting our social fears of being rejected, and at its worst when playing some psychological switcheroo in a Saw-like basement.

With the best will in the world, audiences looking to enjoy some festive movie moments this year, should avoid Christmas at the Campbells and opt for anything else. Not even the presence of Long should factor into the decision because honestly, he looks like he would rather be anywhere else but on screen.

This time around, Denzel’s “Equalizer” is less of a Robin Hood-like hero for the helpless, and more of a Travis Bickle-like vigilante, shooting his way through a murder caper that has neither the incentive nor the heart of its already forgettable precursor.

Fifty Shades Darker is a befuddling, messy erotic "thriller" that shifts tones faster than audiences can keep up with.

It’s a flawed, frustrating film made even more lackluster by its failure to explore its own weighty themes and its apparent refusal to connect those themes to its story and characters.

Less is almost always more, but the creative freedom afforded by Netflix must have meant that the director, co-writer, and producer didn’t feel obligated to leave much on the cutting room floor. As a result, The Bubble throws everything and the kitchen sink into the mix, but very little of it manages to stick.

Moonfall is every bit as big, loud and stupid as you'd expect, but Roland Emmerich's latest disaster epic is also an unforgivably dull slog.

The Axe Murders Of Villisca is too familiar a haunted house story to be anything more than generic.

Once Upon A Deadpool supports the worthiest of causes, but "PG-13 Deadpool 2" is a much duller, hacked-up sequel than this year's *already inflated* R-rated release.

Stagnant, contrived, and oh so boring, The Promise is nothing but a perfectly good waste of Christian Bale and Oscar Isaac’s towering abilities.

Any fans hoping that Assassin's Creed would break the long streak of poor video game adaptations are bound to be disappointed by this nearly incomprehensible mess.

Much like the AI we know in the real world, 'Atlas' is unable to turn its wealth of potential into much of anything worth engaging with.

Brahms: The Boy II seems to want nothing to do with its original, which is an odd and detrimental outcome for your direct continuation of Brahms' ongoing story.

Despite the best efforts of McCarthy, and a winsome Spencer as her sidekick, Thunder Force is more like Shazam! Lite. It wants us to laugh at genre tropes, but this crude and unoriginal dreck is just comedy Kryptonite.

Between the split bones and compulsive carnage, a disjointed script, co-written by Stallone and Matthew Cirulnick, makes Rambo: Last Blood mindless and messy.

Before I Fall makes a simple plot into this convoluted, aggravating mess of emotional turmoil that lacks a shocking amount of direction.

Much like its central characters, Nerdland is a dismal, unfunny failure, wasting all its potential and entirely unaware that it is every bit as stupid as the stupid people it so despises.

The characters are despicable and insufferable, but worse yet, interchangeable and not particularly interesting.

Imaginary is decidedly unscary, lamentably messy proof that horrendous scripts dwarf even the brightest premises on the creative food chain.

Even those who are deathly afraid of clowns will have trouble finding enjoyable bouts of horror in this survival thriller.

No ifs, ands or Bubs about it, the memory of Day Of The Dead: Bloodline will decay at lightning speed. There’s nothing new here that Romero didn’t do better, only a downgraded horror watch with lesser value.

Categorizing Rings as "horror" would be a disservice to genre films, because at least the lowest of the low attempt a scare here or there.

3 From Hell is an ugly example of too much wicked style over zero intended substance.

One can say that Faulkner is unfilmable, but any work will be unfilmable when it is being adapted by a talentless director. In this case, the fault of the film’s issues stem completely from Franco and not at all with the difficulty in Faulkner’s writing. Hopefully, after two failed outings, the actor will learn to leave Faulkner’s masterful work alone. Although knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him try his hand at adapting one of the author’s works again.

It's a shame Silent Hill: Revelation suffers the same doomed fate as most modern horror movies, bumbling through a shockingly disconnected screenplay which strings together moments that could have been salvaged otherwise.

Alexa, send this underbaked, untethered failure back to the cutting room.

It lives up - or rather down - to its title, sending its stars on a hedonistic road trip with a pink Mini Cooper's worth of sexist, racist, homophobic and ugly jokes for company.