Chris Evangelista

The drifting from town to town gives the whole thing an episodic feel, and as great as Hanks is, even his talents aren’t enough to distract us from the sheer predictability of what’s going on here.

The Midnight Sky is ambitious in its attempts at pathos. There’s the germ of something beautiful buried in here; a story trying to tell us that every last life is worth saving even if all seems lost. That’s something worth hearing, but The Midnight Sky fails to even get the conversation going.

When Let Them All Talk finally reaches its destination, it feels like another Soderbergh experiment. He literally took his cast on a cruise for the flick – shooting for two weeks with his cast improvising whenever they could. The journey is enjoyable – but oddly forgettable. It’s like a quick vacation that immediately starts to fade from memory the moment you return.

If you’ve seen The Godfather Part III, you’ve essentially seen The Godfather, Coda. Those expecting something drastic, like Coppola’s Apocalypse Now: Redux, are going to be disappointed. Instead, the filmmaker has made little cuts here and there. Cuts that indeed make the lengthy film and its sprawling narratives a bit more concise – it’s eleven minutes shorter than the theatrical cut. And while that may make for a (slightly) brisker experience, it can’t fix all the problems that are irreconcilably baked into the film’s DNA.

A sensory overload, Sound of Metal is one of the most fascinating films you’ll see all year. Even when Darius Marder‘s lengthy character drama isn’t quite working – a problem that persists in the final act – it’s always engaging.

As haphazard and messy as The Mortuary Collection is, its bloody, ripped-out heart is in the right place.

Like Scream, Freaky understands and loves the horror movies that came before it. It takes these raw materials and molds them into its own unique identity, resulting in one of the most refreshing entries in the horror genre in a long time.

At first blush, Mank isn’t your typical David Fincher flick. Yes, it’s gorgeously mounted and meticulously crafted. But it doesn’t feel like Fincher’s other movies. And yet, when you look closer…it does. Because like all great Fincher films, Mank is about obsession. The obsession with getting something right. The obsession with creating good art. The obsessions with being remembered long after the whole world has faded to black.

By the time Nocturne drew to its admittedly effective conclusion I was left with the same impression that’s plagued every other Welcome to the Blumhouse entry so far: this would’ve been better as an hour-long episode of a horror anthology TV series. Sometimes, less is more.

Evil Eye deserves acknowledgment for taking a supernatural approach that involves cultures beyond Western trappings (there are countless horror movies that use American-centric Catholicism as their guide, for instance), but that’s about the only positive thing I can say here.

While Osei-Kuffour Jr. is able to conjure up more than a few disturbing moments – everything involving the mysterious twitchy man is great, aided by effective sound design full of rattling bones – Black Box loses steam rather quickly.

The Lie probably could’ve worked in a shorter form – a half-hour episode of a TV show, perhaps.

From a movie-making perspective, The Trial of the Chicago 7 is sturdy but not particularly revelatory. But as a delivery system for great performers rattling off great dialogue, it’s almost unbeatable.

Some may get a kick out of how over-the-top and pulpy Shadow in the Cloud is, but what’s on display here is so abrasive and so bombastic that it begins to sap the life out of you, ultimately leaving a bad taste in your mouth when all is said and done.

There’s a serious lack of movies about Black cowboys or Black equestrians in general, and by telling their story in the unlikeliest of settings, Concrete Cowboy feels vibrant and alive, even when it’s suffering from its own plotting problems.

MLK/FBI is an essential film. And it’s a film relevant to where we are at this moment.

One Night in Miami never once feels preachy, or overly speechy. The conversations seem natural, as does the chemistry between these performers.

Sprawling and brutal, The Devil All the Time is not for the impatient or the squeamish.

It is an overall joyous experience – infectious, you could say. Even if you don’t love all of the songs – there were a few that did nothing for me, I’ll admit – you’ll get swept up in the energy radiating from Byrne and his group, all of them throwing themselves into this strange, surreal, beautiful show.

The stage is set for all sorts of misadventures, and sure enough, Grant’s film leans into them, heavily, resulting in a film populated by repulsively stupid characters who keep making dumb decisions. The film’s premise has tons of potential, but you won’t find any of that here.

Antebellum feels curiously unfinished. Rushed, even. You catch a glimpse of what the filmmakers are going for here, but never entirely buy it.

It’s a beautiful, strange terrarium of a film, inviting us to gaze through the glass and wonder what’s going on underneath. Just as funny and creepy as it needs to be, the film is Kaufman at the top of his game, firing on all cylinders. A master of his own unique, unclassifiable craft.

There’s an undeniable and lovely sweetness at play in this film; a type of warmth and acceptance that helps elevate the entire package.

A painfully slow slog, this horror film from Romola Garai has plenty of good ideas and a few neat creature effects, but that’s not enough to salvage things.

As far as directorial debuts go, The Rental is a strong start for Franco, who proves here he can take not just one but two different tried-and-true genre formulas and rework them into something neat.

Saying We Are Little Zombies is “a bit hectic” is a bit of an understatement, and yet, as Nagahisa’s passion project exploded across the screen, I found myself giving my heart to it.

Unfortunately, whenever the action stops, The Old Guard sags, with emotional moments that never really land, and big dramatic scenes that lack any genuine drama.

While the film gets points for bucking tradition and trying to portray its scenes of fright mostly in bright daylight (shot with sharpness by cinematographer Angus Hudson), the scares just aren’t very scary. It doesn’t help that the pacing never feels right, with long stretches of the film focusing on things that would’ve been better served by being truncated.