If it threatens too much of a good thing, Chapter 4 benefits from a seemingly infinite well of creative ferocity that’s impeccably paced. And while one could belabor the ludicrous pratfalls and convoluted inner workings of the universe at large, the film acquits itself just fine with an Ian McShane proclamation: “Just have fun out there.”

This is a sure-handed debut with a reliable group of actors.

The beauty is that Torres never forces these messages down your throat. The movie is too looney, too specific to be so obvious.

For horror fans particularly dedicated to this franchise, the character development might not matter as much as the horror sequences, which are extraordinarily well-executed, drawing upon the art deco aesthetic of an aging building filled with secondhand vintage furniture and random found objects.

If nothing else, Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves made me relieved that Peter Jackson got to make his Lord of the Rings trilogy long before the Marvel era, when seemingly all franchises have to slyly poke fun at themselves in order to be greenlit.

It’s exciting to see a debut so self-assured and comfortable in its own sun-baked skin.

The film is a compassionate portrait of a young man finding his place in several communities with a rigorous support system of mentors and family members in place. I just wish writer-director Khan would have given us a little more time with the rich ensemble around him.

Down Low doesn’t know where to end and what to center. It’s eager for a happy ending and forgets the necessary work to produce one.

The risk for these kinds of stories––the best ranging from 12 Angry Men to One Night in Miami––is that they lose momentum after the initial setup. You need strong, convincing characters to make persuasive arguments and unearth deep-seated secrets. Brooklyn 45 supplies such.

Narratively it’s nothing if not succinct, and whatever In Water lacks for plot it more than makes up for in mood and ideas, as well as a kind of raw artistic honesty.

It’s never anything less than an insightful watch, which doesn’t exactly make it memorable.

Despite ending on a bit of narrative symmetry I maybe should’ve seen coming, Garrel isn’t doing anything particularly profound or surprising, but I came away, in some strange fashion, understanding him a little more, and frankly wanting to see another of his movies.

For every person who finds the tone a welcome inclusion that helps make this two-and-a-half-hour mystery feel a whole lot breezier than you expect, there’s bound to be another who cannot separate what appears to be surface distraction from a highly convoluted tapestry of convenient twists and turns. Most will surely fall in the middle––like me.

Rodeo is caught between arthouse character study and stylish heist thriller, the two genres never making for easy bedfellows. For all its merits, not even a commanding lead performance can thread these two disparate tones.

Tonally, Moving On plays a bit unorganized. While the results are mixed, these performers make the journey worthwhile.

What would a high school movie look like if its queer characters ended up as jock-slamming, hierarchy-upending heroes? Bottoms is this year’s righteously indignant, big-swing answer.

Embellishments aside, Flamin’ Hot is like the perfect snack or comfort food: consistent, delivering an experience that pleases because it is so familiar, and a classic Hollywood rags-to-riches story with a heavy dose of Latin flavor.

There’s a version of the film that feels engaging and well-considered. It pops its head out every once in a while (most notably in an FBI impersonation sequence led by a gut-busting Kaitlin Olson). But it can’t even stay above water in a shallow script. Despite its name, Champions rides the bench.

This is much more than an ethnic family drama that aspires to have “cross-over universal” appeal, even as it generates such by throwing too many elements together alongside three unique, compelling stories.

Featuring multiple lead characters, many points of view, and more twists than a Twizzler, this construct may feel convoluted in spots. Yet it is a concise, well-told piece of entertainment that’s smart enough to know being too clever can be a crutch.

While it has interesting things to say about cycles of abuse and the overlap between the church and abusive parents, those ideas are lost in a haze of non-linear storytelling. Even with such problems, this is compelling in individual scenes; if only they added up to anything.

Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre is the latest in a long line of diminishing returns for Ritchie, made mildly diverting through the strength of its performances even as a central spy mystery struggles to give reason why it’s worth investing in.

The subcultures in Manodrome are ostensibly a work of fiction but, exaggerated as they may be, are no less plausible or rife with intrigue.

Music is a beguiling film, one whose steady, exquisitely crafted frames only amplify the strength of emotions thrumming just beneath them.

In Gods of Mexico, we are seeing the Aztec gods still hard at work, not correcting the imperfections of creation, but sitting with us and basking in its glory.

Therapy Dogs is undeniably authentic, regardless of whether some sequences are staged: as each fiction unfolds we understand the emotions and futility that birthed them.

If it lends to creating a hazy portrait for the future of China’s youth, it also makes for a rather meandering and tepid affair. Huang and Otsuka’s form of subtlety and “facts-of-life” approach keep Stonewalling from being the incisive drama they’re clearly considering. Yet the movie gets its point across, much as you might wait for it to get there.

This film lives off the warmth between its actors but boasts a throwback charm that appears in keeping with recent resurgences of other seemingly past-it directors.