… Eating Animals proves persuasive mostly in its diagnosis of what has gone wrong, and in its account of how it went wrong on such a massive scale (through thumbnail histories of KFC, Tyson, and Chicken McNuggets)

The film is about being overwhelmed by Los Angeles, its sprawling indifference, but also about finding your place in it – and even, at times, its welcoming warmth

Like 2004’s The Raspberry Reich, a satire of what LaBruce has called “terrorist chic,” The Misandrists soaks audiences in the doings (and I do mean doings) of a radical cell of sexual dissenters

Like the shows she’s considering, Bolin soon expands out from comely corpses to survey a wider world, in this case many of her pop obsessions …

That elfin wit Rash plays Bernard, the schlemiel-ish old college pal/rival of David Koechner’s carousing Huey, a one-man sexual Sherman’s March blazing from the Hudson to the East River

Simply put, the clockwork heist that Ocean’s 8 promises (and, by its end, dazzles with) limits the film’s ability to offer what you might actually want from it: the chance to relish this cast

… Much like a paper by a student who has read the wiki but not the work, Mary Shelley marshals its evidence without revealing more, without connecting to the soul of the matter.

For all its jittery heist drama, American Animals is, above all else, an accidental study in just how much white kids can get away with and still be welcomed back into society

Its heights might on occasion yank your stomach to the theater floor, but much of Mountain is a bit of a bliss-out, a chance to contemplate the planet’s most remote and dangerous places and our relationship to them

Teeming with abandoned buildings full of thugs to be dispatched, ruled over by shadow corporations and wicked artificial intelligence, Whannell’s film plays like the smarter-than-you’d-think 2018 version of some 1988 kill-’em-all VHS cheapie

Michael Mayer’s sunnily bleak all-star film, I fear, squirms through the first acts of Chekhov’s masterpiece the way a cast member’s 8-year-old cousin might in a theater seat

The morality-tale obviousness of First Reformed’s plotting at times proves at odds with its sensitive detailing of its characters’ inner and spiritual lives

Like Rogue One, the other standalone Disney Star Wars film that suffered a famously troubled production, Solo has a just-finish-the-movie quality to it, an uncertainty about the pacing and seriousness of developments in its own story

This is what it’s like to be 27 and kind of a mess and totally sleepy and kind of miserable and suffering a headache and not sure who you are or who you should trust

In the most pivotal, unforgettable scene, Jen holes up in a cave to engage in a ritual you know from almost every movie ever made about violent heroism: She has to patch herself up

Here’s what you need to know: This is less Deadpool 2 than Deadpool Squared, a studio and its star (Reynolds is credited as co-writer) committing to hyper-violent self-referential comic-book buffoonery

If the original cut was a couple of Desplechin distinct movies loaded into a woodchipper and then splatted all out on the screen, this new, longer Ismael’s Ghosts at least can be said to beef up the splats

The Devil and Father Amorth’s showdown between the (alleged!) forces of good and evil unfolds in a sort of sacred conference room, brightly lit and packed with family members, who dutifully hold the possessed to her chair

This epic, the first of two final Avengers films, finds the Class of ‘12 — the core Avengers — getting together for one last rager, joined by select newbies and spazzes from the ranks of sophomores and freshmen

The film — which is nowhere near as interesting as LaBeouf’s performance — is hopelessly reductive about its subjects’ psychology even as it mocks the press of 1980 for being reductive about its subjects’ psychology

The film opens with a dreary series of fake-outs and fantasies, culminating in a gunfight and car chase that suggest Broken Lizard would rather be making a different kind of movie

Brad Anderson’s talky-smartish thriller Beirut, like the first half of Million Dollar Arm, sets Hamm’s sharpie loose in a country — in this case a fractious Lebanon — where the rules aren’t his