X-Men: Apocalypse is the boldest, most audacious entry in this series to date, descending into places of despair, tragedy and chaos the likes of which are often spellbinding. Even if all of it doesn’t work, enough of it did to keep me engaged, everything building to a powerful conclusion of sacrifice and courage that speak to the larger themes at play nicely.

Featuring crackerjack action sequences and bursting with an infectious sense of humor that’s laugh-out-loud hilarious, The Nice Guys is a major blast, Crowe and Gosling having the time of their lives bringing all this madcap, blood-splattered lunacy to life.

It’s the kind of thing Lumet would have applauded, a devious device that makes the audience a voyeuristic enabler who has allowed all of this bedlam to transpire as if it were a piece of superficial Kardashian-esque reality television content to wallow in nothing less than its own vapid self-absorbed excess. That Money Monster doesn’t live up to these aspirations is admittedly disappointing. That it attempted to go there in the first place is worthy of vociferous applause.

I loved this movie. I was blown away by Medina’s performance, shell-shocked by the level of intimacy that Breathnach is able to create as things work their way towards their redemptive conclusion. A story of self, gender, identity and family, Viva is an absolute gem worthy of raucous celebration.

Captain America: Civil War is fun; it’s too well made, acted and scripted for it to be anything less. But it’s also much ado about nothing, the fact of which is annoying me more and more as time goes by.

Sacrifice (2016), while far from a waste of time, just isn’t interesting enough to bother with, the only mystery being why anyone thought it was strong enough to garner a theatrical release in the first place.

In the end, Keanu is a movie that shows Key and Peele are more than just television personalities, and it likely won’t be long before they put forth a picture that potentially equals the pair’s comedic virtuosity.

Mother’s Day isn’t just bad, it’s an unforgivable blot on the cinematic landscape, and forgive me if I just try to go to my personal happy place and do my best to imagine that it doesn’t even exist in the first place.

If anything, Sing Street is a rollicking pop music extravaganza with so much life and heart enjoying it is a virtual impossibility, the director stealing my heart with such confidently raucous abandon I almost don’t even know where to start.