Macbeth (2015) casts a mighty spell. It screws the viewer’s courage to the sticking-place, forcing them to look into corners of themselves they would rather not peer, and much like the innocent flower there’s a serpent hiding here, one whose venom is a glorious cinematic elixir worth being poisoned by.

Ultimately, Carl(a) wins me over for refusing to completely become a fairy tale, yet at the same time offering its main character some semblance of hope for future happiness. While the mechanics of this are a little schmaltzy, what Hershko and DeFreece do with them are anything but.

Sorrentino’s musing are tiredly obvious throughout, and as pretty as the images he composes might be the fact the emotional content simmered right around zero made caring about anything going on impossible. In the end Youth (2015) has nothing new to say, its Italian thematic esthetic nothing more than a mask for an emotional schadenfreude impossible to take pleasure in.

[Legend (2015)] an oddly routine and rote crime opus that haphazardly follows a standard, Scorsese-esque template without seemingly a desire to do anything innovative with it. The movie is strangely forgettable, and even with someone as talented as Hardy giving all he’s got in a dual role there’s frustratingly little to get excited about.

Dementia is a B-grade psychological thriller, but it often aspires to be much more, and as good as the performances are and as tight as the script might be Testin in arguably the chief reason for that. This is a fine little debut, one I hope interested audiences take the time to search out and discover soon as they can.

Krampus is a naughty little movie, and I mean that in a good way, and once again Dougherty proves himself to be crafty genre-bending filmmaker willing to make old school high-concept thrillers the likes of which studios are now reticent to put into production. As Christmas miracles for horror fans go, this is one stocking stuffer certain to be enjoyed for many years to come.

[Asthma] is a ponderous, emotionally indulgent addiction melodrama that wanders around aimlessly, desperately trying to find a reason to matter. It uses quirk and whimsy to mask just how one-dimensional and unappealing the main character is, never following through on any of its bigger ideas.

Submerged is easy to dismiss…Miller has talent, a statement I have no problem making, but it’s almost as if he’s treading water here, this whole enterprise so wet behind the ears and lacking in common sense maintaining interest through to the end is practically impossible.

The Good Dinosaur is a children’s fable that is more than content to be exactly what it is and little more. None of which means adults won’t find plenty to cherish, they just won’t latch onto it as strongly as younger viewers undoubtedly will, and for my part I have no problem with that whatsoever.