Gemini Man is the type of high-concept idea that were a dime a dozen back in the 1990s.

Low Tide did just enough to keep me wanting to know what was going to happen next and to find out whether or not brothers Alan and Peter would be able to keep from drowning in the tumultuous sea of bad decisions they were swimming in.

Nichols knew how to hold my attention, Wrinkles the Clown a celebration of petrifying delights that had my guts twisted into unbreakable knots.

Joker wasn’t for me, and even if I were to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight and have a sudden desire to watch the world burn that still doesn’t mean I see my opinion changing anytime soon.

The Death of Dick Long gallops to the finish line with authoritative tenacity, its final moments hitting me like a swift kick to the head from a startled horse I’d made the unfortunate mistake to frighten.

Abominable is as entertaining an animated feature as I’ve seen this year, audiences of all ages almost certain to thrill to its avalanche of pleasures for many years to come.

Begos’ maturation as a filmmaker is undeniable, and I love that he’s centered Bliss in such an introspectively human way. He finds a kindred spirit in Dezzy, and as despicable and abhorrent as her tale might be, the young woman’s act of artistic creation is one that feels strangely universal even with all the dismemberments, rips of flesh and gushes of blood.

Beck and Woods have made a nice little genre gem with Haunt, and I look forward to picking this one up for my personal library so I can revel in all its nifty tricks and treats again relatively soon.

Ad Astra is a daring bit of storytelling subterfuge that will only grow in resonance as time goes by, the final pieces of its complicated puzzle an emotional moonshot of catharsis and fury unlike anything I could have imagined trying to fit together beforehand.