Few films from the past few years have given me as much continuous pleasure as Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris.
Where the Crawdads Sing is an old-school Southern melodrama told in big, broad brushstrokes. It wears its emotional machinations proudly on its sleeve.
Thor: Love and Thunder is my least favorite film in the MCU.
Most importantly, kids are going to love The Rise of Gru, and while that’s not surprising, that their parents might find themselves giggling right along with their youngsters somewhat is.
The Black Phone is a perfect example of how to tell a simple, somewhat familiar story with flair, intelligence, and style.
If this overheated phantasmagorical whirligig didn’t quite set my heart on fire, thanks in large part to Butler’s mesmerizing magnificence, I still couldn’t have stopped falling in love with Elvis even had I wanted to try.
Spiderhead is a great Twilight Zone or Black Mirror scenario, only one that offers up a terrific idea, asks several fascinating questions, and then frustratingly doesn’t know how to reach a satisfying resolution.
As slight as Good Luck to You, Leo Grande is, there is something so distinctly personal about what Brand and Hyde are doing that it’s doubtful their sublime little comedy-drama will dissipate from my memory anytime soon.
Lightyear is nonsense, but it is frequently enthralling nonsense.