While I am as cynical about the current state of the human condition as anyone, Red One taps into something honest and hopeful. Right now, with all that’s going on in the real world, those aren’t emotional states of being I want to take for granted. More importantly, I’d like to believe I’m not the only one who feels that way.

Venom: The Last Dance is even more gloriously daft than its predecessors were.

Nicolas Ray’s queer-coded 1954 revisionist Western Johnny Guitar remains gloriously — and subversively — ahead of its time

A lot of people are going to have a grand time watching Transformers One. Sadly, I am not one of them.

As heists go, the only thing 1992 stole was just over 90 minutes of my time.

For all the slit throats, close calls, electric shocks, and broken bones, Duchess fires too many blanks to be of any consequence.

Deadpool & Wolverine is critic-proof.

Much like a destructive storm that blows itself out with nary a discernible rhyme or reason, all Twisters left in its wake was a metaphorical mess that left me sadly despondent.

As B-grade WWII adventure throwbacks to the 1950s and ‘60s are concerned, Murder Company is firing far too many blanks, making this a lackluster mission difficult to get enthused about.