While its supernatural revelations may end up being a little too literal for their own good, Nightborn succeeds thanks to its emotionally grounded performances, relentless atmosphere, and a truthfully uncompromising willingness to embrace just how frightening early parenthood can feel.

For a franchise usually built around giving audiences exactly what they expect and hope for, Brand New Day frequently finds surprising new ways to remind us why Spider-Man continues to endure; superhero fatigue be damned.

It won't be for everyone, and it honestly probably isn't even for most people. But if you're willing to surrender yourself to its strange, mist-covered frequency, Her Private Hell offers one of the year's most singular and rewarding cinematic experiences.

A leaner, punchier version with fewer detours and more trust in its revenge narrative could have been something truly special.

This isn't just Christopher Nolan making his biggest movie. It's Christopher Nolan finally arriving at the story he seems to have been building toward all along. And much like Odysseus himself, the journey proves more than worth the wait.

I’m an absolute sucker for this kind of comedy. Give me broad slapstick, cartoon logic, endlessly quotable dialogue, and actors committing to complete nonsense with Oscar-worthy conviction, and I’m almost certainly having a great time.

It’s flawed, undeniably, but those shortcomings are largely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of morbid imagination on display.

Stylish, paranoid, and powered by an emotionally raw Britt Lower performance alongside astonishing cinematography and editing, Sender delivers one of the year's most memorable psychological thrillers.

Apologies to Pixar, Marvel Studios, Steven Spielberg, and Christopher Nolan, but this was my most anticipated theatrical event of the year. It was cool to see that I wasn’t alone.

Gillespie isn't an untalented filmmaker, but after already struggling with similar visual issues on Disney’s Cruella, it's difficult not to question whether he was the right choice for a project demanding this much large-scale spectacle.

Jackass: Best and Last embraces the passage of time. It celebrates everything that came before while recognizing that bodies eventually stop cooperating with the ambitions of twenty-year-olds. It’s not a defeat. It’s more like maturity - well, as much maturity as a movie featuring repeated attacks to the groin can possibly have.

A thoughtful, mournful deconstruction of a beloved legend filled with beautiful imagery and sincere ideas. But despite all of its craftsmanship and ambition, it often feels like well-traveled ground explored by more engaging stories before it.

You may not be able to explain every image or every choice, but you’ll remember how it felt. And for a film so deeply concerned with the ways trauma embeds itself into memory, that feels entirely appropriate.

A Midnight movie that understands horror not as spectacle, but as lived experience.

The rare film that repeatedly inspires cheers, gasps, winces, and laughter from its audience within the span of a single fight scene.

By the time the story finally arrives somewhere substantial, it has largely exhausted its momentum.

Buried beneath an overlong runtime, middling humor, and a bafflingly uneven tone is a genuinely entertaining fantasy adventure struggling to break free.