
Finding Emily movie review: call waiting
A smart, funny switched-up Cinderella for the social-media era with lots to say about modern dating and gender relations that is caustic, optimistic, and exasperated all at once. Instant comfort movie.

A smart, funny switched-up Cinderella for the social-media era with lots to say about modern dating and gender relations that is caustic, optimistic, and exasperated all at once. Instant comfort movie.

A blood-gushing, cheerfully horny phantasmagorical black comedy fueled by writer-director Jane Schoenbrun’s unique understanding of fandom and the intense relationships we can have with pop culture.

Rian Johnson’s third outing with droll detective Benoit Blanc, perhaps the most memorable original new movie character in decades, is a grimly funny gothic romp through modern hot-button Americana.

Grimly hilarious, this mashup of black comedy, social commentary, suspense, and horror is sharp and stinging, with a haunting gut punch of a finale… and it’s Yorgos Lanthimos’s most accessible film yet.

A haunted house movie from the dog’s perspective. No cheap gimmick but an absolute marvel, strikingly original and deeply affecting. An interspecies love story without a lick of phony sentimentality.

A real aspect of boxing — dangerously fast weight loss — sports films have ignored becomes body horror we have not seen before. The genre’s motivational clichés get twisted, nastily and poignantly.

Brash, chaotic, full of bleak humor and bitter irony. With blockbuster vibes over an anarchic indie heart, it’s both earnest and winking. Outstanding in-flight entertainment for our societal freefall.

The quirks of this slightly fantastical black-comedy crime thriller are many, varied, and messily disjointed. But there’s a delicious oddness to its unpredictability and its spin on familiar tropes.

Smart, sophisticated spy-versus-spy nonsense makes for a perfect little cinematic contraption. Tense and tricksy, but much more deliciously, these are espionage mind games with a sexy screwball vibe.

Hollywood has lost the ability to buckle swash. Guy Ritchie, shamelessly stealing from Indiana Jones, gives us a charmless treasure hunt that feels honed by corporate focus groups and cinematic SEO.