Time and again, Aftersun teases a large reveal only to end up in the most boring of all possible endings.

Triangle of Sadness pulls you into its world with the ease of a master hypnotist.

Amsterdam is a plethora of pomp, but little requisite circumstance.

Blonde’s platinum sheen is nothing more than a dime-store dye job.

Elvis collapses under the weight of its director’s ambitions and style instead of letting its standout lead re-create more key moments in the icon’s life.

Luhrmann’s technique had my toes tapping, but left my intrigue lacking.

Crimes of the Future didn’t captivate me with its story despite the fascinating, gruesome effects and made me wish for a better experience in the present.

Top Gun: Maverick caught me off guard and completed its mission by winning me over.

The power it holds over you is that of a master hypnotist toying with a fully pliant subject.

Men tries too hard to mix a message and symbolism with a creative concept and ends up neutering itself.

The style of Men is undeniable and will either immediately appeal to or put off its audience.

Downton Abbey: A New Era is sappier than a forest full of maples.