Brandon Yu

From a perspective of pure atmosphere, this is arguably the most mesmerizing film of the year thus far.

The only welcome and consistent source of delight is whenever Hall gets to pop up onscreen, to squeal or beam in a way that is always funny, and enough to briefly take you out of the bit she’s trapped in.

It’s strange to find yourself briefly comforted, when the invasion eventually arrives, by the spectacle of war and bloodshed, if only because an actual conflict is occurring. It’s the standard stuff of war movies, as men charge the beaches of Normandy, but at least we’ve moved on from the weather reports.

It’s a little silly, and yet, watching Woodall finally let loose then snap back into his sly and sexy cool, you can’t help but be lulled into the melody.

Shorn of any larger narratives or showy touches, the film spotlights each subject telling, in brief, the individual histories and struggles of their lives.

In some ways, the movie is a bizarre Venn diagram of aesthetic and emotional interests: a totally immersive experience into the power of Eilish’s music, and a test film for Cameron to play with his latest gadgets.

This Netflix thriller is a fun-enough time that is elevated by the performances of predator and prey.

Although Charli and Góra can’t quite translate enough layers between them to make this film really bruise, this is a pleasantly slight work that doesn’t overstay its welcome.

A slapdash satire of modern celebrity culture that is awkward where it wants to be acerbic and clumsily maudlin where it wants to be meaningful.

This is, in short, as polished as you would expect of a work about a pop behemoth, a companion piece to their new album that’s less a revelatory look at the meaning of their time away than a sentimental welcome back for the group and its fans. For the BTS Army, that’s likely more than enough.