David Fear

When Sex keeps the focus on the couple at the center, you can feel it tapping into something as old as the moving pictures themselves. Nothing is hotter than connection.

The movie keeps getting tangled in a complicated web of its own making, one that feels all too familiar after several decades of superhero cinema sucking up the cultural oxygen. Calling this Brand New Day feels like a cosmic joke. It’s the same old MCU B.S., coasting by on the considerable charm of its two resident stars and a legacy of good will. There’s nothing new here whatsoever.

What you tend to walk away with after bearing witness to The Odyssey, arguably Christopher Nolan’s best work after 2017’s Dunkirk, is an overall sensation of awe.

On its own, Evil Dead Burn might just feel like a misstep. Coming after the equally questionable previous entry, however, this feels like a last gasp. It’s nothing but dead on arrival.

The key to making all of this work is really Deutch, who knows how to lace an all-American sweetness with a sense of anarchy lurking right below the surface.

The animated Moana is the sort of transcendent, mythic yet breezy storytelling that exemplifies what the House of Mouse does best when its at its best. The live-action Moana is simply spectacle that’s indistinguishable for any other generic spectacle out there — it’s peak Disney déjà vu.

What makes this such an exhilarating watch is how the performers navigate every passive-aggressive aside, every catty comment, every choice bit of annoying behavior played for laughs, pathos, or both at once.

Jackass: Best and Last is a victory lap for nearly 30 years of doing ridiculous, stupid, death-defying sh*t in the name of entertainment, a greatest-hits and outtakes compilation that’s buffered by a half dozen or so fresh hells that Knoxville and director Jeff Tremaine put their sometimes-willing participants through.

If nothing else, Supergirl will make a case to casual moviegoers that the character deserves to be treated as more than a “super-family” footnote.

It’s the sort of feature debut that earns a “watch this space” tag — a cinematic statement complemented and enhanced by one hell of an eye for composition, and two performances that toe the line between torrid and terrified. But it also marks a turning point in terms of queer horror that simultaneously inspires firsthand fear for its protagonists and loathing for both its supernatural and human monsters.