Mitchell Beaupre

With stronger formal panache on display, this remake maintains the power of its predecessor while offering greater development in its characters and a few surprises along the way, even for those familiar with its story.

While Swanberg’s hangdog flow remains amiable throughout The Sun Never Sets, there’s a repetitiveness to the push-pull dynamic that quickly becomes tedious.

In exquisite, excruciating detail, Remake captures all the beauty and the pain.

There’s a bitter honesty to that which we aren’t often confronted with in a world where stories try to give us some way out, some bit of hope. But Goodbye June can’t tackle this material with the same kind of dimensionality present in, say, Tamara Jenkins’ superb The Savages.

Carry-On keeps you on the edge of your seat with its myriad turns, always being sure to ground itself in realistic characters who offer the opportunity to question what we would do if presented with a similar scenario. It’s a welcome return to Collet-Serra’s sweet spot, a throwback to ’90s thrillers and a new Christmas crime classic

There’s something unexpected about the way Anaïs in Love pulls you in, with its airiness making it exactly the right film to watch at this moment as the sundresses are coming out and few things feel better than reading a good book in the grass. Some movies just feel like spring; Anaïs in Love is certainly one.

There’s a sense of this being more of a first draft of a stronger picture, one that could have built out those concepts into something more substantive, as opposed to merely scratching the surface. Nevertheless, it’s an entertaining watch, with plenty of peculiar touches.

In 2022 it’s a true gift seeing a film so unafraid of being as lurid, provocative, and unabashedly horny as Deep Water. Perhaps it took a seemingly retired master of the genre to resurrect the erotic thriller, and hopefully this somewhat buried release won’t cause people to miss it, or for its cultural footprint to not stand the test of time as it deserves.

There’s something so hollow about a production such as this, where it feels Netflix simply maneuvered parts of its algorithm into a choose-your-own-ingredients food dispenser to churn out whatever they thought audiences would click on if they saw it on their homepage for one week before the next one drops. Ryan Reynolds? Mark Ruffalo? Vague sci-fi imagery? Sure, sweetie, let’s put that on while we scroll our phones as dinner’s cooking, and fall asleep right before the kid in the movie starts using his video game skills to pilot drones that attack people.

You Mean Everything to Me often feels like the first draft of a story that had more potential than what we see.