NEW THIS WEEK (9/5) IN THEATERS, VOD AND/OR ON HOME VIDEO 

NOW AVAILABLE IN THEATERS, ON HOME VIDEO AND/OR STREAMING CHANNELS:  

THE BAD GUYS II--An amiable sequel to the 2022 animated sleeper that picks up where the first movie left off with the charming crew of reformed animal criminals struggling to stay on the straight and narrow. This time the Bad Guys--Mr. Wolf (Oscar winner Sam Rockwell), Mr. Snake (Marc Maron), Ms. Tarantula (Awkwafina), Mr. Shark (Craig Robinson) and Mr. Piranha (Anthony Ramos)--are reluctantly pulled back into action when a mysterious new villain, the Phantom Bandit (Danielle Brooks), threatens their hard-earned new reputations and the city they’ve sworn to protect. With their dynamic still shaky after having gone legit, the team must navigate personal tensions, elaborate heists and moral dilemmas to prove they’ve truly changed their criminal stripes. Returning director Pierre Perifel retains the original's visual flair by blending slick 2D flourishes with kinetic 3D animation. The movie leans into its crime-caper roots with playful energy while delivering fast-paced, cleverly choreographed action sequences. Though the plot revisits familiar redemption cliches, "Bad Guys 2" maintains a consistently breezy tone that should have no trouble appealing to both kids and grown-ups. With its sharp comic timing and enough clever twists to keep things pacy, this entertaining follow-up proves that even semi-reformed crooks can still steal the show. (B.)

THE BURMESE HARP--One of the most luminous achievements in postwar Japanese cinema, Ken Ichikawa's 1956 masterwork is a work of such grace, moral clarity and emotional resonance that it transcends the confines of its wartime setting. Adapted from Michio Takeyama’s novel, the film unfolds in the waning days of World War II as a Japanese unit in Burma, led by the gentle Captain Inouye (Rentarō Mikuni), faces imminent surrender. Among the soldiers is Private Mizushima (Shoji Yasui), a skilled harp player whose delicate melodies serve as a balm for his weary comrades and a bridge between cultures, even in the midst of war’s devastation. After the official surrender, Mizushima is sent to persuade a group of holdout soldiers to lay down their arms. The mission fails, ending in bloodshed and Mizushima—presumed dead—undergoes a profound transformation. Rescued and nursed back to health by Burmese monks, he dons their saffron robes and embarks on a solitary pilgrimage, dedicating himself to burying the countless unclaimed dead strewn across the battle-scarred countryside. His decision creates a haunting absence for Inouye and the others who long to reunite with their friend before returning to Japan. Ichikawa’s direction is quietly impactful, blending the spare lyricism of Kenji Mizoguchi with the humanist tenderness of Yasujiro Ozu. Minoru Yokoyama’s cinematography captures both the lush, rain-soaked beauty of Burma and the spectral stillness of war’s aftermath while Akira Ifukube’s score--interwoven with the recurring folk song “Home! Sweet Home!”--becomes an aching refrain for a homeland lost and perhaps forever changed.What elevates the movie to the realm of the sublime is its refusal to sensationalize conflict. Instead it dwells on compassion, moral duty and the possibility of reconciliation:  both with others and within oneself. Mizushima’s journey from soldier to monk is not framed as an escape from responsibility, but as a deepened embrace of it, his devotion to the war dead a quiet act of resistance against the erasure of human lives. By its final, devastating scene when the departing soldiers glimpse Mizushima in his monk’s robes separated by a river they cannot cross, Ichikawa delivers a meditation on loss, memory and spiritual awakening that lingers like a half-remembered prayer. Nearly seven decades later, "The Burmese Harp" still sings, its notes clear and timeless, offering not just a requiem for the dead, but a prayer for the living.The Criterion Collection's 4K digitally restored Blu-Ray includes archival interviews with Ichikawa and Mikuni and an essay by critic/Asian cinema specialist Tony Rayns. (A.)

CARNAL KNOWLEDGE--Mike Nichols' searing, stylish and unflinching examination of masculinity, sexual politics and emotional alienation is crafted with razor-sharp precision and anchored by bravura performances. Written by legendary Village Voice cartoonist Jules Feiffer, this wildly provocative 1971 masterwork strips the romantic veneer from sex and relationships, laying bare the toxic entanglements 

and emotional paralysis that often lie beneath. Unfolding over two decades, it traces the lives of two college roommates—Jonathan (Jack Nicholson) and Sandy (Art Garfunkel)—as they navigate their romantic and sexual entanglements from youth into middle age. Jonathan, all smirking bravado and cynical detachment, emerges as the movie's bruised and brutal heart. Nicholson is electrifying, charting Jonathan’s arc from glib womanizer to emotionally hollow predator with chilling nuance. Garfunkel plays Sandy as a more passive and idealistic counterpart, one who cloaks his desires in sensitivity but ultimately proves just as self-serving and deluded. Candice Bergen is stunning in an early role as the woman both men pursue in college. Bergen's Susan hints at the emotional dislocation experienced by women who find themselves trapped in male fantasies and contradictions. Yet it’s Ann-Margret who delivers the most devastating turn as Bobbie, Jonathan’s later lover and live-in girlfriend. She infuses the role with a potent mix of vulnerability and volatility, capturing the deep emotional toll of being tethered to a man incapable of genuine intimacy. Her scenes with Nicholson simmer with tension and heartbreak, and her unraveling gives the film its most wrenching moments. Nichols’ direction is spare but incisive with long takes, tight framing and stark compositions heightening the emotional claustrophobia. Every shot feels purposeful, emphasizing both the erotic charge and the emptiness that define the characters’ relationships. The temporal jumps are handled with remarkable fluidity, conveying how little these men truly change even as the world around them evolves. Visual motifs (mirrors, empty beds, dim apartments) recur throughout, reinforcing the theme of loneliness and spiritual isolation. Unlike traditional romantic dramas of the era (its antithesis, "Love Story," opened a mere six months earlier), "Carnal Knowledge" refuses sentimentality or redemption. Its brilliance lies in its honesty:  harsh, at times bitter, but never less than riveting. Nichols and Feiffer dissect male insecurity and entitlement with unflinching clarity, and its commentary on how men use sex as a weapon or shield remains startlingly relevant, retaining its power both as a fearless character study and cultural artifact of shifting gender dynamics. Through its unrelenting gaze and unforgettable performances, it continues to provoke, disturb and resonate. This is one of Nichols’ boldest, most enduring works. The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray includes an audio commentary with director Neil ("In the Company of Men," "Your Friends and Neighbors") LaBute; a conversation between Nichols biographer Mark Harris and critic Dana Stevens; an interview with film-editing historian Bobbie O'Steen (daughter of frequent Nichols editor Sam O'Steen); a 2011 chat between Nichols and director Jason ("Up in the Air," "Juno") Reitman; a Q&A with screenwriter Jules Feiffer; an essay by Harvard literature professor Moira Weigel; and a 1971 "American Cinematographer" article about the look of the film. 

(A PLUS.)

CAUGHT STEALING--This brisk, irreverent detour for auteur-of-the-unease Darren Aronofsky trades the high-wire intensity of films like "The Whale" and "Requiem for a Dream" for a slyly charged caper comedy delivered with gritty charm. Set amid the dingy nightlife of 1998 New York City, this genre-bender finds its pulse in a league of misfit characters stylishly captured by Aronofsky’s longtime cinematographer Matthew Libatique. Former "Elvis" Austin Butler plays Hank Thompson, a

burned-out former baseball star turned bartender whose life spirals out of control after agreeing to cat-sit for his punk rock neighbor. The setup--absurd yet deceptively simple--explodes into a kaleidoscopic frenzy as Hank finds himself

thrust into the orbit of multiple criminal factions, all demanding answers he doesn’t have. Butler is pure dynamite, balancing scrappy vulnerability with physical comedy and unspoken fear. Zoë ("The Batman") Kravitz brings warmth and emotional grounding as Hank's girlfriend, Yvonne, while Matt Smith provides an unpredictable energy to punk catalyst Russ. Regina King, Bad Bunny, Liev Schreiber, Carol Kane and Griffin Dunne enrich the crazy quilt ensemble, each adding menace or comic relief when needed. Aronofsky gleefully leans into the absurd:  gangsters, mistaken identity and cat chaos all colliding with lightning pace. The movie’s tone flirts with noir and dark comedy, buoyed by a lean, mean 107-minute runtime. It’s a vivid, kinetic experience—rough around the edges, darkly playful and a whole lot of fun. This might not be Aronofsky’s most profound work (think Martin Scorsese's "After Hours" directed by the "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels"/"Snatch-era Guy Ritchie), but it's certainly among his liveliest. (A MINUS.)

THE FANTASTIC FOUR:  FIRST STEPS--Set in an alternate retro-futuristic timeline, this latest attempt to build a cinematic franchise out of the comic book introduced in 1961 establishes the origin of Marvel’s “first family” with  stylized flair, practical effects and laudable ambition. Pedro Pascal brings a cerebral energy to the role of Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic, but there’s a slight emotional distance that keeps his performance from truly connecting. Vanessa Kirby conveys quiet strength and layered intelligence as the team’s moral center, Sue Storm/Invisible Woman; Joseph Quinn’s Johnny Storm/Human Torch) offers a jolt of charisma and youthful energy; and Ebon Moss-Bachrach’s Ben Grimm/The Thing delivers grounded pathos beneath his rock-solid exterior. Julia Garner is a striking presence as Shalla-Bal, a reimagined Silver Surfer, and Ralph Ineson’s deep-voiced Galactus lends the final act an operatic sense of grandeur even though his role feels more setup than payoff. Director Matt Shakman’s decision to lean into a '60s-inspired sci-fi aesthetic (complete with retro space suits and analog gadgetry) gives it a unique personality within the MCU. Unfortunately, the pacing lags in the second half and the stakes seem oddly muted for a film involving a world-devouring cosmic entity. While the character dynamics are promising, they don’t always cohere dramatically. An ambitious reset that takes a bold aesthetic swing with visual invention and an impressive cast, it ultimately feels more like a place-setter than a fully satisfying standalone adventure. (B.)

FREAKIER FRIDAY--With its smart blend of nostalgia and generational comedy, this spirited return to body-swap hijinks reunites Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan two decades-plus after their 2003 reboot of the 1977 Disney hit which starred Jodie Foster and the wonderful Barbara Harris. Director Nisha Ganatra's sequel adds a fresh twist by upping the ante:  not just one body switch, but multiple swaps across generations of the same family. Thestory picks up with Anna (Lohan) who's now a single mom and struggling musician raising a rebellious teenage daughter ("Once Upon a Time in...Hollywood" scene-stealer Julia Butters' Harper). Tess (Curtis), semi-retired and recently remarried, is trying to bond with her granddaughter when a mysterious heirloom causes all three to switch bodies. As Anna ends up in her daughter’s body, Harper lands in her grandmother’s and Tess finds herself back in Anna’s skin, the misunderstandings and chaos that ensue are frequently hilarious and surprisingly heartwarming. The movie wisely plays to Oscar winner Curtis’s well-honed comic chops while giving Lohan the opportunity to revisit Anna from a more mature, layered perspective. Butters impressively holds her own, balancing teen angst with grown-up confusion. The multi-swap format keeps the momentum brisk, ensuring that each performer gets a chance to shine. While the premise is familiar, Ganatra updates its themes with elan resulting in a winning comedy about empathy, identity, and the strange beauty of walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. (B) 

JURASSIC WORLD REBIRTH--Director Gareth ("Rogue One," 2014's "Godzilla") Edwards' contribution to the 32-year franchise improves upon the recent Chris Pratt-Bryce Dallas Howard misfires with a refreshing blend of suspense, spectacle and even surprise. Edwards shifts the tone back toward a darker, more primal edge, restoring the sense of danger that defined Steven Spielberg's 1993 classic. Rather than relying solely on CGI, it melds practical effects with real‑world locations, adding texture and suspense to the equation (the dinosaur sequences feel remarkably visceral). An unsuspecting civilian family on vacation and a covert team led by Scarlett Johansson are catapulted into danger on a secluded, genetically volatile island. Screenwriter David Koepp, who penned the first "Jurassic Park" returns, pays homage to its roots while still managing to chart new territory. (Rescuing dinosaur DNA for medical research grounds the film in real ethical and environmental stakes.) Pacing is generally taut with several nerve‑racking set pieces that effectively balance awe and dread. The introduction of new mutant dinosaurs (including a hulking new T. rex and some bizarre hybrids) injects freshness and unpredictability into the IP. Performances are generally solid with the combined charisma of Johanssen, two-time Oscar winner Mahershala Ali, Rupert Friend and "Wicked" boy toy Jonathan Bailey anchoring the human side of the story. Some of the character arcs are a tad formulaic, though, and occasional lulls (not helped by an overly generous 135-minute run time) dilute the overall impact. But if you're craving a dino adventure that’s more than just CGI spectacle--one that ticks the nostalgia box while delivering a few genuine scares--"Rebirth" mostly succeeds. While it doesn’t eclipse the original, it’s arguably the most thematically and tonally resonant sequel since 2001's "Jurassic Park III." (B.)

MISHIMA--A singular cinematic achievement, Paul Schrader's audacious 1985 blend of biography, psychological portraiture and formal experimentation remains unlike anything else in American or international cinema. More than a biopic, "Mishima" is a stylized meditation on art, identity and the fatal convergence of beauty and violence, filtered through the life and work of Japanese author Yukio Mishima. Schrader, best known for writing gritty character studies like "Taxi Driver" and "Raging Bull," approaches Mishima’s story with both reverence and bold invention. Rather than follow a traditional chronological format, he structures the film in four thematic chapters (“Beauty,” “Art,” “Action” and “Harmony of Pen and Sword”), weaving together three interlaced strands: dramatizations of Mishima’s novels, episodes from his personal life and the final day leading up to his ritual suicide in 1970. This triptych structure creates a layered, prismatic portrait that captures not just what Mishima did, but what he believed, imagined and struggled against. The results are visually breathtaking. Schrader enlisted production designer Eiko Ishioka and cinematographer John Bailey to help create a work of immense formal beauty. The sections depicting Mishima’s fiction, drawn from "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion," "Kyoko’s House" and "Runaway Horses," are staged on lavish, expressionistic sets bursting with color and stylization, while the biographical sequences are shot in a starkly realistic, almost documentary-like style. This interplay heightens the central theme: the tension between the world as it is and the world as it ought to be according to aesthetic or moral ideals. Central to the movie’s power is Philip Glass’s hypnotic, minimalist score. The music helps give it an operatic propulsion, driving the narrative with rhythmic insistence and emotional grandeur. It's one of Glass’s most iconic cinematic compositions, perfectly attuned to the inner turbulence of its subject. Ken Ogata’s performance as Mishima is another essential ingredient. Ogata doesn’t try to make the author sympathetic or palatable; instead, he inhabits his contradictions—his narcissism and discipline, his devotion to beauty and obsession with death—with quiet intensity. He gives voice to a man who demanded absolute control over his body, his writing and his legacy. What makes "Mishima" so remarkable is its refusal to resolve the paradoxes it presents. Schrader doesn’t simplify or judge Mishima’s nationalist zeal, his theatrical final act or his complex sexuality. Instead, he renders a portrait of a man wrestling with the limits of art and the corruptibility of the physical world. The film confronts uncomfortable questions about politics, masculinity and the role of the artist in society, questions that resonate far beyond Mishima himself.Despite being produced by George Lucas and Francis Ford Coppola, "Mishima" was barely released in Japan and struggled to find an audience in the U.S. due to its challenging subject matter and hybrid form. But in the ensuing decades, it ultimately gained recognition as a masterpiece. Intellectually rigorous and emotionally stirring, it's a triumph of cinematic form that honors the complexity of its subject while offering a profound reflection on the relationship between life and art. The new Criterion Collection box set includes both 4K and Blu-Ray copies of the film as well as a treasure trove of tantalizing extras. There are two alternate English narrations (one by "Jaws"/"All That Jazz" star Roy Scheider); Schrader and producer Alan Poul's audio commentary; a making-of featurette with Bailey, producers Tom Luddy and Mata Yamamoto, Glass and Eshioka; an audio interview with coscreenwriter Chieko Schrader; excerpts from a 1966 interview with Mishima; the 1985 documentary, "The Strange Case of Yukio Mishima;" a featurette on Mishima with his biographer John Nathan and Japanese film maven Donald Richie; an essay by critic Kevin Jackson; an article about the movie's censorship difficulties in Japan; and remarkably tactile photographs of Ishioka's sets. (A.) 

THE NAKED GUN—A reboot of the beloved Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker trilogy that doesn’t stray far from the anarchic comic spirit of the original films. Starring Liam Neeson in Leslie Nielsen's role of bumbling detective Frank Drebin, it’s a gleefully absurd return to a franchise defined by slapstick, deadpan humor and relentless 

derision. Neeson, best known for his stoic action roles, leans into self-parody with surprising finesse, fully embracing Drebin’s clueless sincerity. Whether he’s accidentally detonating a vending machine or interrogating a mannequin, Neeson plays it straight and that’s precisely what sells the comedy. The plot is mostly a loose framework designed to string together a barrage of visual gags, groan-worthy puns and surreal sight gags. This time, Drebin stumbles into a convoluted plot involving a corrupt pharmaceutical tycoon, a stolen experimental drug and a botched awards show assassination attempt. Naturally, it makes very little sense 

and that's part of the charm. Some jokes feel recycled or strained, but more often than not director Akiva Schaffer finds the right balance between nostalgia and fresh lunacy. (B MINUS.) 

NOBODY 2--This follow-up to the 2021 sleeper returns with more ultra violence and darkly comic thrills, anchored once again by Bob ("Better Call Saul") Odenkirk’s tightly coiled lead performance. Picking up four years after the end of the first movie, Hutch Mansell (Odenkirk), the seemingly ordinary suburban dad with a deadly past as a former government assassin, is still entangled with the Russian mob and struggling under a massive $30 million debt which he’s chipping away at through contracts against international bad guys. Meanwhile, his marriage to Becca (Connie Nielsen) is increasingly strained by the demands of his double life. In an attempt to reconnect with his family, the Mansells--including their children Brady (Gage Munroe) and Sammy (Paisley Cadorath) and Hutch’s father David (Christopher Lloyd)--decide to take a trip to Wild Bill’s Majestic Midway and Waterpark, the only vacation spot shared in childhood between Hutch and his adopted brother Harry (RZA). What begins as a sunny family getaway quickly spirals into bone-crunching havoc. A minor confrontation with local bullies draws the unwanted attention of the corrupt theme-park manager (John Ortiz) and shady local sheriff (Colin Hanks), triggering the ire of a ruthless crime boss (Sharon Stone), forcing Hutch to revert to his lethal skill set to defend his loved ones. Indonesian genre ace Timo ("May the Devil Take You," "The Big 4") Tjahjanto expertly melds slick action choreography with genuine emotional stakes. Hutch is once again the “nobody” forced to extraordinary lengths, only this time it’s not just his survival but everyone he holds dear. Odenkirk reprises "nobody" Hutch with a palpable zeal, balancing physical intensity with quiet emotional beats; Nielsen once again brings steely resolve to her under-written role; and Stone, elegantly poised one moment and explosively violent the next, makes an utterly terrifying villain. A kinetic, unexpectedly poignant sequel, it succeeds by expanding the original's mythology while remaining rooted in Hutch’s deeply human struggle for redemption and identity. (B PLUS.)

THE ROSES--"Austin Powers"/"Meet the Parents" director Jay Roach and screenwriter Tony ("Poor Things," "The Favourite") McNamara's delectably bilious reimagining of "The War of the Roses," Danny DeVito's 1989 cult classic replaces Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas with British thesping royalty Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch. As rising culinary superstar Ivy Rose, Oscar winner Colman balances her innate warmth with Ivy's growing edge of icy determination. Cumberbatch expertly limns the unraveling of Theo Rose's professional life with a quiet desperation that gradually morphs into resentment and outright spite. Their chemistry crackles not in affectionate warmth, but in the simmering tension of two oversized egos colliding. Roach choreographs that escalation with elan, inexorably shifting from wry tension to outright psychological warfare. The supporting cast (including Andy Samberg, Kate McKinnon and Allison Janney) adds humor and jaundiced social commentary though they never upstage the central couple’s ultimately tragic power struggle. While the satirical bite is razor-sharp there are moments where Theo’s arc leans toward the self-indulgent, undercutting the emotional trajectory of a man losing more than just his career. Yet those rare missteps are balanced by the overall commitment to exploring how quietly buried resentments can explode when nurtured in silence. In its bold inversion of traditional marital roles, Roach and McNamara capture the absurdity, cruelty and emotional volatility at the heart of modern marriage in unsettling, darkly funny and emotionally resonant fashion. (B.) 

SHOESHINE--One of the earliest and most luminous achievements of Italian neorealism, Vittorio De Sica's classic radiates compassion while never flinching from the stark realities of postwar life. Shot in the rubble-strewn streets and cramped interiors of Rome, it tells the story of two inseparable boys--Giuseppe (Rinaldo Smordoni) and Pasquale (Franco Interlenghi)--whose modest dream of buying a horse is derailed by a chain of petty crimes, bad luck and the grinding machinery of institutional neglect. From its opening moments, "Shoeshine" pulses with an almost documentary immediacy. De Sica’s camera finds poetry in the smallest gestures: the boys’ exuberant rides on their horse, the glint of sun on cobblestones, the fragile laughter that survives amid ignominy. Yet this warmth is always in tension with the encroaching coldness of a society more interested in punishment than compassion. When Giuseppe and Pasquale are sent to a juvenile detention center, the movie shifts into a heartbreaking study of friendship under siege:  how mistrust, manipulation and desperation can corrode even the strongest bond.The performances drawn from nonprofessional actors are nothing short of miraculous. Smordoni’s mischievous energy and Interlenghi’s quiet dignity create a dynamic so authentic it feels lived rather than acted. De Sica and screenwriter Cesare Zavattini infuse the narrative with a profound humanism. There are no villains here, only people caught in the grip of poverty, bureaucracy and moral compromise. Technically the film is remarkable for its understated beauty. Anchored by Anchise Brizzi’s fluid cinematography, the visuals balance gritty realism with moments of lyrical grace. De Sica avoids sentimentality, allowing the tragedy to emerge organically from circumstance rather than contrivance. Even the smallest supporting roles feel vivid, their individuality painstakingly etched. When "Shoeshine" premiered, it resonated far beyond Italy, earning a special Academy Award for its “high spiritual quality” and helped introduce neorealism to the world. Nearly eight decades later, its emotional power remains undiminished. The final scenes, devastating in their simplicity, remind us that the cost of injustice is not measured only in lost lives, but in broken trust, squandered youth and dreams that dissolve into dust. Tender,unblinking and unforgettable, this is cinema as moral witness, a timeless work of empathy that speaks as urgently today as it did in the ashes of postwar 1946. Extras on the Criterion Collection's digitally restored 4K Blu-Ray include "Sciuscia," Mimmo Verdesca's 2016 documentary celebrating the film's 70th anniversary; a featurette on "Shoeshine" and Italian neorealism with scholars Catherine O'Rawe and Paola Bonifazio; a 1946 radio broadcast with De Sica; an essay by N.Y.U. Contemporary Italian Studies professor David Forgacs; and De Sica's 1945 photo-documentary, "Shoeshine, Joe?" (A PLUS.) 

SUPERMAN--Arriving with the weight of a franchise reboot on its shoulders, "Guardians of the Galaxy" auteur James Gunn delivers a film that's earnest, ambitious and uneven. David Corenswet steps into the iconic lead role with a wholesome charm and idealism channeling the character’s hopeful inner core. While his Superman is likable and well-intentioned, the performance sometimes feels a bit flat, lacking the psychological complexity that might elevate his dual identity. Rachel ("The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel") Brosnahan makes an okay impression as Lois Lane, capturing the fast-talking wit and assertiveness that defines the character. Her chemistry with Corenswet is serviceable, though not particularly electric. The real jolt comes from Nicholas Hoult who brings a nervy, cold intelligence to uber-villain Lex Luthor. Hoult’s Big Bad is less theatrical and more calculating than previous incarnations:  a sinister presence lurking beneath a polished exterior. He doesn’t get as much screen time as expected, but still manages to leave a lingering impression. The supporting cast—including Isabela Merced (Hawkgirl), Edi Gathegi (Mister Terrific) and Nathan Fillion (Green Lantern)—adds color and hints at a wider DC universe. However, their inclusion sometimes clutters the narrative and distracts from Superman’s arc. Gunn’s direction leans into sincerity and a refreshing optimism, though at times the tonal shifts from newsroom banter to cosmic battles don’t entirely cohere. It's a solid, if slightly overstuffed reintroduction to the iconic D.C. character,  succeeding more in tone and intent than execution. (B.) 

THE TOXIC AVENGER--Director Macon ("I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore") Blair’s reboot of the 1984 Troma cult curio attempts the tricky balancing act of honoring the original (and its myriad sequels and spin-offs) while updating the template for a new audience. The result is equal parts outrageous, uneven and oddly endearing. Peter ("Game of Thrones," "Cyrano") Dinklage stars as Winston Gooze, a milquetoast chemical plant janitor who, after a workplace accident involving toxic waste, is transformed into a grotesque yet super-powered vigilante (aka the titular Avenger). Dinklage throws himself into the role with unabashed brio, making Winston both a tragic figure and reluctant hero who embraces his deformity to protect the helpless. The resident Big Bad is corporate overlord Bob Garbinger (played with unbridled nastiness by Kevin Bacon) who profits from pollution and Trumpian cruelty. Elijah Wood, nearly unrecognizable under a mountain of prosthetics, is Garbinger’s demented son whose manic energy pushes the movie into darkly comic terrain. Blair enthusiastically embraces the gonzo spirit of Troma with copious splatter, practical effects and sophomoric humor. Some scenes revel in cartoonish gore while others strain under the weight of trying too hard to shock. At its best, it channels the anarchic spirit of midnight cinema; at its worst, it feels like an overextended SNL sketch. (C PLUS.)

WEAPONS--Writer-director Zach Cregger's chilling, ambitious follow-up to his 2022 sleeper "Barbarian" is an ambitious horror flick that takes a deep dive into suburban paranoia and communal grief. Eschewing cheap jump scares for a non-linear, intricately layered narrative, Cregger tells the story of a small town rocked by the unexplained disappearance of an entire elementary school class, an event that triggers a psychological and emotional breakdown among the residents. Julia ("The Fantastic Four: First Steps") Garner anchors the film with a restrained but haunting performance as the soft-spoken schoolteacher whose students vanished without a trace. Local cop Alden Ehrenreich's investigation leads him into increasingly surreal territory, intersecting with several parallel story threads that contribute a different piece to the eerie puzzle. Also very good are Josh Brolin (a reclusive contractor with a troubled past whose isolated existence is disrupted as the town's crisis deepens), Benedict Wong (the school principal under growing suspicion) and Austin Abrams (a disturbed teen who may know more than he lets on). Cregger slowly builds dread as timelines and perspectives shift, generating suspense from the slow collapse of normalcy and the unseen forces that lie behind it. An unsettling, layered and confident piece of filmmaking, it confirms Cregger’s evolution into a leading genre auteur. (A MINUS.)

YOU CAN COUNT ON ME--A masterclass in character-driven storytelling, playwright Kenneth Lonergan's 2000 filmmaking debut is a quietly devastating, richly human portrait of familial bonds, emotional fragility and the complexities of adulthood that ranks among the most affecting American dramas of the early aughts. Anchored by two extraordinary performances from Laura Linney and Mark Ruffalo, it's a small film that continues to resonate with amazing emotional depth. Set in a sleepy Catskills town, the story revolves around Sammy Prescott (Linney), a single mother and bank employee trying to maintain stability for her young son Rudy (Rory Culkin). Sammy's controlled life is disrupted by the return of her estranged brother, Terry (Ruffalo), a drifter with a penchant for self-destruction and a heart that’s too gentle for this world. Their reunion sparks both tenderness and turmoil as they wrestle with shared childhood trauma, diverging life paths and the struggle to truly understand one another. What makes "You Can Count on Me" so remarkable is Lonergan’s refusal to indulge in melodrama. His screenplay is layered with nuance, humor and a deep sense of empathy. The dialogue feels unforced and the emotional beats land with a natural, uncontrived power. As a director, Lonergan favors simplicity, letting his actors’ expressions and silences speak volumes. Linney’s Oscar-nominated performance is revelatory, capturing Sammy’s strength and vulnerability with clarity and grace. Her portrayal of a woman trying to do the right thing—even when she’s unsure what that is—remains one of the finest of her career. In a breakout role, Ruffalo brings a wounded charisma to Terry, creating a character who is infuriating and lovable in equal measure. Their chemistry is undeniable, imbuing their sibling dynamic with history, affection and deep emotional conflict. The supporting cast brings additonalrichness without detracting from the core brother/sister relationship. Matthew Broderick is hilarious as Sammy’s neurotic boss and Culkin gives a tender, unaffected performance that deepens the emotional stakes. With wit, honesty and compassion, Lonergan captures the messiness of real life, how love coexists with frustration and how connection, albeit imperfect, remains a lifeline. It’s that rare drama that feels both specific and universal. Included on the Criterion Collection's Blu-Ray are Lonergan's audio commentary; new interviews with Lonergan, Linney, Ruffalo and Broderick; an essay by playwright Rebecca (Pulitzer finalist "The Glory of Living") Gilman; and the script of the original one-act play the film was based on. (A.)

 ---Milan Paurich