The brooding neo-noir atmosphere, thick with cigarette smoke and Depression-era art deco flourishes, lies heavily upon the story like the lid of a coffin waiting to be nailed shut.

In Olivia Colman’s hands, Leda’s present-day anxieties are almost humorous, though in a trying sense, her situation so stressful she can’t help but laugh.

Like a Bauhaus nightmare or an M.C. Escher drawing come to life, rooms lead to other rooms with a confusing geography, disorienting us as Macbeth and Lady Macbeth descend into madness.

At its best, “Don’t Look Up” trades in the global chaos for small surprises of tenderness. It’s baffling, then, that McKay bypasses these moments so often in favor of cramming in a few more one-off gags, a few more cameos.

Benedict Cumberbatch’s performance—his every fiery look, the precision of his every physical movement, even the learned drawl of his American accent—is easily the most commanding one of his career.

As he did with Baby in “Baby Driver,” Edgar Wright defines Ellie only by her taste in music and her fandom for a bygone era, as though she has no more depth than the stickers on the inside of a high school locker.

Pablo Larraín’s almost experimental approach to the character study often yields affecting results but sometimes lapses into maudlin theatrics.

Not just a sci-fi adventure produced with technical bravura, “Dune” is a statement whose power lies in its clarity of purpose.

In one of the best performances of his career, Oscar Isaac lends William Tell a brooding, calculated anger that burns slowly throughout the film; we know he’ll inevitably snap, but the suspense of not knowing when or how keeps us uneasy.

“The Nowhere Inn” never moves beyond a simplistic question of what makes a person “real,” but in fairness, it doesn’t need to; the film creates a compelling story out of Annie Clark’s self-manipulation.