In an early episode of The West Wing, White House Press Secretary CJ Cregg references a visiting Middle Eastern royal with 38 wives: “Imagine being the girl he dated that he didn't marry.” That quote came to me following my screening of Liam Neeson's new revenge thriller Retribution, because good Lord – if these are the projects the star keeps accepting, can you imagine how bad the ones he turns down must be?

A biographical sports drama, triumph-of-the-underdog crowd-pleaser, and video-game “adaptation” all rolled into one, director Neill Blomkamp's Gran Turismo opens this upcoming Friday – though if you reside in the Quad Cities, it's understandable if you thought it actually opened several weeks prior.

In both form and practice, the movie might frequently remind you of Ridley Scott's Alien, John Carpenter's The Thing, and Joe Carnahan's The Grey, which remains the finest of the gazillions of macho-badass thrillers clogging Liam Neeson's resume. It's unfortunate that Øvredal's handsomely produced, fiercely acted endeavor isn't half as scary as those aforementioned titles.

Are we to make anything of the fact that, at one point during the extended action climax of Meg 2: The Trench, star Jason Statham literally jumps a shark?

If you take one step beyond the promise of Haunted Mansion's cast and ask yourself “Are these distinctive talents going to blend?”, you'll have some idea of the inherent disappointment in director Justin Simien's “adaptation” of the popular theme-park attraction.

Maybe the highest praise I can offer Greta Gerwig's Barbie and despite a few missteps, the writer/director's latest is worthy of massive praise – is that whatever you think the movie is going to be, it isn't going to be that.

“I'm going to need a few more details.” “They just get in the way.” This exchange between characters played by Hayley Atwell and Simon Pegg takes place roughly two hours into the 160 minutes of Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One, and I'm not sure I've ever before heard dialogue that so wholly encapsulated the experience of its movie.

“The movie that Hollywood didn't want you to see!” is an awfully enticing marketing ploy. It might also have been an obnoxious one if Alejandro Monteverde's film weren't so unexpectedly good.

From its introductory 20 minutes involving an impressively de-aged Harrison Ford to the joyously ludicrous finale that's capped by a quiet emotional whopper, I think I had more fun at this fourth followup that at any previous post-1981 Indy outing. While these may still be leftovers from a decadently delicious meal, they're intensely tasty ones re-heated to just the right temperature.

Not a half-hour after the end credits rolled on Wes Anderson's Asteroid City, I met friends for dinner, and immediately raved about the delightful, clever, moving entertainment I had just seen. They asked whether I was feeling antsy to write about the experience, and I didn't have to think about my answer before blurting it out: “No. Not at all.” Where, I figured, would I even begin in amassing – let alone publishing – thoughts on a work that's about nothing less than the meaning of existence, to say nothing of a film whose most gut-bustingly riotous sequence is also one that made me weep like a baby?

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