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?

Charm counts for a lot, and in Pixar's Elemental, it counts for so much that it's easy to ignore the film's rather lazy stereotyping, strangely under-imagined social dynamic, and plot-goosing crisis that, I'm sorry to say, is all about plumbing issues.

Over the course of four followups, Michael Bay set the bar for Transformers sequels so staggeringly low that it's almost sky-high praise to say that the series' two more recent prequels, neither of which Bay directed, aren't all that bad.

See enough movies over enough decades – five-plus decades, in my case – and you may begin to wrongly think that cinema no longer has the ability to astonish you. But while I'm hardly going to make the case for the superhero adventure being on par with, say, Citizen Kane or the first two Godfathers, or even Richard Linklater's 2014 Boyhood, I'm not sure that any film released since that latter title has thrilled and awed me quite as profoundly as Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse.

Frank Marshall's The Little Mermaid is sincere, reverent, safe. What it isn't, and what the original continues to be, is a joyous blast.

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