The Weight understands that stolen gold is valuable precisely because it is difficult to move, turning every river, bridge and suspicious companion into another cost desperate men must calculate.
Bunker is strongest when it forgets about billionaires, class allegory and survivalist spectacle and simply watches Penélope Cruz and Javier Bardem test the load-bearing walls of a long marriage.
By Any Means is uneven by design and sometimes simply uneven, but Yahya Abdul-Mateen II and Mark Wahlberg make its collision of civil-rights drama and revenge movie hard to dismiss.
Fall 2: Deadpoint finds a few genuine stomach-dropping thrills on Mount Kwan, even as a weaker script and more visible effects keep pulling the movie back toward earth.
Runner knows the appeal of watching Alan Ritchson turn every available object into a weapon, and Owen Wilson gives the mayhem an affable pulse, even when the movie around them feels assembled from familiar parts.
Hope begins like a mystery whispered through a rural town and gradually turns into a creature-feature stampede, losing some of its dread as its scale expands.
The effects made Terminator 2 historic. The reason it still works is that Cameron never treats spectacle as a substitute for character, fear, or moral choice.
Noomi Rapace and Andrzej Konopka wander through a retro-futurist fever dream full of striking ideas, brutal textures and a murder mystery that becomes harder to follow with every answer.
Amelia Eve gives the series a sturdy new lead, while dental nightmares, collapsing spaces and a terrific pillow-fort sequence keep a familiar supernatural formula intermittently alive.
Mutiny is at its best when Statham has nowhere to go but through somebody. The fights are blunt and efficient; nearly everything connecting them feels preassembled.
Train to Busan remains one of the defining zombie movies of its era, marrying relentless action to a father-daughter story that hits harder on a theater screen.
Anne Hathaway and Ewan McGregor keep a lively prehistoric survival movie grounded, but The End of Oak Street is more fun as a throwback than it is distinctive on its own.
A committed formal experiment with a commanding Alan Ritchson performance and several viciously effective action sequences.
Sophie Thatcher and Charles Melton wander through a gorgeous neon nightmare that too often feels like Nicolas Winding Refn remixing his own greatest hits.
A strikingly photographed erotic thriller turns caregiving and telephone scams into a study of control, then mistakes provocation for development.
