Widows (Steve McQueen, 2018)

Elizabeth Debicki, Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, and Cynthia Erivo in Widows

Cast: Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki, Cynthia Erivo, Colin Farrell, Brian Tyree Henry, Daniel Kaluuya, Garret Dillahunt, Liam Neeson, Robert Duvall, Carrie Coon, Jacki Weaver, Lukas Haas, Jon Bernthal, Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Kevin J. O'Connor. Screenplay: Gillian Flynn, Steve McQueen, based on a TV series by Lynda LaPlante. Cinematography: Sean Bobbitt. Production design: Adam Stockhausen. Film editing: Joe Walker. Music: Hans Zimmer.

A solid dark thriller with a powerhouse cast, Widows tells the story of four women married to professional thieves who are bereaved when a major heist goes wrong and the van the men are in goes up in a fiery explosion. The problem is that the loot was also incinerated and it belonged to a powerful Chicago politician and crime boss, Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry), who shows up at the home of one of the women, Veronica (Viola Davis), demanding repayment. Veronica, who had no part in her husband's crimes, is desperate to raise the money, but her husband's chauffeur had the key to his safety deposit box, in which she discovers a notebook full of detailed plans for all of his heists, including one he had yet to pull off. Eventually, she concludes that the only way to raise the necessary millions is to do that heist herself, for which she enlists two of her fellow widows. The film casts fine actors like Liam Neeson, Daniel Kaluuya, Robert Duvall, Carrie Coon, Lukas Haas, and Jon Bernthal in secondary roles as the complications and surprise twists ensue. Steve McQueen's no-nonsense direction and the skill of his cast make the whole thing mostly plausible, mainly by not giving you time to question some of the plot's weaknesses. There's a subplot about the election battle between Jamal Manning and Jack Mulligan (Colin Farrell), the scion of an old Irish political family, which is tied to the main plot by some fairly tenuous threads, a few of which are blatant contrivances. But the focus is on Veronica and her crew, played superbly by Davis, Elizabeth Debicki, Michelle Rodriguez, and Cynthia Erivo.

Rango (Gore Verbinski, 2011)

Cast: voices of Johnny Depp, Isla Fisher, Abigail Breslin, Ned Beatty, Alfred Molina, Bill Nighy, Stephen Root, Harry Dean Stanton, Timothy Olyphant, Ray Winstone. Screenplay: John Logan, Gore Verbinski, James Ward Byrkit. Cinematography: Roger Deakins. Production design: Mark "Crash" McCreery. Film editing: Craig Wood. Music: Hans Zimmer.

Rango's Oscar win for best animated feature is anomalous: The award typically goes to a product of the Disney/Pixar factory. And unlike the usual winners, the characters aren't the usual cuddly figures destined for the toy shelves, but a gnarly selection of lizards and rodents and other desert creatures, centered on Rango himself, a bulbous-eyed chameleon voiced brilliantly by Johnny Depp. Visually, then, Rango is aimed more at adult audiences than at the kiddies. On the other hand, its story is the usual excuse for harmless mayhem that is the stuff of most animated features. There is a good deal of wit in the film, much of it aimed at Western-movie clichés, but I found that on the whole it left me a little cold. There's something to be said for cuddliness after all.

The Ring (Gore Verbinski, 2002)

The Ring (Gore Verbinski, 2002)

Cast: Naomi Watts, Martin Henderson, David Dorfman, Brian Cox, Jane Alexander, Lindsay Frost, Amber Tamblyn, Rachael Bella, Daveigh Chase, Shannon Cochran, Sandra Thigpen. Screenplay: Ehren Kruger, based on a novel by Koji Suzuki and a screenplay by Hiroshi Takahashi. Cinematography: Bojan Bazelli. Production design: Tom Duffield. Film editing: Craig Wood. Music: Hans Zimmer.

There's not much chance of watching any videotape these days, let alone a haunted one, so if The Ring were remade today it would have to be ... what? A murderous TikTok? A satanic tweet? (Though maybe we've had a few of those lately.) That's just to say that horror films become obsolete quickly, unless they're made with a surer hand than Gore Verbinski's. The director strives for a sense of gathering doom in his film, using gloomy weather and isolated settings to good effect, but even the creepy video looks like nothing more than, as Martin Henderson's Noah suggests, a short made by a student in a film class. Naomi Watts is, as always, effective, and she gets good support from Henderson and young David Dorfman as the genre's familiar weird little kid. Huge talents like Brian Cox and Jane Alexander are welcome in their small roles. But the film doesn't give them enough substance as characters for me to feel concerned about their fate, and the supposedly threatening closing scene, in which it's hinted that we're all at risk because we've watched the video ourselves, falls flat.

Insignificance (Nicolas Roeg, 1985)

Insignificance (Nicolas Roeg, 1985)

Cast: Theresa Russell, Michael Emil, Gary Busey, Tony Curtis, Will Sampson, Patrick Kilpatrick. Screenplay: Terry Johnson. Cinematography: Peter Hannan. Production design: David Brockhurst. Film editing: Tony Lawson. Music: Stanley Myers, Hans Zimmer.

The imaginary conversation, bringing together people who never really met, is a time-honored way of exploring ideas, which is what Terry Johnson had in mind when he wrote a play about the encounter of Marilyn Monroe, Albert Einstein, Joe McCarthy, and Joe DiMaggio in a hotel room in 1952. To emphasize the fact that it was a play about ideas, he didn't call them by their real names but labeled them The Actress, The Professor, The Senator, and The Ballplayer. They could have been called Sex, Intellect, Politics, and Muscle, for all that matters. What we have in the film version is a sometimes provocative but for the most part muddled intersection of people whose myths are larger than their actuality. In the movie's best scene, Marilyn uses some toys and balloons to demonstrate to Einstein that she actually knows the theory of relativity. Whether she understands it, she admits, is another matter. At this point, the film verges on something like an exploration of ideas, the relationship between knowledge and understanding. But that's too much for a film to explore and still hold an audience's attention, so mostly we are left in Insignificance with an exploration of personalities, riddled with flashbacks to scenes from the lives of Marilyn, Einstein, and DiMaggio -- but not, interestingly, to McCarthy's life, which makes his inclusion in this stew of celebrities a problem to be pondered. He's there primarily to underscore Einstein's sense of guilt at having come up with ideas that contributed to the creation of the atomic bomb and hence the Cold War that caused the rise of McCarthyism. There's really no way to resolve the various conflicts among the characters than to end with a fantasy scene in which the hotel room is destroyed in an atomic cataclysm -- only to reverse the footage of destruction for a scene in which Marilyn bids Einstein goodbye. In the end, the film becomes mostly a story about the loss of identity suffered by celebrities, aided by some very good performances but undercut by a surplus of images that demand but don't reward interpretation.

My Beautiful Laundrette (Stephen Frears, 1985)

Cast: Gordon Warnecke, Daniel Day-Lewis, Roshan Seth, Saeed Jaffrey, Shirley Anne Field, Rita Wolf, Derrick Branche. Screenplay: Hanif Kureishi. Cinematography: Oliver Stapleton. Production design: Hugo Luczyc-Wyhowski. Film editing: Mick Audsley. Music: Stanley Myers, Hans Zimmer.

A fusillade across the bow of Thatcherite Britain, My Beautiful Laundrette manages to take on racism, homophobia, and capitalist entrepreneurship all in one breathtaking moment. It also served as a breakthrough film for Daniel Day-Lewis as Johnny, a gay skinhead with an Anglo-Pakistani lover, Omar (Gordon Warnecke).

Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)

Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)

Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ellen Page, Tom Hardy, Ken Watanabe, Dileep Rao, Cillian Murphy, Tom Berenger, Marion Cotillard, Michael Caine. Cinematography: Wally Pfister. Production design: Guy Hendrix Dyas. Film editing: Lee Smith. Music: Hans Zimmer.

Crimson Tide (Tony Scott, 1995)

Denzel Washington and Gene Hackman in Crimson Tide

Lt. Commander Ron Hunter: Denzel Washington
Capt. Frank Ramsey: Gene Hackman
COB Walters: George Dzundza
Lt. Roy Zimmer: Matt Craven
Lt. Peter Ince: Viggo Mortensen
Lt. Bobby Dougherty: James Gandolfini
Lt. Darik Westerguard: Rocky Carroll
Petty Officer Danny Rivetti: Danny Nucci
Petty Officer Third Class Russell Vossler: Lillo Brancato Jr.
Officer of the Deck Mahoney: Jaime P. Gomez
Chief of the Watch Hunsicker: Michael Milhoan
Tactical Supervising Officer Billy Linkletter: Scott Burkholder
Lt. Paul Hellerman: Ricky Schroeder
Seaman William Barnes: Steve Zahn
Rear Admiral Anderson: Jason Robards

Director: Tony Scott
Screenplay: Michael Schiffer, Richard P. Henrick
Cinematography: Dariusz Wolski
Production design: Michael White
Film editing: Chris Lebenzon
Music: Hans Zimmer

I miss Gene Hackman. That is, I miss new movies with Gene Hackman in them. Lord knows he made enough movies before he up and decided to retire in 2004; IMDb credits him with 100 titles, including some TV series he appeared in before Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967) gave his career the boost it needed. There was a time when he seemed to be vying with Michael Caine to be in every movie made. Which is as it should be: I don't know many actors who could bring such nuance to roles like the submarine captain in Tony Scott's Crimson Tide, carefully cutting his new XO, Hunter, down to size before his fellow officers. Notice the way he says "Harvard" in reading from Hunter's résumé, trying to suggest that Hunter is overqualified for the position and that he, Ramsey, makes up for lack of intellectual achievement with experience. Hackman and Denzel Washington are beautifully matched performers in this battle, Washington riding with the punches. Both play with the racial tension between the two characters, with Hackman making it clear that Ramsey regards Hunter as "uppity." He constantly calls Hunter "son" in a way that makers it sound like he's saying "boy."  Even when Ramsey gratuitously brings up the fact that that the Lipizzaner stallions are white and Hunter retorts that they were born black, there's a delicate restraint in the exchange in which Hackman makes Ramsey's insecurity and Washington makes Hunter's toughness manifest. All of this is bolstered by a gallery of fine supporting performances, clever dialogue in which Quentin Tarantino reportedly had a hand, and a stirring score by Hans Zimmer that makes effective use of the naval hymn "Eternal Father, Strong to Save." Crimson Tide rises well above the level of most action movies, so much so that we almost regret that the film has to fall back on suspense clichés in which the world is saved from destruction at the last second.

Dunkirk (Christopher Nolan, 2017)

Tommy: Fionn Whitehead
Gibson: Aneurin Barnard
George: Barry Keoghan
Mr. Dawson: Mark Rylance
Peter: Tom Glynn-Carney
Farrier: Tom Hardy
Collins: Jack Lowden
Commander Bolton: Kenneth Branagh
Col. Winant: James D'Arcy
Shivering Soldier: Cillian Murphy
Alex: Harry Styles
Dutch Seaman: Jochum ten Haaf

Director: Christopher Nolan
Screenplay: Christopher Nolan
Cinematography: Hoyte Van Hoytema
Production design: Nathan Crowley
Film editing: Lee Smith
Music: Hans Zimmer

I've said it before: If a movie's story and performances are secondary to its spectacle, is it really a good movie? I'm sure Christopher Nolan's Dunkirk was something to see in an IMAX theater, but truth to tell, I'm just as happy to have watched it in HD on my 32-inch Samsung. I don't mind losing the giddy spectacle of riding the waves or flying in pursuit of German fighter planes, so long as there's real artistry in the storytelling, the acting, and the production. I've liked Nolan's work with some reservations since I first encountered it in Memento (2000). I admired his ability to revivify the Batman story, but found the films in his trilogy a little wearying. I was kind of bowled over by the audacity of the concepts and their execution in Inception (2010), but Interstellar (2014) made me fear the worst: that he was so infatuated with cutting-edge film technology and with far-out science fiction speculations that he might never come back down to Earth. So Dunkirk was a relief to me: This is traditional war-movie filmmaking with a splendid contemporary spin, mostly in the way the story is told through cuts back and forth in time. This so-called "non-linear" narrative technique bothered some traditionalists, but I found it both illuminated the characters and suggested some of the tension and chaos of the actual Dunkirk evacuation. Best of all, Nolan forgoes CGI for the most part, using actual ships and planes or convincing models of them, giving the action a much-needed solidity. He also doesn't yield to the temptation to lard his film with star cameos, letting mostly unknown young actors carry the burden of the story. The stars who do appear -- Mark Rylance, Tom Hardy, Kenneth Branagh, Cillian Murphy -- behave themselves, blending into the cast nicely. Hardy, for example, is capable of scene-stealing physicality, but he spends most of the film acting with only his eyes, the rest of his face covered by his pilot's breathing apparatus. (When he's liberated from that restriction at the end, I almost feared for the Germans who captured him.) Every genre movie has its clichés, of course, but a good writer and director -- Nolan is both -- knows how to work them, how to avoid stumbling over them and instead give them just enough weight to satisfy our expectations, as he does in the scene in which the returning soldiers, fearful that they'll be cursed and spat upon for losing the battle, are greeted at the train station with people cheering and handing them bottles of beer. He also handles the celebrated speech by Winston Churchill with finesse, never introducing Churchill as an on-screen character and having the speech itself read by the rescued men, as it should be. It's as stirring a moment as one could wish.

Gladiator (Ridley Scott, 2000)

Richard Harris and Russell Crowe in Gladiator

Maximus: Russell Crowe
Commodus: Joaquin Phoenix
Lucilla: Connie Nielsen
Proximo: Oliver Reed
Marcus Aurelius: Richard Harris
Gracchus: Derek Jacobi
Juba: Djimon Hounsou
Falco: David Schofield
Gaius: John Shrapnel
Quintus: Thomas Arana
Hagen: Ralf Moeller
Lucius: Spencer Treat Clark
Cassius: David Hemmings
Cicero: Tommy Flanagan
Tigris: Sven-Ole Thorsen
Slave Trader: Omid Djalili

Director: Ridley Scott
Screenplay: David Franzoni, John Logan, William Nicholson
Cinematography: John Mathieson
Production design: Arthur Max
Film editing: Pietro Scalia
Music: Lisa Gerrard, Hans Zimmer

"Are you not entertained?" Well, to answer the question Maximus bellows at the crowd: No, not very much.

The Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan, 2008)

Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight

Bruce Wayne: Christian Bale
Joker: Heath Ledger
Harvey Dent: Aaron Eckhart
Alfred: Michael Caine
Rachel: Maggie Gyllenhaal
Lucius Fox: Morgan Freeman

Director: Christopher Nolan
Screenplay: Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan, David S. Goyer
Cinematography: Wally Pfister
Production design: Nathan Crowley
Film editing: Lee Smith
Music: James Newton Howard, Hans Zimmer

I have never really understood the appeal of Batman, or really of Bruce Wayne: a superwealthy technocrat whose compulsive dressing up to hide his identity seems like silly bit of role-playing rather than an essential element of his superheroism. Moreover, he always seems to be outshone by his villainous adversaries, whose own dressing up is a manifestation of psychosis that eerily mirrors his own. So I'm not as enthusiastic as some are about the rebooting of the comic book hero as a dark knight, rather than the old TV series' campy avatar of the character. The best thing about The Dark Knight is clearly the re-imagining of the Joker and the superb performance by Heath Ledger. Otherwise, I found the usual slam-bang action rather tiresome.

Hidden Figures (Theodore Melfi, 2016)

Ron Clinton Smith, Octavia Spencer, Taraji P. Henson, and Janelle Monáe in Hidden Figures

Katherine G. Johnson: Taraji P. Henson
Dorothy Vaughan: Octavia Spencer
Mary Jackson: Janelle Monáe
Al Harrison: Kevin Costner
Vivian Mitchell: Kirsten Dunst
Paul Stafford: Jim Parsons
Jim Johnson: Mahershala Ali
Levi Jackson: Aldis Hodge
John Glenn: Glen Powell

Director: Theodore Melfi
Screenplay: Allison Schroeder, Theodore Melfi
Based on a book by Margot Lee Shetterly
Cinematography: Mandy Walker
Production design: Wynn Thomas
Music: Benjamin Wallfisch, Pharrell Williams, Hans Zimmer

What's so bad about feeling good? Hidden Figures was 2016's sleeper hit, a feel-good movie that's almost critic-proof because of its good intentions: to tell the stirring, long-neglected story of how black women mathematicians made a significant contribution to the 1960s American space program. It has some terrific performances from Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, and Janelle Monáe as three of the women, and they get strong support from Kevin Costner and Kirsten Dunst as slightly uptight white folks who can't quite believe that these black women are up to the task they have to set for them. But one place that the film falters is in casting the likes of Costner and Dunst, well-known Hollywood stars, in those roles: They introduce a note of imbalance in the film, evoking not only the "white savior" figure but also suggesting that the struggle of whites to accept black people as equals is on a par with the struggle of African Americans to gain that equality. The film also tries to evoke the horrors of Jim Crow by departing from actuality: Katherine Johnson didn't have to sprint across the NASA complex to find a "colored" restroom -- she simply used the one available -- and the scene in which Costner's character smashes the sign outside the segregated restroom is fictional. The early scene in which a white cop comes upon the three women whose car has broken down is meant to create tension, but it too quickly dissipates into feel-goodism when he learns that they're working at NASA and patriotically gives them an escort to work -- doing his part to thwart the commies. A black director and screenwriters -- Theodore Melfi and Allison Schroeder are white -- might have kept these suggestions that "white folks were really good at heart" more in balance with the depictions of not only the real pain caused by segregation but also the actual work done by the women.