I expected “Gun Crazy” to be more dangerous than it is, which is maybe a strange thing to say about a movie built on of guns, sex, robbery, and a general sense of doom.

Spielberg has been saying for years that he wanted to make a film about aliens being real and the cover-up being real and the disclosure being real, and I was prepared to spend two hours in a comfortable seat being a dick about it.

I came to “Shadow” with one read already in my head. This was the apology film.

I have seen The Truman Show more times than I can responsibly admit, and it’s never felt like the same movie twice.

I asked my kid, who is an EMT and who actually goes to these scenes, whether stringers really show up at accidents the way Lou Bloom does, before the bodies are covered. Absolutely, was the answer. Almost every time.

“Brick” is a high school movie with no interest in remembering high school stuff.

To think… the snow was an accident.

The Zhang Yimou I know, the Zhang of Ju Dou and Raise the Red Lantern, is a stylist. Color is a primary language. Composition is buried in his politics. The red lanterns in front of a closed gate carry more argument than dialogue. I came to To Live expecting that Zhang. He didn’t show.

“Cam” is a snake eating itself. It’s also one of the bravest American horror movies of the last decade and nobody’s allowed to watch it anymore because Netflix decided it didn’t need to be in the library. We shall make of this what we will.

I went into this expecting to be terrified and I came out of it hopeful and that’s the whole twist of the movie, I think.