Constantine (2005)

Before the comic fans start typing: yes, John Constantine is supposed to be a blond Brit, and no, Keanu Reeves does not even attempt it. That’s not the real problem. The real problem is a pile of mumbled lore about spears, prophecies and half-demons that nobody explains twice. Critics let it have it (46% on Rotten Tomatoes). The internet never got the memo: it holds a 7.0 on IMDb from 414,633 ratings. I’m with the internet. Keanu plays an exorcist who’s dying, out of favors and too tired to be polite to angels, which is a whole mood. His shotgun is shaped like a cross. Tilda Swinton’s Gabriel is the most unsettling angel ever put on screen, calm, glowing and completely wrong. Rachel Weisz gives the twin sister mystery more than it gives her, and Shia LaBeouf mostly drives the car. A 6.8 because the atmosphere is immaculate and the story reads like a stack of footnotes. $279 says the next time you see Tilda Swinton in anything, you sit up a little straighter, just in case.

What works: Keanu’s weary, deadpan exorcist, Tilda Swinton’s eerie Gabriel and a grimy, yellowed Los Angeles that feels genuinely haunted.

What doesn’t: The plot buries itself in lore and rules that never get explained clearly, and Shia LaBeouf’s sidekick barely registers until the end.

Who it’s for: Fans of moody supernatural noir who care more about atmosphere than airtight plotting.