Bill Goodykoontz

Ultimately, the best relationship in the movie remains that of Holmes and Watson, which is to say, Downey and Law. Their pairing is what makes the movie; the explosions and bells and whistles Ritchie employs are mere distractions.

The Protégé has so many cool elements, so many reasons that it should be better than it is. Chief among them are Maggie Q, Keaton and Jackson. But they can only do so much, and ultimately the film feels flat. Like so many of the hapless anonymous bad guys, it just can’t hit the mark.

The film, like most of MacFarlane's work, is a mix of occasional laugh-out-loud moments — there are some here — and cringe-worthy misfires that play a lot more tone-deaf than he seems to intend.

Woodley makes Tris easy to root for — only she and Winslet seem to be having any fun — but it's hard to become invested in the convoluted, rambling story. And at two hours and 19 minutes, it rambles for a while.

Maybe Rubber is an homage, maybe it's a statement on horror films and their audiences, maybe it's a total goof.

It’s got a great beat and you can dance to it (or Jackman, Efron and the rest can, anyway). And Barnum would have loved it.

Just good enough to pique your curiosity, but never quite good enough to captivate.

It’s all predictable and, despite the best efforts of Turteltaub and screenwriter Dan Fogelman at something a little risky, it’s pretty lame.

Cash was the star, after all. Saul Holiff was an important part of that, but My Father and the Man in Black makes a rather clunky case for it.

It never quite adds up. You can’t shake the feeling that both Scott and McCarthy are aiming for something here that remains out of their reach.

Song One is an odd little movie. It seems as if there is more going on than there is, which you realize after it's over. As pleasant diversions in the moment go, however, you could do much worse.

Although the film features a powerhouse performance by Clarke Peters as Da Good Bishop Enouch Rouse, it's saddled with a sloppy story.

Clearly set up to be the first film in a franchise. It's not a bad movie, but I wouldn't hold my breath for that.

There’s far too little of MacArthur’s strutting on display. Granted, that’s not the movie Webber was making. But you kind of wish it was.

All the action leads inexorably toward the unavoidable destination.

The best thing about the movie, by far, is Green. Her Artemisia is a real nut case with a taste for blood, and Green is the only one in the cast who seems to be having any fun at all.

Movies like this are supposed to be ridiculous on some level. It's part of the fun. But, dang. Falling through space, popping your parachute and landing on the one empty stretch of freeway in some bustling future city? C'mon. We all have our limits.

It's effective, entertaining in a remarkably uncomfortable way but entertaining all the same.

Red Right Hand wants to be a kudzu-covered, Southern-fried crime story, a morality tale set in the “hills” as rich as pig knuckles from a jar in a juke joint. Mostly it’s just a dopey mob movie with Southern accents of varying quality — predictable and cliched.

It is a somber slog through the lives of one miserable wretch after another.

Admission is pleasant enough. Even when off a bit, the talent of the cast assures that. But it’s still a disappointment. You might say it, ahem, doesn’t make the grade.

You’d think a move about the potential for the destruction of universes would feel pretty high stakes, but this one doesn’t. Nor does it connect on the family drawn together through adversity front.

The gossip will die down, presumably, but the film will remain. And what will stand out about it in the future is what stands out now: Pugh absolutely nailing the role of a woman trapped in a too-good-to-be-true scenario, and slowly coming around to that realization.

I Feel Pretty is a good idea that never quite clicks the way it should

Typically actors like Winslet and Elba can elevate even the most-pedestrian material, but making this story better would require a feat of superhuman strength.

The singing is terrific, particularly whenever Hudson belts out a number (and there is really no other way to describe her powerhouse vocals). But the story is trite and predictable, if heartfelt.

There are some scares here, in the same way that there is some pain when you hit your thumb with a hammer. Blunt force carries a lot of power. But there isn’t a lot of thought. It’s the same idea as the first movie, just not as well-done.

You come to a Godzilla movie for the epic fights, and on that front, Dougherty delivers.

Scott does a nice job with the first part of the film, setting the stage for what is ultimately a disappointing conclusion.

Percy Jackson isn't a great movie, but it's a good one, trotting out kernels of Greek mythology like so many Disney Channel references. For the most part, it works.

It offers Bratt maybe his best role ever as Che, a tough-guy neighborhood personality struggling to come to grips with his son's homosexuality.

There is a fine line between silly dumb fun and out-and-out stupidity, and “Red 2” crosses it one time too many.

Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb is a rather lackluster affair, a cash grab that tries to aim a little higher but confuses sappy shortcuts with real emotion.

The images are impressive. But the characters and their development leave something to be desired.

Probably it's a combination of those and other elements that leads to Diaz's bad teacher not being as bad as she might have been and Bad Teacher not as good as it could have been.

Dog Days isn't so much a movie as an emotional delivery system, meant to make you laugh a little, cry a little and say, "Awww" about 10,000 times. On that front, it's a complete success. As an actual film, well, not so much.

The bad news - it's not interesting enough to be a disaster.

Verbinski manages some squirm-worthy moments, and cinematographer Bojan Bazelli creates a creepy look throughout. But the story doesn’t make sense as it goes along and then devolves into absurdity.

The first scene in Jack Reacher: Never Go Back promises something interesting but delivers something considerably less. That’s a problem with the whole movie.

Winslet and Davis salvage what they can from the movie — a heroic effort, almost, making it a fun trifle, albeit one with some deadly serious overtones.

We’re left with some fun, funny and occasionally scary set pieces, but the slices don’t add up to a whole pizza, as it were.

If this is the end — and who are we kidding, the film’s box-office returns will determine that, not its plot — it’s a disappointing one. But it’s long past time to let it die.

It’s not going to make you forget “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” or “Bambi” or “Frozen” or “Tangled,” but elements of it might remind you of them. Which is by design.

By the time the main vampire shows up, Salem’s Lot has already been rendered toothless.

The problem is the movie itself – the script, the editing, the construction, all of which combine to make the whole thing feel flat, lifeless and confusing.

A movie with a title like Puerto Ricans in Paris comes with certain expectations. Low ones. Thanks to the efforts of Luis Guzman — and they are mighty — Ian Edelman's slight film manages to rise above them. Not by much, but above them, still.

When he’s on, Stewart’s skewer is sharp indeed.

It’s nobody’s masterpiece, but it is an exceptionally promising start for Mohr, making his feature debut as a director.

Sometimes it’s absurdist comedy. Sometimes it’s dark comedy. Sometimes it’s out-and-out killing-people drama (almost, but not quite). It’s often funny, but it never quite hangs together as a coherent movie.

There are some compelling elements here, probably too many for one film, but they're too often presented in a cliched way. Connor and co-director Michael Worth go for the easy sentiment, the expected route, leading to middling results.

Although it has some serious flaws, it rises above genre fare, thanks to Greg Kinnear's intriguing performance and the work of a good cast.

This isn't a terrible movie. It just falls flat, in almost every way. It exists and not much else. It's all too predictable, and way too heavy-handed.

The Alto Knights is a good movie, but one that feels like it could have been great. And for what it’s worth, although I’m still not sure why it’s here, De Niro’s Pesci imitation is killer.

Without real innovation or story evolution, Blair Witch becomes a trip down a rabbit hole of misery and suffering.

Has a big-name cast, a cute premise and... and... hang on, thinking here. Nope. That's about it.

Shankman gets enormously entertaining performances from Tom Cruise and Alec Baldwin, so much so that it's a problem: The movie's not about them.

Odd indeed. In a good way, mostly.

There is an element of sadness to this story that’s necessary to make it effective. Take that away and you’re left with a cute kids’ tale that doesn’t trust younger audiences to process the elements that can be difficult — and that make it better.

Murray occasionally shows flashes of his comic genius, but only flashes.

If you are a stickler for movies that follow the laws of, say, physics, nature and common sense, The A-Team might not be for you. If, on the other hand, you get a kick out of exchanges like this - "Are they trying to shoot down that other drone?" "No. They're trying to fly that tank" - then you're in for a treat.

The acting is good, the story of doomed lovers suitably tragic. But the film is never quite moving in the way one would hope.

The dialogue is particularly bad, which is odd because the Duplass crowd typically excels at natural-sounding dialogue.

Gringo dabbles in several genres, none particularly well.

Burke and Hare is a waste of a good cast and a better story, as well as a hollow reminder of how John Landis seemingly has lost his touch.

There is no denying that the environmental message is heavy-handed.

Ultimately, however, what prevents The Oranges from being the movie it might have been is Farino's inability to settle on a tone.

It’s not as terrible as the premise suggests, thanks to some flourishes on Joseph’s part and an intriguing performance by Wes Bentley. Efron’s absurdly winning persona doesn’t hurt, either.

Luckily, Horn is so good -- as is Max von Sydow, in a wordless role -- that the film resonates in spite of the tear-jerking strings Daldry pulls.

As reinventions of fairy tales go, this one has some pretty big holes. Not all of the twists on the story work, but for the most part it's well-meaning, goofy good fun.

It’s long on violence and short on storytelling. It aims high, working in the realm of myths, but it does so in hit-or-miss fashion.

A by-the-numbers, good-vs.-evil tale.

The promising beginning shows that it could have been something more than dumb. Alas, it’s not.

There's plenty of gross-out humor and lots of sex jokes, some of them absurd, some really funny. But what elevates She's Out of My League - it doesn't turn a 5 into a 10, but it helps - is heart, of which its characters have a surprising plenty.

To stay fresh, you have to evolve. Rodriguez and Miller have stayed the same.

From its bland title to its fair-to-middlin' story, mediocre is the word that fits How Do You Know perfectly.

The problem is that almost everything in the film feels either forced or false, so the tears aren't earned.

Yes, there are sex scenes in the film, quite a few. But for a movie where people are naked for a large chunk of time and play at bondage and dominance (without ever really seeming all that committed to it), it sure is boring.

It's an interesting idea that loses steam as it gains gore. The development of the story is much better than the payoff. It's fun while it lasts.

Whether you like The Meg depends on how much you like seeing Jason Statham in and out of a wetsuit, doing action-hero things. He's certainly good at it, and he's the best thing about the movie, not that the competition is particularly fierce.

The Last Days on Mars isn’t a disaster. Robinson, in fact, shows some promise. It’s just not much of anything, a movie ultimately as barren as the landscape on which it takes place.

How you feel about Knight and Day will depend largely on your feelings about Cruise. If you can't divorce his performance from his off-screen antics, well, that's a problem, here and elsewhere. If you're willing to watch what's on-screen and leave it at that, there's fun to be had.

Give writer and director John Logan points for creativity, exceptional inclusion and casting Kevin Bacon. But the movie could have used a lot more of the camp-slasher horror part.

If nothing else it’ll dazzle your senses, even on a small screen.

It’s a movie devoid of storytelling momentum, conflict and, worst of all, much in the way of laughs.

Kevin Kline makes a terrific Errol Flynn. He just picked the wrong movie to prove it.

Vincent Grashaw's film, although well-meaning (as a postscript reminds us), tries too hard, both in content and form.

The film has lots of effects and action and loads of Chris Pratt. What it needs more of is heart.

There is a sweetness to Radnor's character and to his film. What there is not is a sense of urgency, of a desire to find out what happens next.

The overall feel is one of a generic, feel-good drama, albeit one with Harrison Ford stomping around most of the time as if someone kicked him in the shins. One suspects that this is a story that deserved better.

Justice League is, if flawed, at least a step in the right direction. But there's still a journey ahead.

Overall the film is goofy, slight, without a truly deep thought in its pretty little head. And for a movie with vampires and werewolves, the only scary thing is in the title - "Part 1," which means "Part 2" is on its way. Shudder.

The best thing about the movie is Matthew Rhys.

Ole Bornedal's film hits enough high notes to make it a worthwhile addition to the exorcism-film heap, somewhere in the lower middle.

Depp's performance is still one of the few bright spots in the movie. Richards is back, too, in an all-too-brief appearance as Sparrow's father.

Jolie Pitt is going for a European cinema vibe here, but all the smoking, drinking and speaking in French can’t disguise the fact that there isn’t a lot going on here. Filmmakers reserve every right to demand patience from their audiences, but they have to provide a worthwhile payoff in the end. By the Sea simply doesn’t.

"Southern fried" is as good a phrase as any to describe The Paperboy...It fits, really, because it causes the same reaction. You eat a mess of fried okra or tater tots, and it's tasty going down. It's only after you're done that you feel a little queasy. [18 Oct 2012]

Paolo Virzi’s film, based on a novel by Michael Zadoorian, holds few surprises, leaving us with some enjoyable set pieces in a disappointing movie.

Intruders promises much but delivers relatively little.

Mean-spirited.

If Eastwood wanted to use the real men, a documentary would have been just as powerful and more dramatically satisfying. Instead, the acting is distracting. The film’s intentions are sterling. Its execution, not so much.

What a mess. Its meandering plot draws attention to the alarming lack of laughs — not what you look for in a supposed comedy.

Paint is one of those good ideas that doesn’t quite make a good movie. Until it does.

The story lacks the same intensity of the original. Not that everyone will have seen the first one. Those who have will almost certainly find the new version lacking. Those who haven’t will find a solid mystery, nothing more. Given the cast, that’s a letdown.

Several good performances are left adrift, as the characters roam from scene to scene, singing (quite well) as they go. Even as a sort of long-form music video, it's disjointed.

Credit Joris-Peyrafitte for creating the dark, grungy world of the movie, and for making it compelling enough that you don’t want to flee it immediately. You may not want to revisit it — this is not the sort of movie that demands repeat viewings — but “The Good Mother” is a perfectly fine film.

Seriously, the movie is pretty awful, but Johnson, as ever, seems to be having a ball, even when he’s all serious and concerned and shot up and beaten up and building-dropped-upon.

You see this cast, you expect to see a lot of violent action. And in that regard, The Expendables delivers, and then some. In this case, then, the old saying applies: Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.

Of the bunch, Plaza, Minghella and Parker fare best, though Parker's Ben is weighed down with cliches. Alex ostensibly is the focal point of the film, but Ritter is relegated mostly to observer status, healing while watching the melodramas unfold around him. A few of them are interesting. But not enough, not in a story that seems familiar because, after all, it is.

Writers and directors Aron Gaudet and Gita Pullapilly can’t seem to decided whether to make an offbeat comedy about two under-appreciated women turning to crime or a mismatched buddy cop comedy. So they made both. It’s not a seamless fit.

Overall the film never finds its footing, with its awkward shifts in tone accentuating the unease. There’s something a little off, and it’s Carell. We want to like him in comedies. It’s a big part of what’s made him a star. The Incredible Burt Wonderstone never really gives us the chance.

Meanwhile, the Russos are ensuring that you never forget you’re watching a movie, and a stylized one at that. Note the names of the banks Holland’s character robs, for instance, or other little details. Granted, the person telling the story — Holland’s character — is an unreliable narrator for much of the film. But there’s a fine line between spicing things up and showing off.

At its best Power Rangers plays a little like a low-rent “Breakfast Club.” Unfortunately it’s not always at its best, and when it’s not, you get exactly what you’d expect: generic teen hero fare.

This trip isn’t so notable. It’s not bad. Some bits are enjoyable. But ultimately, other than some genuinely impressive visuals, it never makes a compelling-enough case to justify its existence.

MacFarlane's film is too broad, too dumb, too offensive to justify the meager laughs it generates.

Levine shows some of the promise that would serve him so well later, but beyond an intriguing look and an initial attempt to put a new spin on the teen-horror genre, “Mandy Lane” winds up being pretty conventional.

There's nothing particularly off-putting about the movie. It's all right. But neither is there anything especially compelling. In the context of this cast, another descriptive word comes to mind: disappointing.

The Marksman is not awful. It’s not particularly good, either, but it’s not the disaster it should have been. Part of that has to do with the way Lorenz stages the action — well-choreographed and tense. Part of it has to do with Perez, who combines being adorable with a kind of hard-won wisdom beyond his years that makes for a completely winning character.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a movie in search of a reason to exist. Despite a needlessly excessive running time, it never finds one.

The Miracle Season is a pleasant surprise, the rare inspirational sports movie that actually earns its tears.

It’s better than a “Transformers” movie. Is that damning with faint praise? I’m not sure it’s praise at all. But it is true. Pacific Rim Uprising is, at least for about half the movie, better than a Michael Bay exercise in eardrum shattering. The sequel isn’t as good as the original, however, which probably isn’t a surprise.

There are some nice messages of inclusion, but they’re crowded out by a big dumb action scene at the end.

If the story is somewhat lacking, Cox is terrific.

Barely Lethal has some laughs, and will probably serve nicely as a movie you can land on for a few minutes when it shows up on cable. But it slides into the rote generic-teen-comedy mode too soon to be anything more.

A stripped-down affair, from title to characters to plot. It never strives to be more, instead concentrating on making the most of its self-imposed limitations.

Brutal, sadistic yet well-made statement about how violence is portrayed in media and our reaction to it.

Into the Storm plays like a special-effects demonstration in search of a movie, but you have to give it to the filmmakers: They take no half-measures.

We’re the Millers plays like a “Saturday Night Live” skit that goes on too long.

Yes, questions regarding violence and mayhem are drowned out by violence and mayhem. Such is the superhero life as directed by Zack Snyder. There is no problem that can't be solved with a cranium-rattling explosion or two.

It all falls flat. Not completely — there is simply too much talent involved for the film to fail completely.

In fairness, you can say that Mortal Kombat is pretty much exactly what you expect it to be. It’s clearly meant as the first film in a renewed franchise. But for me, it’s game over.

The Losers does a perfectly serviceable job of achieving its low ambitions.

It's paper thin, floating away when it's over without leaving a strong impression one way or another.

If you're willing to accept Killer Elite as a shoot-'em-up action movie with good actors taking the spots of the usual lunk heads (but spouting the usual nonsense), you'll be pleased with the film.

Director Wes Ball's film is a mad dash from one place to the next, with little time in between for rest, recuperation or plot development.

The purpose of San Andreas is not to make us think, but to make us gape, to pummel us with effect and effect until we finally give in. Fair enough. Uncle. I need a Tylenol anyway.

American Pastoral is a movie, like the Pulitzer Prize-winning Philip Roth novel on which it is based, dense with passion, politics and historical import. But Ewan McGregor, directing his first feature, never brings the film fully to life.

Any film that reminds us that the work for equality is far from done is traveling a worthy path. This one just could have done it better.

It's a noble attempt at meaningful comedy-drama, but Braff struggles with shifting tones while mismanaging his own character. It's easier to appreciate the effort than it is to enjoy the film.

It's big and it's loud, but ultimately not much more than that.

The movie plays like a missed opportunity, with its by-the-numbers scares and a story that feels disjointed, hurried in some places, slow in others.

Awash in mawkish sentimentality, Dear John still will move you deeply - if you're a 12-year-old girl.

Daisy Edgar-Jones is affecting and effective as Kya, known to redneck townsfolk as “The Marsh Girl.” If only the filmmaking and screenwriting were as good as her performance. It’s really just a swampy Southern Gothic soap opera at heart, with designs on being something more.

Newton's character is the only one we really become invested in. At least that's something. But Good Deeds leaves you wanting much more.

Director Marc Forster moves from one thing to the next so quickly the movie plays like a two-hour-plus trailer. Something feels like it's missing here, even at that length.

It’s a big disappointment, not least because of its talented cast, and Bell’s obvious talents as a filmmaker.

If there is a saving grace to Monte Carlo, it's that the frothy film strikes a nice balance between the ridiculous and the, well, slightly less ridiculous.

It’s often cloying, absurdly melodramatic, and the premise exists largely as a tear-manufacturing device.

Scoob! is a poorly written, nonsensical animated update of the Scooby gang.

There are some funny bits, to be sure. You can’t bring this bunch together without a few hits among the misses. But despite McKinnon’s best efforts, it’s just not enough. This is one Office Christmas Party you can skip.

It is incredibly stupid. Gleefully stupid. Relentlessly stupid. It’s also really funny. Is it any good? That does not seem to be a major consideration.

It's a competently made movie - in Jackson's hands it could hardly be anything but - yet rarely a moving one.

Nanjiani is kind of like Bill Murray. There's just something about him that makes you anticipate something funny coming, if not now, soon, so why not start laughing? I don't know whether it would work in just any film, but here he's such an oasis of intelligence in a desert of comedic stupidity that I'd like to see if it would.

At least [Teller's] presence, along with Woodley's, makes Insurgent good, if not great. And it's not too late to keep improving.

What it has instead is really bad acting set against often-stunning cave-wall backdrops and underwater action sequences.

There’s a great journalism movie hidden in Bad Education. Forgive the biased viewpoint. Luckily, there’s also a really compelling, breezy comic crime drama — with a terrific performance by Hugh Jackman — sitting there in plain sight.

There’s a lot going on here, not much of it all that interesting. Although you do get to see Rob Lowe clomp around in the woods. And that's something.

Despite its looks, talent and pedigree, Transcendence never becomes the movie it could have been.

The Internship has some funny moments. The cast is too talented for it to come up completely dry. But for a movie about a place so filled with ambitious climbers, it is far too lazy.

Inferno...is the kind of movie that stops — and stoops — to explain, early and often. Not that the explanations amount to much; the movie makes almost no sense.

It’s surprising how much you miss the star power of the original Avengers bunch. Or maybe it’s not surprising. Whatever the case, watching this movie too often feels like you suspect there’s a better party going on next door, but you can’t get in.

The food, it must be said, is beautiful. (Mario Batali and Marcus Wareing were consultants on the film.) And Cooper, despite the shortcomings of the role as written, goes all in. So does Miller. This should be a better movie than it is.

Bad Samaritan is a horrible little movie with two things going for it: one wigged-out performance and one genuinely terrific line that's so great, you want to be able to say that it saves the film.

Subtle, it's not.

Doesn't really know what it wants to be. Morel would have done better to remember the "to thine own self be true" bit, and stayed with the dunderheaded shoot-'em-up vibe, with Travolta having a blast, often literally.

Plenty of families harbor resentments, but the goings-on here become ridiculous. Which is too bad, because Cold Turkey has the seeds of a good movie.

This "Transformers" is better than the second film (though that's not saying much), with some enjoyable bits here and there.

It's funny enough, and Grace is an engaging actor, always making a good impression but never quite getting over the hump to become the star it seems like he ought to be.

The cast is intriguing, with Uma Thurman, Christina Ricci and Kristin Scott Thomas as the targets of Pattinson's ambitious amour. But they're not given a whole lot to do -- at least not much that's interesting.

Todd Strauss-Schulson’s meta send-up of ’80s sex-equals-death slasher movies keeps its goofy good humor throughout, and tosses in a little almost-genuine feeling into the mix for good measure.

Suburbicon is a hybrid of two ideas — two movies, really — and it isn't clear whether either would have worked separately. What is clear is that they don't work together.

There are some fun bits in the film. Law is kind of funny, in and over-the-top, does-he-mean-to-be-like-this way. Hunnam is game for playing Arthur. But Ritchie, in his attempt to ensure there’s never a dull moment, makes it all exhausting.

The movie falls flat, playing like the best-cast bland romantic comedy you've ever seen.

Memory is a good-enough movie that could have been a lot better. Neeson is to thank for most of the good. Turns out he, like his characters, does have a particular set of skills. They involve acting.

The worst thing about What to Expect When You're Expecting, director Kirk Jones' fictionalized film version, is how fake it is, how cartoonish the experiences.

Dumb fun can be, well, fun. G.I. Joe: Retaliation is way too much of the former and not nearly enough of the latter.

Turns out there can be too much of a good thing. Or a campy thing. Or a silly thing. Or a subtle-as-a-brick-in-the-face thing.

The movie drags on way too long, but there are things to like.

Home Again is a romantic comedy with its heart in the right place. And that’s just about the only thing it has going for it. It’s facile, disingenuous, artificial in nearly every way.

While the good outweigh the bad, it's a close race. But what is good, particularly a heartbreaking performance by Allison Janney, is really good, enough so that Colfer emerges as a talent worth watching on the page, not just on the screen.

Directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller get nearly everything -- the tone, the self-referential nods to the shoe and the dead-solid-perfect surprises -- just right.

Pacino, long ago having given up subtlety for bombast, continues along that path here, but he's still fun to watch.

You can practically see Hart straining to break free of the script and let loose with a wild improvisational rant, and you never lose hope that he might. (Spoiler alert: He doesn’t.)

Without Remorse is neither a classic nor a failure; it falls somewhere in-between. But like Kelly on a seemingly doomed mission, there’s Jordan, giving it all he’s got to save the day.

With Sarah Palin: You Betcha! director Nick Broomfield manages to screw it up.

Kick-Ass 2 has a mean-spirited vigilante streak the first film lacked (it seemed more concerned with justice, in its way), as well as a fatigue. It’s still funny, particularly when Hit Girl spews profanity and wields weapons. It’s just not as good.

The story, based on the Michael Connelly novel, grows increasingly far-fetched - at times it plays like an expensive pilot for a TV series, maybe a "Young Barnaby Jones" or something.

I could see The Woman in the Window becoming a kind of channel-surfing cult classic. But not as long as Rear Window is out there somewhere, too.

There's no question that a soft-spoken person can be a great leader, but Caviezel underplays Ladouceur to the point that you wonder how the players could even hear him, much less be inspired by him.

The Day is not a classic, not by a long shot. But it's not a disaster, either. With movies like this, that counts as a small victory.

Where the film falters a bit is with the story. The final act is reminiscent of any of your garden-variety sci-fi adventure movies, which is a jolt after we’ve spent the rest of the movie watching these two figure each other out and try to make peace with their situation.

Director David Ayer is using the blood and guts to make a point about the insane violence committed by drug cartels, yes, but the bloodshed is unrelenting and, ultimately, exhausting.

What really saves Super Troopers 2, to the extent that it even wants to be saved, is how gleefully the Broken Lizard bunch goes about its work.

Josh C. Waller’s movie is just prurient nonsense, a film only a couple of notches up from the women-in-prison films that were popular years and years ago.

Blomkamp regular Sharlto Copley is quite good — as Chappie, in a motion-capture performance. (He also provides the voice of the robot.) If this were somehow a commentary on man's increasing lack of humanity or something, that would be fine. Instead, it's just good work buried inside a movie made up of intriguing ideas that never really go anywhere.

Check your driver's license - if you have one, you're probably too old to get the most out of it. If not, you may find your satisfaction a little harder - though not impossible - to come by.

It’s well-staged, well-acted, all the right people die in the end. It comes down to, well, Romeo and Juliet, really, and Douglas Booth and Hailee Steinfeld prove capable in the title roles.

Jenkins is a fantastically adaptable talent. It helps that his character here is supposed to be innately likable (by everyone, evidently, but his girlfriend's family), since Jenkins is so likable as an actor. Good thing, because there is little else to like about Darling Companion.

Without Lohan, Falling for Christmas would be another of the near-anonymous morass of holiday movies so prevalent during the season. Even with her it’s not much more.

It never really comes together in a satisfying way, and given the talent involved, that adds up to a big disappointment.

At times it’s a learn-your-lesson story. At times it’s a shoot-’em-up that does not skimp on the gore. Whatever trope it dips into, it does so without much originality.

Miele also made the similar "Scatter My Ashes at Bergdorf's," a look at another ultra-expensive store in New York. That film, however, did a better job as a social investigation into how the other half lives. Crazy about Tiffany's is more shallow, as befits so many of the interview subjects.

Table 19 is an odd little movie, and a frustrating one.

It would benefit greatly from having real actors in the major roles. That the bad guys -- who are actors -- are more charismatic is certainly not due to the fact that we are on their side. It's because they know how to make us want to watch.

A lackluster second effort that mines a lot of the same jokes. Only no joke is as funny the second time around, even when it's being delivered by really funny people.

It’s probably best to think of Suicide Squad as a primer, an entry into a side world of the DC Universe that may pay bigger benefits in later films. It certainly seems like that’s how the filmmakers thought of it.

The most interesting parts of Father Stu, an OK film in which Mark Wahlberg plays a rough-hewn man who finds redemption in an unexpected place, are not the ones you — and possibly the filmmakers — would expect.

Although it’s not impossible to mix humor and violence, as “Midnight Run” proves, it isn’t easy — as 3 Days to Kill proves. Points for effort all the way around, and welcome back, Costner. Let’s hope things get better from here.

If it wasn’t for her, it would be near-unwatchable.

Crowe can be a great storyteller, a terrific director whose characters make us believe in them and in what they're doing. That doesn't happen in Aloha, which famously means hello and goodbye. Stick with the latter definition here.

The Wachowskis never lack for ambition. It's in the execution where they run into trouble.

Statham is always good as the silent butt-kicking type and is fine here. Franco, as is often the case, seems to be acting in his own private movie and having a grand old time doing so; results for the audience may vary. Bosworth is good, scary skinny and wired for trouble as a menacing mom.

Too bad. You sense that someone could have made a good movie with this material. Unfortunately, Leth didn't.

Along the way there is some really gory violence and some really cliched cop-drama dialogue, with acting to match. But as long as Rock is on the screen, which is almost constantly, it at least keeps your interest.

A mix of solid action and an underused cast, with star Hugh Jackman left shouldering the burden of bad lines and forced emotion, it leaves you longing for more editing and a tighter story.

If nothing else, it's consistent — consistently stupid, with things like character development and story advancement never getting in the way of another parkour stunt.

While Leatherface, a prequel directed by Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury (“Inside”), works OK as a gory horror film (necrophilia, beheading, partial defenestration and beating eaten alive by pigs are a few of the delights), it makes less sense as part of the surprisingly (and needlessly) expansive “Texas Chainsaw” universe, as it were.

It's hard not to be disappointed with The Change-Up, which in the end follows the basic conventions of the switched-identity genre, if more profanely, changing up not much at all.

What makes mythology so great is its sense of danger, the threat of real loss. This version of “Percy” has none of that.

About My Father isn’t horrible. It’s not great. It just sort of exists as a passion project for Maniscalco, an OK gig for most of the rest of the cast and another curious line on De Niro’s resume.

Charm, alas, is the one thing lost in all the banging and clanging of the remake.

The Green Hornet, which strives to be a different take on the superhero genre, is an interesting film - until it devolves into abject stupidity.

If you like watching people drive really nice cars really fast, Need for Speed scratches that particular itch. But expect nothing more, because everything else about it is just running on empty.

The ending is sick enough to make it almost worth the wait. Key word: almost.

The Exorcist: Believer is the first film in a planned trilogy. Better luck next time.

Angels Sing is a shameless holiday movie, one that will stop at nothing — even killing off characters — to try to wring one last bit of emotion out of the audience.

The Gunman is a predictable slog through action-movie tropes, and Penn's intensity isn't a good fit.

Oh, all right, some of The Other Woman is funny. The parts with Leslie Mann, mostly, who makes this hit-and-miss, problematic comedy directed by Nick Cassavetes far more entertaining than it has a right to be.

Yes, it's that sappy, in between the F-bomb barrage. But Hill brings an infectious confidence to his performance, even when he's supposedly down and out.

This movie is exhausting.

Yes, it’s a musical — strictly authenticity isn’t a requirement. Emotional authenticity, on the other hand, is. And that’s what Dear Evan Hansen could use more of.

More curiosity than movie, “Michael,” a biopic so reverential towards its subject, Michael Jackson, that it borders on worshipful, can’t seem to figure out what it is.

Planes was originally scheduled to be released straight to video. Although the smallest children might like bits and pieces of it, there’s nothing in the movie that suggests why Disney strayed from its original plan.

Michael Manasseri’s film wants to be one of those sweet-with-sharp-notes comedies, and in some respects it is. But it is overwhelmed with clichés, stereotypes and overly broad portrayals.

What’s really missing is the sense of magic. Some films feel like classics from the start. Others don’t. The new “Pinocchio” falls into the latter category. Watching it makes you believe sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.

The big-screen version of Entourage is constructed like the series, another chapter in a sequel-ready story. If you wanted something more, you won't get it. But you will get this, and if it does well, likely more of it.

Bang, boom, bam. That’s about the size of things in No Escape, a movie banking on its admittedly first-rate action drowning out its political tone-deafness.

Hafstrom creates a nice, creepy vibe, especially for the first part of the movie, which has a menacing atmosphere. Too bad he doesn't sustain it.

Good in spots, overall Cage is fine. Nothing more, nothing less. Kind of like Seeking Justice.

There are some laughs, sure, but not enough. It was funny the first time. This is the second time, and returns diminish accordingly.

The folks behind Free Birds are trying to entertain us. But they rarely succeed.

For all the well-traveled roads in Girl Most Likely, Berman and Pulcini bring a sweetness to the material that suits Wiig’s offbeat talents. We know we’re being played, but really, if we’re enjoying it, why complain?

There is very little on the screen to capture your attention.

The film goes all in on its deranged version of the founding of the nation. It wears you down over time, but especially early on it's too satisfied just to be shocking and irreverent.

Everything is overwrought, every circumstance a potential tragedy. Humor is largely absent.

There is a really cool idea at the heart of the film, which brings together the cast of the original “Jurassic Park” movies and the cast of the latest bunch from the “Jurassic World” ones for the first time. Although they’re kind of like guests staying in different parts of the same hotel who just happen to run into each other at dinner.

In effect this is a pretty standard overcoming-adversity story, particularly with the more politically oriented social observations removed. What isn’t standard is the acting.

The film is not without charm, much of it provided by Larson as the sneakily demanding Brie. Liu is also funny and vaguely dangerous, while Henke is an agreeable presence. As for Hall, he's not asked to do much more than mope.

It falls to Wright and Watts to shoulder the heavy lifting here, and they do so with as much grace as the plot will allow. Adore isn’t the feminist medication Fontaine probably means it to be, but it’s not the unintentional laugh riot it could have been in lesser hands, either.

It’s an awkwardly constructed movie that doesn’t really gel.

As with any movie of this sort, there are a few laughs. Johnson is as likable an actor as there is, and it’s to the actors’ credit that they buy in to the stupidity. But there aren’t enough laughs and not nearly enough story.

Aardvark, while it has its moments, never lives up to the potential the cast would suggest.

There aren't any scares to speak of, though there is some gore. The cast is game to try anything, but there's just not much here for them to work with. Like most zombies, Burying the Ex is an idea that should have stayed dead.

The story is a grab bag of only-in-the-movies kid problems and ridiculous adult behavior.

This is a rich, and important story. There’s no argument there. The only problem with “Son of God” is that there are much more compelling ways to tell it.

Star power can cover up a multitude of shortcomings in a film. Turns out stupidity isn't one of them.

An improvement. Not a gigantic leap forward for cinema but, armed with a new director, a new story and the return of a trying-harder Worthington and good ol' Liam Neeson as a put-upon Zeus, a marked upgrade in quality.

The Lone Ranger is a frustrating exercise in overkill, a kind-of, sort-of interesting idea buried in summer-movie excess.

Told in such predictable and bland fashion it dulls the effect. And this in a movie with Robert Duvall, Lucas Black and Melissa Leo.

The scares don't stay with you. They're the horror-movie equivalent of junk food.

There are too many misses among the hits. Once you get past the premise, there’s not a lot farther to go

There is something admirable about Fun Size. Not in how it succeeds, because it doesn't. Whoo, boy, it doesn't. Rather, in how bad it is on so many levels, in how it will offend and disappoint different segments of its audience for different reasons. It's an equal-opportunity bad movie. Something to hate for everyone! [25 Oct 2012]

Peter Lepeniotis’ animated film brings together a good cast, including Will Arnett, Brendan Fraser and Liam Neeson, which sounds like a sweet deal. But it places them in an uninspired little movie about selfish behavior, which, while overcome (of course), never really manages to escape its bitter roots.

Unfortunately, screenwriter Christopher Bertolini has given Eckhart and Liebesman a story so riddled with war-movie cliches that it contains almost nothing else.

What we’re left with are a few PG-13 murders, uninspired performances, some not-so-scary urban legends and a couple of actresses who must be wondering how they got here.

The production is nice looking, and telling the Edward-and-Wallis story from her side is an interesting idea, but it's one that Madonna simply can't pull off here.

The intentions were probably noble, but the execution not so much.

Neeson's performance is so eerie, in a buttoned-down sort of way.

Focus. Tooth Fairy isn't as bad as you may have feared. It's not all that good, either, but at least it's possible to sit through it and hold down your popcorn.

Brand ultimately can't make a watered-down Arthur as sweetly charming as the original, but he certainly makes it better than it would have been otherwise.

Paul Schrader, the once-brilliant screenwriter of such films as “Taxi Driver” and “Raging Bull,” has fashioned a movie that seems to exist to be repugnant. Maybe that’s the point; it was written by Bret Easton Ellis. Nearly every character in this movie is unlikable.

Aside from cast changes and some plot tweaks, there’s not much new to see here. James is an engaging presence, but as this season with the Lakers proved, he alone just isn’t enough.

Thanks to Highmore's performance, George is worth sticking around for - and thanks almost exclusively to Highmore and Roberts, so is The Art of Getting By.

If you’re going to make an origin story, make an origin story. On second thought, if you’re Joe Wright looking to tell us where Peter Pan and Captain Hook came from, maybe don’t.

This is the first time in ages some of the old stand-up Crystal shows through, flashes of quick wit instead of Borscht-belt antics. Not to the extent that it used to in such movies as "When Harry Met Sally ..." (which was, ahem, 23 years ago). But better than you'd expect...Just like the movie.

There's just not a lot to like here, with the exception of what may be one of the all-time best bad movie lines, one Conan utters to Tamara as a kind of personal credo: "I live. I love. I slay. I am content."

A lot of talent comes up empty in Red Lights, a thriller that doesn't thrill.

Forever My Girl is a bad movie, pure and simple. And pure and simple is just how writer and director Bethany Ashton Wolf likes it.

It should be funnier. It should be better. Instead, it just sort of is.

Carrey and Daniels are good actors, and it's understandable when an artist wants to revisit a career-high point. How much you enjoy Dumb and Dumber To will depend greatly upon whether you think "Dumb and Dumber" was one.

It’s a lame, scare-free film that wants really badly to work in the vein of “It Follows,” but has none of the intelligence.

It’s all too much without ever turning into much at all.

This is a wretched movie, trading on characters we revere, yet doing nothing to honor them. Director Peter Segal tries everything he can to recapture the magic of the earlier movies, but to no avail. It’s all rather sad.

A popular topic for debate is whether television or movies are better right now. Movie defenders are not going to want to use Dorfman in Love to bolster their argument.

When Argylle is fun, it is really fun. Watching Rockwell and Howard run around the world is entertaining, for a time, but not forever. “Because these things will change,” as Swift sings in “Change.”... Maybe she should have written the movie.

The movie, based on the novel by Stephenie Meyer of “Twilight” fame and directed by Andrew Niccol, is just kind of dumb. Like the more famous books and movies, about a love triangle between a vampire, a werewolf and a human girl, it often plays like a teenage girl’s idea of how literary romances play out.

Timothy Hutton is a good actor. So whom to blame for Multiple Sarcasms?

The charm of these movies — such as it is — comes from the notion of aging action stars slugging it out between wheezes. So when Stallone brings in a new cast of mostly generic warriors, the premise, like the movie, deflates.

Call it what you want, but the best word to describe it is: unnecessary.

The story of her life is pretty well-known. But in Diana, it’s not particularly well told.

Of course with this kind of film, not every joke lands. You’re hoping for a good proportion — more hits than misses. The ratio isn’t quite as high as you’d like with The Binge, but it’s close enough.

This is a first-rate cast in a second-rate story with some entertaining bits and some maddening holes. That combination works for late-night channel surfing. Anywhere else, not so much.

It's not as if every funny movie has to offer something in the way of social commentary or greater insight. Sometimes funny is just funny. Sometimes, as is too often the case here, it's not.

The Forest is one of those horror movies that starts with an intriguing idea but has no idea what to do with it.

Bitter Harvest, bless its low-budget heart, means well. But George Mendeluk’s film, about the Holodomor, the forced famine and starvation that killed between 7 and 10 million Ukrainians, falls well short of its ambitions.

The Dark Tower is a near-total whiff, a mess of a movie that took forever to get made and by the look of things should have taken about twice that long. Or maybe just never have been made at all.

It's all wildly uneven, but some bits really are funny. Ferrell plays his usual clueless character, but he's good at it. And it turns out a toned-down Hart is a funnier Hart. But Cohen can't keep a handle on it all. Worse, he has no feel for when the satire goes too far.

Beyond the Reach is a misfire, one of those movies that never quite rises to the level of guilty pleasure.