Bill Goodykoontz

Lavie, who directs and wrote the film, actually has more in mind than a comedy of errors. But the dramatic bits don't quite gel, and the film never quite takes off the way she apparently would like it to. Yet it's the kind of movie that offers small rewards along the way.

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 Babadook is a terrific horror film.

the performances, even from some really good actors, are wooden, the huge CGI effects are a distraction and the best thing about the movie is the one thing that, other than the casting, will probably make the most people angry: God is a kid.

When it's good, The Imitation Game is very good. Cumberbatch is terrific, which is not surprising, given the marriage of role and actor.

Top Five is a funny movie, but Rock has his sights set higher than lowbrow, and for the most part, he succeeds.

Miller maintains control over the proceedings at all times, which is impressive enough. But where he really soars is in the performances he gets from his three lead actors.

Witherspoon is an outstanding actress whose material doesn't always fit her talents. "Wild" meanders a bit, in its trips from present to past and back, but Witherspoon remains the constant, doing what sounds simple enough but proves so difficult: soldiering on.

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.

Uplifting, it's not. But Low Down is a worthwhile look at a deeply flawed man, his daughter, and the unusual bond that existed between them.

It's a modestly interesting coming-of-age movie, and a totally forgettable mystery.

Jones is patient — the film could have ended in two or three places before it does with no great loss — but the effort required by the audience pays off. We see the familiar in a new, if harsh light. We can hardly ask for more.

Director Francis Lawrence does a nice job capturing the claustrophobic environment of District 13 and has a good eye for action shots. But the actors are what really sell the movie.

The film soldiers on through a couple of possible endings, and if its real destination is never truly in doubt, Mbatha-Raw makes the trip interesting.

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.

Stewart proves to be an able filmmaker in Rosewater. But he also shows hints of being something more.

The Theory of Everything breaks down simply, perhaps too much so: a great performance in a good movie.

Floridly explicit, gleefully disgusting and yet somehow kind of sweet, the film is a showcase for Carla Juri.

A heartfelt, moving and bracingly honest document of a famous man as he fades away.

It's fun to watch the actors work. But you wish they had material a little stronger to work with. Laggies doesn't give it to them.

Take my word for it, or better yet go find out for yourself: Big Hero 6 is a treat.

In Interstellar, Nolan has created a universe where ultimately the possibilities are endless. At its best, the film feels the same way.

Ostlund's film is beautiful, capturing both the stunning scenery and the danger of the slopes and the mountains. Sure, everything looks great, but it could all fall apart in disastrous fashion at any moment.

The story Snowden tells is, of course, absorbing, disturbing and, yes, scary. Poitras' film, playing out as more and more is revealed, reported and published, comes off like a real-life spy thriller.

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.

A thick film of sleaze coats every frame of Nightcrawler, a movie that takes a hard look at media culture and provides Jake Gyllenhaal a terrific opportunity to creep us all out.

There's something refreshing about a movie that knows what it is, and what it wants to be. John Wick is that kind of movie.

The acting is outstanding. And there's a lot of humor. True, we're often laughing at Philip (when we're not cringing), instead of with him. But Perry also goes for more traditional laughs.

It's the best kind of fairy tale — tough, deep and meaningful, with a heroine who stays true to herself in spite of shallow temptations.

The last act takes a couple of turns that rely too heavily on coincidence, but overall Whiplash (the title comes from the name of one of the songs the band plays) hits very few sour notes.

Simien's film is one of those rare works that teach by appearing not to — you laugh at some of the antics, cringe at others, but the film is so entertaining you may forget you're learning something.

Birdman is a treat. But it's also more than that. It's a full-fledged wonder.

Melfi, who also wrote the script, goes for broke on the sappy front. It's a credit to Murray's skill — or maybe the strength of his personality — that he never submits completely to all the heart-string tugging.

The film, directed and co-written by Jorge R. Gutierrez, is a visually stunning, funny movie that trusts children to deal with subject matter that many films don't: specifically, death.

Rudderless is a quietly ambitious film, and if it eventually collapses under the dramatic weight it's asked to shoulder — and it does — at least it's trying.

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll be swept away — about as much as you would be by artificial roses. Movies like this may look like the real thing, but they're not.

Ultimately Fury is a good, conventional war movie that might have become something more.

[Renner's] outstanding as a man passionate about his work. His character is not perfect — just ask his wife and children — but he is certainly a good man trying to do good things.

It's feel-good, no question about it. But it's also absorbing, important and inspiring.

The film does not have the courage of the book, which felt no need to tie a nice pretty bow on everything. But it's fun enough for a good while (it's only 81 minutes long), and that's enough.

Sure, these roles aren't exactly a stretch, with Duvall being crotchety and Downey being sharp-witted. But that familiarity is part of the appeal. They're good at this. Really good. After all, as has been noted, they're not movie stars for nothing.

Murray doesn't ignore the abuse of power. He just eases into it.

Left Behind is a terrible movie, bad in almost every way, not even qualifying as so-bad-it's-good material.

This is very much a mainstream movie meant to shine a light on the plight of people who were ignored for too long. For that reason alone, it's well worth seeing.

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

David Fincher's meticulous direction pays off in spades. From the way he expresses the book's construction — not quite he-said/she-said, but a version of that — to the way the film looks (cold and uncaring, like its characters) to his work with actors (go Tyler Perry!), Gone Girl delivers.

Ultimately it's Wasikowska's performance that captivates. It's oddly compelling — she doesn't say much, and what she does say is usually off-putting. But there is a fierceness in her eyes as she walks, a determination that almost dares you to look away.

This is a film that deals with suicide, missed chances, depression, infidelity and more. Yet the movie itself isn't depressing, thanks to Hader, Wiig and director and co-writer Craig Johnson.

Hector and the Search for Happiness is more like "audiences and the search for a good movie," and despite the effort of Pegg and the other actors, you won't find that here.

Sure, the hits would have been nice. But it says something about Jimi: All Is by My Side (and Benjamin's performance) that it is still a success without them.

Enchantment is an essential ingredient of an animated film, particularly one that skirts dark edges. The Boxtrolls doesn't have nearly enough of it.

Truly, you don't have to watch former secret agents relentlessly wipe out villains. But if you want to, you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone better than Washington for the task.

Wingard and screenwriter Simon Barrett last worked together on You're Next, a ferocious film that is also intelligent. They're even more successful here.

It's ultimately Parks who carries Tusk, and carries it farther than it should have gone.

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

The reason to see it is the humanity the outstanding cast brings to the film. The emotions these people feel, the moments of grief, of anger, of love and of clarity they experience, feel both real and recognizable.

The look of the film is impressive enough, but the performances are merely OK. The same goes for the story.

Scott Frank's atmospheric thriller is a step up from Neeson's usual shoot-'em-ups. Not a giant leap, but a step up nonetheless.

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.

We get it, we get it: Capitalism is good, government is bad. But Atlas Shrugged: Who Is John Galt? is worse.

It's almost as difficult to sit through Starred Up as it is satisfying to watch it.

The Drop could have been an ordinary crime drama, but it's elevated by extraordinary performances.

Innocence is a misguided little horror film, reminiscent of one of those cheesy '70s made-for-TV movies that kind of, sort of seem scary when you're 9 but are just dopey at any other age.

The intentions are solid here, but the execution is not... But the actors are compelling, and the issue is, of course, always worth discussion. It's not a great movie, but, if nothing else, Frontera is worthwhile on those fronts.

It takes effort to turn a movie with a cast as appealing as the one in The Longest Week into a grating exercise in narcissism, but writer and director Peter Glanz proves up to the task.

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

Not a lot happens, other than eating between small bits of drama and large doses of humor. If you saw the first film, you know how good that can be.

In addition to the performances — truly, everyone is good — what stands out is Sachs' direction. It's measured, patient. The scenes play out as one imagines the characters' lives would.

Frank is a true original, a film that heads in one direction only to veer off in another, yet never loses sight of where it's going.

The One I Love is an odd, unsettling and ultimately satisfying movie.

The Possession of Michael King is more scary than original.

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

Despite the best efforts of Plaza and the rest of the cast, Life After Beth never winds up being as scary or as funny as it ought to be.

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.

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

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

It's just a good yarn, well told. So don't be deterred by the title (it sounds like a lame horror movie) or the description.

There are some laughs here, but not many. Johnson and Wayans have a pleasant enough chemistry, but the best parts of the movie are when Johnson gives Ryan an unhinged quality.

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 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.

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.

The movie belongs to Gleeson, commanding in every scene, even when he's sitting silently, listening to another sinner go on about what's wrong with everyone else.

It's just kind of a mess, as unfocused and immature as the four mutant turtles at its core. Stuff happens, stuff blows up and this is probably a good time to mention that Michael Bay produced the film.

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.

It's not always pretty, and it's not always exciting, but you genuinely don't know from one moment to the next how these characters will behave.

This is an incredibly creative film, but, unlike other Gondry films such as "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and the documentary "Is the Man Who Is Tall Happy?" it doesn't add up to much.

It's easy to get carried away with movies like this, which lend themselves to fanboy hype. It's not a perfect movie. But it is one that is hugely enjoyable, bears repeated viewings and will be as funny in 10 years (or 50) as it is now. And that's pretty swell.

Get On Up... has some problems in the storytelling department, but Boseman tackles with gusto the unenviable task of capturing Brown.

There are a few scares in Come Back to Me. They would be a lot scarier if we either hadn't seen them coming, or hadn't seen them before.

The struggle between faith and reason somehow gets sidetracked, resulting in a sometimes silly, too-obvious journey.

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

Hoffman was a genius, a tremendously gifted actor who could shine in almost any role... A Most Wanted Man may not be the best example of this, but it certainly adds to the evidence.

Lucy is insane, makes very little sense, doesn't stand up to scrutiny and is an absolute blast.

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.

Boyhood is not just a great movie, it's a landmark achievement in film.

Half of a Yellow Sun winds up being one of those movies in which a pesky event of great historical import keeps getting in the way of a soap-opera romance.

"Whitey" paints an ugly picture, but a compelling one nonetheless, and one that will put every Boston crime movie you see in a different light.

It's wider than it is deep, but Andrew Rossi's documentary is a good primer on an issue that, in varying degrees, affects almost everyone.

Eschewing a tidy wrap-up, Reeves doesn't leave us feeling manipulated, as so often happens in films like this. Instead, we want to know where the story goes from here, and that's no small accomplishment.

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

Life Itself is a joy for people who love movies or who love anything with an unwavering passion.

Dinesh D'Souza's America: Imagine a World Without Her paints a genuinely troublesome portrait of the country — just not at all in the way he intends.

It's easy to get sucked into Begin Again, to enjoy the friendly performances and the goes-down-easy songs, and to not even notice until it's over that the film is more a feel-good fairy tale than anything else. We might not have seen much that was truly meaningful in the end, but it was warm and fuzzy while it lasted.

There are surprises and plenty of action. What's good about Snowpiercer is how they all blend together; each element informs the other.

If it is not as urgent as the first film, this is still an excellent companion piece. Together, the movies paint a complete picture of the physicality and mentality of war, and it is riveting.

Night Moves is an unexpected pleasure, offering more than what we expect and taking its time to deliver.

It's big, it's loud and it's all over the place, never really making a lick of sense. To his credit, sort of, director Michael Bay tries to insert a little story into the film early on, even a little humor, but that's overrun at some point by explosions and plot digressions.

What makes the film more than just a starstruck string of great stories is that it also gets at the loss and longing in Gordon's life.

Citizen Koch is undisciplined and depressing, yet still strangely worthwhile.

The girls bring a passion to the band that they can muster nowhere else in their lives. Not everyone gets what they're doing — well, no one, really — but that's the point. This is a knowing film, and a liberating one.

Thanks to its cast, The Grand Seduction turns out to be, if not exactly groundbreaking, at least agreeable, comfortable fun.

His first film, "Animal Kingdom," was a terrific examination of a low-grade crime family in Melbourne. The Rover is more ambitious but not as good. Michod's patience with scenes, while laudable, is at times too much.

Jersey Boys is a good movie, and the performances are first-rate. But Eastwood should have roughed things up a little more.

Vacth is good throughout. It's tough to make a disaffected character hold your interest, but she does.

Lucky Them isn't a great film, all told, but thanks to the good-natured performances and the general vibe, it's an immensely enjoyable one.

Acting (and story) take a back seat to the visual display. Eubank shows confidence with each shot, whether it takes place in a desert vista or a clinical government slab. What's it all mean? It's unclear, except meaning that Eubank is a talent to watch.

22 Jump Street is, ultimately, a celebration of the silly and the sweet, a combination that's welcome again and again.

The look of the film is amazing. The animation, particularly when the dragons take flight, is seamless.

Taking the bad-cop genre to the extreme, Filth lives up to its title and then some, but a no-holds performance by James McAvoy is reason enough to watch.

Owen and Binoche both are quite good, rising above the material for the most part. But even they can't save the film from itself, or from an ending that's downright bizarre.

Edge of Tomorrow repeats itself without being repetitive, takes itself seriously while providing some laughs and offers plenty of action without short-changing us on the intelligence front.

The Fault in Our Stars is manipulative as can be, pulling out all the stops — kids with cancer — in its attempt to bring the tears. And you know what? It works.

Steadman is great fodder for a documentary, as he has continued to produce his signature works. But if you're going to make a movie about Ralph Steadman, make it about Ralph Steadman.

For a Woman, Diane Kurys' semi-autobiographical film, benefits greatly from its intimate nature, in which a woman discovers secrets from her family's past.

The story has something of a flow, but the film feels more like someone dropping in on the characters' lives. It's more about observation than connecting dots. This isn't a detriment, particularly with strong performances to carry things along.

It is a brutal, beautifully shot movie that starts out to be about revenge but then becomes something more, something even more primal and disturbing.

Jolie's performance so overshadows the rest of the cast (and the rest of the movie) that you sometimes feel as if the other characters are, like us, just standing around watching her. This is not, however, the fault of the other actors. It's the fault of screenwriter Linda Woolverton, who doesn't give them much to do that's challenging or interesting.

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

Spare, haunting and in its own way beautiful, Ida is an absorbing film about discovering the truth, and the attendant price we pay to learn it.

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 Hornet's Nest serves as a somewhat effective bonding exercise for father and son. But the best of what it has to offer moves beyond that, and puts us alongside the people fighting a daily battle and, sometimes, heartbreakingly, losing the fight.

The Immigrant is not exactly the feel-good hit of the summer, but it is a compelling tale of what, in the end, can only be called survival.

Blended is an Adam Sandler movie that isn't as bad as you feared it would be.

This is a smart movie, a treat for fans of the comics and the franchise. And it's a lot of fun.

The directors include interviews with descendants of the original settlers and with later arrivals — too much so, actually, as the lengthy scenes interrupt the flow of the mystery. But they don't derail it. The story is too lurid, too rich, too compelling.

Although it contains some interesting characters, God's Pocket, like the neighborhood it depicts, is the kind of place you can't wait to escape, even if its inhabitants cannot.

It's all very pleasant, very inspiring, just not very surprising.

How many times have we complained that summer blockbusters are all about the action, at the expense of niceties like character development? Well, Edwards has gone in another direction, one that's more intriguing in theory than on the screen.

The premise wears thin after a while and the humor is hit-and-miss, but when it's on its game The Wedding Video can be laugh-out-loud funny.

Bright Days Ahead offers an interesting twist on the May-December romance.

Belle is a beautiful period piece, but it's also something more: a study of racism, classism and sexism in 18th-century England.

Legends of Oz: Dorothy's Return lacks any sense of magic.

Neighbors is not the classic raunchy comedy it wants to be, but it certainly isn't for lack of trying. And when it's funny, it's really funny. Just not as often as one might hope.

This is a film that finds horror not in the extreme, but in the mundane. That alone makes it a worthwhile entry in a genre that it both inhabits and rises above.

It is exceptional acting, and Locke is a tremendous piece of filmmaking.

The acting is naturalistic, with a lived-in feel. These are familiar people, it seems like, made so by performances that never drift into lazy melodrama.

Morton is outstanding. The rest of the cast, which includes Rashida Jones and Bradley Whitford, is also good. Bernstein does a nice job moderating the tone of the film, which could have been depressing, but isn't.

There are too many explosions, too many blaring sonic effects, too many break-ups-and-make-ups, too many villains. And not enough heart.

It is indeed a beautiful film, but with each horizon tinged with sadness.

What's exciting about the film is the confidence Hittman brings to it, particularly with her visual choices. The dancing in particular is striking, with surprising cuts and edits. It Felt Like Love isn't a great movie, but it is a promising one, for everyone involved.

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.

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.

It just sort of chugs along in predictable fashion, bolstered by a couple of good performances here, thrown off-track every now and then by implausible or unearned developments there, but overall a decent effort.

Through dogged research and interviews with the (now-grown) children Maier cared for, along with their parents (including Phil Donahue), a profile emerges, and it's fascinating.

Cage is getting down and dirty again in Joe, and it's pretty remarkable — the performance more so than the film, and the film's good.

Yes, Glazer asks a lot of his audience. At times the movie feels like something you've walked in to the middle of, so you're thrown off balance. Yet it's hypnotic — you want to stick around to see what happens, and maybe just to figure out what the hell is going on.

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

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.

[Jodorowsky's] a hoot, and so is Jodorowsky's Dune. But it's something more, too, a look at twisted genius and missed opportunities, a sad but intriguing combination.

Chen captures with both humor and heartbreaking realism the complicated mechanics of the family dynamic and how outside forces work to shape it.

Costner works hard, and it shows. That's even more true of Leary. Garner's stuck in a thankless role. Only Langella seems to be having unencumbered fun.

There's just nothing magical about the story, nothing that lifts it above its status as an agreeable song-and-dance movie, a laugh here, a laugh there, pleasant but overly busy, for seemingly no real reason other than to throw a few more set pieces at the wall to see what sticks.

Ernest & Celestine draws on plenty of classics, animated and otherwise, for inspiration, but the film manages to be delightful on its own offbeat terms.

A Romanian political allegory — in Romanian — might sound like tough sledding, but thanks to a searing performance by Luminita Gheorghiu, Child's Pose is anything but.

This is a good movie, but it lacks the visual wonder of the first, along with the sense of play at which von Trier, even at his most controversial, is so good.

Count Captain America: The Winter Soldier as another success in the Marvel line. Thanks to the chemistry between Evans and Johansson and a willingness to shake things up, it's more than just a placeholder between "Avenger" films.

Director Roger Michell ("Notting Hill") has the good sense to step back and let Broadbent and Duncan work their magic on Hanif Kureishi's script. They don't disappoint.

In Bethlehem Adler tries to make some sense of that world, and to the extent that it's possible, succeeds.

It's not an easy ride, but it is ultimately a satisfying one.

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.

Taken strictly as a piece of filmmaking, Aranofsky's Noah is ambitious. And as theology, well, it may not hew exactly to the letter of the law, but the spirit survives intact.

It never quite takes off in a stirring, inspirational way, but moves steadily forward in solid fashion.

It's a maudlin, superficial exercise in obsession masquerading as a heartfelt romance and study of grief, and character development is sorely lacking. Although well-acted, particularly by Annette Bening, the story feels contrived.

Not just dark but dank, Denis Villeneuve's Enemy is a surpassingly creepy film about identity.

for those willing to go along with von Trier's typically in-your-face tactics, it's a good, if uncomfortable (and surprisingly funny), film. And the discomfort is part of what von Trier is after.

Where this falls on your personal line between funny and abusive may vary. Either way, what makes the comedy work is that Bateman doesn't relent. Guy is, simply, a loathsome person.

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.

Although this movie has lots of laughs and a willingness to poke fun at itself, it doesn't quite recapture the magic of the last movie. Close, but not quite.

Although Pasikowski is heavy-handed in his filmmaking, sometimes in the extreme, Aftermath does show the danger inherent in this kind of groupthink.

It's a terrific movie.

The mystery isn't the reason to watch the film. Bell is. She's the perfect vehicle for Thomas' sharp, sassy writing, able to deliver a pop-culture-infused put-down with ease. And yet she is also vulnerable, something her relationship with her father drives home.

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.

Grovic knows all the tricks of the trade, such as keeping the lighting dark (often too dark), in an attempt to add atmosphere. But in the end it seems like a series of shortcuts.

Rob Minkoff’s film has the generic feel of a kids’ movie that’s trying to please everyone. It’s not horrible. In fact, it’s agreeable enough. But nothing more.

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.

It’s fascinating and funny while forcing us to consider the line between technology and art.

Adult World is a happy surprise.

he beauty of The Wind Rises — and it really is gorgeous — does not mask the troublesome aspects of its story, or of human nature itself.

Abu-Assad does a masterful job of showing, in these seemingly hopeless circumstances, the fragility of life.

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.

There’s no rescuing Non-Stop from its own worse impulses. The likable Neeson’s implausible second act as an action star continues, but not in a believable direction.

In Bloom, whose title proves more and more ironic as the film goes on, is a fascinating snapshot of a country at war with itself (literally, eventually) as seen through the eyes of two teenage girls, whose lives are complicated enough as it is.

This is a difficult film, one that asks questions that can’t really be answered. There are a couple of surprises along the way, but more than anything Koreeda is getting at what really makes a family a family.

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

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.

Writer and director Jeremy Leven’s film is meant to be a trifle, a status which it achieves, but it’s nothing more than that.

Earnest in its ambition but dopey in its execution, Winter’s Tale never takes flight.

Thanks to a good cast and a willingness to stray fairly far afield from the source material, it’s better than you might think.

There are many remarkable things about Gloria, Sebastián Lelio’s film about a woman in her late 50s seeking love or something like it. Foremost is the performance by Paulina García in the title role.

The Lego Movie is a delight, a funny, fast-moving film that should satisfy adults and children alike.

It comes down to a matter of tone, and Clooney can’t really settle on one. The Monuments Men is in no way a bad movie. Just, with this bunch, a disappointing one.

At Middleton is an almost completely inauthentic little romance that is so genuinely pleasant you’ll enjoy it anyway.

What raises it a notch above the typical slick Hollywood romances are its stars, Ludivine Sagnier and Nicolas Bedos.

Even with the talent involved, almost everything about Labor Day plays less like something you’d buy a ticket to watch and more like something you’d buy in an airport bookstore to read.

By far the scariest thing about director Stuart Beattie’s I, Frankenstein, a terrible would-be horror story that somehow roped in a couple of really good actors, is that the ending seems to suggest the possibility of a sequel. Now that’s horror.

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.

Occasionally the film seems as if it will make a political statement (the value, or lack thereof, of torture, for instance). But it doesn’t really follow through. But they keep us occupied with twists, well-played, and some of the laughs are genuine, if uncomfortable and guilt-inducing.

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit is a well-made movie, well-acted (Costner and Branagh seem to be having an especially good time) and a pleasant diversion. They’ll probably make several more. But it doesn’t exactly put the “thrill” in action thriller.

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.

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.)

August: Osage County is at times affecting (Cooper’s tender moment with Cumberbatch, who has slept through an important event, is especially so), but mostly it’s all about actors acting and never letting us forget they’re doing so.

Her is an outstanding movie, in part because of its originality, but also because of its execution.

The performances are outstanding.

Berg immerses us so completely into the horror of these men’s situation that we are gripped throughout. The fighting is incredibly intense.

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.

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.

Martin Scorsese’s The Wolf of Wall Street is absurd, ridiculous, over the top, overindulgent, overlong, overstuffed, over-everythinged. And that is precisely the point.

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty just doesn’t work.

This is one of the strangest yet most satisfying movie experiences of the year, one of those films in which you can’t really appreciate what you’ve seen until it’s over. You just have to trust that the trip is worth the trouble. And it is.

Disney scholars may scoff that it’s not a warts-and-all portrayal of the struggle to bring “Mary Poppins” to the screen, but that seems almost churlish in light of the enthusiasm Hanks brings to the film, or the eventually melting icy facade Thompson puts up.

Boasting terrific acting, a brilliant soundtrack, outrageous outfits and hair, and a kinda-sorta based-on-fact story of ambition and greed, it’s relentless, in the best possible way.

Is it a good movie? It’s OK. But is it funny? It is, and ultimately that’s all it sets out to be.

It’s too straightforward, at least in terms of what we’ve come to expect from Sayles.

It’s a mix of good films that could have been a single outstanding one.

Tucci and Eve command the screen throughout, shifting tone and intensity as they go. It’s fascinating. So is the film, well worth watching and arguing over. Which, in LaBute’s hands, is doubtless the point.

Gondry’s illustrations are as fascinating as the chats. Sometimes they look like markers on a napkin. Other times they are reminiscent of something made on the old Lite-Brite toy. They’re always delightful.

Interesting as it is, Narco Cultura aims to tell the story of what’s happened in Juarez and in Mexico (and, by virtue of its immense appetite for drugs, the U.S.). Instead, it feels more like a couple of intriguing chapters.

Bouncing back and forth in time and emotional space, The Broken Circle Breakdown contains moments of beauty, power and tragedy, but the constant churning sometimes leaves the film without a solid foundation. Ah, but then there’s the music, soaring bluegrass performed with passion and talent.

Schnack presents all this without commentary, stitching together appearances and speeches and strategy sessions. As is often the case, he doesn’t need to make the point about the quality of politics at work in Caucus. The candidates do it for him.

Out of the Furnace goes so far out of its way to be gritty and meaningful that it sometimes neglects its strongest feature: its actors.

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.

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.

Philomena could have been a sappy movie, but it’s not. Instead, with such assured performances, it’s proof that sometimes a laugh makes swallowing a big dose of outrage a little easier.

Frozen is a delightful animated musical, a return to form for Disney animation with an intriguing story and terrific songs.

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.

Nebraska is as cold and unforgiving as its setting, yet just as stunning.

To call Armstrong’s story a tragedy is probably an overblown notion. But it does involve sadness, not just with its depiction of a fallen idol, but with the necessary acknowledgment that some of our own hopes and dreams fell alongside him.

It’s not a bad movie, by any means. Just repetitive in its relentless praise.

Catching Fire is a great leap forward for the franchise. Seeing as it’s all about hope and what it represents, here’s hoping the next two are just as good, if not better.

Geography Club almost makes up in good intentions what it lacks in technique and execution. Almost.

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.

Jean-Marc Vallee’s film is anything but standard, thanks to an astonishing performance by Matthew McConaughey.

You wouldn’t want Kill Your Darlings to be the only information you ever get about the Beats. But it’s a decent introduction for the uninitiated, and interesting enough to those who know the story.

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

There’s nothing in Thor: The Dark World that wasn’t done better in “Thor,” or a lot better in “The Avengers.” Except Tom Hiddleston’s performance as Loki.

It’s not as good, nor as involving, as “Love Actually.” But like that film, it has Bill Nighy, and that’s good for something.

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

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

The acting is outstanding, the direction assured if straightforward. 12 Years a Slave is a history lesson of the best type. It’s brilliant. But, more crucially, it’s important. It’s brutal truth that demands to be seen.

Checking in at nearly three hours and so full of passions and appetites, it’s impossible for it not to exhaust you.

Grunberg and Boyar have a charming, if broad, chemistry. It’s all kind of cheesy, of course, but it’s meant to be. And the effects, when not deliberately silly, aren’t bad.

The movie is more a collection of cool people telling great stories than it is a structured documentary (despite Camalier’s attempts in that direction). But in this case, that’s enough.

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.

With its lush look, uniformly excellent acting, slow cadences and unhurried unspooling, We Are What We Are rewards your patience without skimping on the goods.

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.

Broadway Idiot is entertaining enough. Certainly if you’re a Green Day fan, it’s something close to essential. But it never goes too deeply into anything.

It’s not fair to either of these actors to want to see Rocky and the Terminator over and over again. But it is fair to want to see them in something better than this.

Instead of delving into the moral questions WikiLeaks asks by its very existence, Condon gives those a passing nod in a couple of weak subplots.

Comparisons are unfair and inevitable. But even when taken on its own terms, the new Carrie rings hollow, a horror movie that is unsure of itself, with little to offer the uninitiated and less to offer fans of the first film.

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.

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 story of how Moore made the movie is ultimately more interesting than the film he’s put together. It’s not for lack of trying. It’s more a lack of a cogent story.

You can’t help feeling as if Miller has missed an opportunity. Punk rock was all about manic energy, unbridled (and often unfocused) passion. CBGB plays more like a folk tale.

The acting is first rate, the story still heartbreakingly urgent. But ultimately Parkland plays more like a re-enactment than a film in its own right.

The love the two have for each other, particularly she for him, is obvious and moving. So, too, is not just the desire to create, but the need to.

Captain Phillips is a voyage well-worth taking.

It is a remarkable achievement.

Moors is neither showy nor exploitative in his telling of the story. He just lays out the details, making “Blue Caprice” not just a story of horror, but of tragedy.

You may or may not be surprised by developments here, but it doesn’t really matter. What does is the honesty of the characters and the absolute delight it is to spend time with them.

Picks up where the first film left off, literally, and offers at least as many laughs (if not more for adults), retaining the goofy attitude. Cameron and Pearn throw a lot at the wall, just like their predecessors, and most of it sticks.