Connie Ogle

If you can overlook that last little bit of sports fantasy, you just might like Just Wright.

It's really just a dance movie, interrupted sporadically for PG-13 romance, bad acting, ridiculous dialogue and earnest "let's put on a show to save our homes!" spirit.

Despite its slight and vaguely silly premise, Driving Lessons turns out to be sweet, never cloying, and amusing in an understated British way.

Fey is a good fit with the material, and her co-stars are all solid, including Billy Bob Thornton as a laconic general; Martin Freeman as a boozy, charming Scottish journalist; Alfred Molina as a local politician with a crush on Kim; and Christopher Abbott (Girls) as Kim’s fixer and translator (he tries to keep her out of trouble).

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan moves slowly, languidly; its art direction is often lovely, and despite their truncated screen time Lily and Snow Flower do make you care about their fates. But you would have cared more without all the distraction.

Easy A is unnecessarily hard on the religious kids. Unlike "Saved," it uses broad caricatures of gospel-singing fanatics to get laughs, and the bug-eyed, over-the-top performance by Bynes (who apparently really should have retired after making this film) doesn't help matters.

By the time it's over, Insidious is less scary than a mortgage payment.

A pleasant if unremarkable romantic comedy that plays out like a sitcom with great scenery.

Gerwig and Hawke are outstanding reasons to see this movie, but your patience — just like Maggie’s — will be tested before it’s over.

Essentially an old-fashioned movie, nothing fancy, nothing new, just some jokes and some action and a crowd-pleasing finale.

The Reader doesn't do enough to explore the guilt and betrayal the adult Michael feels over the acts of his elders.

Has nothing new to say, but it has a lot of fun covering the same old territory.

Too slight to bear up under the weight of the final melodrama, and the film ends too abruptly, as if MacLachlan just ran out of things to write. Still, this visit to the old homestead is worthwhile, if only to meet its unflappable, charismatic women.

It's full of lively and crude sexual banter, discussions of hookups and sex and Joel McHale's bare butt. Oddly, all this makes the film funnier and more accessible than you might imagine.

Unlike "The Ring," Dark Water -- which features one of the mad, whispery ghost children who populate such films -- is never actually frightening.

The film's heart lies in what goes on at Calvin's shop, that haven from the cold, cruel world. Where else can you get philosophy, humor, friendship and a little off the top?

A briskly-paced, refreshing kick in this season of draggy, two-hour-plus movies. The film is smarter and funnier than its trailers indicate, and, as a bonus, there are no superheroes, pirates or Wilson brothers to be found.

A fatal lack of character development dooms Enduring Love as little more than a fleeting curiosity.

On the plus side, if you're flummoxed by the twisty plot or its occasional holes, you can always gaze contentedly at Clive Owen and be wholly entertained.

It's a pleasure to see acceptance portrayed so matter-of-factly. May never happen in our lifetimes, but Lesnick's vision of tolerance is a soothing thought, anyway.

Carries an undeniable follow-your-field-of-dreams appeal.

There's no doubt that Leigh gets inside his characters' lives. But that's often someplace we'd rather not be.

Likable, cheerfully off-color comedy.

Pine, who has been so good and so instrumental in J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek series as Captain Kirk, turns out to be a decent Ryan.

It's not quite layered or weighty enough to fill the aching hole left in our psyches by the end of "The Sopranos," and most of the developments are as obvious as sauce on spaghetti. Still, Brooklyn Rules is a decent, if derivative, movie.

Far more imaginative and intriguingly moody than other recent thrillers.

Instead of a tense, emotional and psychological thriller or a thoughtful exploration of grief and guilt, what we end up with is ... soap. Whether you choose to wash your hands of it is up to you.

She could come off preachy here but instead sounds blunt and honest. And that's more than enough.