Elizabeth Weitzman

We see brief, graphic shots of naked actors performing sexual acts. But it’s the conversations about what those depictions represent that truly provoke.

Early potential fizzles away too quickly in this underachieving buddy comedy, which just barely skids along on the charm of its co-stars.

So do the minutes. They stretch on as one tiresomely quirky sadist after another appears. Cusack is typically likable and De Niro is amusing in his brief scenes. But unlike Jack, you’re too smart to make big sacrifices for so little return.

It’s worth seeing Robert May’s vital judicial expose — not only to learn about the titular scandal, but also to appreciate both the highs and lows of human resilience.

The second film from Enid Zentelis (“Evergreen”) comes across as a heavy-handed message movie. And its presence in theaters can only be explained by the participation of Oscar-winning lead Melissa Leo.

Director Christopher Spencer’s biblical yarn lacks the complex rigor of Martin Scorsese’s “The Last Temptation of Christ” and the fury of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ,” leaving its star, Diogo Morgado, stuck in a film that’s stiff and earnest.

Karasawa captures the flinty, ferocious nature of her subject, Elaine Stritch, with just the right amount of clear-eyed respect.

This ill-advised romance from director Andrew Fleming is the sort of indie lark that nearly drowns in its own whimsy. Wade in at your own risk.

Stephanie Riggs never manages to develop her debut documentary about Broadway performers into a satisfying feature. But the stories alone ought to be appreciated by theater fans and, especially, aspiring actors.

Bill Carey’s uneven first film, centered on an isolated Texas teen named Vallie Sue (AJ Michalka), has some offbeat charms. They are not, however, strong enough to carry such a heavy load of cliches.

What do we do about a movie that is half compelling and half unwatchable? Director Charlie Stratton seems to be onto something at the start of his period drama In Secret. Then it all slips through his fingers.

The whole movie hinges on the allegedly miraculous romance between Beverly and Peter, but Goldsman’s leads are distractingly mismatched and lack even a spark of chemistry.

If you’re looking for a Valentine’s Day date, this version is probably a better choice than the uncomfortably swoony original would have been. You might be bored, but at least you won’t be embarrassed.

Painfully dull thriller.

The real challenge is for viewers, who must tolerate overacting, idiotic scatological jokes and juvenile innuendo. The only way it might be endurable is if you’re wasted, too.

Classical dance great Jacques d’Amboise calls Tanaquil LeClercq’s style a “path to heaven.” And this lovely documentary by Nancy Buirski makes clear that he’s right.

As full-length toy advertisements go, you really couldn’t ask for more.

Coco’s angry frustration, Pug’s bruised confusion, and the police helicopters constantly hovering above the defiant bikers say enough.

At the very least, it does provide an easy excuse to sit in a heated room eating popcorn.

From an artistic perspective, Ron Krauss’ heavy-handed drama, Gimme Shelter, fails almost entirely. But if the director set out to combine the stilted falsity of 1980s after-school specials with leaden political dogma, he’s certainly achieved his goals.

Peake provides the solid center for a movie that would otherwise melt into indie formula. The quirky supporting characters, slow pacing and predictable plotting intermittently threaten to overwhelm such a modest story. But then Ted secretly turns his camera back toward Vanetia and, like him, we’re smitten again.

The subject matter calls for ruthless observation, but his candy-colored pop vision has more in common with “Glee” than, say, “Heathers.” He’s aiming for a stinging WTF, but winds up with a fairly mild LOL.

Director Jillian Schlesinger’s documentary does a terrific job countering everyone’s assumptions. Maidentrip is a clear-eyed chronicle of Dekker’s record-breaking voyage. Think “All Is Lost,” but real, and with a teenage girl instead of Robert Redford (plus a very different ending).

Story and his four screenwriters don’t exactly strain themselves to find a new angle in this mismatched buddy comedy. Picture “Rush Hour,” and then imagine Hart as the annoying kid in “Are We There Yet?” You’ve basically just watched the entire movie in your head.

On the bright side, the charismatic Liberato is one to watch. And de Matteo (“The Sopranos”) brings a crucial jolt of assertive energy. Both seem to be in another, more exciting movie entirely.

The most startling truth is about Emanuel is that she's a rather ordinary teen in a rather ordinary movie.

A few barely conceived scenes allow Carl Reiner, Tom Arnold and Jay Mohr to show up for a quick paycheck. What’s that title again?

Peter Berg’s ultra-bloody battle film “Lone Survivor” is ultimately more grueling than satisfying. It’s more carnage than cinema.

If you embrace the overkill, you’ll enjoy it. But if extravagance isn’t your thing, move swiftly on to something lighter and more digestible.

Directed tastefully by Ralph Fiennes, The Invisible Woman is very lovely to look at. But it lives up to its own title too well.

A director who really wanted to honor these actors’ legendary roles, rather than simply use them as a marketing hook, might have found a way to make this concept palatable. Segal (“Get Smart”) is not that director.

The Past is not as nuanced as its predecessor — and not as impactful, either. But this is still far more complex than most family dramas.

Both leading actors are teenagers who’ve never acted before — and they are both phenomenal.

Will you relate more to the bitter, or embrace the sweet? The choice itself is Jonze’s ultimate gift to us: an invitation to leave his film ready to communicate, debate and, most crucially of all, connect.

Most of the movie elicits tense empathy, which builds to a genuinely nerve-wracking sense of dread.

If you’re only a casual observer of Bergman, you’ll find this documentary as inaccessible as his densest works.

What’s most surprising is that this talky dramedy was a massive smash at home in France, outearning blockbusters like “The Avengers.”

Holwerda’s film never bothers to conceal its fawning view of Dawkins and Krauss — or challenge their dogma. And there’s no need for empty celebrity cameos from fans like Cameron Diaz (“Knowledge is power,” she reveals).

The cast, including Orlando Bloom and Evangeline Lilly as warrior elves, is also excellent (though we don’t get even a glimpse of Andy Serkis’ Gollum). And individually, each escapade does hold its own thrills.

An evocative vision of self-destruction, a gorgeously crafted time capsule, and a fantastic showcase for Oscar Isaac in the title role.

On the bright side, Robinson’s unlucky astronauts are played by Liev Schreiber, Elias Koteas, Olivia Williams and Romola Garai. All of these actors approach their potential demise with impressive conviction.

Despite the revved-up start and a suitably dusty setting, the movie stalls almost immediately. The story is uninspired, Lyons looks lost, and Booth makes for a bland femme fatale. Clarke tries to inject some energy into the action, but even he seems to realize this ride’s going nowhere.

What’s crucially missing, however, is a hissable villain. Nor are there any memorable tunes, which is too bad given that Broadway star Menzel is playing Elsa.

The movie doesn’t weave religion into the familiar structure of a comedy or melodrama. Instead, everything works in service to the sermon at the core. For most audience members, that will either be the primary draw or an inescapable drawback.

The movie wouldn’t stand for much of anything without such an effective team to represent the equivocating.

Looking for something unusual to see this weekend? Try this cool time capsule, which premiered in 1972 and then disappeared for decades.

Why does the movie waste so much time on empty adoration from celebrity fans and skim past the significant tragedies that contributed to her complex life? Parental neglect, sexual assault, severe mental illness — all of these factors shaped the woman Page became. But perhaps even today, no one wants to consider the sadness behind her 1,000-watt smile.

Most important, he’s got Vaughn, whose mix of silliness and sincerity is an ideal anchor for the broad premise. Vaughn is one of those actors who tends to autopilot his way through too many mediocre projects. When he goes all in, though, it’s impossible to resist his charm.

We could have lived without another ’90s-influenced exercise in gritty wonderment. But thanks to a perfectly-matched lead, Shia LaBeouf, the movie makes enough impact to justify its existence.

The movie ends with a setup for another sequel, which will undoubtedly be embraced by fans. Let’s just hope we don’t have to wait another 14 years to see it.

The deeply private, intensely ideological and undeniably brilliant Watterson would make an absolutely fascinating subject. But director Joel Allen Schroeder has no access to him. So instead he talks a lot about how much he loves “Calvin and Hobbes” and then invites other fans to do the same.

Sorrentino’s dazzling tribute to Roman indulgence is a bittersweet, slightly surreal epic.

It’s Ross, however, who really makes a lasting impact. Someone should snap her up for a series — and soon.

There’s so much more to this story — as any number of articles about the people he wronged attest — but this time, Gibney never really gets in gear.

The movie’s strong sense of empathy, enhanced by several noteworthy performances, ought to engage most viewers.

Children, of course, won’t notice the political subtext. But do be prepared for them to exit the theater demanding that you make only Tofurkey in the future.

But with Kerouac declaring that “the only thing that matters is the conceptions in my own mind,” we’re still left waiting for the filmmaker who can take us there.

Not much happens in Sandra Nettelbeck’s intimate family drama, but its well-drawn connections between lonely souls make an impact nonetheless.

You certainly won’t learn anything of interest about the Princess of Wales in Oliver Hirschbiegel’s misguided new biopic. But Diana can be declared a success in one regard — its vacant inanity serves to remind us of the perpetual indignities forced upon this unlucky Lady.

What makes the calculated sentimentality palatable is Curtis’ intelligent assurance as he guides us through each step. It’s a gooey indulgence, to be sure, but one that will please anybody with a cinematic sweet tooth.

Given that his subjects are so inspiring, surely Levy could have spiced up his storytelling with a bit more creativity.

The historically essential document they’ve created here pulses with an immediacy that will leave you simultaneously enlightened and stunned.

Overlong and dramatically thin.

What a letdown it is to see this spellbinding, era-defining story tamed into such stodgy submission.

As for Ginsberg himself: Should we be more impressed that Radcliffe so confidently portrays an actual icon, or that he banishes all memories of the fictional one he’s portrayed before? Both accomplishments suggest that he’s got real talent, and a future that’s already taking him well past Harry Potter.

Redford will surely earn a well-deserved Oscar nomination for this role, to which he commits with unerring dedication. But the real star is writer/director Chandor, whose painstaking approach is exquisite in its spare integrity.

Shabby on the surface and indulgent at its core.

There is no reason a film with an agenda can’t also be engaging or thought-provoking. But what we have here is not so much a movie as a blunt Sunday sermon.

Moore shows promising ingenuity in shooting parts of the movie covertly, within the notoriously restrictive Disney World resort. But his script never takes the same sort of risk.

This version is never rough, nor rude, nor boisterous, but for first-timers, perhaps wisely and slow is the way to go. There will be time enough for them to discover cinema’s superior adaptations anon.

Rare is the film so ineptly made that it barely deserves the dignity of a review. Which, on the one hand, makes this slapdash horror romance somewhat unusual. On the other, however, you’re wasting valuable time just reading about it.

The movie can’t help feeling like a vanity affair — a shot of novocaine, instead of a letter bomb.

Alas, the split-screen compositions, slow-motion effects, pensive closeups and prosthetic teeth can’t distract from what’s missing: Faulkner’s pointed but deeply buried observations of the human condition.

Giamatti and Rudd banter with appeal, but Melissa James Gibson’s lackluster script doesn’t offer either much to work with.

Perhaps it’s inevitable that the movie works best not while we’re watching fictional recreations, but when we see real footage or hear actual broadcasts.

Scott, Winstead and Howard are charming, while Poehler, O’Hara and Jenkins have a grand time bickering. Since Zicherman doesn’t ask much of us in the first place, they make it easy enough to commit.

If you’re considering spending your hard-earned money on such bland fare, you should at least know what you’re getting: a rehash of every rom-com cliché imaginable.

I’ll take messy, daring creativity like Gordon-Levitt’s over a formulaic fantasy any day.

Even if we had never heard of Woody Allen or Adam Sandler, this schlocky effort would feel about as fresh as a week-old bagel.

Who would have guessed that sex, drugs and double-crossing could be so unrelentingly boring?

Despite the hard lessons learned, King seems to have a pretty deep appreciation for Lyle and Nina’s drug of choice — and you’ll probably enjoy the movie a little more if you feel the same. Just think twice if you’re planning to sneak some homemade brownies into the theater when you see it.

This isn’t the sort of movie that defines anyone’s career, as “Sling Blade” once did. But in an industry averse to risk, passion projects — even uneven ones — are always welcome.

As vanity projects go, this one’s unusually well-made — as any portrait of an iconic stylist ought to be.

Despite the movie’s flaws, Cicin-Sain does show considerable confidence for a first-time writer and director.

The kind of middling thriller you might stop to watch if you came across it on cable, director Roger Christian’s “Alien” knockoff is presumably only in theaters because Christian Slater’s contract demanded it.

There’s little doubt that the obvious parallels between this dark coming-of-age drama and “To Kill a Mockingbird” are deliberate. But while they are undeniably overreaching, director Rufus Norris has adapted Daniel Clay’s young adult novel with a sensitivity that will appeal to teens and adults alike.

Hokey reenactments of the war years do the film no favors, but it’s worth sticking them out to witness a humanity that never could be faked.

If last year’s searing old-age tragedy, “Amour” — or 2006’s bravely blunt “Away From Her” — weren’t digestible enough for you, perhaps this mild romance will suffice.

For the most part, we sit in on the conversations as good-natured, ordinary guys — all graduates of Brooklyn College in the ’50s — reminisce.

There simply isn’t enough here to sustain an entire movie.

Better to stick with his slightly weird, ultra-focused nerds, who toil away on something strange and special, simply for the beauty of it.

You know what you’re going to get, and that is, indeed, what Sandler delivers. It’s juvenile, it’s obvious and it’s crass. But with Sandler at the helm, at least it’s as easy to like as it is to forget.

The filmmakers' motivation couldn't be clearer: They needed to capture a way of life that may soon exist only on film and in memory.

It’s still compelling entertainment, as any biopic about Paul Raymond ought to be. Though nearly unknown in the U.S., Raymond was a famous figure in his native Britain, a flashy combination of Donald Trump and Hugh Hefner.

Fans will want to replay the extensive archival footage over and over. Newcomers are more likely to pause halfway through, search out the superlative soundtrack, and immerse themselves in the music that inspired this rare, fall-and-rise story in the first place.

Just like its meaningless title, Rachid Bouchareb’s disappointing drama evokes better works without developing any distinct identity of its own.

Some of Hart’s set — including jokes about his security team and an inspired recounting of a disastrous trip to a dude ranch — is hilarious. And his profane outrage is often funny enough to sell the weaker writing.

Guaranteed to charm anyone who’s out of school and already bored.