Elizabeth Weitzman

Riseborough once again transforms herself dramatically, expanding her role as best she can. But neither the hesitant script — adapted by Tom Bradby from his own novel — nor the sluggish tempo give her enough support.

Built on dry one-liners, off-kilter timing and self-conscious nostalgia, The Kings of Summer seems expressly designed to delight quirk-loving Sundance audiences.

For a while, Leterrier does manage to conjure up a little bit of magic between all these charming actors. And then, presto: Just like that, it’s gone.

There probably is an interesting story in Van’s rags-to-riches tale. But all we get in this extended publicity stunt is clichéd filmmaking, stilted performances and a self-aggrandizing hero.

Plimpton recorded many of these adventures in books that are well worth seeking out. But if you don’t have enough time to do so, Bean and Poling have assembled a delightful cheat sheet.

The vastly divergent paths of Assange and Manning make up the most fascinating aspects of this relentlessly compelling film.

“Let’s go for a little ride,” teases Vin Diesel as Dom Toretto at the start of Fast & Furious 6, an amusingly mild suggestion that’s also the only moment of understatement in two dizzyingly high-octane hours.

There’s no explaining the presence of Guy Pearce in Pauline Chan’s sappy, atonal family drama. But it’s easy enough to understand why he looks so uncomfortable throughout.

Sokolinski, a French pop singer better known at home as Soko, is fully in tune with Winocour’s sharp vision. Her intense, almost accusatory turn feels like the opposing image of Keira Knightley’s intellectual neurosis in 2011’s similarly themed “A Dangerous Method.” Where that film found some lightness within the dark, this one drags an historic darkness into the light.

Most people can only watch the same movie so many times. But Philipp Stölzl is clearly hopeful that when you’re done with “Taken” (and “Taken 2”), you’ll want more of the same. Should that be the case, this undistinguished but decent knockoff is ready to satisfy.

It would be nice to say that Rourke, at least, offers a reason to see this junky thriller, about an American agent who gets involved in an Indonesian terrorist plot. But as entertaining as it is to watch him adopt a strange accent and swan around in sarongs as an eccentric jewel thief, it’s also a little depressing. The paycheck cannot possibly be worth it.

Directors Maiken Baird and Michelle Major may have begun this documentary with the intention of profiling two of the most successful siblings in sports. But any reality TV viewer knows that bad behavior is always more compelling than likability. So this movie’s title becomes, perhaps to the filmmakers’ own surprise, a little misleading.

Director Tina Gordon Chism, who also wrote the screenplay, seems to have relied pretty strongly on Perry for guidance. In particular, she rejects any notions of subtlety, either in the comedy or the weirdly heavy-handed messages about masculinity.

Luhrmann piles on one shiny distraction after another. But amid all the seductively gaudy excess, DiCaprio finds both the heart and hurt buried within one of literature’s everlasting enigmas.

It’s a mystery as to how so much talent combined to create such a cynically superficial product.

Assayas may have been inspired by biographical memories, but “Air” is so sensitively observed that it simultaneously evokes a universal, and eternal, state of adolescence as well.

Though Nair leaves us guessing as to Changez’s motivations, she also uses a pretty heavy hand in laying out the movie’s themes. The changes between the novel and the screenplay are equally unsubtle, especially in regards to the ill-conceived romance.

There’s never a moment when we forget that Mike and Wallace are just vacant personalities that two talented actors decided to try on for fun.

To be sure, there are many reasons to see the film. The cinematography is memorably vibrant, and the performances are solid, even if they pass by too swiftly. Most of all, of course, the subject matter remains fascinating.

Most notably, Bahrani offers an emotional depiction of American farming that will leave viewers troubled, as it should. But he loses his footing when it comes to the story itself.

Neither Claude nor Ozon comes up with a satisfying finish to this intriguing setup. But because they’re both so committed to seducing their audience, it’s a lot of fun watching them try.

The setting and themes are pure Loach, and he’s handled comic scenarios with skill before. But he and his longtime screenwriter, Paul Laverty, have added a lighthearted buoyancy — enhanced by a spirited if obvious soundtrack — that might lead some to call this a feel-good crowd-pleaser.

The fine cast pushes beyond the script’s limits, even if some, like Hope Davis as Ben’s mom, are mostly wasted.

Berger’s got some clever ideas, but he does not push far in exploring them. And aside from Cross, there is virtually no one to like among these self-involved suburbanites. After an hour alone with them, we can’t help wishing The End would just arrive.

Along with Moore, all of them deserve some kind of credit for committing to a movie barely six souls will ever even see.

Though consistently engaging, Redford’s latest directorial endeavor does feel like a plea. You can almost hear him coaxing us to learn from the past, even as we rush into the future.

Though Alvarez keeps us watching, he takes no real chances. Buried under all those enthusiastically mangled bodies is the comfort of familiarity. He may have intended to remake a single film, but we’ve seen this movie countless times before.

The actors hold our attention, and there’s something to be said for the guys’ pathological disconnect. But the movie itself is too disconnected to say it.