Ernest Hardy

A provocative, timely script full of gasp-inducing lines and scenes.

But Walking, which is well-acted and fast-moving, takes a tumble from which it never fully recovers once Josh's diary is found, and the rest of the film is spent tending to spilled secrets and their collateral damage.

Offers no perverse philosophical conundrums and no eye-popping visuals. It's a dull, lifeless bore.

The humor is, at best, thudding. At its worst, it's breathtakingly stupid and offensive.

The film taps the same spiritual thirst and anxiety that has made cultural phenomena of "The Da Vinci Code" and the "Left Behind" series. And it’s just as cheesy.

While the film is slight, predictable, and familiar, it's great popcorn fare.

While the acting is top-notch, the real star of the film is the script.

Slow and depressing, but ultimately haunting film.

If it registers at all, it'll likely be more because of the fuckability of Morris Chestnut -- a star waiting for a worthy film -- than any insights or memorable moments from the movie itself.

Mildly amusing, both charming and diverting, it plays like a La La Land home movie.

Infuriating on almost every conceivable level.

What's meant to be a colorblind story, plays up age-old stereotypes.

The best parts of the movie occur during the outtakes, which are genuinely funny. The movie proper is insufferable.

A diabolically enjoyable documentary on unearned self-esteem.

The filmmakers deftly capture the boys' depression and triumphs, but something of the American character -- the generosity and the arrogance -- as well.

It’s a rousing celebration.

Filled with great archival footage from throughout Hancock's five-decade career, and with elder-statesman words of wisdom from the man himself, Possibilities celebrates an impulse that's too rare in modern music: the love behind the labor of creation.

15 Minutes is simply a bad movie.

A very odd cinematic creature.

It's a mildly enjoyable romp.

Hamstrung by a script that is too often smug, obvious and self-important.

Despite Menkin's clear belief that he's crafted a rousing true-life drama, his film plays like a cliché-ridden, painfully self-conscious Hollywood melodrama about a noble person with disabilities.

Reyes' fast-paced tale soars on the pedigree of its cast, all of whom are clearly having a ball -- Both poignant and wickedly amusing, Empire sets high standards for a subgenre that's rarely had any.

You root for the kids, who are utterly captivating, but Green is another story. His shtick -- a combo of insufferable stage-parent and unbearable rock geek -- is exhausting.

Drags on far too long.

Rung with numb inarticulateness.

An unassuming little film that packs a huge emotional and artistic punch.

Stranded in superficiality, the film is a lifestyle commercial.