Frank Scheck

The Cat Rescuers can sometimes feel manipulative, with its endless shots of adorable felines calmly and happily responding to being petted and embraced.

Fortunately, its talented and appealing young ensemble make it go down as easily as a cold beer on a hot…well, you know.

Lying and Stealing might have been more effective if its two leads had more charisma, but James is mostly bland and Ratajkowski never quite convinces as a woman of mystery. This is the sort of lighthearted exercise that requires genuine star power to overcome its triviality, and the lack of it here seriously diminishes its impact.

While Asbury Park: Riot, Redemption, Rock 'n' Roll too often feels like a promotional video created by a local tourism organization, it nonetheless provides an engaging history of the town and its once-vibrant music scene.

Orson Oblowitz's Trespassers, the latest horror film to illustrate this principle, doesn't add anything particularly original to the home invasion genre. But it does provide some cheap thrills along the way.

It sounds like the plot of a classic '50s film noir, but the movie squanders its potential with a lackluster approach that sacrifices thrills for uninvolving character study.

The latest indie effort from writer-director Jérôme Cohen-Olivar (The Midnight Orchestra, Kandisha) modestly succeeds in its modest genre goals, particularly benefiting from its exotic locations. But don't look for anything particularly original in The 16th Episode (originally titled Little Horror Movie), which mainly traffics in overly familiar tropes.

Diluting its powerful themes with overcooked melodrama and unnecessarily distracting subplots, The Other Story would have benefited from a simpler, more direct approach.

Aside from its novel premise, however, Madam Yankelova's Fine Literature Club proves a darkly witty effort that weaves insightful observations about female sexuality and aging into its provocative mix.

Frustratingly timid documentary.

Writer-director Kelker never establishes a consistent tone, eventually aiming for a tragic conclusion that feels hopelessly unearned.

Unfortunately, despite some fine performances and enjoyable moments, the film never manages to make its quirkiness engaging.

The film offers enough astute insights and terrific interviews and performance footage to attract buffs while serving as a superb introduction for neophytes.

A former MMA star, Carano clearly has the impressive physicality and charisma to compete with the male stars in this arena. But she's going to need far better vehicles than this humdrum effort.

Brenner, who also produced, is an absolute delight, demonstrating sharp comic delivery and looking like she's firmly enjoying her character's ability to outwit everyone around her.

The filmmaker's intent was obviously to concentrate on the specific incident and its aftermath, but personal details would probably have enhanced the overall emotional impact. Nonetheless, 16 Shots is a worthy addition to what has sadly become a proliferating documentary subgenre.

This is such a uniquely bizarre story that it can't help but exert a certain fascination. But it's hard to avoid the feeling that it would have been better served by a compelling dramatization rather than this too-dry documentary.

Most problematically, the film is simply atrocious on a technical level, featuring subpar cinematography (a generous term, in this case) and muddy sound that wouldn't pass muster on anything larger than a cellphone screen. If you 're going to put all of those magnificent bodies on display, we should at least be able to see them clearly.

Running a brisk 75 minutes, this is one of those rare documentaries that feels too short. Some of its stories could have been more fleshed out, greater historical context could have been provided, and its use of such musical selections as Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin'" and Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors" are beyond cliche. But these are small quibbles about a film that should be essential viewing in these times when intolerance is on the rise.

The film is notable more for its unusual conceit than as a serious exploration of grief and familial relationships.

The charmingly offbeat effort features the sort of sly, deadpan humor that quietly sneaks up on you, as well as valuable lessons about the need to get out of one's comfort zone.

Q Ball delivers a stirring and moving portrait of a program that provides inmates an opportunity to channel their energy in non-violent fashion.

A stylishly made, nail-biting effort that proves consistently engrossing.

Portraying his most complex character to date, Adkins delivers a ferocious turn that proves visceral in its emotional as well as physical intensity.

The combination of diverse casting and female empowerment themes results in a perfectly politically correct Aladdin for these times. The only thing that seems to have been left out is the magic, which is a bit of a problem considering that one of the main characters is a genie.

While not exactly original, the premise is certainly effective enough. But Brightburn lacks the visual stylization or wit to elevate it from the realm of the crudely effective B-movie.

Unfortunately, the themes don't resonate in sufficiently powerful fashion to compensate for the film's sluggish pacing and strained melodramatics.

Miki Wecel's film will prove fascinating not only to animation and Vincent Van Gogh buffs, but to anyone interested in how the creative sausage is made.

Awkward execution and technical imperfections prevent the film from having its desired emotional impact.

Provides a compelling history of a company that created a groundbreaking product that was unfortunately ahead of its time.

Considering that it was filmed in bits and pieces over two decades, it's not surprising that 17 Blocks is disjointed in its storytelling, nor that its technical elements are ragged (subtitles are frequently employed due to poor sound quality). But it nonetheless packs a potent emotional punch.

The plot machinations of Stuart Flack's screenplay can be seen from a mile away, but that doesn't make this familiar tale of a vengeful, obsessed woman any less satisfying.

The film, marking Ben Hernandez Bray's directorial debut, is mainly a violent police procedural and vigilante drama that succeeds well enough on those terms. It's also notable for its almost entirely Latino cast and deep immersion into East Los Angeles culture. The pic certainly looks authentic, despite the fact that it was largely shot in Calgary.

Astutely chronicling an amazing musical career that ended prematurely due to Parkinson's disease, the doc will delight the singer's old fans and likely make her many new ones as well.

Clara forgets to have anything resembling a compelling plot. Or an original one. Even science geeks will find little here compelling.

The film weaves enough social, political and personal themes into its mix to make it interesting even for those who mainly think of "hockey puck" as a Don Rickles insult.

[A] fascinatingly oddball story.

Those who grew up reading Scary Stores to Tell in the Dark will no doubt be thrilled by this cinematic tribute. And those who didn't may find themselves compelled to read the books to find out for themselves what all the fuss is about.

Too often coming across as an elaborate home movie, the doc would have benefited from its story being told by a more experienced filmmaker who was less emotionally involved in the proceedings.

Unfortunately, for all the debuting filmmaker's talent for creepy atmospherics, I Trapped the Devil feels draggy and attenuated even with its brief 82-minute running time including credits. Despite some good performances, the film goes nowhere, and very, very slowly.

Among the film's most visually dazzling sections are a series of extremely sensual black-and-white photographs of the dancer shot by Richard Avedon, who famously commented of his subject, "His whole body was responding to a kind of wonder at himself. A narcissistic orgy of some kind...an orgy of one."

Although repetitive at times and, like so many show business documentaries, displaying a tendency toward self-congratulation, the film will prove fascinating for dance buffs.

Any viewers actually interested in the topic would be well advised to search elsewhere for information.

Breaking Habits, Robert Ryan's film about "Sister Kate," the habit-wearing founder of a medical marijuana company, proves yet another dispiriting entry in the current documentary glut that embraces all things quirky. Even its title referencing the hit television drama starring Bryan Cranston seems tacky.

Unfortunately, their strenuous efforts (and Esposito tries very, very hard) aren't enough to lift the material above abject hokeyness. This is a film that makes subway riding seem such a miserable experience, you suspect it's been bankrolled by Uber.

I feel confident that even if I were to be magically transformed into the target demographic, I would still find After to be a cliched, mediocre affair. Come back, "Twilight," all is forgiven.

At times, The Most Dangerous Year gets bogged down with its extensive footage of hearings about various bills and ballot initiatives that, however pertinent, inevitably come across with a C-SPAN dullness. But that's a minor quibble about this powerful documentary, which makes the valuable point that this is a civil rights issue and that the arguments being put forth about transgender people sound much like those promoting segregation decades ago.

Deadly earnest in its highbrow seriousness, William would seem ripe for parody, except that "Encino Man" got there first.

V. Scott Balcerek's documentary Satan & Adam makes for fascinating viewing. And even as the film captivates, it sparks instant theorizing as to who will play the lead roles in the inevitable Hollywood feel-good dramatization. I'm thinking Ryan Gosling and Samuel L. Jackson.

But it's Scott who fully carries the film, helping us overlook the story's contrivances with his moving and intense performance as a character who is as far removed from Professor Moriarty as you can get.

While the film doesn't break any new ground either in terms of substance or style, it packs a quiet punch.

Even those unfamiliar with the tale will find it charming and moving, and, as is so often the case with Australian films, the scenery can't be beat.

Starring a miscast Hilary Duff in the title role, The Haunting of Sharon Tate deserves the instant obscurity for which it is certainly destined.

Unfortunately, Reinventing Rosalee, the new film about her directed by her daughter Lillian Glass, feels less like a documentary than the most elaborate Mother's Day present ever.

Unfortunately, while Long Lost has its moments, it ultimately fails to capitalize on its intriguing premise.

There have been films that treated Nazi doctors conducting evil experiments in concentration camps more sympathetically.

To say that thespians live for opportunities such as this is an understatement, and Schull, whose restrained underplaying only makes the material more powerful, makes the most of it.

The latest example of the unfortunately fertile trend is a comedy from Josh Huber that features every stereotypical plot element and predictable gag imaginable. Making Babies demonstrates the need for creative contraception.

Proves so determinedly ebullient you begin to think they're pumping laughing gas into the auditorium. The most kid-friendly DC movie so far, the film is thoroughly entertaining.

It's an intelligent, well-done pic whose restraint can be commended. But it also operates at such a slow burn that it comes close to fizzling out completely.

There's plenty of material here for a reasonably engrossing drama. Somehow, screenwriters Craig R. Welch and Greg Gerani fail to come up with anything remotely interesting.

It provides a powerful depiction of the blame-the-victim culture that has so long dominated the national discussion about rape and which only now thankfully seems to be receding. Although there's clearly a long, long way to go.

Mitchell proves as interesting a figure as the downtrodden people he's dedicated to helping. More often seen shirtless or in a tank top and shorts than a judge's robe, he would certainly qualify for a "Sexiest Judges of Los Angeles" calendar should one ever be created.

Wearing the proverbial black hat and speaking his menacing lines in a husky, near-whisper, Cusack thoroughly galvanizes the proceedings.

Even if the sophomoric Porno doesn't make the grade, it represents a promising start for the talented filmmaker.

Visually murky, choppily edited and lacking both narrative clarity and well-defined characterizations, Captive State is a deeply frustrating viewing experience. It seems to be straining mightily for a future cult status which it doesn't deserve.

Eden Marryshow (Jessica Jones) makes an arduous attempt in his feature directorial debut, in which he plays the title role of an unemployed actor who gets by thanks to the good graces of family and friends. But his character ultimately proves far more grating than endearing, making Bruce!!! a slog to endure.

Unfortunately, despite the fascinating story that provides its inspiration and a solid cast, the pic provides neither sufficient thrills nor humor to make it anything more than a minor diversion.

Like so many animated movies these days, it buries its ideas in a visual and aural cacophony of frenzied action sequences designed to engage the shortest of attention spans.

Giacomo Durzi's aptly titled documentary Ferrante Fever delivers a fan-friendly examination of the novelist and her works, and what it lacks in depth it more than makes up for with enthusiasm.

Nonetheless, Island of the Hungry Ghosts casts an undeniably hypnotic spell. The documentary also serves as an important reminder that the United States is far from alone in mistreating its would-be immigrants.

A potentially taut thriller is marred by frequently laughable dialogue in Matthew Montgomery's debut feature.

Perry doesn't even try to successfully integrate the story's comedic and dramatic elements, merely toggling back and forth between them as if in need of mood stabilizers.