Gary Goldstein

Playing It Cool is a strained romantic comedy that seems to exist only to show how many talented, successful actors — first and foremost "Captain America" star Chris Evans — can be featured in one unworthy movie.

The neo-noir crime comedy Kill Me Three Times works overtime to seem unique and clever. The result, however, is a derivative, gimmicky, at times dizzying puzzle that fails to engage.

The proceedings can seem less like a fresh retelling of a seminal story and more like, despite stabs at grit and terror, a theatricalized, dewy-eyed version of days past.

Unfortunately, Merson clutters her sometimes soulful, sensitive story with too many formulaic contrivances to impede Catherine's personal and professional progress.

Modestly entertaining film.

Write When You Get Work doesn’t work. Not as a romance, not as a Robin Hood-tinged caper flick, not as a social commentary on racial inequity or classism, and not as a male-buddy picture — all elements director Stacy Cochran attempts to wedge into her often muddled, under-focused script.

Plot holes aside, the filmmakers provide enough well-timed jumps and energetic moments to keep the highly contained picture afloat.

[An] enjoyable documentary.

Not to be glib, but sitting through the art-centric chamber piece The Time Being is truly like watching paint dry.

May please non-discriminating fans of its co-writer/director/star (and more) Jackie Chan, but will likely leave most other viewers dazed, confused and eagerly watching the clock.

[An] earnest but terribly ham-fisted drama.

The oddball script by Mitch Glazer ("Scrooged"), as directed by Barry Levinson ("Rain Man," "Good Morning, Vietnam"), takes so long to bring Richie and Salima together, it deprives us of the kind of fully fleshed dynamic the story so desperately needs.

Save a weak police pursuit, events are earnestly depicted and involvingly played, even if the period re-creation at times feels overly burnished. Still, Love and Honor suffices as old-fashioned, pie-in-the-sky entertainment.

Despite all the mayhem, Mortimer never whips up any real sense of dread or tension.

[A] tedious cinematic exercise.

It all feels forced and fabricated.

Although this well-meaning film may appeal to its intended audience on a spiritual level, the result is a sluggish, clinical, largely dreary portrait that tends to mistake trauma for drama.

The war scenes and their aftermath are involving and emotionally sound as well as skillfully shot and edited. And if several moments smack of revisionist history, perhaps best to ascribe them to dramatic license.

Eternity: the Movie, a purposely cheesy sendup of mid-1980s pop music, offers committed performances and a few chuckles, but it's a largely one-note rendition.

The result is a chronically “meh” coming-of-age meets dysfunctional-family tale, with a particularly unsatisfying ending.

Under the workmanlike direction of Jon Cassar (“Forsaken”), “Bough” breaks little new or inspired ground as it spins out its mildly effective, occasionally silly cautionary tale.

There's a late-breaking twist that might seem impressive if it didn't make all the previous mayhem feel so intensely pointless.

Amid the choppy action and whirl of sketchy characters lie muddled messages about revenge, greed, war, hubris and the endless ripple effects of 9/11.

Though it's not that gracefully told and sometimes seems to exist just to plug eco-friendly cleaning supplies, A Green Story holds interest as a gentle, old-fashioned look at achieving the American dream.

Those who do find their way into this supremely silly action-mystery caper are in for a few grins if not laughs thanks largely to the deft — and daft — performance of Johnny Depp in the title role.

The Curse of Sleeping Beauty is a hard-working but dreary horror-thriller inspired by the classic Grimm’s fairy tale.

There's such mechanical artifice at work that it's hard to do more than squirm and groan at the couple's ultimate travails.

This well-intentioned, sumptuously shot tale of love and war, directed by Joseph Ruben, lacks the emotional depth and romantic grandeur to fulfill its epic ambitions.

It’s a little dumb (OK, maybe more than a little), but No Good Deed is an otherwise brisk, efficient thriller that won’t punish audiences who drop in.

The historical saga can feel cursory, at times unconvincingly rendered given how many events and far-flung locales this overly ambitious film strains to cover on a seemingly limited budget.

Unfortunately, writer-director Josh Shelov's sendup of the Manhattan private school culture flies off its comic rails after an engaging start, never to land back on solid ground.

Only during the movie's sweet epilogue do we get a sense of what Friended could have been had the filmmakers taken a smarter, gentler, more human approach.

A laughably cheesy, empty-headed follow-up that makes the mediocre prior film shine in comparison.

A movie of such snowballing stupidity that it's a wonder the actors could keep straight faces while shooting it (outtakes, please!).

The Diabolical is a tepid horror-thriller that never manages to sell, much less clarify, its potentially ambitious concept.

Period re-creation is decent (the interiors-heavy film was shot entirely in Puerto Rico), Polish effectively peppers in bits of archival footage, and the story is often involving despite its missteps. Still, it’s hard not to wonder where the picture might have landed with a more skillful, charismatic lead and a subtler retelling.

Director Steven C. Miller, working off a script by Max Adams and Umair Aleem, keeps things moving at a breakneck pace in an attempt, it seems, to help mask the film's convoluted plotting, one-note performances and bad dialogue.

Moms' Night Out is a hectic mess that does just the opposite of what it clearly set out to do: It makes motherhood seem like one of the most ill-conceived ideas since New Coke.

A biopic about Mother Teresa could have easily been a self-important slog, yet William Riead's The Letters proves a stirring and absorbing if not quite definitive drama.

Sadly, there's not an ounce of tension or a single decent scare to be found amid any of this convoluted mayhem.

It's not the worst idea for a revenge fantasy, but Jim's payback is so lacking in logic and reality, not to mention tension, that it proves more laughable than cathartic.

Director Vivi Friedman's inability to successfully reconcile the film's duality undercuts an eclectic cast gamely committed to Mark Lisson's thematically ambitious, if scattered, script.

Perhaps most egregiously, director Mike Sears, working from Martin Dugard's awkwardly structured, subtext-free script, builds little excitement for the game of lacrosse, which comes off here as all sticks and legs and bad camera angles.

The clumsily shot and scripted Now & Later is a hollow concoction of sex, politics and endless chatter that's just a few camera angles short of hard-core porn.

Though writer-director Bryan Anthony Ramirez keeps things moving apace, he trots out so many familiar tropes that it's often like watching a highlights reel from a lifetime's worth of urban crime dramas.

Although writer-director Steven Luke’s reach often exceeds his grasp, he’s managed to present a meaningful, largely involving, if decidedly small-scale and fictionalized story about race, courage and comradeship.

Although this unsettlingly sympathetic biopic covering around the last 30 years in the life of famed New York mobster John Gotti is mostly well-acted and frequently entertaining, it bites off more than it can — or even needs to — chew, packing it all into a less-than-epic running time.

Anchored by a nicely understated performance by Seann William Scott, Just Before I Go effectively juggles a wealth of genuine, at times profound, emotion with quite a bit of nutty-raunchy humor.

Magical swords, evil doppelgangers, a sexy black muscle car, an unremarkable final showdown and lots of first-draft dialogue factor into this thankfully brief (about 80 minutes plus end credits) frightfest.

That the film looks good matters little when director Peter A. Dowling’s script, based on the novel by Sharon Bolton, is filled with so many thinly drawn characters, blunt warning signs and telegraphed plot points.

The Sea of Trees proves a stronger movie experience than one might expect. It’s anchored by a fine, understated performance by Matthew McConaughey and a deeply felt, if at times melodramatic, story that proves strangely immersive.

Save Mailer’s pushy “New Yawk” accent, the leads do what they can with their unconvincing characters and the rusty plot, but it’s a hopeless effort. Nice opening title sequence though.

The gimmick is marginally amusing as Max tests it out in ways both naughty and nice. But so many holes, questions and contradictions arise that it's hard to square the rules of the game.

Despite a few strong emotional beats, the crime drama American Heist proves as undistinguished as its generic title.

Sure, this frequently improvised spoof isn't intended to be taken seriously, but it's also not funny or incisive enough to counter the unappealing persona the actor-comedian has concocted here: an impulsive, clueless narcissist on a journey to reinvent himself as an action star.

Avoid this one like, well, a yeast infection.

This spectacularly dumb and unfunny film will likely bore even the staunchest fans of the “Hangover” movies, of which “Search” is a kind of distant, fatally impoverished cousin.

The time-travel stoner comedy Ripped blows a potentially funny idea on slapdash filmmaking and lazy storytelling. If much of this overly broad eye-roller wasn’t made up on the fly, it sure looks that way.

A muddle of tired themes, bad behaviors and gruesome set pieces.

An alternately creaky and intriguing ride, one of earnest ambition and dashed potential.

K-11 has the makings of a cult movie campfest but little of the authentic wit, edge or outré vision it would take to get there. What's left is a dreary jailhouse drama that somehow managed to imprison a few notable actors within its lurid walls.

Let's Kill Ward's Wife gets by on the casual charms and deft timing of its appealing cast until the midpoint, when the film's pacing and narrative structure take a hit — and never quite recover.

Alternately crass and treacly, overbearing and under-finessed, the film, penned by headhunter-turned-screenwriter Bill Dubuque and directed by Mark Williams, is on life support from get-go.

There's plenty of action, some ping-ponging romance and even a bit of tension as Silver Circle spins its muddled tale. But it's all so overwhelmed by the rudimentary, computer-generated animation (characters don't so much walk as lurch and glide) that, well, the medium becomes the message.

Writer-director Dito Montiel, adapting his novel, takes an ill-conceived premise and drives it into the ground with a painful, tone-deaf approach to both social satire and romantic comedy.

Cavemen writer-director Herschel Faber has sketched such a thin and unfunny look at L.A. singles, it should mark the death knell for movies about child-men on the make.

Contrived and predictable yet fairly tense.

Although this cleverly shot and edited picture (it began as a short, grew into a digital miniseries and was then expanded into a feature) doesn’t shy away from its eccentric side, it remains a convincing, relatable look at one woman’s inner workings and the vicissitudes of love and friendship.

"Swearnet" builds up enough brazen energy and crass goodwill to propel a watchable first hour before it starts to flounder.

Behaving Badly is a dreadful sex comedy that gets worse and worse as its dopey story snowballs into relative incoherence.

Momentum is a spectacularly generic action-thriller that, despite its sleekly shot and edited mayhem, lands with a giant thud.

Your Thanksgiving turkey has arrived on schedule and it's called The Nutcracker in 3D.

Hokey dialogue, a syrupy score, a corny use of slow motion and a slew of contrived or undercooked plot developments further sink a movie whose appeal may elude even die-hard romantics.

Shedding light on world atrocities is vital, but spelling them out in neon is deadly.

The aggressively awful London Fields is, once again, proof that not every successful novel should become a movie.

All the controlled substances in the world couldn't improve a viewing of the execrable Don Peyote, a tedious, incoherent look at a paranoid stoner's emotional and spiritual unraveling.

To his credit, director Andy Fickman (“The Game Plan,” “Parental Guidance”) keeps the inanity moving apace and there are a few chuckles to be had courtesy of the supporting cast. But, as is so often the case with big, star-driven studio laffers, “Cop 2” needed several more spins in the comedy punch-up machine before cameras rolled.

Actions and emotions turn on a dime, chuckles are few and it’s clear this predictable film, directed by John Asher, doesn’t quite realize how retrograde and often offensive it is — which makes it all even worse.

Ironically, the only thing that makes much sense about the DIY effort Oconomowoc is its baffling title.

Cheesy visual effects, flat shooting, slack directing and pacing, risible dialogue and characterization, lots of crummy acting, plus a painfully dull first act make this anything but a rapturous experience.

There's certainly a profound and valuable documentary to be made about our eldest living senior citizens. Sadly, Walter: Lessons From the World's Oldest People isn't it.

To call this winkfest toward an astoundingly retrograde sliver of Judaism offensive would be, well, offensive to the word offensive.

It's a grotesque, deadly dull piece of cinematic upchuck, a horror film minus tension or chills.

10 Rules for Sleeping Around is a dreadful sex farce with barely an authentic emotion, credible character or plausible plot point in its midst.

Once again, the premature loss of a loved one begets family dysfunction in the strangely uneven, yet occasionally resonant Around June.

It's all sharp, well-performed stuff until things go from darkly comic to just plain dark, derailing -- and dragging out -- the otherwise absorbing story. Still, this one's a cut above.

Minn, who often appears on camera, packs this grimly compelling, if slightly padded film with strong archival TV news footage, plus wrenching testimony from the relatives of several innocent bystanders gunned down around the El Paso-Juarez border.

The worthy, potentially exciting subject matter would certainly have lent itself to either a straight-on documentary or a seriously budgeted narrative feature. Instead, producer-director-editor Tristan Loraine (he also cowrote the dreadful script with Viv Young) clumsily tries to meld the two approaches - minus the big bucks.

These folks, who were also extras in "The Soloist," largely discuss their tough pasts and thorny presents with haunting candor, strength and grace - words that also apply to this vivid cinematic portrait.

A seeming lack of conclusive answers or solutions to a complex global problem makes Stuck feel more like a work in progress than a completely baked depiction.

This mission, well intended as it may be, proves a no-go from the get-go.

A vivid portrait that should satisfy aficionados and intrigue the curious. Ink-averse viewers, however, may remain unsold.

The death of the typewriter has been greatly exaggerated, at least according to the fun, compact love letter of a documentary The Typewriter (in the 21st Century).

As the deliberately paced film never gets under the character's skin, it doesn't quite get under ours. Still, it's a physically impressive, visually compelling journey.

The lowbrow comedy Lost and Found in Armenia so shamelessly wallows in its broad humor, silly contrivances and retrograde stereotypes it almost dares you to be annoyed. Mission accomplished.

The performers fully commit to their unlikable parts but, at least as written, even the best actors couldn't create compelling, relatable characters out of this messed-up bunch.

Spotty acting, flashes of crass dialogue, some questionable camera work and awkward storytelling — including a surfeit of phone conversations — further sink this well-meaning effort.

Although it favors breadth over depth, the documentary The United States of Autism offers a tender look at an eclectic array of children, their parents and other individuals affected by this ever-increasing developmental disability.

There are zero thrills — 3-D or otherwise — and, for all the nutty mayhem, the pacing drags.

Good intentions go just so far when a movie is hobbled by such risible, place holder dialogue, contrived plot points, wildly uneven performances and awkward camera work.

A moving and infuriating look at the 2008 murder of openly gay teenager Lawrence "Larry" King.

Jaffe deftly captures his subject's creative process, helpfully illuminating the method to Wilson's comic madness.

An unabashed love letter to all things motorcycle, the documentary "Why We Ride" will surely warm the souls of bike enthusiasts while prompting many nonriders to join the fold.

It's shame that the first film to come out of Lebanon featuring a gay theme turns out to be such a head-scratching jumble.

Bridging the Gap may mainly aim for audio-visual delight (Stephan Mussil's cinematography undeniably dazzles), but as an authentic look at a more than 500-year-old institution, the film proves less in tune.

Director Dong-Suk Kuk ratchets up the tension, effectively toggling back and forth in time to reveal the picture's various puzzle pieces.

Director Yuya Ishii, working off a gentle, finely textured script by Kensaku Watanabe (adapted from the novel by Shiwon Miura) takes his time telling this warm story of the 15-year creation of a definitive print dictionary, but it's a worthy journey.

Overall, writer-director Garrett Batty takes such a tempered approach, the film lacks the kind of gritty, visceral tension that life-and-death tales such as this normally demand.

There's so much that's authentic and likable about the loopy road trip comedy Let's Ruin It With Babies that it's a shame when it loses its mojo along the way.

It's an intriguing setting — and set-up. But a lack of subtlety in the writing and much of the acting (particularly Circus-Szalewski and Ron Roggé as a pair of good cop/bad cop jailers) mitigate the power of the caged men's plights as well as the movie's intended tension.

This unevenly acted yuckfest, which is as unsubtle as its title, has all the pizazz of a bad sitcom episode.

Writers Dan Steadman and Rajeev Sigamoney wisely keep a lid on excessive silliness as they jab at such topics as religious fervor, opportunism and artistic talent — or the lack thereof.

It's the film's well-wrought themes of friendship, self-esteem and responsibility that give this little adventure its ultimate power.

Though dizzyingly informative and diffuse at times, it's a well-shot portrait that's at its best when it eschews the facts for the folks.

It's a stirring and involving character study that may not cover much new ground but still packs a quiet punch.

For all the emotional onion-peeling here, little is revealed that's surprising, unique or particularly deep.

Water & Power remains a quintessential L.A. story that is worth seeing for what it has to say, if not necessarily for how it says it.

The film's solid acting, relatable premise and strong emotional core carry the day.

This flatly shot picture remains cramped by its homespun roots.

The film's many violent action scenes are quite well, er, executed. But there's a far more emotional and profound story here to be told, one that becomes largely eclipsed by the mayhem.

The film takes such an emotionally based, non-wonky approach to its featured business, it should absorb gamers and non-gamers alike.

[A] well-crafted but frankly nonessential documentary.

A painstakingly crafted, lovingly wrought piece.

This is an enjoyably acted trifle that, despite some slowing in its second half, holds interest as it amusingly considers how an act so simple for some can be so tricky for others.

In addition to flat visuals, logy pacing and lots of first-draft dialogue, "Bridge" plays host to such an uninspired — and uninspiring — circle of friends and lovers it's hard to invest in their mundane journeys.

he film, a largely point-and-shoot affair, is an enjoyable, lightly satirical glimpse at the uneasy intersection of marriage, showbiz and life in Los Angeles.

A fatally clueless, painfully overlong sports spoof.

Though Hollidaysburg may not break tons of new ground, it's smart, warm and authentic — one of the better youth comedies of the last few years.

Aside from too many characters and story strands, the dialogue is hackneyed and the acting subpar, starting with the movie's lead.

This is a weirdly compelling look at a weirdly compelling auteur.

Warsaw Uprising is not only a unique, remarkably assembled documentary-narrative hybrid but also a powerful look at the personal and public devastation that can occur during wartime. Movies rarely feel as authentic as this.

There's power and authenticity here. And by the movie's incendiary climax, some tension. If only it were presented in a more magnetic package.

The appealing Doleac, who also produced, acquits himself as an actor. But as a director, he shows a wobbly visual sense and an uneven hand with his cast.

First-time director Girish Malik, who co-wrote with Rakesh Mishra, has crafted a starkly beautiful, at times dazzling, vision that reinforces water as our most valuable — and perhaps most vulnerable — commodity.

That the movie works as well as it does is a testament to writer-director Thomas Farone's persistence and clear connection to his cagey material.

Director Henry Chan, working off a script by Megi Hsu (based on a story by producer Weiko Lin), lets things get overly broad at times but otherwise wrings genial humor and gentle emotion from the familiar setup.

The edgy coming-of-age tale Ask Me Anything begins with a snarky, bubble-gum vibe that gives way to something far deeper and meaningful.

The film takes a few rough turns that lead to Dana's inevitable bottoming out. Otherwise, this well-acted piece is a gentle, humanistic look at the unexpected ways in which relationships form, flourish and flounder and how we define who — and what — is "normal."

Treehouse is a lackluster backwoods thriller that takes far too long to get — well, not very far. There's more tension in a round of Final Jeopardy.

Although the film purposefully traffics in stereotypes, the Myungs' earnest, been-there approach helps soften the spoofy blows.

Had Daskaloff found an appropriately campy groove, he might have eked out some sexy-silly fun. As it stands, the film proves a cheesy, half-baked and decidedly retrograde effort.

With the excruciating gal-pal comedy Apartment Troubles, writer-director-stars Jess Weixler and Jennifer Prediger have created such blurry, unappealing characters that their film is hamstrung from the get-go.

Tension is low, pacing uneven and the acting — LaSardo's eerie work aside — proves subpar.

This is a tonally and visually inconsistent piece whose cracks at "Lethal Weapon"-style humor are needlessly silly or simply flat.

The film, as directed by R.D. Braunstein from a script by Daniel Gilboy, moves at a pretty decent clip and is never boring. Unstomachable at times, yes, but never boring.

Tristan's creaky, often episodic script attempts to tackle some big topics — art, love, loss, family bonds, mortality — but does so in such a forced, talky way that it's hard to buy into the tale's earnest emotional core.

The last gasps of a romantic relationship between two very different men are intimately and delicately charted in the beautifully immersive, if decidedly somber, Like You Mean It.

Despite a few inspired moments and some fun banter, Portrait of a Serial Monogamist is a slight, often random lesbian comedy that offers little new in the way of authentic depth or enlightenment.

A strong visual sense, intriguing tempo and effective economy of words combine to make Hostile Border an above-average crime thriller.

There's lots of throwback fun to be had from Kill Me, Deadly, a lovingly mounted and performed film noir spoof that evokes "The Big Sleep" by way of "The Naked Gun" and "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid."

A sensitively wrought profile in courage, hope and self-respect that's truly transfixing.

Minn's homegrown filmmaking style creates an absorbing intimacy and urgency. But placing Leyzaola's story within a broader national, even international context may have helped further illuminate Mexico's complex, at times contradictory system of crime and punishment.

If we have to work a little harder to invest in Cloro's transporting story, so be it. For serious filmgoers, it will be worth it.

Daddy is the strained, at times cringe-worthy film adaptation of Dan Via's stage play, which ran off-Broadway in 2010 and the next year in Los Angeles. Based on the show's largely good reviews, something was clearly lost in translation.

An involving, largely likable film with a sincere emotional core.

Misconception proves a smart, vital and absorbing portrait.

An intriguing casting gimmick can’t mask a story — and a relationship — that’s largely unremarkable.

Fouce mixes vivid, often disturbing archival footage and photos with moving latter-day interviews with several elderly Frank family members and Holocaust survivors, plus glimpses of Otto’s letters and daughter Anne’s famed writings.

This sparsely populated film’s smart, enjoyable first half provides some nifty banter, fun character bits and a few jokey surprises. But the story turns a bit flat and convoluted as secrets are revealed, allegiances shift and bullets fly.

It runs less than an hour, but the inspiring documentary Black Women in Medicine packs in enough smarts, context and emotional clarity for a far longer film.

This vital, heartfelt portrait lacks the visceral gut-punch needed to fully resonate.

Greater technical and financial detail, additional period context, a deeper look at what makes daredevils such as Branson and Lindstrand tick, and snappier overall chronicling would’ve made this fun ride truly soar.

Although there are contrivances, and Joe’s blurry “catfishing” tale meanders, these folks’ emotional growth feels authentic and touchingly earned.

Despite the film’s brief running time, it packs in vital social context, gay history and nostalgic imagery along with some sad truths.

The “time travel” bit kicks in for real — or rather surreal. But this half-baked device proves too little, too late and fails to jump start the film’s prosaic narrative.

With its muddy timeline, kaleidoscope of fantasies, flashbacks and hallucinations, broad characterizations and sitcom slickness, the film never settles down long enough to congeal, much less feel remotely connected to reality.

When Morin ventures into more mundane territory, including several parent-child scenes, the film — and the performances — can feel forced and inauthentic. But as a zeitgeist-heavy memory piece, NY84 knows its stuff.

Unfortunately, the climactic table-turning here feels more mechanical than cathartic and does little to elevate the film’s undistinguished narrative.

The story of The David Dance might have seemed more timely and vital when first presented as a play in 2003. Today, however, the delayed film version (it was shot in 2009) feels remarkably dated. It’s also logy, stagey and overlong.

As it stands, this abysmal romantic comedy serves as an abject lesson against vanity filmmaking.

Although it aspires to be a kind of latter-day “Love Story,” the rote, overly earnest drama New Life exists largely on the surface.

Despite the use of strong archival clips and photos, the film, with its ongoing stream of talking heads, can make for static, at times sluggish viewing. Still, this key episode in American military history deserves to be commemorated.

Growing Up Smith is a well-intentioned fizzle that misses what should have been an easily reachable mark.

Anne Frank: Then and Now may be an oddly structured little docudrama but it makes the most of its eerily cogent message.

This capably-acted and shot film...tries too hard to hammer home its points. So much so that its messaging becomes diffused, if not lost, amid the overlong picture’s mounting frenzy.

Director Papu Curotto brings Andi Nachon’s tender script to life with stirring economy and warmth as well as a wistfulness so palpable it’s practically its own character.

Everything you ever wanted to know — or perhaps never knew you wanted to know — about the wildly influential Roland TR-808 drum machine is laid out with entertaining, if exhaustive, brio in the documentary 808.

Despite an atmosphere of simmering violence and criminal wrongdoing, Boatman is more art film than action film; deliberately paced, skillfully shot, emotionally challenging.

Input from historians, political scientists and other observers, as well as archival footage and photos, and impressionistic reenactment bits, round out this resonant, not untimely portrait of a dark and frightening chapter in Brazil’s past.

A sporadically fun, heartfelt ride whose script by director Joseph Itaya and Erik Cardona is filled with too many broad strokes, faux close calls, plot conveniences and questionable story points to feel fully baked.

A fine Watkins brings quiet depth and pathos to the buttoned-up, tightly wound Jonathan, while Graye proves an appealingly game and sexy counterpart.

The film captures the dazzling beauty of its ocean locales, both above and beneath the surface, while soberly reminding us of the crucial ecological issues — and solutions — at hand.

The main achievement of The Institute is that its cast kept straight faces long enough to shoot this risible gothic chiller. A

It’s a testament to Jack Bryant’s lovely script and Kerstin Karlhuber’s thoughtful direction that this controversial concept is handled with such even-handedness and grace.

For anyone unfamiliar with physics or averse to a while-you-watch cram course, this film might prove a mind-numbing slog.

The largely Russian- and Kazakh-speaking cast is so incongruously dubbed into English it evokes an old Japanese monster movie.

The film’s narrative engine remains too choppy and clunky, and the characters too cursorily developed, to hold attention.

Although I Love You Both never quite pays off on its provocative set-up, it proves to be a funny and endearingly quirky comedy about siblings, love and loyalty.

Flights of fancy are peppered in throughout but can’t make up for this concoction’s missing ingredient: romantic chemistry.

Laura E. Davis and Jessica Kaye, who co-wrote and directed, compress a lifetime’s worth of familial puzzle pieces into a few choppy days of angst and dubious behavior that never quite gels, despite being occasionally intriguing.

It’s about as plausible as your average stage — or movie — musical, but Opening Night proves a funny and sexy, if decidedly slight, backstage comedy.

Striking images of sex and violence combine with an often effective sense of dread as these grim story lines unfold. But without sufficient context and psychological underpinning, less proves decidedly less.

Battle Scars is an uneasy mix of military drama and low-rent crime thriller whose seamy elements, under-examined characters and forced plot turns undercut its attempted messaging about war-induced post-traumatic stress disorder.

It’s a gutsy, often off-putting piece whose eccentric little New York story and experimental vibe might have been better served by a short film.

More specific sense of time and route (a map, anyone?) and a bit of even basic scientific scrutiny would have improved this otherwise compelling and provocative journey.

It’s best not to attempt to fathom too much of what goes on in this colorful fantasy-adventure and simply take in its lushly shot and designed visuals, eye-popping effects, lively action and often lovely score.

Tunick’s clearly budget-conscious choice to shoot largely inside the couple’s nicely appointed home compounds this routinely shot and edited film’s stagy, static quality.

Unfortunately, with its on-the-nose dialogue, abrupt turns and overuse of fades and dissolves, the film can feel more like a checklist of scenes than a fully plumbed and cohesive work.

Misfortune recycles such familiar genre tropes as ill-gotten gains, double-crosses, ruthless gunplay and last-chance locales, but serves them up in a taut, twisty and involving way.

Although the movie...could use some second-half tightening and a bit more objectivity (Georgia-Pacific and Koch Industries did not comment in the film), it remains a vital, eye-opening portrait.

Although much of what happens in Get Big feels borrowed from most every teen comedy from “Risky Business” to “Superbad,” this micro-budget effort from 23-year-old newbie writer-director Dylan Moran (who also stars), whips up plenty of humor and charm as well as several organic, well-served life lessons.

Dufils vividly captures the locale’s seedy, swampy vibe, with its dive bars, shabby homes, ubiquitous convenience stores and underground fight spots. If only there were a more compelling, engaging narrative to match.

Those with the fortitude to relive the events of the morning of 9/11 should find the documentary Man in Red Bandana a powerful and inspiring experience.

A bit of tightening, largely involving segues abroad to Australia, Japan and Kenya, would have helped the picture’s pacing. But it’s the pride and strength of Boston’s leaders and citizens, as well as the marathon’s devoted contenders and planners that ultimately fuel this affecting portrait.

First-time feature writer-director Morgan Dameron attempts to craft a love letter to her native heartland and to sisterhood, but falls short on both fronts, rarely digging beneath the surface of small-town bonhomie and what makes Millie and Emma tick.

The romantic adventure Tam Cam: The Untold Story begins like “Cinderella,” finishes à la “Beauty and the Beast” and in between runs the gamut of action-fantasy tropes with entertaining, if at times overly broad and narratively choppy, results.

George combines a wide array of strong, if at times grisly, archival footage and photos with remarkable interviews with two centenarian survivors of the killings, plus moving commentary from many Armenians whose relatives perished in that first massacre and/or more recent conflicts across Azerbaijan.

Take My Nose … Please! is a lively and enjoyable documentary about comedians, plastic surgery, female self-image, aging in Hollywood, and other facets of facial politics.

Despite frequent self-seriousness, a melodramatic third act and a seeming fixation with Islamic State, this unevenly acted, Alabama-shot film is not without its stabs at humor.

Writer-director Douglas Mueller's tedious drama Repatriation seems unsure of what it wants to say or how to say it — much less how to effectively shoot or edit it.

Director Alison Eastwood ("Rails & Ties"), despite an evident affinity for the material, takes an overly stagy approach to the scenes, when a more lyrical, atmospheric style was in order.

What director-editor Robyn Symon's entertaining documentary lacks in polish it makes up for with its uniquely charismatic lead subject and her stranger-than-fiction tale.

A creaky recount of the relationship between affluent, New England-born painter Catharine Robb (Julie Lynn Mortensen) and her rural-Canadian artist husband, Peter Whyte (Juan Riedinger).

Kalhor's concise if low-key narration helps the story's many facts and facets unfold with clarity and context. Ultimately, though, it's the stranger-than-fiction nature of this eye-opening tale that makes the film so vital and involving.

Ameer may be aiming for a profound look at self-hatred, denial or the perils of the gay closet, but his story and characters are too superficially etched to make an impact.

Headley has created three oddly memorable folks here, no small feat given their detail-light histories. It’s also a testament to the able cast — especially the enjoyably nimble Rogers — that we invest in their characters and their cockeyed plight as much as we do.

The stirring, masterfully constructed documentary “Apache Warrior” makes intriguing use of three recovered flight tapes from a squadron of U.S. Apache fighter helicopters that launched a deep attack in Iraq at the start of the war in March 2003.

Forget the cheapo title, Badsville is a powerful, deeply felt crime drama about letting go of the past and getting out of Dodge — before it’s too late.

The colorful animated comedy Monster Family relies so heavily on pratfalls, slapstick and other bits of rude or raucous action that it undercuts whatever good intentions its workable story may have had.

[A] diverting, oddly candid, often satirical documentary.

Writer-director Norman Gregory McGuire needed to better flesh out his inconsistent main characters, clarify their goals and motivations, and deepen their journey with more vivid set pieces and fewer clichés.

The often difficult squaring of religious fervor and sexual longing receives poignant, powerful treatment in The Revival, deftly directed by Jennifer Gerber from a sensitive script by Samuel Brett Williams, based on his stage play.

A few plot contrivances aside, Padman is a well-told and performed film that compellingly fills its lengthy running time with hope, resolve and exuberance.

It's a no-go from the get-go with its labored stabs at humor and satire, doltish characters, utter disconnection from reality (even for a spoof) and scenes stretched to the breaking point.

The crime thriller Bent, not to be confused with the acclaimed Holocaust-era drama of the same name, is a routine programmer filled with surface characters, generic tough-talk and forgettable plotting.

The Aussie crime-thriller "Hidden Light" manages to be an involving ride despite its sometimes murky storytelling and elliptical character connections.

Although director Giorgio Serafini keeps the action apace in what's largely a one-location setting (the movie was shot in Texas), Garry Charles' script at times lacks clarity and credibility, as well as sufficient back story about the showy Steve. Still, Flanery and Balfour keep us watching.

Unnerving camerawork, editing and sound design rule this nightmarish, nonlinear effort which features credible glimpses into the world of celebrity, if not the music business itself. But dialogue, characterizations and acting (Eric Roberts has a negligible cameo) feel decidedly secondary to the film's more jarring visceral elements.

The visually arresting, wickedly entertaining crime drama Pickings marks an impressive narrative feature directing debut by Usher Morgan, who also wrote, edited and produced. He's a talent to watch.

It's all rather low-rent and generic, not particularly distinguished by its overused Bayou setting.

When the film, directed by Jason Winn, should accelerate, it turns sluggish, attempting to dot a few too many i's — thematically, emotionally, racing-wise — in telling its only marginally compelling story, with the lackluster Tom-Jeremy dynamic driving too much of the action.

The feature's visual simplicity ends up countering the play's more florid, flamboyant elements, keeping the lean but intense story more centered and accessible.

The Con Is On takes off like a shot: a stylish caper with enjoyably wry, martini-soaked dialogue and a terrific comedic turn by Uma Thurman as a glamorous British scam artist. Then there's the film's second half — which sinks like a stone.

Although first-time feature writer-director West Liang misses the boat on depth and any sort of memorable emotional unraveling, he touches on a range of realistic, recognizable feelings and dynamics: romantic, marital, parental, professional, sororal.

This choppy film, which is saddled with a subplot about a dogged insurance agent (Richard Portnow), becomes more mechanical than emotional, leapfrogging time, logic and process as it scrambles to its too clever-by-half conclusion.

Sketches a provocative portrait of the prolific, trenchantly talented artist and satirist.

The endless sharing and chaotic conflicts that ensue among these largely uninviting men prove more tedious than convincing, with flashback bits that are more redundant than enlightening.

Spotty acting and casting, many thinly drawn or over-the-top characters, weak stabs at humor, and some awkward editing and dialogue further undermine this well-intentioned effort.

It all plays out more convincingly than it may sound, with McIvor layering in depth, dimension and grace. Period re-creation is also first rate and, for animal fans, there’s eye candy aplenty in the form of giraffes, lions, chimps, flamingos and, of course, one soulful elephant.

Its plot can be opaque and its characters often too remote and inscrutable to embrace, but Guilty Men, Colombia’s official Oscar entry for 2018, remains an absorbing, visually gripping crime-thriller from writer-director Iván D. Gaona.

Throughout, Reynolds approaches the range of people and issues he encounters with warmth, candor and earnest support.

The modestly watchable, at times intriguing romantic mystery Intersection is never quite skillful or convincing enough to forget for even a moment how many far better haunted hunk-meets-femme fatale thrillers have come before it.

There’s some well-crafted dialogue and decent acting, including from Joseph R. Sicari as a besieged producer. But this overly talky and stagey film, which takes place mostly in Colt’s hotel room and trailer — and frustratingly off-set — lacks the requisite catharsis and charisma to sufficiently engage.

Belgian director Amélie van Elmbt’s lovely trifle The Elephant and the Butterfly is as sweet and gentle — and at times simplistic — as its storybook title may imply.

Angels on Tap is an ill-conceived comic-fantasy filled with strained and creaky humor, cardboard characters, an inane framing device and, as directed by Trudy Sargent, zero cinematic style.

If the show’s hilarious first half gives way to a more modestly amusing second part, Noble Ape remains good, clean, relatable fun.

Larger Than Life: The Kevyn Aucoin Story is a rich, deeply dimensional documentary looking back at the legendary makeup artist who died in 2002 at 40.

Although it’s a serviceable enough story, the script by Blake Harris, who co-directed with Chris Bouchard, is often too earnest and forced to prove sufficiently fun or wondrous.

The movie, based on the novel “Seventy Times Seven,” is so laden with hoary gay stereotypes and references (enough with “The Golden Girls”!), anachronistic name-checks (Charo? Jeff Stryker?), groan-worthy silliness, overplayed emotion and amateurish crafting it never had a prayer.

There are ultimately kernels of truth buried amid the film’s random yakking, mini-crises and bits of forced bad behavior, but they prove too little, too late.

A sluggish film that incessantly tries but never quite hits its big-as-a-barn emotional targets.

The film covers a great deal of honest, funny and timely ground, though be prepared to revisit some of Bush and Trump’s “greatest hits” via a rehashing of archival news clips.

Eldar and Abbas share candid, heartfelt observations about what they consider an internal culture war within Israeli society and its troubling effects.

O’Rowe...evokes both a theatrical and literary sense of narrative (it’s likely no coincidence that Jim references novelist John Updike), with scenes effectively unfolding like well-honed chapters. The cast is also first-rate.

Despite scads of stiff exposition and constant proclamations of Salvador’s genius, the brash, eccentric, weirdly mustachioed artist remains an elusive and puzzling force. That he’s played, unconvincingly from teen years to death, by an often annoying Joan Carreras doesn’t help.

This astonishingly bad film, adapted by writer-director Raghav Peri from a novel by Michaelangelo Rodriguez, mishmashes such big topics as genocide, homosexuality, teen pregnancy, child abuse, alcoholism and mental illness into a painful, inadvertently laughable stew.

Unfortunately the film, directed by Leon Marr (script by Marr and Sherry Soules) needs more pep in its step, could use some judicious trimming and, save for the chatty, wheelchair-using Charlie (Louis Del Grande), features an unmemorable, under-drawn group of resident seniors, a missed opportunity to help flesh out — and lighten up — this slender, tender tale.

It’s a valiant but awkward effort.

Despite some honest and poignant emotions and a compelling lead turn by Cybill Shepherd, Being Rose unfolds in an awkwardly constructed, herky-jerky manner that shortchanges its many characters and themes. Let’s just say the spirit is willing but the filmmaking is weak.

Zippy editing, cool black-and-white photography, an excitingly used classic score and whirling, kooky performances add to this deceptively brainy film’s look-at-me fun.

There’s not much story to tell in The Untold Story, a bland, rather old-hat take on male reinvention and redemption. That it’s as watchable as it is proves a testimony to star Barry Van Dyke’s committed turn.

Its timely messages become muted amid a kaleidoscope of settings, characters, brusque action scenes, blunt speechifying and wan romance.

Although it hardly reinvents the genre, the film, nicely directed by Hughes William Thompson, offers just enough smarts and charm to feel fresher than most in its class.

Amid the glorious music, the fine period re-creation and burnished photography, the emotionally sound portrayal of artistic endeavor and that award-worthy turn by Berkeley, The Maestro often scores.

Just sit back and enjoy.

By the time the noirish thriller Naples in Veils draws you into its enigmatic web — which is pretty much from the start — you’re sufficiently invested to enjoyably coast through the rest of this hypnotic, if ambiguous, Italian import.

Masterfully directed by Martín Rodríguez Redondo, who wrote with Mariana Docampo and Mara Pescio, this brief, if deliberately paced picture, features far more silence than words: Dialogue is doled out “as needed” while those silences, which simmer with loaded looks and pointed observations, speak volumes.

How the Great Depression, the World War II era, McCarthyism and the Lavender Scare, the Kinsey Reports, America’s rising bohemian subculture, the 1960s civil rights movement and more all affected the fraught evolution of gay and lesbian existence is chronologically examined here in lucid and enlightening ways.

It’s a one-day-at-a-time kind of portrait that’s dispiriting, unsettling and undeniably authentic.

With its overly arch dialogue and characterizations, airless gentility and forced period trappings it seems that the harder writer-producer Karen R. Hurd and director Barry Andersson strive for authenticity — on what’s clearly a deeply limited budget — the less convincing the film feels. The often stodgy acting doesn’t help.

Listening to the film’s gorgeous renderings will make you a believer.

The film, which adeptly touches on then-apartheid South Africa’s thorny intersection of religion, politics and racism, smartly eschews lurking melodrama and easy outs for subtle tension, tender symbolism, stirring musical bits and effective flights of fancy.

It’s a workable fantasy setup that’s undermined by a seemingly deliberate lack of detail about the characters, the Club and the world at large. Midway, the story takes a potentially intriguing turn but becomes more muddled than masterly.

Unfortunately, it overdoes — and overplays — the strident litany of he said-she said recriminations and reprisals until the lovers get to some key truths and unexpected reactions.

An unconvincing, late-breaking tragic turn; several dubious, go-nowhere supporting characters; and a blurrily provocative ending don’t help.

It’s a largely mechanical, on-the-nose, vaguely faith-oriented retelling of Shankwitz’s fraught life and the singular string of episodes that led the Arizona motorcycle cop to his true calling.

Adam Dick makes a solid feature writing-directing debut with “Teacher,” a tense and propulsive thriller with several vital, provocatively rendered thoughts on its seething mind.

Kallos’ tough, austere, often Bergmanesque debut feature (he’s an admitted fan of the Swedish master) also offers a vivid window into South Africa’s churchgoing, agriculture-dominant Free State region, as well as of several lingering effects of apartheid and the cultural decline of the nation’s Afrikaner population.

Although deliberately paced and a bit repetitive, the movie contains many lovely subtleties and two superb, swoony lead turns that keep us invested.

Director Jaki Bradley can’t quite pull the story’s disparate strands together to form an effective narrative, much less a lucid finale. There’s a potentially nifty gay noir lurking about, but this “Ferry” misses the dock.

The movie could have used a more thorough, gram-for-gram comparison of plant-based and animal proteins. No matter, there’s much fine food for thought.

With its deeply creaky gender and racial themes, this strained film evokes something unearthed from several decades ago, if not before.

Although it occasionally plays as a Statue of Liberty promotional tool (there are worse things), the film is a timely, engaging and well-assembled look at one of our national treasures and its eternal place as a beacon of light for anyone “yearning to breathe free.”

It’s hard not to be taken by these beautiful animals’ intelligence and devotion. More specifics about the dogs’ training, care and the costs involved would have been a plus. Otherwise, it’s a stirring portrait of war, duty, sacrifice and the love of a good dog.

Although 16 Bars doesn’t always effectively balance its powerful music element with its stirring personal profiles, the film remains a vital and involving portrait.

Although vital and intriguing, the film could have been more seamlessly assembled.

The freewheeling, DIY quality of Lost Holiday works both for and against this quasi-caper comedy.

A strained and overly obvious battle-of-the-sexes tale.

The movie, filmed over several start-and-stop years (credited director Eric Etebari completed the shoot) contains lots of weak dialogue, heavy-handed faith talk, awkward voiceovers, thin characterizations and illogical plot turns. Any questions?

The highly decorated Cohn is a feminist heroine who definitely deserves her own cinematic close-up. This one’s a start, but perhaps there’s a star-driven narrative feature to be had that can more richly bring her striking story to life.

Had Baudelaire knocked out 20 or so minutes and leaned less into the vérité of it all, he might have had something more special — and less patience-testing.

"Mustangs,” which was shot in California, Wyoming, Texas, Colorado and elsewhere, is a lovely, essential portrait that’s also a little dull. It sometimes feels more like a promotional film than penetrating documentary.

This is a compelling and inspiring portrait of a singular life journey.