Joe Neumaier

Writer-director Hannah Fidell’s somber drama of an illicit romance earns credit for being a serious discussion of a tabloid-rich topic, but the movie runs out of places to go.

This frisky late-’50s-set French comedy about a competitive typing contest hunts and pecks a bit for fun after its story gets rolling, but it’s visually vibrant throughout.

Evil babies aren’t exactly fresh meat for parody. Then again, there’s hardly a laugh in this whole hellish thing.

Though Fontaine makes sure the beaches are sun-dappled and the women’s shared house comes off like a sandy paradise, the movie is like the early-’80s groaner “Summer Lovers” with wrinkle lines. Hooray for the freedom and beauty of older women — a demographic that deserves better than the deplorable Adore.

Only DeWitt looks at home, but Shelton allows “Touchy Feely” to be so wishy-washy that we can never get a hold of the star, or the movie.

Any urgency the movie has comes from co-star Terrence Howard, a firebrand of an actor who can’t be contained by a paint-by-numbers script.

The story feels like quicksand. Riddick, which couldn’t even qualify for proper summer movie placement, moves like Martian molasses and can’t present an action scene to save its life. You’ll wish you had Uncle Martin’s ability to speed people — not to mention awful movies — up.

With no heat at all and a woefully disjointed cast, De Palma’s danse macabre never catches fire.

The Lifeguard is one of those deceptive movies that, to its credit, winds up being about more than just an easy-to-describe tagline. In this case, that line would be: “Woman goes back to hometown, sleeps with high school boy.”

What Getaway needed most is enough juice to get to the finish line, narratively speaking. Because while jumping into the car is great, the fun dies fast if there’s nowhere to go.

Pieced together, these behind-the-scenes moments are a thrill for history buffs. From the moon landing to the resignations, this is raw Nixon.

You’ll never buy an inexpensive T-shirt without feeling guilty again. At least not after seeing Nathaniel Thomas McGill and Vincent Vittorio’s thorough documentary, which explains something you already know — American manufacturing is dying.

There’s social commentary in all of this, but it takes a back seat to a surprisingly compelling narrative of the two combating teams.

The big twist to Closed Circuit is stated in the film’s TV ads, so even the element of surprise is lost. There may have been the making of a juicy, episodes-long BBC series here, but as it is, there’s barely any juice at all.

What’s more depressing: that John Cusack chose the junky, un-exciting serial killer drama The Frozen Ground as his latest step away from John Cusack-y roles, or that Nicolas Cage chose to, at long last, be as un-Cage-like as possible?

Short Term 12 wraps up with one of the most touchingly memorable last moments of any film this year. Despite a title that’s hard to recall, this brief but resonant movie sticks with you.

Wong’s visual grandeur is, as ever, all-encompassing.

Combining the dysfunctional family reunion and the home invasion thriller, You’re Next tries, somewhat valiantly, to add new twists to the usual bloody horror-flick shenanigans. But aside from a few fresh chords, it’s same-old, same-old.

Drinking Buddies is full of relatable dilemmas, guileless moments of kindness and character-based humor.

This full, footage-rich documentary shows respect for the social, legal, political, religious and pugilistic battles of the former Cassius Clay.

The missed opportunities in Austenland are more numerous than dowry-less sourpusses at a ball in a Jane Austen novel.

A colorful account of the life and art of the recently retired Drew Struzan, whose amazing poster work from the 1970s onward still delights cineastes and casual observers.

Watching Ushio Shinohara and his wife Noriko make their art, we’re reminded of how much life is inside even the most abstract of pieces.

This contemplative drama draws strength from day-to-day ordinariness and a terrific lead performance from Paul Eenhoorn, yet sadly falls short.

Entertaining and smart, with a great, career 2.0 performance from Ashton Kutcher.

The shadow of Terrence Malick falls hard across this Texas crime drama, a beautiful-looking prose poem that starts strong but winds up with nowhere to go.

A singularly full-hearted and moving film.

The meta-satire hits you over the head until not just your Spidey sense is tingling.