Kerry Lengel

One can forgive the trying-too-hard aphorisms -- "You don't choose a life ... you live one" -- but savvy cinephiles are sure to be annoyed by Tyler Bates' hypnotic ambient-folk soundtrack, studded with such despoiled musical gems as Nick Drake's "Pink Moon" and the Shins' "New Slang."

The narrative feels undercooked, its life lessons just a bit too glib.

Arlo & Julie is a comedy, a mystery and a romance rolled together, yet it barely adds up to one movie.

There's no question it looks fantastic...As for the story, well, much like the original Frankenstein's monster, it is a haphazard assemblage of well-aged source materials jolted back to life with new technology, but it isn't quite as sophisticated as one might hope.

Genisys is more entertaining than the last two installments, although it's not nearly as good as the first two.

Under the Electric Sky is a bedazzled (if not quite dazzling) 3D documentary.

Despite the silly-sounding premise, it's a wistful, bittersweet meditation on aging and death.

With “Maleficent’s” feminist message suffering a relapse, the sequel looks more like generic film fantasy than a fresh take on an old story. The cuddly creatures and razzle-dazzle action are enough to make two hours disappear, but it’s only Jolie’s bat-winged charisma that will rattle on in your memory.

In the movie version at least, efforts to render the hero larger than life result in a story that is less than convincing.

The final resolution of the plot is actually rather intriguing, but the journey to it is so slow and predictable that most moviegoers will have long since lost interest.

Like all faith-based films, it’s preaching to the choir. But as cinematic sins go, Hollywood regularly commits worse.

The Cobbler definitely won't please the audience for Sandler's mainstream blockbusters, and it's unlikely to win him new fans among the indie intelligentsia, either.

This well-intentioned buddy-road-trip flick lacks the danger, the drama and the sex appeal that most moviegoers will be looking for.

It’s formulaic. It’s predictable.

There’s a fine line between homage and rip-off, between a clever mashup and a messy pileup of tired tropes. But, much like a rainbow, where that line appears is in the eye of the beholder.

The Minions themselves aren't as endearing as they are in the previous movies, maybe because there are fewer of them bumbling around, or maybe because they just haven't found their true supervillain love yet. Or maybe some sidekicks, no matter how loveable, just aren't cartoon-hero material

In The Internet's Own Boy, writer-director Brian Knappenberger ("We Are Legion: The Story of the Hacktivists") paints a portrait of Swartz as a martyr for the information age, but ultimately the story falls short of such mythic ambition.

While the actors certainly have charm, the farcical plot is so formulaic that the comic fizz often feels forced.

Guilt, grief and the struggle to move on are big themes, but unfortunately, director Burr Steers and his script writers aren't interested in exploring them.

There's a great film hiding somewhere in the wreckage of "Love Ranch."

If it weren’t for his voice, Kutcher would have been the ideal choice to star in Jobs, a well-meant but ultimately unsurprising biopic.

It delivers plenty of exciting action with some CGI-assisted visual flair, from stampeding bison to a starkly beautiful image of a frozen lake with our hero flailing on the wrong side of the ice. Hughes’ efforts to bring emotional drama to the proceedings fall flat, however, relying on coming-of-age clichés that strip the story of any real surprise.

Not that inarticulate characters can't be compelling if they are written with subtlety, acted with insight and, most of all, framed by a directorial vision, but Hellion, despite a promising debut from Wiggins, falls short in at least two of the above.

It is the cinematic equivalent of a greeting card: Both the sentiment and the laughs are plentiful, cheap and forgettable.

This brand of gonzo journalism was effective in Moore’s 1989 debut about Flint and General Motors, “Roger & Me,” but it has long since devolved into self-parody.

Not that there’s anything wrong with raunch. But in the Judd Apatow era of raunch-coms, Anders’ version is pretty weak tea.

Unfortunately, while the swami taught his disciples to explore the depths of their very souls, the film barely scratches the surface of his life and teachings.

Among the many historical documentaries on Israel there are to choose from, this one is tantamount to two hours of footnotes.