Kerry Lengel

Abe’s performance is compelling in the way it captures the gap between who Ryota has become and how he wants to see himself, and Japanese screen veteran Kirin Kiki gives a terrifically nuanced turns as his again mother, pulled between the disappointments of the past and a fierce determination to find joy in her present.

Naharin’s dances, amply illustrated from decades’ worth of film, is visceral, emotional and sometimes shocking.

I can give the filmmakers — director Dito Montiel and screenwriter Adam G. Simon — the benefit of the doubt on good intentions, but their approach doesn’t tug at the heartstrings so much as it pistol-whips the audience with its grandiose and (ineptly) manipulative storytelling.

The characters are clichés and the plot is assembly-line predictable.

If you dig Hart’s stuff, you’ll probably love the movie. So go.

It’s a compelling portrait both of Bauer and of a fraught moment in German history. But from the vantage of the present, the issues — and the characters — seem pretty black and white.

The story is captivating from the very first moments.

If there is a criticism to be made, it’s that Equity is just a bit too low-key to fully draw the audience in. The chiaroscuro lighting and thrumming mood music build tension slowly and surely, but never enough to make you inch forward in your seat. Just a smidgen of Gordon Gekko bombast might kick things up a notch.

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.

It never feels contrived, never panders to our illusions. When the ending comes, it is neither expected nor a twist. It’s just what happens.

It aims to match the mythic gravitas of “The Lord of the Rings” — even throwing in a nod to the Book of Exodus for good measure — and the results fall paint-by-numbers flat.

Yes, “Popstar” is dumb, dirty fun. So what’s not to like?

Screenwriter Jon Vitti and first-time directors Fergal Reilly and Clay Kaytis certainly give it a try, but their bag of tricks is mostly recycled and their sense of humor is aimed squarely at 12-year-old boys.

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

If Keanu sometimes comes off as another sketch stretched a little thin, that doesn’t put it in too shabby of company. It may not be as great as “The Blues Brothers,” but it’s up there with “Wayne’s World” — and light-years ahead of “Coneheads.”

It’s cute and entertaining, in a Saturday morning cartoon kind of way, but this one is just for the kiddies.

The Boy and the Beast might not quite have the storytelling sophistication to win over every adult, but for teens and tweens in the midst of their own coming-of-age stories, it has the potential to be a wondrous eye-opener.

There’s never a sense the filmmakers are preaching the gospel of legalization, although they are certainly not preaching against it, either.

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

It’s an enjoyable ride, but probably not one you need to take twice.

Though there are no blazing historical insights here, the film is filled with moments of ribald humor and tender poignancy that offer glimpses into a society divided by class but united, mostly, in an outpouring of sheer, overwhelming relief.

Muscled and ruggedly un-manscaped, Stapleton is an intimidating presence based on physicality alone, but the actor ratchets up the menace factor with a gripping portrayal of a man driven by emotions more complex than mere anger.

Prophet’s Prey isn’t definitive, but it is compelling and occasionally even cinematic.

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

Despite his roots as an over-the-top stand-up comedian, Williams long ago proved himself to be one of those rare actors who can truly inhabit a role, and “Boulevard” is no exception. But that’s not always enough to keep the viewer’s eyes glued to the screen.

McQuarrie delivers a tense, eye-popping amusement-park ride that’s almost as exciting as it is forgettable.

[An] exhilarating, brutally depressing documentary.

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