Kimber Myers

It creeps along without providing either scares or an unsettling mood.

Utterly dull thriller Drone tries to raise ethical and moral questions about modern warfare, but the audience can only dwell on the illogical plot and unsympathetic characters — if they can engage at all.

Though Fight for Space doesn’t innovate artistically, first-time director Paul J. Hildebrandt’s documentary makes strong arguments for scientific innovation.

Urban Hymn is so carefully and lovingly made by director Michael Caton-Jones and his leads that it’s hard to begrudge the British drama its familiar premise, especially as you squint at the screen through tears.

[Pappas] and co-director and co-writer Jeremy Teicher have created a funny, sweet movie that explores the struggles of a serious athlete without alienating those whose sneakers are gathering dust in the closet.

Lady Bloodfight would be knocked out immediately if matched against classics in the genre.

The characters in The Lovers and the problems they face and struggle with feel entirely authentic, as does the magnetic chemistry between the leads.

Its humor is broad, but most of the jokes work for the intended audience — with a few even breaking through to more resistant viewers.

The Circle is a movie that has all the appearances of working – a solid director, great cast and impressive pedigree – but constantly throws errors. It’s a frustrating viewing experience with little surprise or delight to be found.

The flaws of Nola Circus aren’t limited to its outrageous and offensive approach. It’s that it never succeeds in bringing viewers onto its wavelength, which is probably a good thing for humanity’s sake.

“Spark” should earn points for originality, but it never invests in establishing its world or its characters in a way that engages viewers.

Frequently fun and generally harmless, The Outcasts doesn’t bring anything new to the teen comedy, but that’s the nice thing about the sub-genre for its viewers.

The Fate of the Furious is almost impossible not to like. It achieves exactly what it sets out to do, successfully lighting up the brain’s pleasure centers at each opportunity with a variety of tools in its arsenal.

The Ticket exists better as a parable than as a true-to-life drama.

Blue Gold: American Jeans is intermittently engaging, but its attempt to weave together the journey of vintage clothing dealer Eric Schrader with the history of the apparel ultimately falls apart.

This documentary is a lyrical exploration of both a person and the place she died in, as well as a devastating commentary on American society’s approach to mental health.

Despite the Falling Snow is ostensibly a love story set against a Cold War thriller backdrop, but it features no heat and little tension.

Aggressive and aggressively unfunny, Hollywood-set comedy Walk of Fame hates its characters and its audience — and the feeling is mutual.

Betting on Zero takes a matter-of-fact approach to its material, but it makes a convincing and sometimes emotional argument against Herbalife.

Featuring one of Bill Paxton’s final performances, Mean Dreams is a painful reminder of the actor’s great talents.

When Reinhardt’s fingers aren’t dancing across guitar strings, it has all the vitality of an educational film shown by a substitute teacher. It comes alive in those fleeting moments, but they are too infrequent to keep audiences engaged.

Like the man at its center, the film is aggressive and awkward, but there’s a sense of playfulness in how it pokes and prods at the world of independent cinema.

Catfight is the type of blackly comic film that works to alienate some viewers with its over-the-top approach and its unlikable characters. But those who enjoy its dark humor will cackle with mean-spirited delight.

It’s surprisingly intimate at times, but we leave without greater insight into its subjects’ world.

Throughout the documentary, infectious joy leaps off the screen with the same energy the color-guard teams display.

Movies with this serious a message about race are rarely fun to watch, but Peele has a perfect handle on tone, knowing just when to lean toward menacing, eerie or sharply funny and when to tip things in another direction.

Other than the enjoyably silly banter between Damon and Pascal, there are few moments that endear you to anyone on screen. The movie’s tone veers from bombastic to goofy with speed but little grace.

Unfortunately, the film doesn’t fully explore its big ideas or give its talented cast dialogue to match.

This is a saccharine science fiction romance that doesn’t actually concern itself with science fiction or romance; instead, it’s the equivalent of astronaut ice cream, lacking in substance and crumbling to bits at the slightest pressure.

With This Is Everything: Gigi Gorgeous, acclaimed filmmaker Barbara Kopple retains her signature intimacy and freedom from judgment of her subject.

It earns points for not being overly pious, but there’s little depth in its exploration of one man’s spiritual evolution.

Boasting a higher body count than its IQ, Resident Evil: The Final Chapter is violent, idiotic fun.

This documentary meanders a bit as it goes between time periods, but it’s never less than entertaining and illuminating.

There’s something fresh in Detour, but it’s buried underneath a largely unremarkable movie.

Director Gustavo Ron and co-writer Francisco Zegers fill the movie to bursting with plot, turning what might have been a delightfully airy cream puff of a film into a soggy disaster.

Animated comic book panels hint at an attempt at style, but bad camerawork captures bad performances of bad dialogue.

The Bye Bye Man just skirts so-bad-it’s-good territory, unintentionally making the audience laugh more than they gasp.

The fifth film in the series still executes creative kills; if only the same attention were paid to the rest of the movie.

With its saturated colors, swirling camerawork and aggressive techno beats, Sins of Our Youth is rarely dull, but it lacks the emotional resonance that one expects from a film with the death of a child at its heart.

This isn’t just a necessary or powerful story; it’s a well-told one.

More unity of style would have made a better final product, but Kyle’s story — coupled with vibrant cinematography from Schlanser — is strong enough to keep audiences engaged and moved throughout the brief running time.

It may lack focus in its approach to its subject, but Davis’ compelling character and powerful message keep the audience engaged.

Pretty but oh-so-dumb, Sugar Mountain is the cinematic equivalent of a himbo.

Contract to Kill looks remarkably cheap for a film whose characters wear Rolexes and take private planes. The money also wasn’t spent on the script from writer-director Keoni Waxman, which confuses a stream of expletives for wit.

Director Akan Satayev’s hacker thriller looks gorgeous, featuring locations around the world shot with crisp cinematography by Pasha Patriki. However, the script from Sanzhar Sultan is poorly structured and silly, revealing the emptiness beneath the shiny facade.

As impactful as its rarely told story might be, “Trezoros” would have been better served by a shorter running time or a more focused approach to its central story.

The fine cinematography, set design and costumes only serve as a distraction from the sparsely drawn story and uninteresting characters.

If you have an affection for puns or off-kilter humor, it’s hard not to be charmed by Asperger’s Are Us.

National Bird is powerful cinematic journalism.

Steinfeld’s performance and the script from Kelly Fremon Craig have created a young woman who feels entirely familiar, while never feeling like a retread of the other teenagers who have walked the cinematic high school halls before her.

Despite a strong effort from Naomi Watts, Shut In is more effective as a 90-minute commercial for the L.L. Bean aesthetic than as a pseudo-psychological thriller.

Beauty Bites Beast does lessen its usage of narration and animation as the film gets going, but the damage is already done. It blunts its own effectiveness by over-embellishing stories and facts that could have stood on their own.

This isn’t meant to be a polished, restrained indie drama, but its flaws don’t solely reside in writer-director Alberto’s avant-garde approach. Instead, its biggest misstep is the two central characters who are so unlikable as to be unwatchable.

The script from Billy Morrissette — featuring disappearing narration, awful characters and no humor — is largely to blame, but director Anthony Edwards makes uninspired choices throughout, such as inserting random animated characters and allowing Gina Gershon to do a cartoonish French accent in a supporting role.

Featuring footage from the last six decades, All Governments Lie is a timely, convincing documentary that will cause audiences to question what they see and read.

A Billion Lives employs a variety of experts in relaying its message, but it sometimes feels like a statistic-filled, 95-minute commercial for the vaping industry rather than a feature-length documentary.

In its final moments, Boo! A Madea Halloween delivers a moral with after-school-special levels of subtlety. A jolting switch from oft-mean-spirited humor to a message movie, this comedy is unlikely to win over any new fans, but the devoted will find comfort in the familiarity.

It’s simultaneously incredibly pleasurable and quite disturbing, owing to its chilling elements and commentary on larger issues.

Director Kijak deserves credit for constructing an engaging narrative that will have the uninitiated crossing their arms in an X in solidarity by the end.

Though its obvious message may not translate well outside its intended audience, the converted will likely be entertained by the well-produced package the moving themes are delivered in.

It’s a capably made documentary that argues its case with intelligence and compassion.

Even a talented cast can’t overcome the script from five screenwriters, whose uneven final product is surprisingly bland for all its raunchiness.

Loserville is somehow two different movies — a traditional teen comedy mixed with a message-driven drama about the dangers of bullying — without enough connective tissue linking characters or scenes to lend it cohesion.

Many viewers will find it challenging to see the substance hidden in the documentary’s over-the-top style that makes Michael Moore’s directorial stamp look subtle.

This is a gorgeously made film, put together with as much care as its subjects devote to saving the remaining varieties of seeds.

This melodrama struggles with serious post-production issues and an unnecessarily complex story, losing any of its intended impact in the process.

Kubo and the Two Strings feels like a miracle, evoking joy, surprise and wonder in its audience.

Demon is a film that improves the longer it sits with you, as various images seep into your consciousness and reappear without warning.

It flails for the heartstrings, but instead of reaching them, it only tugs at that muscle that makes you roll your eyes at its old-fashioned, melodramatic attempts at emotion.

Bad Moms could easily skate along only on its very funny, often very raunchy jokes, but it also makes a much-needed argument for the difficulties of modern motherhood and how the pressure to be perfect is damaging both mothers and their kids.

Regardless of how you define your diet, At The Fork is effective and affecting in its offering of a variety of viewpoints.

Everyone here means well and wants to make an epic war film, but it lacks a narrative strong enough to make it essential viewing for those beyond the genre’s fans.

My Love, Don’t Cross That River serves as a testament that romantic love can endure, particularly when it is nurtured by people who care deeply for one another and don’t hesitate to show that feeling with every breath.

It’s successful in its aims and will ably bring the book’s readers and romance fans both joy and tears.

For all its safe choices and standard narrative, The Idol succeeds in communicating its message that the Palestinian people deserve a voice and representation. Its most powerful images somehow aren’t shots of Muhammad’s wonderful singing; instead, it’s the reactions of the Palestinians to those performances and cheering on one of their own.

Mother’s Day is the cinematic equivalent of spilling boiling hot coffee on your mother when you bring her burnt toast for breakfast in bed.

Though it delves into a number of topics beyond fashion, it refrains from going underneath the glossy surface. It will appeal to fans of Wintour’s brand and style devotees, but it likely won’t make too many converts outside her kingdom.

There is plenty to marvel at in Tardi’s darker, alternate universe Paris, one that’s best watched with open minds and mouths agape at the incredible visual and storytelling imagination on display.

Creative Control has a lot to say, and style to spare, but stronger performances and better-drawn characters could have made its message even more effective and enjoyable.

At 127 minutes, Giannoli’s script feels overlong and a bit repetitive in its heroine’s disastrous performances. Lucien, the critic who helps propel Marguerite and her story forward, disappears for a large chunk of the film, only to randomly appear toward the end. Other than these missteps, Marguerite is worth watching with a well-earned grimace, largely for Frot’s pitch-perfect performance.

Unlike its protagonists, Touched with Fire never reaches either impressive highs or awful lows. It’s a film that is capably made in most respects, particularly in its acting and visuals, but it’s not truly successful.

Though How to Be Single marks progress from the standard genre narrative and gives Alice in particular a chance to be herself, it’s not a clean win. But I certainly had fun getting dirty with it.

This isn’t an overly sentimental story; those expecting the emotional swells of other British fare like “Pride” and “Kinky Boots” should adjust their expectations. The Lady in the Van is a more buttoned-up narrative, but it’s no less engaging thanks to Smith, Jennings, and Bennett’s script.

What’s interesting about Lamb is that it doesn’t stand in judgment of its protagonist; it neither condemns him for what are undeniably bad and illegal choices, nor does it celebrate them either. Though not always successful, this is a complicated film that should cause its audience to continue to think about its characters and the actions they take.

Crafted with exquisite care in the vein of its subject, though it occasionally feels overly precious (criticism that might be leveled at the restaurant itself by its detractors).

There’s never too much at stake for the princesses or the audience, but it makes for a fine diversion from the realities of life and history.

Save for a few inspired moments (usually at the expense of the city of Fresno), Jamie Babbit’s screwball comedy is cringe-inducing and unfunny. Everyone in front of the camera here deserves better, particular Judy Greer in a rare starring role.

Hirsh Bordo’s first film isn’t ambitious in its style or structure, but it is entirely effective at communicating its encouraging message to the audience.

It’s the first feature film for director Aleksander Bach, and he shares the blame with the pair of screenwriters. His creation is a muddled mess that is briefly lifted by some fun set pieces, but never is more impressive than a 108-minute Audi commercial.

The documentary feels more like a mystery and almost like fiction itself as it unravels the multiple layers behind Amina’s real identity. The revelation is jaw-dropping and infuriating, and the outrage only increases as each additional detail is uncovered.

The first two films faltered in their final act, and Chapter 3 experiences some of that as well, though it never achieves their heights. There are some nice scares, but a few formerly central characters are basically forgotten in favor of wrapping things up.

Despite all its flaws, it achieves its goal of making the audience laugh, even against their better judgment.

Set to a rock-and-roll soundtrack, with titles featuring the bright colors Iris adores, Maysles' documentary is energetic and vibrant. Iris is the cinematic equivalent of a party, with its titular character as its host.

Giroux’s film is a quietly moving drama that can be a little too quiet and slow at times, but it deserves credit for never jumping into melodrama.

The sequel to “Divergent” is the cinematic equivalent of the KFC Famous Bowl: a nutritionally devoid mishmash of elements and past films that somehow manages to be less than the sum of its parts once cobbled together.

Smith, Nighy, and Dench aren’t delivering audacious, reaching performances here, but there’s still plenty of charm and authenticity.

Corddry’s Lou was an enjoyable, over-the-top asshole in the first film, providing most of its humor, even while surrounded by an equally strong cast. However, here, he’s just a truly disgusting human being. Worse still, he’s not that funny.

Though the plot gets points for originality, there may be a reason why no one has told this story before: it’s ridiculous. But Take Care occasionally succeeds with funny dialogue and performances from Leslie Bibb and Thomas Sadoski.