Marc Mohan

Crimson Peak ends up feeling like a bit of make-work, a project to keep the visionary filmmaker busy until something that truly sparks his passion comes along.

The result is a hybrid of "Falling Down" and "Short Cuts" without the iconic central character of the former or the latter's clear-eyed humanism.

Manages to excavate enough universal pathos from the mundane to find something truly extraordinary in the ordinary.

It does assemble a compelling collage from the experiences of several real-life witnesses to the event and its aftermath.

The overall effect of the movie is to make you wish there were a statute of limitations on how long maladjusted adults are allowed to blame their parents before it's OK to holler, "Get over it, people!"

Director Martin Koolhoven doesn't take many narrative chances, but the somber, steely cinematography and convincing performances help to carry the day.

Director Matthew Vaughn has provided an imperfect but still wickedly hilarious take on Mark Millar's deconstruction of superhero mythos.

Some of the dwarves have nice individual moments, namely Balin (Ken Stott), Bofur (James Nesbitt), and Kili (Aidan Turner), and Gandalf gets to throw some potent magic around at Dol Guldur. But other than that (and the dragon itself), The Desolation of Smaug turns to be more of too much of a good thing.

The result is a cast of characters who are little better than automatons themselves. This wouldn't be a problem if the rest of the film were as captivating as it was surely meant to be. Instead, the Quays work overtime to make both their story line and images as obscure as possible.

Ultimately, it's an instructive and entertaining examination of both the overlooked environmental costs of everyday life and the possibilities for change.

It takes an almost bracingly explicit attitude toward issues of sexual intimacy, to the degree that just seeing this film might count as therapy for some married couples. The PG-13 rating is justified, and should be taken literally, though I can't imagine too many parents bringing their kids to this one. Talk about an awkward car ride home. 

Director Jim deSeve has done an excellent job of providing both historical and personal perspective on a topic that provokes heated emotional reactions.

First-time director Jeff Baena struggles with framing, editing, tone and casting, leading to an unimpressive entry in the ever-burgeoning zombie comedy genre.

Ultimately, the movie takes its characters, and the absurd ethical dilemma it subjects them to, far too seriously.

The Harvey Girls isn't really anything special, cinematically speaking. This run-of-the-mill Judy Garland musical is notable mostly for its Oscar-winning song, "On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe."[10 May 2002]

If you're content to let dream logic take over, a lot can be gleaned from this odd, darkly funny meditation on life, death, love and revenge.

By trying to inflate one remarkable life story into the chronicle of a generation, Daniels fills what could have been an inspirational, personal saga with a lot of hot air.

In 1960, British director Michael Powell made "Peeping Tom," the definitive exploration of voyeurism in the movies. The shocking thriller also practically ruined the career of the veteran filmmaker. Although the stalker-centric Alone With Her doesn't quite rank with Powell's masterpiece, it shows enough promise that one hopes writer/director Eric Nicholas doesn't share his fate.

The performance of Bening (and, quietly, Irons) keeps Being Julia from being too tiresome.

At its core, the story is a Mars vs. Venus case study.

As usual, the director is a wizard at camera movement and more than willing to plunge his audience into unpleasantness.

Digitally shot, the film looks great, and the performances ooze charisma. The biggest star, though, may be Kinshasa itself, a roiling, barely cohesive sea of humanity that seems as if it could serve as a backdrop for some fascinating films for years to come.

Eventually the chemistry between Collette and Church wins out, and Lucky Them makes for a diverting, if forgettable, romantic comedy.

This being an Italian film, and Gianni being such a hapless, kindhearted aspiring Lothario, make this perhaps the sweetest movie ever made about a guy trying to cheat on his wife.

Collette proves herself worthy of carrying a movie with a performance that runs the gamut of human emotion without striking one false note.

Whereas Carver writes about alcoholics, this movie is about alcoholism, which is completely different.

Paradise: Love, the first in a thematic trilogy, is a sad story about the difficulty individuals face when trying to establish relationships across vast cultural and economic gulfs.

This final act goes on far too long and devolves into such a miasma of pap that it's clear Stoller had no idea how to wrap things up.

Despite the mysteries of the plot, a sitcom-style sense of expectation creeps into Saving Face, which sometimes feels comfortable but mostly serves to spotlight the shortcomings in a script that invents compelling characters but doesn't give them much out of the ordinary to do.

It mostly manages the impressive feat of mixing jaw-droppingly gross jokes with characters that are worth caring about.

Though its characters aren't terribly complex, and its plot holds few surprises, the screenplay (in English, German, and Hebrew) amounts to a worthy treatise on the need to forgo revenge.

The authenticity of its setting and its actors make this effort worth a look.

If Rod Serling had hired Robert Altman to direct a "Twilight Zone" episode, it might have turned out something like this.

In the end, as gay people and other marginalized groups throughout history have shown, the only real solution is to learn not to be agonized or ashamed over differences, but to celebrate them with pride.

Idris Elba exudes the requisite militaristic authority as Raleigh's commanding officer, and Rinko Kikuchi is his determined partner in mecha mayhem.

The question that lies at the heart of the documentary Aristide and the Endless Revolution is whether his exile was his own idea or whether he was pressured, even kidnapped, by the United States.

Well, if Jordan believes he's made an excellent film, that's one thing, but the fact is it's a minor, though mostly enjoyable, one.

The story of Matt VanDyke, as told in the fascinating documentary Point and Shoot, is a vivid illustration of the ups and downs of reinvention.

The performances are solid, the cinematography is stunning, and the setting is intriguing. But the whole thing feels bloodless, hitting us over the head with its understatedness. Anytime a film's soundtrack features The Shins, James Taylor, and Nick Drake, you know you're in for an overly laid back time.

While the subject matter is certainly American enough, it seems possible the original had a bit more depth.

Baker's previous films "Take Out" and "Starlet" have focused on populations generally treated with disdain by mainstream society -- illegal immigrants and porn performers, respectively. With Tangerine he continues to prove that by depicting these characters in all their flaws and majesty, movies can inspire awareness of our shared humanity. And make us laugh.

Sleeping with Other People turns out to be more entertaining than it sounds. The movie, that is.

Once all the pieces of the story are assembled, the whole thing turns out to be not that big of a deal.

Weitz does it again here, turning what could have been another manifesto of liberal guilt into a genuinely moving tale of a father and son banding together in a hostile world.

Despite all this hokum, Quartet is amusing and heartwarming.

There's something in this nostalgic, lovingly photographed film about the transition from the classical art of painting to the new art of the cinema, as embodied by one of the greatest practitioners of each. The independent-minded Andrée, who would go on to marry Jean Renoir and star in several of his early films, is presented as something more than a mere muse, if something less than a full-fledged character.

While this sort of thing can easily devolve into bourgeois comfort food, Thompson, a veteran of the genre, knows how to serve it up just about right.

Bettie Page Reveals All earns its title from more than the uncensored images it includes.

It's a fine idea, but Dominik beats that drum without cease, making his passionately furious message come across anything but softly.

David Ayer's film is a gory, muddy, downbeat tale of war's hellishness and the fraternal bond between those stuck in the middle of it. It's also, like "Ryan," full of tense, grippingly staged action scenes that capture moments of pure adrenaline, and it's the tension between those two impulses that makes "Fury" fascinating and ultimately flawed.

A fresh look at the first chapters in the monarch's life, while maintaining historical fidelity.

Despite the accumulated facts, the lack of any commentators outside Kushner's circle of family and admirers and the refusal, in fact, to wrestle with the thornier questions of identity and criticism make this a worthwhile but imperfect film.

There have been plenty of mountaineering documentaries over the last few years, and Everest suffers in comparison to them simply by being a dramatization. As realistic as the effects are (and you can occasionally tell when a shot is green-screened), you're still aware on a gut level that Jason Clarke and Josh Brolin were not actually filmed at 29,000 feet above sea level.

What makes Freedom Writers work is the very thing that makes it seem like a drag: predictable inspiration.

For those to whom life is but a stage, this will be sweet, sweet candy; to those of us destined to be their audience, it's a satisfying, if flawed, look behind the curtain.

Every generation gets the cinematic vampires it deserves...The current decade, judging from the bloodsuckers on display in Twilight, will be remembered as one of guilt, restraint and denial. It's just not that fun to be undead anymore.

It's the kind of story that can look pedestrian on paper, but when brought to life this skillfully, proves to be genuinely inspiring.

van Dormael’s vivid visual sense and genuine curiosity about the nature of love and life, time and death, make it well worth surrendering to his imagination for a while.

Like last year’s vaguely similar “Killing Them Softly,” “Furnace” reeks of '70s-inspired, downbeat, politically conscious genre filmmaking. And its cast is composed of hard-working, seemingly omnipresent actors who understand what Cooper’s after.

Made with a slapdash non-style that doesn't seem quite lame enough to have been intentional, this aptly titled low-budget horror comedy serves up tame amounts of both guts and gut-busters.

Whatever the interpretation, Stoppard and Wright have demonstrated that Anna's saga has lost none of its power.

It offers a rare look at the everyday life of a spiritual leader, so that even if Yeshi's dilemma never seems that urgent or vital, My Reincarnation remains a compelling, universal film.

Fleck and Boden point out the absurd humor inherent in mental illness without trivializing its causes or consequences. This is not an easy trick, and it's largely thanks to Galifianakis' amalgam of wackiness and awkward sorrow that it works.

The cinematic technique of director Tom Hooper tries to replicate the appeal which has drawn millions to stage performances, but comes up more than a little short. This version of Les Misérables simply doesn't sing.

The Summit does an amazing job of putting you on the mountain, making it one of the most terrifying horror films a climber or an acrophobe could ever see.

Israeli director Ari Forman, whose 2009 "Waltz with Bashir" earned a Best Foreign Film Oscar nomination, is a master at exploiting diverse animated styles, and draws a brave starring performance from a performer who, in her mid-40s, seems to be just hitting her stride.

Well-intentioned but overblown environmental agitprop.

It's a pleasure, so soon after seeing Franco's recent bewildered performance in "Oz the Great and Powerful," to watch him tackle this menacing yet beguiling character.

A fascinating experiment in both filmmaking technology and narrative style, but one that can be counted a success only in limited ways.

World War Z manages to be scary without descending to in-your-face gore -- it wants to frighten its audience, not disgust them.

Laggies doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it puts an engaging spin on the old canard about high school being the best years of our lives.

Nothing more and nothing less than a savvy and talented cast having its way with a clever, hilarious script, with absolutely no weighty issues at stake.

Papale's story is more than any fan could dream of, which is why it's frustrating that Invincible feels the need to embellish it. While mentioning he never played football in college, the film ignores that he did play in a semipro league prior to his Eagles tryout.

The cinematography is crisp but sterile, and no one's clothes ever seem to get muddy or torn -- in short, there's no real sense of the atmosphere of a sticky, buggy, fetid jungle, and no intensity to a story that cries out for a sense of moral outrage.

Ultimately, ATL is the same old teenager angst in a mildly novel package.

It's solidly entertaining, with Downey's roguish charm as appealing as ever.

Armed with a cliche-ridden script and a gaggle of unconvincing performers, the result comes off more like an Ernest Hemingway letter to the Penthouse Forum than a revival of Hollywood magic.

Spike Lee wanted for years to make a Jackie Robinson film, and I hope he still gets his chance. Another take, maybe angrier or more polemic, could be fascinating, and the heroism of Jackie Robinson was significant enough to justify more than a few movies.

A mordant, almost-too-dark comedy, but a comedy nonetheless.

The worry regarding 2014's Godzilla was that it would seem like a retread of recent big-budget monster mashes "Cloverfield" or "Pacific Rim," or, worse yet, that it would sink to the depths of the 1998 American reboot. Happily, though, this one can stand on its own two enormous three-toed feet.

For most of its running time, it's a riveting rendition of a stranger-than-fiction tale.

The subtle menace of the would-be geneticist of the Master Race mingles with ordinary pre-teen foreboding to create a riveting cocktail of unease.

Ultimately, though, it's unfortunate that the movie tries to make so many oblique comparisons to more modern tragedy (paparazzi with sketchbooks; yes, we get it!), since Georgiana's life seems fascinating enough on its own.

The documentary's soundtrack is composed entirely of Source Family music, and some of it's not half bad.

It's not a bad movie, but Big Eyes might have been better off if it had sold its audience the same bill of goods Walter Keane sold America.

Unfortunately, the precision and presence Hurt brings to the table aren't enough to carry this warmed-over Southern melodrama.

It's just a shame that the search for the missing formula ends up feeling so formulaic.

The sort of movie that makes you feel like a heel for not liking it: Independently made and heartfelt, it also happens to have been shot in Portland. Nonetheless, the accumulation of cliches big and small manage to erase whatever goodwill its other features have engendered.

The longer it goes on, the more you're swept up into the jet stream of good feeling.

With a deft touch that veers from wry, absurd humor to appalled outrage, the Italian journalist and satirist Pierfrancesco Diliberto makes a noteworthy film debut with The Mafia Kills Only in the Summer.

A compelling examination of a complex topic.

While In Bloom offers an authentic slice of life from a particular time and place, it never gets close enough to its characters, physically or emotionally, to really hit home.

Graham is the most affecting character by far, having returned to India for the first time in 40 years to track down an old lover. His story unfolds in surprising, deftly handled ways, and could easily have justified a film of its own.

If your tolerance for envelope-pushing crudeness and deadpan delirium allows it, this crass comedy might be just what the gastroenterologist ordered.

What Johansson does in Lucy won't win her any prizes, but it establishes her ability to carry a movie that has some ideas, however half-baked, and has nothing to do with her obvious sex appeal.

The movie's centerpiece and peak is the operation itself, which Reichardt depicts with the pulse-pounding patience of a classic heist sequence like that in "Rififi."

In spite of its familiar outlines, director Rob Meyer's first feature benefits from an authentic script and performances.

At its more abstract moments, it's a treat for the eye and the soul.