Marc Mohan

As I sat slavishly (and needlessly) through the entire end credit roll, it was hard to muster anything more fervent than "Yeah, it was pretty good." Even a clean, white hate would have somehow been more satisfying.

For at least three-fourths of its running time, The Concert is predictable, soft-edged and unremarkable. Then the titular performance, of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, begins, and the music elicits the emotional response the rest of the film has been striving for the whole time. It's enough to almost make the whole thing worthwhile.

Blood Ties not only convincingly recreates its era, it seems like it could have been made then.

In Morvern Callar, the subject matter may be morbid and unappealing, but the director handles it with a visual poetry and an eye for hidden beauty that marks a filmmaker of the first order.

The real revelation is Lou Ferrigno, in his first non-Hulk-related big-screen role since 2002. OK, so he plays himself.

Mostly it's about taxes -- namely, the argument that the Federal Income Tax, enacted in 1913, is unconstitutional and has been ruled as such by the Supreme Court, and that no law exists today requiring Americans to pay it.

Moncrieff's story remains fresh despite the familiarity of its general outline. This is mostly due to the skilled performances she elicits; even when the unfolding events have been seen many times before, watching human beings react realistically never gets old.

Director Jan Hrebejk and screenwriter Petr Jarchovsky ("Divided We Fall," "Up and Down") have crafted another well-observed tale, one with no heroes or villains, just people trying to make something of the situations in which they find themselves. And, with a nicely ambiguous ending, it's drama enough.

Generally, thanks to solid performances and very nice cinematography, it hits, if not a home run, at least a solid double (or the British equivalent).

The last time Jane Fonda acted in a French-language film, it was Jean-Luc Godard's radical 1972 effort "Tout Va Bien." It's fitting, then, that she fluently plays Jeanne, one of five aging leftists in this slight, but never frivolous, tale.

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.

Solid summer entertainment set in a recognizably real world.

A distancing cynicism has been slathered over the story's maudlin core, with the hope perhaps that between these two conventional extremes resides a genuine emotional truth. That may be the case, but "Wilbur" doesn't quite get to it.

Among the Dardennes' more accessible films, despite a drawn-out finale that still doesn't quite satisfy.

This is more Errol Morris' or Truman Capote's territory than Herzog's, and his patient, determinedly respectful interviews with members of the American underclass bear a whiff of European condescension.

Director Guillaume Canet, who previously teamed with Cluzet on the excellent thriller "Tell No One," capably handles the sprawling cast.

Loses something when it depends on its computer-generated creatures to carry the story. The effects are a mile above the previous Hulk film, but there's still a certain awkwardness to some movements, and an odd lack of definition to the massive muscles that makes them seem like gelatinous sacks of meat.

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.

They also, with brilliant simplicity, point to the possibility of these actions being taken for real.

At times the movie feels like two Very Special Episodes of "Law & Order: SVU" stitched together, but on balance it's a smart, well-cast piece of grown-up entertainment.

British-born director Justin Chadwick might not seem the most logical choice to bring Mandela’s life to the screen, but he handles the historical sweep and the intimate moments with equal steadiness.

It's a fantastic high concept to wrap the film around, and Gervais comes close to fulfilling its potential, especially when he tells a comforting deathbed lie to his dying mother and accidentally invents religion.

Wrong never feels dangerous or truly challenging, content generally to amuse rather than amaze.

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.

Ignorance is bliss, maybe. If you don't know (and the film doesn't tell you, though the press notes do) that Diplomacy plays fast and loose with the known facts, it's a thrilling, even moving drama. But learning the truth gives an unpleasant aftertaste to a movie that's otherwise a solid piece of work.

With solid performances, competent direction and artfully drab cinematography, the film would be indistinguishable from a Hollywood thriller if not for the Flemish dialogue. It's no surprise to learn that an American remake is in the works.

The style and subject matter recall the films of the Dardenne brothers, ("The Kid With a Bike") and while Sister never reaches the heights of their best work, it earns the comparison.

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