Mike Scott

It's also a touch tedious at times, as it's not always clear where Oppenheimer is going.

Even a flawed Spike Jonze film is a thing of beauty in its own way, and even the uneven but admirable Her is a journey well worth taking.

Two Days, One Night offers a look into the lives of the everyday workers of the world -- the ones for whom a thousand-euro bonus (about $1,100 U.S.) can solve a heck of a lot of problems.

If viewed as a literal narrative, the post-war German drama Phoenix, with its implausibilities and contrivances, works only so well. If viewed as an allegory, on the other hand, it ends up as something else entirely -- something intriguing, complex and altogether moving.

Even with that pedigree, Ponsoldt's film doesn't snap and sizzle as much as it just lays there, leaving moviegoers who haven't been converted to the Wallace cult to long for the end of this particular "Tour."

The only thing missing from the film -- which is frequently amusing but too bleak to be consistently laugh-out-loud funny -- is a genuine connection with its audiences, or at least those audiences not raised in 1960s Jewish suburbia.

A mess of a gay best friend, played brilliantly by Richard E. Grant in what is easily one of the year’s most enjoyable supporting performances. He steals every scene he’s in, injecting the film with a needed dose of lovability that carries it through its narrative lulls.

At some point, Lee as a storyteller must step in to move things along, to dig the rudder deep into the narrative waters and steer this ship. The destination is almost irrelevant - just steer it somewhere.

What we get is a an intriguing relationship drama, one that is at times darkly funny, at others thought-provoking, but mostly piano-wire tense.

Like the rest of the film, it's has its laughs and it has its emotion, just not enough of either.

Granted, it takes a while to get to that point. Nearly an hour, in fact. That's owed to Zvyagintsev's penchant for long, lingering shots, which emphasizes mood over kinetic energy, and which also at times creates a drag on the narrative. That mood, however -- tragic, hopeless, heartbreaking -- is expertly created.

What Anderson's talky and willfully opaque film doesn't have, however, is an unfailingly compelling story to tell.

This is a film your preschooler will sit through, and attentively. Better yet, parents who appreciate the artistry of a well-made animated film also stand to be swept up in what is a delightful little tale.

Admittedly, I'm in the minority here, with many other critics swooning over First Reformed and the big questions it raises. Regardless, the biggest question I had after watching it was simple: What the hell did I just witness?

It's the same fine line that so often separates artfulness and "trying too hard" -- a line that Lebanon tramples all over.

These characters are so compelling that their stories are easy to get caught up in. As with "A Separation," Farhadi's drama never strikes a resoundingly false note -- which is a precious thing in movies lately -- and as such is a film that promises moving rewards.

The resulting slowdown, as well as a significant narrative shift, gives Looper a slightly sprawling and ungrounded feel at times, almost as if the first and second halves are two separate movies.

Hitchcock purists will certainly take issue with some details, but Gervasi's film shouldn't be taken as an ironclad factual film docudrama. Rather, it is fact-inspired fiction -- a film based on real events but one that isn't shy about taking creative liberties. As long as viewers keep that in mind, Gervasi's stands to be a nice bit of murderous fun.

Does The Wind Rises represent Miyazaki at the top of his game? No, not really. But it could be Miyazaki at the end of the game, and that alone is reason enough to appreciate the film for the things it offers rather than hammer it too hard for the things it lacks.

It’s a movie with the sort of resonance, thoughtfulness and universality that audiences of all descriptions will enjoy — and, more importantly, connect with.

While Pina will undoubtedly be well-received by modern-dance devotees, it does little to take advantage of the enormous opportunity to open the door for newcomers.

A fast-moving, fascinating and at times even fun documentary residing squarely at the intersection of sports, geopolitics and history.

Sometimes the nuts-and-bolts of the story threaten to snag, most often on conversations about the very specific details of Locke's largely humdrum job. It's those moments in particular that keep Locke from ever quite shaking the feeling that it's a gimmick film.

This is a movie that confuses teary with sweet. Mopey with sad. Discomfort with humor. And, worst of all, it confuses weird with odd.

Love is Strange doesn't really have any sort of sense of urgency about it. To the contrary, it feels rather mundane, as their problems -- while both unfortunate and unfair -- feel relatively small when put in perspective.

This is the sort of movie that Charles Bronson would have made back in the day, and indeed a shot of Johnson standing in a sporting goods store, contemplating a wall of shotguns as he gets ready to get busy, could have come from any "Death Wish."

Many scenes, like Another Year itself, don't actually go anywhere.

Bridge of Spies, with its stop-and-go momentum, is also more merely interesting than it is full-on riveting. It's still quite good stuff, but despite its impressive pedigree... it doesn't feel as if it's quite the sum of all of its parts.

Foxcatcher isn't a film many viewers will clamor to rewatch. It's too chilly a film for that. At the same time, it's one that will suck them in -- and it will hold them while they're there.

This is what makes Anderson's film so infuriating. It's so damned irresistible -- until it becomes so damned insufferable, getting lost in a marijuana fog of poorly explained plot developments and indecipherable twists. Still, it's hard to look away for fear of missing some other equally inspired flourish.

You'd think that a movie about such a dynamic moment and such a vibrant ad campaign would be more dynamic and vibrant.

Few of the characters feel fully fleshed out. McKay's Big Short also lacks a certain nuance in its third act, when McKay's agenda becomes abundantly, ham-handedly clear. Still, it's hard not to be outraged by what is learned.

The sky is far from falling on the Bond franchise. In fact, it is as good as it has ever been. What's more, Craig is reportedly on board for at least two more outings, so Q had better get to work on those bifocals because 007 is no where near ready for retirement.

While those flaws might conspire to keep A Fantastic Woman from being unassailably fantastic as a whole, there's no denying that it is fantastically timely, and touching to boot.

This is not a feel-good movie. This is the frigid, hard-to-embrace cinematic opposite of a feel-good movie, in fact -- all wrapped in one long, dark metaphor for depression.

Starred Up isn't just violence for violence's sake. Rather, it is a surprisingly layered, hard-hitting human drama, one that cuts to the bone -- albeit with a homemade prison knife.

Also helping to sell it all is the fact that these films, goofy though they may be, feature a consistently high level of acting. In addition to Pegg, we get Martin Freeman ("The Hobbit"), Paddy Considine ("Red Riding"), Eddie Marsan ("Sherlock Holmes") and Bill Nighy ("Love Actually"), all of whom have appeared previously in the trilogy.

That's some admirably mature stuff for a kid's flick in this day of rampant pandering, but it also helps rob the film of a certain breathless, edge-of-your-seat appeal. In other words, there are lulls here.

The result is a satisfyingly gritty tale, more grounded in reality than many entries in the franchise.

It also includes the elucidating, offering a rare glimpse at the architecture of Spinney's elaborate Big Bird costume.

A freshly drawn slice-of-life drama inspired by Perrier’s own real-life experiences as an online “cam girl,” it deals with decidedly uncomfortable subject matter — the introduction of a 19-year-old young woman into sex work — but it doesn’t approach any of it with judgment or shame.

As it is, it's little more than an artful rehash -- which means that anyone who wants closure to the story, or to see justice truly served, will have to wait a little longer.

A Most Violent Year harks back to the cinema tradition of the 1970s, with its deliberate pace, its simmering tension, its gritty cynicism and its central moral dilemma. At the same time, it has something to say about the way business is done in 2015.

To be fair, del Toro’s “Pinocchio” does, indeed, get a lot of things right. It’s got a nice sense of humor, for example. It is ambitious. It has heart. Where it falters, however, is in its near-total absence of charm.

It's an uneven but fairly enjoyable ride, one that benefits from Statham's cool, capable presence.

A rewarding, moving and satisfyingly original film.

Another feather in the cap of Saulnier, who -- now with two impressive features under his belt as director -- is emerging to become one of the more intriguing new voices in Hollywood.

If nothing else, the dramatic comedy The Last Word provides one thing: It gives Shirley MacLaine a great role in which to sink her teeth. That turns out to be a gift not only to the Hollywood veteran but to audiences as well.

Enough Said isn't without the occasional minor formulaic element or the odd narrative contrivance here and there (starting, it must be said, with its very setup). It is, after all, a romantic comedy.

Precious is painful, it is harrowing, it is emotionally exhausting. It is also a singular film, one that is as difficult to compare to another as it is to forget.

Any character study must also bring us, and its main character, on a journey. And that's where Gloria Bell, for all of its assets -- and for all of the critical acclaim being heaped upon it -- ultimately stumbles.

It's that end -- the film's final sobering five minutes -- in which Blue Jasmine is at its most effective. Credit is due there to Blanchett's table-setting performance in it and in the hour and half preceding it. It's also due to the courage Allen displays as a storyteller in ending this particular story in the way it has to end.

Doesn't rise as much as it flounders and frustrates, in what would appear to be a case of a filmmaker prioritizing ego over efficiency, and engaging in generally muddled storytelling.

It's a theme Mary Shelley brought us in "Frankenstein," which was first published in 1818. That was almost 200 years ago. And while Ex Machina replaces the stitches and neck bolts with gears and fiber-optics, it all feels an awful lot like the same story.

It's a difficult watch, with its scenes of robbery, rape, murder and assorted other personal assaults, as well as a downright agonizing portrayal of an abortion procedure. This is not a story of hope or of redemption. It is a story of cruelty and despair.

Still, as Death of a Superhero plays out, it's hard not to shake the feeling that this is ground we've trodden before.

A satisfyingly fresh take on a character we all only thought we knew well.

It works well as a just-for-fun exercise that benefits from a nice sense of rhythm, a great cast and an overall sense of light-heartedness.

Ryan Reynolds and Ben Mendelsohn, and their casting in the lead roles pays off in spades. In fact, they're the primary reasons Mississippi Grind works as well as it does.

Tempting though it might be, it’s not fair to say Ritchie’s film gets lost in translation. But by the same token, when it’s all over, it doesn’t quite feel as if it has entirely lived up to its covenant with audiences.

But even if moviegoers' eyes will roll from time to time, Aftermath is so nicely acted, and so handsomely shot, that those eyes won't likely look away.

Baumbach, however -- while not entirely past that particular cocktail of curmudgeonly emotions -- demonstrates an ability to laugh at his own apparent age hang-ups.

There's a good reason why the true-crime film The Imposter is a documentary: If someone tried to pass off this bizarre Texas tale as fiction, nobody would believe it.

What we end up with is a sweet, feminist character study that shows off Weitz's deft hand as a writer while doubling as a perfect showcase for Tomlin.

Calvary is most assuredly not a comedy. It is a weighty, powerful drama -- albeit one with comic moments -- that dabbles in weighty, powerful themes.

Imbued as it is with a sense of discomforting truth, it is a worthwhile examination of human nature -- and one with a message well worth heeding.

This is a tragedy, not a comedy.

Not only does Franco entertainingly capture all the attendant insanity -- as written about by "The Room" co-star Greg Sestero in the 2013 book on which The Disaster Artist is based -- but he has fun with it. He also, however, takes the opportunity to dig a little deeper and find the humanity at the root of it all.

Doesn't boast enough universal meaning to make it truly sing.

Beneath all that genre eye candy, though, resides a smart and moving story that, after a somewhat slow-moving first hour, builds nicely to become an emotionally engaging drama.

The wholesomeness and embraceable spirit of Their Finest will likely strike a chord with the sort of moviegoer who is drawn to such a film. But that doesn't mean it's as good a film as it could have been.

Even when it is at its most esoteric, The Dance of Reality is always brimming with passion and a daring originality. That helps smooth over the flaws, such as its general staginess and his self-indulgent tendencies.

Not all of the stand-up scenes in Obvious Child are quite as funny. At least one is meant to be bad. Another is meant to be poignant but just ends up coming off as a touch weird and emotionally false.

An entertaining and interesting film, and one that speaks with a reasonable degree of credibility. And while that might not make it high art, it's good enough for me.

A Dangerous Method still feels as if it's based on a rather pedestrian narrative --and so, in the final analysis, Cronenberg's film bores.

Thanks to Gere -- and occasional flashes of gaudy but well-deployed visual style from Cedar -- those contrivances never threaten to overtake the rest of the film.

As ridiculous as it is, Man on a Ledge isn't a movie that requires suspension of disbelief. It requires the absolute absence of it.

Granted, it's not a movie that will stick with many viewers for any extended time after the closing credits roll. But, sort of like Pop Rocks and Coke, it's enjoyable while it does its fizzy, burbly thing.

Yes, that makes Frank weird, but it's the kind of weird I can't get enough of.

The quietly moving drama Martha Marcy May Marlene must be thought of as an "arrival" film. That is, for all that it has going for it (and, it must be said, against it), if it is remembered for anything it will be for introducing a 22-year-old newcomer named Elizabeth Olsen.

Jon S. Baird's lovingly crafted film is much more "fine" than "mess."

With all of its excess, Wolf of Wall Street might not rank up there with Scorsese's best, it sure has fun trying.

None of that is to say that Thor: The Dark World is a bad movie, necessarily. I would never speak ill of a man with a giant, magical hammer. At the same time, hammer or no hammer, it doesn't quite nail it, either.

There must also be a spark, a sense of life, a compelling reason for being. If a film doesn't have those -- which The Invisible Woman doesn't -- well, it might as well be invisible.

Spy boasts tons of the type of low-humor that fuel so many Seth Rogen and Will Ferrell frat-boy movies. The difference here is that the laughs aren't at the expense of the fat kid. By the time the closing credits roll, McCarthy's character been built up, not torn down -- and we're rooting for her, not guffawing at her.

John Wick: Chapter Two is still an exceedingly dumb guilty-pleasure film, with its high body count, shockingly bloody violence and creative comic-book carnage. But that hotel, known as The Continental, and the structure it provides the film, goes a long way to helping John Wick: Chapter 2 become its own distinct, ultraviolent thing.

Those who sit through its talky, belabored first half will be rewarded first and foremost with the finest fight scene of any "Avengers" film to date, one that doubles as a satisfyingly popcorny start to the summer season.

In fact, "restraint" is the word that best characterizes DuVernay's film. This isn't a movie filled with overt action or outbursts of melodrama.

Raya isn’t without its formulaic plot points, predictable turns or lazy dialogue. Still, on the whole, it’s a reasonably diverting family-friendly showcase for Disney’s characteristic blend of humor, heart and artistry.

The real highlight, though, is the music by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez.

Still, there's more here to like than to dislike in what ends up being a feel-good movie about a feel-bad topic, a la "Little Miss Sunshine."

It wasn't until Gibney's film was already largely shot that the truth caught up to Armstrong.

Just as importantly, though, is the tone of Melfi's film...which blends humor and emotion into the proceedings, to heartwarming effect.

It's that sort of singular imagery that ultimately rescues Lowery's film. Yes, it's a flawed movie, but it also is a downright lovely one.

As far as 'toons go, it's probably most reminiscent of Pixar's "The Incredibles," given that both are stories about superhero teams. There are also echoes of "How to Train Your Dragon" in the flying scenes, featuring little Hiro perched atop Baymax's back. But even then, Big Hero 6 still feels like its own, distinct creature.

it plays more like a drama kid’s fever dream. Overly self-aware, unfailingly melodramatic and very, very pleased with itself, it’s not half as clever — or a third as entertaining — as it seems to think it is.

Rust and Bone is somber and gritty if nothing else, a movie that takes itself very, very seriously, even as it struggles at times to find its focus.

Despite the occasional outbreak of tension, it all ends up becoming repetitive as Eye in the Sky gets bogged down in the morality of it all, spinning its wheels for long stretches.