Mike Scott

This isn’t your run-of-the-mill character study. It is a smartly conceived and beautifully executed meditation on the co-existing pain and pleasure, complexity and fragility of human existence.

Complemented by striking, well-conceived visuals, in Fukunaga's hands Bronte's tale of love and woe becomes one well worth repeating.

Gray Man is colorful, lively and admirably self-aware of its place in today’s cinemaverse.

The result is a documentary that is as interesting as it is irresistible.

Mr. Malcolm’s List, like “Bridgerton,” is a highly enjoyable, low-calorie bit of cinematic frippery.

Charming as it all is, don’t expect A New Era to win many awards or break box office records. But it’ll definitely hit a sweet spot for those eager to visit with these old, familiar characters once more.

A heartwarming -- and at times heartbreaking -- post-"Juno" road comedy for grownups.

But lowbrow or not, it is, like, totally tubular in its own right. To the max. Fer sure.

Not the deepest stuff, but thought-provoking all the same -- and entertaining to boot.

So what we have is a movie that will make at least two important groups happy. New Orleans boosters can cheer Green Lantern for its local roots and for the possibility that the inevitable future installments could return to town. And the purists can cheer, knowing that Campbell and crew have done Green Lantern justice.

What we end up with is a rare treat: a midbudget movie for grown-ups — no capes, no magic wands, no kid’s stuff. In other words: pure Linklater.

As a result, the slickly produced Food, Inc. is more deeply unsettling than it is out-and-out stomach-turning.

There's a certain triteness to the overarching message -- secrets will keep us apart, and the truth will set us free -- but the kind of sweetness and earnestness that's on display in City Island makes such quibbles easy to forgive.

It's great, gruesome fun, a well-written and fantastically cast romp.

Director David Yates picks up where he left off with "Order of the Phoenix," assembling a nicely paced and artfully shot adventure.

Still, it's not the iconic, be-all-end-all that Scott was certainly hoping for.

Pure cinematic fluff, the kind of film that tends to evaporate within a few hours of seeing it. That being said, Manville is so charming, and the rest of Fabian’s film is so well meaning, and so well realized, that by the time it hits its inevitable third-act moment, it’s hard not to be swept up by the joy of it all.

Unfortunately, for the bulk of the film's running time -- its first two-thirds or so -- Davis and Heilbroner oversaturate viewers with scene-setting material, describing the climate for gay men and lesbians in the 1950s and 1960s.

Slowly becomes a thoughtful and interesting deconstruction and demythologizing of American celebrity.

Anonymous starts admirably quickly, but Emmerich repeatedly forgets to look over his shoulder to see if his audience is keeping track of which stringy-haired Calvin Klein model is which.

Imagine Norman Rockwell had he been more of a realist than a nostalgist.

Lee keeps things afloat with an appealing air of levity, including a fun but restrained use of split-screen, an homage to the 1970 doc, as well as cameos by that movie's Port-O-San guy and its peace-sign-flashing nuns.

It's sadly and tenderly honest -- and so are Hansard and Irglova, as they generously and matter-of-factly open up to the camera.

No one should mistake Scott’s Napoleon as an overtly political film. It’s true ambitions are to entertain and inform, in that order.

Among them, Polanski's four-person cast boasts four Oscars and eight more nominations, so these are big-league actors who are capable of carrying a film such as this through its occasional miscalculations.

It's his film's metamorphosis into something else -- something every bit as dark, and every bit as intriguing -- that will keep viewers planted in their seats, and, at times, perched on the edges of them.

A gritty spy thriller directed by relative newcomer Daniel Espinosa, and a film that -- despite the occasional misstep -- ends up being a taut, suspense-filled ride.

The whole thing is such a rare visual treat -- such a tres magnifique cinematic spectacle -- that those flaws are easy to overlook. Jeunet's film is hard to resist.

Sprinkled throughout, there is also a handful of wonderfully amusing song-and-dance numbers, written by Bret McKenzie.

It is a thoughtful film, a serious one, and one that is sneakily affecting.

Cera exudes a geeky charm and tender vulnerability that's hard to resist -- probably because he's far easier to relate to for most of us than we'd like to admit.

The result: a fun and sweet romantic comedy that lands comfortably on the smart side of vacant, along the way offering a pleasant and satisfying holiday diversion for the grown-ups in the room.

A dramatic comedy that is light on plot but generous in spirit, a leisurely, understated film that underscores the ever-present modern guilt while -- oddly, given the weightiness of that central conceit -- boasting a satisfying buoyancy.

This is a world where training wheels are called "stabilizers" and where children leave something called "mince pies" for Santa. (Um. Ew?) As a result, the occasional line will fly over your little ones' heads. But you can also expect for them to be charmed by it all.

Being a fan of the character is not a prerequisite for enjoying the film.

In reality, in this age of cookie-cutter entertainment, the movie's success probably is because of Cody's unconventional script. This isn't a silly, disposable, rom-com -- and thank goodness for that.

It's provocative stuff, and The Yes Men approach it with a wicked sense of humor.

Admittedly, it won’t likely supplant 1971’s “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” in many people’s hearts as the definitive cinematic adaptation of Dahl’s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Still, it is a delight in its own right, a sweet, funny, colorful and suitably wondrous burst of family-friendliness.

Gets considerable gas from the fact that Bateman, Sudeikis and Day so convincingly play three idiotic pals. The real fun, though, is in the fantastic supporting cast.

A refreshingly original take on the comic book adaptation.

The result is a movie that is about as riveting as -- well, as your average Robert Novak column.

Arriving with a savage grace, director Darren Aronofsky's nightmare-come-to-life Black Swan cements his reputation not only as one of the more daring filmmakers of his generation, but also as an actor's director of the first order.

Ends up being a reasonably gripping story of political intrigue, international corruption and one woman's determined fight for justice.

A punch-drunk tale whose fitful ramble from Jerry Springer-style family seaminess to "Rocky"-like triumph is elevated enormously by knockout performances.

Brilliant in its simplicity, as he turns the floor over to the three masters with this simple instruction: The guitar. Discuss.

[Pierre] owns the role so fully that it’s hard to imagine anyone else in it.

Only one of a number of recent immigrant tales to hit theaters, but with its blend of sweet humor and topical relevance, it's one of the more compelling -- and surprising -- in some time.

Messages, metaphors and micturation aside, the journey is the thing, and in this case, “Sasquatch Sunset” is a pretty good journey — and thus a pretty good thing.

From the blow-by-blow ticktock of the efforts of Secretary of State James Baker during Bush the elder’s administration to Bill Clinton’s failed Camp David summit, they push The Human Factor into surprisingly suspenseful territory, even if we all know how it ends.

McGlynn's film clocks in at just a shade under two hours, which normally would be a little long for a documentary. In this case, the length not only is warranted but welcomed.

What it lacks in style, however, it more than makes up for in substance, as Shearer -- as smart as he is funny -- has assembled a vital and admirably accessible post-mortem on Hurricane Katrina.

As character studies go, Monica is an especially timely one, determined to contribute to the current conversation about acceptance and understanding. At the same time, beneath it all lies a more universal concept.

The movie is quietly affecting, as Rush offers a moving and rewarding yarn about the need to move on in the face of personal tragedy, and about the strength of human connections.

Boasting a rock-solid academic architecture, Bhutto is a film bursting at the seams with gravitas.

The kind of indie gem that doesn't come around nearly often enough -- and, when they do, often not enough people go to see them.

The engine that really makes Crazy Stupid Love go is the same one that has made Ficarra and Requa's films to this point so appealing: While they thrust their characters into outrageous situations, they always keep things grounded in real, relatable emotion.

There are moments when the freak-show elements of the film threaten to overpower its message, but that message is such a fascinating one -- and the debate an important one as well -- that The Elephant in the Living Room manages to overcome them.

Manages to overcome its flaws and become a charming love letter to love itself -- and a pitch-perfect V-Day date film to boot.

The whole thing is kind of comforting in a damn-the-torpedoes, laugh-at-what-scares-you-most kind of way.

If you're a mom or dad bringing your own little primates to the movie, that's a good thing.

Tony Scott pushes all the right buttons, crafting a worthy -- and in many ways, a superior -- update.

Without the fantastic performances from Gandolfini, Stewart and Leo, it wouldn't hold together nearly as well as it does.

Their story, as told by Pooley, also is a touching and quietly meaningful one, built around themes of tolerance, self-acceptance and unconditional love.

Rarely have New Orleanians looked so ugly, but given current events, rarely has a film felt so essential.

The fact that there are so many good comic bits here allowed Kasdan to assemble a great comic cast.

Heartwarming, beautifully shot and more English than a basket of fish-and-chips with a side of mushy peas, it’s an easy-to-watch, easy-to-love crowd-pleaser.

So, while “Orion and the Dark” is on one hand a fun and briskly paced fantasy-adventure, it also functions nicely as a smart, thoughtful and often trippy exploration of existential dread.

The Beaver also has a tendency to slip around as it finds its footing. But then the powerful third act comes and Foster, with Gibson's help, hits it home.

An up-tempo and upbeat concert documentary that celebrates, rather than mourns, the last hurrah of a pop-culture touchstone.

Spurlock banks on his charm and likability -- and it's that charm and likability that make The Greatest Movie Ever Sold so much fun to watch.

The result is a movie that, in its best moments, is delightful. It does lose a significant amount of steam halfway through -- likely due in part to its two hours of running time.

Rarely, however, are such stories as emotionally laden as that told in Lucy the Human Chimp, a documentary ostensibly about a science experiment but which quickly evolves into something both heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once.

It's hard to resist the pairing of such talented actors as Robert Downey Jr. and Zack Galifianakis - and they prove why here. They are funny guys, both of whom make the most of the material.

It’s a lot of things, but Master Gardener is first and foremost a Paul Schrader film, and a Paul Schrader film can usually be counted on to deliver one thing above all else: a moody story about a tough man, adrift, who is thrust into a tough situation.

Granted, nobody should expect Black Widow to unseat Spider-Man as the world’s favorite arachnid-inspired superhero. But between Shortland’s storytelling chops, the cast’s charm and Eric Pearson’s solid screenplay, this “Black Widow” has plenty of bite of its own.

As engrossing as The Young Victoria is, this isn't a movie that will stay with you very long. Mostly that's because Blunt's character does little by way of evolving.

RED is so much fun -- and its Over the Hill Gang so likeable -- that this is one of those rare cases where I wouldn't mind seeing them come out of retirement again for another romp.

Never Let Me Go isn't the kind of movie you talk about on the drive home -- it's even better. It's the kind that makes you sit quietly and think, rolling it around in your head and considering the angles.

Even though it's right there in the title, "fantastic" might be a touch hyperbolic in describing director Wes Anderson's stop-motion adaptation of Roald Dahl's The Fantastic Mr. Fox, but only by a whisker.

Aside from the “you-got-your-zombie-thriller-in-my-heist-movie” element, there’s nothing here that’s strikingly original, but Army of the Dead is still fun in its overblown, unapologetically violent way.

Before it gives itself a chance to deliver on that promise, however, it morphs into something different -- something often resembling a soap opera, just with prettier sets and less-passionate smooching.

As effective as it is, The Djinn won’t conjure up nearly as many eyeballs as Spiral, but those who watch it won’t be disappointed — although they might never look at I Dream of Jeannie the same way ever again.

Just as key to the movie's impact are its well-acted scenes of heart-wrenching emotion, although some stray perilously close to melodrama.

Oddly, though, Everyday Sunshine ends up being a mostly optimistic tale. That's because, despite it all, Fishbone is still gigging.

The Art of the Steal is activist filmmaking, but it's well-done activist filmmaking. And, given that the Barnes fight isn't quite yet over, it could also become the most most important kind of filmmaking: the kind that makes a difference.

As mesmerizing as the acting often is, Wolfe’s film is imbued with a certain staginess. Even if you didn’t know coming in that it was based on a stage play, you’d realize it fairly quickly.

It's one heck of a fun ride, a pure popcorn spectacle that doesn't require a knowledge of the Star Trek mythology to make it enjoyable.

Admirably, though, Gibney resists the temptation to climb on his soapbox to deliver some pointed political message. He gives his audience more credit than that.

An undeniable charm emerges in writer-director Azazel Jacobs' film. And so, rather than being anywhere near as smothering as it sounds, it all springs appealingly to life.

Most of all, though, there's the story itself, which was already pretty quirky -- and amazing -- even before Oscar-nominated screenwriter Thomas McCarthy ("Up") put pen to paper for director Craig Gillespe's film.

All in all, Nichols ends up with a richly drawn, and at times disturbing, portrait of one man's descent into madness.

Although they've left the city behind, the girls haven't forgotten the sex. They're still as frank as ever, as outrageous as ever, as liberated as ever.

As it turns out, though, the most troubling part of the film for me wasn't the rape scene, or the siege scene or the Southern stereotypes. Rather, it was the audience's reaction to Marsden's chilling spasms of bloody violence as he defends his home. Rather than breaking out in hives, many in the audience broke out in laughter.

It's not a perfect film, mind you. It's too long by a quarter, and actor-turned-director Charles Martin Smith ("The Untouchables") lets any sense of real structure slip away in the film's crowded third act.

Along the way, Shut Up, Little Man boasts nice technical elements. And it is, admittedly, amusing to a degree. Peter and Raymond certainly know how to turn a phrase. But things begin to wear thin about halfway through.

The Lottery Ticket doesn't hit the comedy jackpot, but it doesn't roll snake eyes, either. In my book, that's a winner.

There's plenty of melodrama, plenty of whispered intensity, plenty of dramatic pauses in his story. There also are a few bizarro -- and, in some cases, unnecessary -- detours. But when it's all said and done, there's no real call for any emotional investment on the part of his audience.

A reasonably well-made biopic, with crowd-pleasing moments, but one that -- despite that title -- isn't really about the animal.