Mike Scott

Once it gets going, it boasts a steady intensity and unflagging momentum. That's complemented by a pervasive creepiness that can be counted on to keep audiences laughing nervously through their fear.

As glossy and well-produced as Unbroken is, it doesn't stray too terribly far from Hollywood convention. In fact, its very story structure is so traditional that it's mirrored by Clint Eastwood's "American Sniper."

That humor, like the film's moments of drama, tends to be measured rather than over the top -- but on the whole that's a good thing. It suggests a filmmaker who knows the value of restraint, which is a rarity, particular in a first-timer.

An uneven but consistently compelling film that, with its roots in the horrors of World War II, generated no small amount of controversy in its native Poland when it was released there in 2012.

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.

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

An amusingly meta B-movie send-up that -- largely thanks to its deadpan sensibilities -- manages to offer an entertaining riff on the zombie comedy, even if it doesn't particularly contribute anything ground-breaking to it.

I'm not sure how much of The Dirt is good, old-fashioned hyperbole. Good lord, I hope a lot of it is, although I'm sure the band -- the members of which wrote the book on which the film is based in addition to serving as co-producers -- would swear everything in it is true.

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

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.

There are movies based on real events that must be embellished in order to make them work on the big screen. Mel Gibson's World War II drama Hacksaw Ridge is not such a movie. In fact, it's the opposite.

In addition to being the rare modern romantic comedy that manages to nail both the "romantic" and the "comedy" with equal aplomb, Juliet, Naked is also a wonderful, welcome late-summer fling, the kind that can be enjoyed with no regrets and no apologies before harsh reality resumes once more.

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.

While Nourizadeh's just-for-fun head trip is no more ambitious than its long-haired pothead of a main character, it delivers on its sole goal: to entertain and to surprise.

One of the most pleasant surprises of this year's jam-packed holiday release schedule, and easily the season's must-see family film.

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.

In addition to being a fast-starting and smartly cast sports drama built around picture-perfect period flourishes, it's also a movie with an undeniably timely message to deliver.

A surprisingly embraceable courtroom drama.

Director Daniel Barnz's soft-play indie drama is a compassionate but emotionally raw film, one that traffics in such thoughtful ideas as personal redemption and emotional resurrection.

Like the character at its center, Wein's film suffers from a certain sense of inertia, which is where Gerwig comes in.

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.

It's a comfortable and tidily assembled story of human perseverance in the face of adversity. Which is yet another thing about which the Irish know a thing or two.

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.

The result is a feel-good, family-friendly trip film that promises drama, suspense, humor and -- in a rarity for sports dramas -- no small amount of modern relevance.

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.

Director Klay Hall's embraceable, overachieving romp plays nicely as a big-screen feature.

It does enough things right, and generates enough powerful moments, to make it an effective social-justice drama.

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.

Like the work of Callahan, Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far On Foot is dark, it is irreverent, it is often willfully offensive. But there's also an admirable frankness at work there, an honestly that helps keep things rolling forward -- even when its own wheels occasionally get stuck in the sand.

It's not a film for everyone. Those who see it, however, will have trouble forgetting it.

The ultimate goal of a film like this, of course, is to change minds. As compelling a case as it builds, Promised Land isn't quite persuasive enough to be able to promise to do that.

The joy of Hysteria, like the joy of certain other things, isn't necessarily rooted in the element of surprise. Rather, it's in the pleasure of the path taken to get to that crescendo.

So does the film succeed, overall? On some levels. But if all you want is a guilt-free, sci-fi summer pleasure, save your money and wait another week. The crew of the Enterprise is on its way.

Some summer movies are big, woofing mastiffs. (Think "Battleship.") Others are naughty, nipping lapdogs. ("The Dictator.") Here, what we get is a calm, quiet basset hound. And, for the most part, it's a good dog.

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.

An enchantment, plain and simple. And while it won't make many forget Disney's iconic animated version, it certainly joins it as one of the more enjoyable re-tellings of this classic tale.

That's a lot of storytelling going on, and it costs Battle of the Five Armies a certain cohesion.

It's a good, old-fashioned sit-around-the-campfire ghost story, one that delivers on its sole reason for existence: to raise the hairs on the back of your arms.

As an unapologetic genre exercise, it's also fairly harmless, painless stuff. Thanks largely to the work of its cast, which does more with Tracy Oliver and director Tina Gordon's decidedly uneven, underdeveloped script than anybody has a right to hope for, Little ends up being mostly enjoyable in its own lightweight, empty-calorie and entirely unexpected way.

An enjoyable diversion, a lightweight bit of philosophizing that blends humor with the bittersweet. It won't likely stick in your memory for too terribly long.

There are plenty of entertaining moments to latch onto beneath the sci-fi tropes -- and maybe even a few that will inspire a new generation of storytellers.

Granted, there's comfort to be found in the familiarity of Mendes' film, which makes an effort to look back while also advancing the series. But there's a fine line between paying homage to the past and merely repeating it.... Spectre often crosses that line.

His (Andrew Dominik) film delivers when it matters, especially with its crystallizing final lines. Not only do they wrap a bow on what ends up being a treatise on the uglier side of capitalism, but they stand among the most memorable closing lines in recent Hollywood history.

Suffers through the occasional lull, but those would be much easier to forgive if they didn't also generate frequent false moments that threaten to take viewers out of the movie.

It aims to entertain, to offer a few tame chuckles for parents and children to enjoy in a purely Saturday-morning way. And it accomplishes that.

Aja's film ends up being an fairly satisfying Halloween diversion, using those magical horns to overcome its flaws and transform itself into a decidedly dark, but weirdly sweet, ride.

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

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.

This is a movie that -- in addition to being exceedingly well-cast and surprisingly well-shot -- is gleefully inappropriate and indulgently crass at every turn.

Enchanting enough to cast a spell over fans, of Jolie, of Disney, of "Sleeping Beauty" -- and of pure, cinematic escapism.

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.

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.

There's something haunting going on in The Notebook -- in the story, in the performances, in the overall atmosphere -- that makes it hard to look away from, and equally hard to forget.

Amusing as it often is, it's all also fairly predictable stuff. If there's one thing Arteta's script is missing, it's imagination.

If Split does one thing, it's to show that "The Visit" wasn't a fluke. If it does another thing, it's to make me intrigued to see what he has in store for us next.

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

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.

That storytelling, however, is uneven, ranging from something approaching tedium to moments that are downright wonderful (such as the sweetest of scenes, involving two young lovers -- played by and Alicia Vikander and Domhnall Gleeson -- and a stack of children's blocks).

And so the real question isn't whether director Todd Phillips' third -- and, he insists, the final -- installment in the unabashedly crude, very R-rated comedy trilogy is funny. Of course, it is.

Director Robert Rodriguez and his crew do a magnificent job of world-creating, thanks to impressive technical wizardry. Actress Rosa Salazar also brings the lead character to life with sweet (though lethal) charm...It struggles under the weight of the rangy, multi-pronged narrative before effectively cheating moviegoers by leaving them with a cliffhanger ending.

An admirably full portrait of a film that reflects, with thrilling discomfort, the darker recesses of our minds.

While you're watching it, it is cozy and enjoyable, the same way a sleeping cat in your lap is cozy and enjoyable.

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

The sort of movie you should go see with someone you love. You should also hold their hand during the movie. And be thankful that that hand is there.

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.

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.

The pieces click together nicely in what ends up being an overall enjoyable package.

Furious 7, formulaic or not, knows exactly what kind of movie it is. It is a superhero movie without the tights. It is a comic-book franchise without the radioactive spider bite. It is, plain and simple, an automotive "Avengers."

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.

An Unexpected Journey also proves that it is, indeed, possible to get too much of a good thing.