Mike Scott

While Pitch Perfect 2 feels like it leaves much on the table, that'll be plenty good enough to give its fans something to sing about -- until the inevitable "Pitch Perfect 3."

What the Cairns brothers have created is something rare for a horror film: Not only does it get the job done without making you want to shower after it's all over, but they've created multi-dimensional characters who inhabit a believable and expansive environment. In so doing, they've also created a bloody good bit of twisted fun.

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.

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.

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).

Michelle Pfeiffer's performance brings life to a sometimes sagging script. Also, Kathy Bates is a hoot as the mother of Pfeiffer's love interest.

The result isn't just the best new romantic comedy released so far this year, but one of the best comedies, period.

Directed by someone you've never heard of and starring actors you won't be able to place, there's only one reason for a movie such as the locally shot Last Exorcism to exist: to scare the bejeezus out of you.

It's also the kind of movie that, for all of its smarts and huggability, stumbles every so often. Usually that happens when it's trying just a bit too hard to be cute, such as in its occasional surrealist, animation-assisted segments.

What we're left with is a love-it-or-hate-it film. Those determined to resist its deep-seated romanticism - or its operatic approach - will probably emerge from the theater as miserable as the film's characters. But those who are willing to give into it, and who want to take a grand cinematic voyage, stand to be greatly rewarded.

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

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.

On the one hand, there's a thrill in such experimentalism. On the other, it doesn't always deliver a fully satisfying moviegoing experience.

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.

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.

Even when Laggies strains against its contrived conceit, his (Rockwell) chemistry with Knightley goes a long way in classing up the joint and making Shelton's film feel just deep enough to pass muster.

Free Fire frequently becomes a messy blur of ricochets and one-liners. Fortunately, the cast is appealing enough -- and the characters interesting enough -- to use those one-liners to maximum effect, thus holding things together reasonably well.

Normally a reliable screenwriter, Sayles probably gives his audience too much credit with regard to its knowledge of what is one of the lesser-known chapters in America's military history. As a result, even with its modern parallels, Amigo makes for dense, slow-going viewing.

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.

In other words, Iron Man 3 -- once more delivering a satisfying combination of humor, action and dazzling set pieces -- provides everything fans of the franchise expect.

Aesthetically, Helgeland's film -- while highly polished -- is straight-forward stuff, hewing so closely to the prescribed genre conventions as to border on unimaginative.

Hit and Run achieves its chief goal: to put the pedal to the metal for some good, goofy fun, squealing the tires as often as possible along the way.

An unflinchingly ugly -- but downright mesmerizing -- tale that plumbs the depths of human immorality and, along the way, offers a dash of subtle commentary on just how far we, as a 312 million-member nuclear family, might have lost our way.

Roenning and Sandberg never dig deeply into the real, underlying motivating force behind Heyerdahl's voyage aboard the Kon-Tiki -- the name of his visually unimpressive but ultimately seaworthy raft -- other than relying on the fact that he wanted to prove his theory correct.

Every narrative twist is telegraphed, every dramatic choice is expected, every character is one-dimensional, and every scene of heightened emotion is built around tin-ear dialogue.

The sum total is a film with great music, a great story and a great vibe in general -- not to mention those Carney-crafted moments, built around joy, possibility and self-transformation. In other words: Carney has given us another pearl.

The hard, cold truth is that the hard, cold For Colored Girls is just plain difficult to fall in love with, regardless of the amount of passion Perry poured into it or how much meaning he's freighted it with.

Big Eyes is not dissimilar to the Keane paintings at its center. That is, it's by no means flawless, but there's an odd attraction there, something intriguing that draws you in and makes you want to find out if there's anything worthwhile there. You can say what you will about Keane's work, but in the case of Burton's film, these "Eyes" have it.

Black Sea gets the job done, accomplishing all that it sets out to do -- and better than most January thrillers.

It's a heck of a cast, although the hands-down scene-stealer is John C. Reilly, in a gem of a comic-relief role that, in the interest of remaining spoiler-free, is probably best undescribed here.

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

If there's a prevailing problem with director Richard Loncraine's bit of period fluff, it's that many of the characters encountered along the way are a touch too cartoonish to resonate meaningfully with audiences.

Along the way, Bleed for This rarely, if ever, surprises. Younger -- working from a script he wrote -- never feints, never dodges, never does anything unexpected. Consequently, his film never delivers anything resembling a knockout blow.

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.

Between its penchant for melodrama and an absolute lack of warmth, The Lesson isn’t the kind of film that will connect with many viewers in a way that sticks to their ribs much longer than the closing credits. Still, between the work of its expert cast and Troughton’s well-played surprises, there’s enough there to make it a sturdy-enough, diverting enough bit of blockbuster-season counterprogramming.

Easily the most enjoyable animated film of 2013 so far.

Unapologetically raw -- and very funny.

It is, in short, a fun, diverting ride — which, come to think of it, probably doesn’t really need context at all.

Perhaps the best thing about The Five-Year Engagement is that it signals a touch of maturity creeping into the House of Apatow.

It's all fairly standard rom-com stuff.

I Want You Back is sweet and enjoyable enough while it’s playing. At the same time, it’s not nearly memorable enough to earn a spot in most moviegoers’ annual Valentine’s Day rotation.

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.

The Help isn't intended to be so much a movie about the ugliness of the era than an optimistic tale of what can spring from that kind of ugliness, about the ability of people to love one another even when they're surrounded by hatred. And on that level, The Help succeeds wonderfully, a warm and sweet song of hope.

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.

An uplifting and colorful crowd-pleaser, it's built on a wealth of cinematic contrivances -- all designed to make sure things, indeed, turn out all right in the end -- but the result is just too good-natured to begrudge.

By the time The American is finished, it feels like one great big pointless exercise. With George Clooney on the poster.

What Kwapis does do, however, is nicely handle the film's whale of an emotional payoff.

In other words, For a Good Time is not a good time. For that, you'll have to dust off your Nintendo and reacquaint yourself with "The Legend of Zelda" -- and hope that one of these days somebody can give "Bridesmaids" some real competition.

As well-shot and well-acted as it is, one can't help feeling there's a good movie in there somewhere. Unfortunately, it's buried beneath such an avalanche of extraneousness and artistic posing.

Boxtrolls stands reasonably well on its own, as a cool steampunk fairy-tale that serves as yet another testament to the artistry of the folks at Laika.

Guggenheim's film makes it clear that she is funny. She is humble. And, beneath her extraordinary sense of purpose, she is an ordinary kid.

One gets the feeling that Thompson left a lot on the table with The Jeffrey Dahmer Files, that it could have been something more, something bigger, something elaborate. And that may be true. But the film that Thompson did choose to make - one that is both simple but effective -- is fascinating in its own right.

A sweet, harmless bit of big-screen fluff, and one of the more enjoyable, and cuddly, animated films to hit theaters so far this year.

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

As outrageous and fun as Babylon can be, it feels even more self-indulgent than happy hour on Mardi Gras. Granted, excess is the point of it all. Even the film’s running time, at a bladder-busting 3 hours 9 minutes, tests limits. Making matters worse is that for most of the film’s first half, it’s all setting and no story. And, yet, I think I love it.

Oculus is a time bomb of a psychological horror film.

This is the kind of movie that is so embraceable that it floats smoothly over those imperfections almost unnoticed.

In short, this version of Barrie’s classic tale — which is all about the joy of childhood and the pitfalls of adulthood — feels awfully grown up at times.

After watching the bailouts, the bank foreclosures and the Bernie Madoffs of the world dominate headlines, Michael Moore is mad as hell, and he's going to try to make you mad as hell, too.

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

It all adds up to weave an engaging story, and not just for its wealth of titillations. Many of the sex scenes, in fact, feel more clinical than anything else.

Just don't think too hard -- or at all, really -- or else you run the risk of realizing that Fast & Furious 6 is running on little more than fumes, with just a shot or two of nitrous.

There's no "place" in this place, no clear destination -- and no real payoff in a film that stands a cinematic curiosity but little more.

That's not to say Muppets Most Wanted is all stuffing and nonsense. The franchise hasn't declined that much just yet. There are entertaining moments to be had here, for sure.

With its immensely likable cast elevating the material, Judge extracts just enough ironic chuckles to rescue the movie from being written off as an assembly-line comedy.

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.

Dawson, who to this point has largely built her career playing supporting characters, seizes the opportunity to stand center-stage, all but taking over the film.

And therein lies one of the film's most glaring problems. Perhaps that vilification of Big Agro will resonate with farm folk, but it's not the sort of thing that will have many city slickers -- even those who sympathize with the little guys on this issue -- exactly sitting on the edge of their theater seat.

Gilroy -- who earned writing credits on all four "Bourne" films -- doesn't miss when it comes to the most important task at hand: He takes a well-worn concept and makes it feel new, and without sacrificing its sense of familiarity.

Granted, Elysium could be more clever as it goes about its business. This is smart sci-fi, but it's not as smart as it could have been -- or as many "District 9" fans were probably hoping it would be.

The casting is perfect, and the resetting of the story to China allows for a satisfyingly cinematic retelling.

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.

What we’re left with is a well-crafted genre thriller that is ultimately tripped up by its art house aspirations.

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.

It is funny at times, it is scary at times, it is downright silly at times, and it is action-packed at times. In its best moments, it's all of those things at once.

9, though animated, isn't really a movie for kids. The problem is that, despite its strikingly original set-up and its cool steampunk visual vibe, it's not much of a movie for grown-ups, either.

The result is a film that is engrossing for stretches, that will raise your hackles -- and maybe the hair on the back of your neck -- especially if you believe in the vital role journalism plays in a free society. At the same time, though, it also feels a bit like a by-the-numbers affair.

It is small, it is smart, it is quirky.

What the Duplasses end up with is a film that is amusing at times, a touch repetitive at others, but one that never quite shakes the feeling that it is something of an unfinished thought. And perhaps something they've also grown beyond.

Trumbo isn't monotonous, but it falls short of genius.

While The Last Five Years isn't a bad movie, neither does it fall into the "must-see" category.

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

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.

It's still, however, a long way from the Hundred Acre Wood that most "Pooh" fans remember so fondly.

The problem is, the closer our heroes come to their goal, the weaker the story becomes. What we're left with is a film that gets off to a ripping good start, but which -- given how little time is actually spent in the fanciful world after which the whose shebang is named -- ends up feeling like a cinematic bait-and-switch.

This is a movie purely for grown-ups, with its enjoyment coming not from its explosions or attacking aliens but from spending time with these characters and savoring its optimistic, "never too late for happiness" message.

One only wishes they were able to deliver these performances in a movie that felt more like a true celebration of Mandela's life -- and less like homework.

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.

There's hardly a shred of cleverness to be found amid all the predictabilities.

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.

Frustratingly, whenever it begins to get going and pulses begin pounding, Harper brings things to a screeching halt by introducing flashback sequences to tell us the backstory of Jones’ invented character.

McNamara's relentlessly shiny, happy outlook crosses the line between believable and artificial by about the 10-minute mark.

Against all odds, Gifted nicely accomplishes what it sets out to do.

While Lone Survivor is presented as a piece of hero-focused entertainment, it is a suitably sobering one in the end, and a film that is bound to stick to the ribs of audiences longer than, say, your average Superman movie.

You want to introduce your kids or grandkids to the undeniable pleasures of I Love Lucy? Then I’ve got one word for you: re-runs. Because Being the Ricardos doesn’t do Lucy justice or suitably celebrate her career.

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again is not a Meryl Streep movie. She's featured prominently on the movie's posters. She's all over the trailer. But no matter what the studio wants you to believe, the above-the-title star of 2008's original "Mamma Mia!," and the most celebrated actress of her generation, gets all of about five minutes of screen time in the sequel.

Wiig is so enjoyable to watch that it rescues Johnson's film. She's the best reason to see it.

Celeste and Jesse Forever isn't a movie many people will outright hate, but if this is the most original romantic comedy that Hollywood can muster, forever can't come soon enough.

Even if Demange has a tendency to go on too long about details that don't really matter to the narrative while shortchanging those that do, he peppers White Boy Rick with enough resonant moments, and flashes of humor, to keep it on the rails, chugging forward to the inevitable train wreck.

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

We've seen unhinged Nicolas Cage before. For the most part, we like unhinged Nicolas Cage. But in the darkly comic horror satire Mom and Dad, Cage gets the opportunity to take things to a whole new level. Of course, he takes it.

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."

To be fair, in its best moments, The Best Man Holiday is more enjoyable than even a well-wrapped steam iron, functioning as it does as passable light entertainment -- but only just.

It keeps things light and entertaining. And for $8 admission, that's never a bad investment.

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

Consequently, while it's stocked with moments of heartfelt appreciation for the craft, it plays more like a 17th century soap opera than anything else.

What we end up with is an arm's-length film that feels more haunted than haunting -- and one that audiences will want to forget rather than remember.

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.

The good news is that when the monkey and the lizard start fighting — which, let’s be honest, is really why we’re all here — brother, it is a sight to see. Between the chest-beating, fire-breathing and general mayhem, Godzilla vs. Kong is, if nothing else, a visual feast.

So while J. Edgar ends up feeling like a mostly complete portrait of the man, and as fascinating a story as it is, it still falls just short of being something entirely memorable.

Perhaps the best thing about Seeking a Friend is that it never ceases to surprise, as Scafaria's script consistently defies Hollywood convention in the most congenial ways.

Nicole Kidman as wife Patti (shows nice, subtle touches in her limited time on-screen).

The sum total is no more filling than the popcorn you'll overpay for upon entering the theater. But, like that popcorn, Sing has empty-calorie, crowd-pleasing appeal.

As for that murder scene, it's undoubtedly the part of the film that will get people talking the most. Clearly and meticulously taking its cues from the widely circulated photos of the crime scene, it is dramatic, it is attention-getting and it is memorable. It is, in other words, everything that the rest of Lizzie is not.

Delivers a rare perfect ending to a perfectly likeable trilogy.

In Quiz Lady, the sum total is a heartfelt but uneven shrug that probably should have been better than it is.

The problem is that there's nothing of substance to hold together those occasionally fun moments of often-grotesque absurdity.

Stone is generally given to deep thinking -- eternal fates are on the line. Not only does that lend the riveting and intense Savages a certain gravity, but it's also what separates his film from, say, your favorite Guy Ritchie movie. Here, we find an appealing depth amid the appalling violence.

With beautiful, artful images serving to break up the monotony of the film's wealth of talking heads, Surviving Progress is at times as visually striking as it is persuasive.

Burger's film would have been better had he ended it about three minutes earlier than he does -- a move that would have given his movie at least a dash of profundity.

A bronto-sized slice of big-screen entertainment buoyed by dazzling visual effects and intense action, and a film that plays like part adventure movie, part monster movie and part thrill ride.

It's a fun one to talk about -- if only for the opportunity to shake your head in amused disbelief at what you just saw.

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

Once Learning to Drive gets up to speed it hums along nicely.

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.

Yes, Apatow's film has its peaks and valleys -- just the way life does -- but it stands alone nicely on its own, a satisfying comedic riff on life and all of its absurdities.

But the way [Stone] elevates things in Cruella, taking what is a mediocre, fairly formulaic script and making it sing — making us eager for the next scene, just to see what she’s going to do — isn’t something a lot of people can do, and it’s thrilling to watch.

It's an uplifting, even enchanting, smile-inducer.

Best of all, here there be fun.

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

Not, in other words, a happy story. It is not a story of redemption or healing or finding happiness amid the despair. It is about reaping what one sows. But, damn, those performances. Damn, that dialog. Damn, that's good stuff.

Alas, in Cronenberg's hands, it just comes across as cold and lifeless and exhausting.

Plotwise, though, Brewer's Footloose is anything but loose. In fact, it's rigidly loyal to the original, to the point of slavishness.

While the result is an often fast-moving and very Damon-y Jason Bourne, it doesn't at all feel as original or as well crafted as the series once did.

An oddly inert and even old-fashioned yarn, one that sleepwalks for long stretches, defusing much of the drama of what is an undeniably fascinating true-crime story.

There's an overly episodic feel to it all, as Curtis and company seem happy merely to float along from gag to gag.

Ends up being the kind of movie we don't see a whole lot anymore: an emotionally grounded and quietly meaningful crowd-pleaser that functions as a lovely antidote to the recently ended summer blockbuster season.

Once it gets past its lull-prone first half, Neighbors 2 tries to inject a little heart into the proceedings -- which was the secret weapon of the original -- but even those end up feeling stale and phoned-in.

The fight sequences are briskly choreographed at least, gruesome though they are -- and, to be honest, that goes a long way in a film such as this. In fact they may be the only reason to see it, other than the chance to see Van Damme in full Col. Kurtz mode, all face-painted and droopy-eyed and bat-poop crazy.

Worse, Shrek Forever After feels like just another animated movie -- which is exactly what the series was fighting against when it started, and a big reason why it caught on with audiences.

For a movie like this to last, you've got to have a certain amount of pathos to serve as connective tissue between those jokes. That's where Sisters is most lacking.

It is raw, it is searing, it is honest.

It's still darker, still grittier, still absent any shred of camp. Best of all, it's still got Daniel Craig.... So what's missing? How about a compelling story?

It's interesting to ponder how well Roman J. Israel, Esq. would have worked had Washington passed on the role. Thankfully, we don't have to ponder too long -- because Washington, indeed, took it, and he is terrific.

While it's enjoyable enough to watch, there's no slam-dunk takeaway here.

It's a grand, colorful adventure, an escapist romp draped in tinsel. And, who knows -- if you're all good little boys and girls this year, perhaps it will also be the first installment in a new DreamWorks holiday tradition.

More than just corny. Eclipse is boring.

What we're left with is a thoroughly mediocre, shrug-generating disappointment -- and one that certainly doesn't feel like it should have cost more than a third of a billion dollars to make and market.

Stone's characteristic on-his-sleeve political views aren't the problem with the often-sleepy Snowden. Rather, it's that his film – the lag-prone script for which the filmmaker co-wrote with Kieran Fitzgerald – really doesn't tell us much that we don't already know. That'll certainly be the case for anyone who saw director Laura Poitras' Oscar-winning 2014 documentary "Citizenfour," a remarkable bit of filmmaking.

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.

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

Drama is one thing. Resonance is another. Without digging deeply enough, "The Finest Hours" seems content to capture the former while ignoring the latter.

A movie with undeniable melancholy underpinnings, but Bertuccelli wisely avoids overdoing the drama to nurse cheap tears from her audience.

An uneven R-rated Christmas comedy that's more enjoyable than, say, your Nana's fruitcake, but which at the same time doesn't feel quite like the dose of memorable holiday cheer it could have been.

This isn't a movie that pretends to be profound. It's meant purely as B-movie entertainment, and -- also like the "John Wick" films -- it's fully aware of that.

Even though Blue Bayou could have been set anywhere, Chon is smart enough of a storyteller to leverage the personality and textures of New Orleans — just as he did with southern Los Angeles in his 2017 film Gook — to lend his film a very specific and very authentic sense of place.

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

A low-energy drama, but the kind that has a way of holding your attention -- and keeping you smiling -- for the entire time you're watching it, lifting your mood in the process.

In a word: Bibbidi-bobbidi-blah.

The film -- lame of title but big on fun.

In the end, it all amounts to something of a cinematic victory lap, but one played with finesse and just enough fresh material to make the encore worth it. In a world of bloated reboots and soulless sequels, “Spinal Tap II: The End Continues” earns its place on the setlist.

Almost feels as if it is two different films. One is the opening 20 minutes or so, in which most of the screwball comedy takes place. The other comes when Yimou gets on with the real story. That's where the payoff comes in.

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.

That it's all true might make it more heart-tugging, but it doesn't make it any more interesting.

Along the way, a raft of experts are featured -- including Times-Picayune outdoor editor Bob Marshall -- speaking bluntly about the cozy relationship between politicians and the oil industry.

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.

The problems here are more with the story, which, even at just 89 minutes, feels a touch repetitive at times.

Chimpanzee is so skillfully crafted, and the big-hearted outcome so endearing and entertaining, that any narrative liberties taken to aid in the telling of this prehensile tale are not only forgivable but welcome.

Southpaw has at least one thing its predecessors don't: It's got Jake Gyllenhaal in the lead role, and that makes a big difference.

Because while it can boast of some truly extraordinary special effects -- stomach-churning, face-hacking, arm-slicing visual effects, the kind that are sure to titillate the gleefully twisted -- this Evil Dead is far more gruesome than awesome.

It features predictable humor and an underdeveloped story.

It's also both intense and entertaining enough to leave audiences hungry for the inevitable sequel so clearly set up by its cliffhanger ending.

For one to succeed, it should have a certain "emotional intelligence" of its own. It should have a soul. It should bring something new to the conversation. And while Eva dips a toe into those waters, it never really invites its audiences to dive in head-first.

For the first time in its 25-year existence, Pixar has created an utterly ordinary film.

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.

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.

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.

Ends up being an enjoyable, if only marginally memorable, ride.

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.

The problem is, the second half of the film -- when it's time for it to get down to business -- isn't nearly as compelling as the first. As a result, the impact of Cahill's story is muted as the payoff just doesn't feel rewarding.

Those who connected with "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" last year or the lesser "Quartet" earlier this year likely will find things to appreciate about Williams' film, given its similar senior citizen angle and general sense of niceness and decency.

There's a soothing catharsis in the idea that good guys are every bit as capable as bad guys of raining hellfire down on their enemies.

Ritchie and company spend too much time being cute and not enough time being clever, resulting in a one-dimensional comic-book version of Doyle's detectives.

There's not much meat to the story. So while the picture on the menu suggests filet mignon, we really get mostly fish-and-chips stuff.

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.

The good news: This is Goldthwait the writer-director, not Goldthwait the actor -- so there's no schticky voice to endure. But his exceedingly black comedy does speak loudly -- and it turns out he's actually got something worthwhile to say.

These characters are so likeable, and so well-portrayed, that it's easy to go along with it all.

As well-intended as it is, writer-director Max Mayer's film lacks focus.

It's hard to escape the feeling that Hopkins left a lot on the table -- and that there's a better Jesse Owens film to be told.

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

Getting two biographies on the same person in such a short window is unusual. What's even more unusual is that both suffer from the same flaw.

"Fast and Furious" movies are supposed to be unchallenging, but Fate of the Furious is full-on brain-dead.

It keeps you guessing, it keeps the tension ratcheted up, and it offers a dose of breathless -- if sometimes brainless -- suspense.

One major reason it succeeds is because of 11-year-old actress Bailee Madison, who brings a wonderful believability to her role as the girl at the center of the film.

If your definition of a good story is one that keeps you on the hook, wondering where the heck this particular journey will take you, then French Exit certainly qualifies.

There are a number of laughs to be had in what ends up being an uneven but surprisingly likeable dose of low-calorie nonsense.

When making a film for 10-year-old boys, it doesn't have to be good, necessarily -- just good enough. And that's exactly what Real Steel is: good enough.

Steadman is a fascinating talent with a fascinating process and a fascinating perspective on the world. Maybe somebody will make a definitive documentary about him one day. Unfortunately, For No Good Reason isn't it.

Intermittently interesting, but well-intentioned, it almost makes up for "The Tourist."

As a result, Hereafter isn't so deep that it will change the way many people think about the afterlife. But it is heartfelt and thoughtful and, in a way, comforting.

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

It's probably best not to think very hard about any of it -- just dummy up and laugh along.

The result is a film with sporadic outbursts of wackiness, but one that (Oh, Fortuna's Wheel!) never gains traction from a storytelling standpoint.

Concussion is at its best when it's digging into the science of Omalu's work, chronicling his discovery and his subsequent David-vs.-Goliath fight to get people to acknowledge that he was right. Less effective is the portrayal of the personal toll his fight cost him.

Director Martin Campbell does a nice job of creating suspense, and Ray Winstone stands out for his performance as a conflicted hitman.

A giddy blend of style and attitude that plays like a lightweight cross between a Guy Ritchie and Wes Anderson film.

It's pretty obvious that Almodovar at least was having fun making I'm So Excited. Ditto for his actors, who admirably go all-in for these roles. I'm glad they're having a good time. After all, somebody has to find a reason get excited about I'm So Excited.

So we get no zippy, Tony Stark-flavored one-liners. No comic-relief characters. No nonsense. But that means we also get no up, up and away, either.

As beautiful as the animation is, Zemeckis' real masterstroke is combining it with a loyalty to Dickens' story.

For most of its two-hour running time, Almost Christmas is merely almost funny.

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.

McDonald's film never really finds its footing -- and The Eagle never takes flight.

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.

Never elevated beyond much more than mere presidential puffery.

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

It has its scares — but it all also feels exceedingly familiar, right up to the obligatory set-up for what the studio clearly hopes will be a sequel.

It goes down far more easily than the budget-friendly tripe so often passed off as a romantic comedy here in the streaming era.

The resulting coming-of-age story isn't necessarily an uplifting one. It is harsh. It is melancholy. It is sometimes uncomfortable to watch and predictable here and there. But it also boasts a feeling of authenticity.

While Washington and Wahlberg help make sure the flawed 2 Guns isn't too bad, it's hard not to think that it could have been better.

Maybe it's a touch twee, but Curtis' film is far too uplifting, too life-affirming and too good-natured to do anything but embrace.

Unlike in some of his other recent films, Shyamalan never overreaches this time. Instead, he keeps things simple and focuses on the story at hand.

The result is a film with a scattered feel. That's particularly true in the film's rushed third act, as it skips around all herky-jerky, cramming in resolutions to the various conflicts but never quite giving any of them adequate time to gel.

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 Croods does a lot of things well -- even if it does none of them extraordinarily. The end result is a solidly middle-of-the-road bit of animation -- but the kind that is easily forgotten as soon as something more evolved, and original, comes along.

A well-intended but scattered dramatic comedy.

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.

Lillard's film ends up being more unsatisfying than anything else. His "Fat Kid" might rule the world, but it doesn't quite rule the screen.

Lacks any real sense of vitality. And no matter how worthwhile a film's message is, it's difficult for audiences to care if the path to the payoff so often feels like a slog.

Never coalesces into anything memorable, much less meaningful.

Twenty-five years ago, it would have been impossible to imagine that Imagine That would see Eddie Murphy and The Beatles coming together to create family entertainment, but I'll be darned if it doesn't work.

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.

It's a dark, troubled world that O'Brien has created, and one that's not without its occasional predictabilities. (As soon as you see Christopher Lloyd in the cast, you know he'll figure into the plot at some point. And you'd be right.) Still, it's one that -- like "Stranger Things" -- proves hard to resist.

Between its ridiculous setup and its hard-to-care-about ending, McDonald still manages to craft an engaging suspense film that -- when you're not scratching your head in puzzlement -- will have you on the edge of your seat.

Unwieldy and awkward. If you want to like this story, you'd better expect to have to work for it.

Director David Bowers' story is straightforwardly -- almost unimaginatively -- approached. But, armed with a talented cast and Kinney's chuckle-generating source material, it functions nicely as a sort of big-screen "Wonder Years" for Millennials.

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.

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.

While director Rupert Wyatt's film has a handful of things going for it -- alien invaders, bursts of action, sociopolitical subtext, a stern-faced John Goodman -- it is missing one key element: a soul.

Granted, "intelligent" might be too generous a word to describe Oblivion, which flirts with big questions, but never answers them. What's left is a story that doesn't quite go where no man has gone before.

It's undeniably a B-movie in disguise, leaning heavily on formula and well-established movie tropes to tell a familiar story.

The problem is, Draft Day doesn't really capture that sense of urgency until late in the film.

As a result, while the film is certainly intense at times, it's not some sort of Sam Pekinpah blood-fest.

It’s beautiful, but it begins to fade, and fast — until there’s little, if anything worth remembering.

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.

A satisfying dose of wild imagination and unbridled silliness.

Pros and cons aside, Sinister has the benefit of arriving in the thick of Halloween season, right when movie-goers are most hungry for a few scares. And they'll get them from Derrickson's film, too.

Burton's most imaginative film in some time.

One of the reasons it's so effective is because it's based on a real-life, odds-defying story: that of mountainous Baltimore Ravens offensive tackle Michael Oher (played by Quinton Aaron).

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.

For all of its faults, Irrational Man is a passable diversion at worst. While that's certainly not what Allen was aiming for, when you're talking about Woody Minor, it's enough. Barely, but enough.

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

Spencer makes sure few people will ever forget Ma. She’s the primary reason this genre exercise works to the extent that it does, taking what easily could have been an early-summer eye-roller and turning into a genuinely enjoyable guilty-pleasure thrill ride.

Palmer is a tiny film, but it’s got a big heart, and that helps make it a pleasant and uplifting diversion at a time when many of us could use one.

The result is an exhausting and ungainly mish-mash of a movie that pretends to have something to say but doesn’t really. Similarly, it doesn’t know what it wants to be or — consequently — who its audience is.

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.

One heck of a fun film -- and the most enjoyable and rewarding superhero movie I've seen in a while.

Camp's handsomely shot new Benji manages to find that sweet spot between wholesome and enjoyable. It is cute without seeming desperate, nostalgic without feeling dated, values-based without being preachy, and sweet without being (too) cloying.

Blending old-school practical effects with computer-enhanced explosions of blood and viscera, Renfield tips its cap to the past without being overly reverential to it. Add in frequent outbursts of meticulously choreographed action sequences, and we end up with a film that is more fun than frightening.

Rather than focusing on the most fascinating part of the story -- that would be the establishment and subsequent dissolution of free state after which the film is named -- his film devolves into a series of belabored points, high-minded pontifications and audience manipulation.

It's not really a Disney film. Rather, this is a product of Starz Animation. It's a key distinction, because -- well, because Starz Animation is no Disney, and it's certainly no Pixar. It proves that here.

Despite its adoption of that trendy (and more than a little tired) shooting style, there's an old-fashioned charm to Earth to Echo.

Thanks to Rochefort and Folch, as well as Trueba's delicate direction, it still manages to be an embraceable journey, one with its own quiet -- and artistic -- rewards.

This is solidly a genre picture, and one that follows all the necessary conventions -- but it's also one that does it all very well. That means lots of big, dumb and loud action -- but it also means good, popcorny, summer fun.

Marking the Oscar-winning actress’ feature directing debut, it’s unquestionably a formula film, telling the story of a talented but troubled fighter whose must overcome long odds, crippling self-doubt and tragic life circumstances to achieve in-the-ring redemption. Familiar though that plot might be, it’s the way she fills in the blanks that gives her film a sense of something new.

Thank goodness for Rainey. Even when the story feels false, he never does, operating with an open-faced sense of easy honesty that is missing from much of the rest of the film.

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.

If there’s a knock on the first Coming to America, it’s that its two-hour running time often felt a touch padded. But that’s better than the entirely forgettable Coming 2 America, which is pretty much all padding.

Regardless of how well-argued it is, when watching a film feels this much like homework, that's not likely to happen.

The United States vs. Billie Holiday presents Holiday as a victim and little more. Ignored is the fact that the self-destructive Holiday bears at least some culpability for the slow-motion tragedy that was her life — and for her all-too-early death at 44 years old. Daniels, who seems to have made the classic mistake of falling in love with his subject, apparently doesn’t have time for such nuance.

A rewarding, moving and satisfyingly original film.

She could stand to learn a lesson herself, from another magical governess -- you know, the one about the spoon full of sugar.

The new Superfly is, simply, a terrible movie. It is slick, and it boasts action, hot tunes and style to spare. But beyond the polish that a deep-pocketed studio backer can buy -- in this case, Sony's Columbia Pictures shingle -- this is a shamefully hollow movie that fails on multiple levels.

It's just plain less -- less than what sci-fi fans are probably hoping for, and less than what it could have been.

It feels more like a poor man's "Poltergeist, " minus the static-filled TV.

Part 2 really is a continuation of "Part 1," both from a story standpoint and from an artistic standpoint.

All aspects of this great story are drawn toward the middle ground of mediocrity.

Although Epic isn't quite an animated masterpiece -- or as enchanting as the vastly underrated "Guardians" -- it's still a fun, sweet-hearted kid-pleaser that boasts some downright lovely animation.

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.

Unimaginative and painfully generic.

It is nothing if not a nice film. But it's little more than that.

In the context of COVID, Slingshot becomes something else, transforming from what would have been a decent but derivative sci-fi thinker into a stirring ode to the vital importance of others.

Any improvements over the original RoboCop are mere window dressing, more a superficial function of technical advances in filmmaking than of any sort of storytelling prowess or fresh narrative ideas.

Beautiful Creatures is still an unabashed imitator, hewing closely to the "Twilight" blueprint. Some might go so far as to call it a blatant ripoff, as the differences between the two are cosmetic at best.

While it has its moments of passable action -- ends up feeling every bit as toothless as its dinosaurs are toothy.

What we're left with is a movie that is about as nourishing as the Junior Mints and nachos available at the theater snack bar. But, then, many a Friday night dinner has been made of far less.

"Second Best" might not be second-rate, but neither is it the match of the first "Best Exotic Marigold Hotel."

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 not only shameless, it detracts from what this movie could have been, and still is when the self-promoting Harvey shuts up.

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."

In this new “Grinch,” it’s hard to escape the feeling we’re being offered a serving of the same old roast beast -- and a decidedly fatty serving at that.

No, Funeral Kings isn't quite dead on arrival -- but it's not too far from needing life support.

A movie that offers exactly the kind of bittersweet drama you'd expect from something called White Irish Drinkers.