Mike Scott

People had to see "Psycho." To this day, it stands as an Everest of big-screen suspense, having not just changed the way we watch movies, but also the way we make them.

Filmmaking is a product of the heart and the head, at least when it's at its best.

It doesn’t talk down to its young audience or hold up its teenage characters’ perceived imperfections for ridicule. Rather, as Hughes’ movies were so good at doing, Bottoms meets its viewers on their level, connecting with them and laughing with them about the absurdity of the modern adolescent experience.

There are other movies out this year that are more technically ambitious than Wild (I'm thinking "Birdman.") There are others that are wider-reaching in scope and sheer audacity (the 12-years-in-the-making "Boyhood"). But there aren't any others that offer the power and profundity of Wild. This movie is a gift. It's also a journey.

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.

Burning Cane is all about Youmans and his uncommon vision, which would be impressive coming from a filmmaker of any age. Making it all that much more exciting is the fact that this is just the beginning.

What Nolan has created with Inception is the rare movie that is bound to improve with repeated viewings, both as a means to drink in its brilliance one more time, and to see what sly clues might have flown under your radar the first time around.

While Villeneuve’s film boasts a certain trippiness, for the most part it lacks any sense of joy, adventure or fun.

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

Rush is just that -- a rush, and a film that is sure to get audiences' engines going.

This is nothing if not an important film. It is important for the bullied to see, if for no other reason than to realize they aren't alone, and it is important for the bullies to see as well as for the parents of both groups so everyone can understand just how devastating the problem is.

Best of all, Disney seems to understand the limits of a preschooler's attention span.

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

It also is a film that does the impossible: It lubes its audiences' mental gears and sets them to spinning without insulting anyone and without issuing threats of eternal damnation. Subtlety, thy name is Vera. Can I get an "amen"?

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.

An exceedingly well-assembled genre picture, a spell-binding, edge-of-your-seat thriller.

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.

The most impressive thing about Simien's film is his script, which he wrote. With multiple protagonists and multiple storylines to serve, he deftly manages to keep a number of balls in the air -- without losing sight of his film's purpose.

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.

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.

Not only does Invictus tell a remarkable story of a remarkable man, but it also illustrates how sports can be a salve to a wounded community. And that's something New Orleanians can certainly appreciate.

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.

That is the kind of celebrity travelogue we could use more of — because, unlike many of its predecessors, this is a trip worth taking.

I've got a fourth verb to add to the comma-challenged title of Julia Roberts' how-to-be-happy travelogue, Eat Pray Love. How about "edit"?

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.

The result is intense and powerful, a full-color portrait of the importance of never surrendering.

It is not uplifting and only marginally inspiring — and even then only as an ode to the amount of pain the human heart can endure. But in the sensitive hands of writer-director Sean Durkin (“Martha Marcy May Marlene”), it is also a well-told, smartly crafted story that can stake a realistic claim to being one of the more moving and compelling sports dramas in recent memory.

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.