Mike Scott

There's humor there, but this is a "smart" comedy, which is to say it's not intended to make you guffaw.

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.

What it does have going for it are its lead actors -- Brand and Hill both know exactly how to deliver a punch line -- and a lead character who represents one of the best bits of rock 'n' roll satire since "This Is Spinal Tap."

If it weren't for the casting of Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in the lead roles, the film probably would have gone straight to DVD.

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

A surprisingly entertaining movie on its own, a strap-yourself-in, suspend-your-disbelief summer popcorn adventure.

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.

Even if the obligatory third-act twist arrives with all the subtlety of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Drag Me to Hell otherwise steers mostly clear of predictability.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Pixels is a slice of pure, frivolous entertainment that doesn't try to overreach.

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."

A sleight-of-hand heist film that feels like a cross between David Blaine and "Ocean's Eleven," with a little Robin Hood thrown in, it's a ripping bit of fun. If, that is, you let it be.

The result is a hoot, as Nelson breathes comic life into the proceedings with an effortless, unselfconscious joie de vivre.

When it comes down to it, there's one overriding factor that lessens the impact of the film's numerous stumbles, and that's this: It's just plain entertaining to see all these warped characters, and all these well-cast actors, bouncing off of one another, interacting with one another, and creating a barely controlled chaos.

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.

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.