Mike Scott

Both taut and satisfyingly relevant, it presents a portrait of a compromised elections system -- one that should give the left wing, the right wing and the fringe-dwelling nutjobs something they can all agree on. Namely: We're in deep doo-doo.

There isn't a whole lot of nuance in writer-director Rachid Bouchareb's unapologetically political movie. As such, it doesn't take much brainpower for a viewer to stay a step or two ahead of his plot the entire way.

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

It is, in its best moments, an interesting exercise for Bullock — and a just-passable diversion for audiences in the mood for something a little more gritty and somber than a repeat airing of It’s a Wonderful Life or some other feel-good holiday standard.

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."

Even if a filmmaker is dealing with familiar themes, when he or she fills in the blanks as sweetly and amiably as writer-director Geremy Gasper does in Patti Cake$, any desire to pick things apart all but vanishes.

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.

Rarely is an actress asked to do so much with so little -- and even rarer does that actress succeed as well as Clarkson does.

That character flaw makes for some great shock-fueled laughs in Lewis' film -- Giamatti does full-on comic rage as well as anyone.

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

Thoroughly, and disappointingly, pedestrian.

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

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.

A satisfyingly fresh take on a character we all only thought we knew well.

Has potential to be fun and meaningful, but it's not exactly a novel idea. In fact, it feels like a literary-minded "Lars and the Real Girl," the 2007 dramatic comedy that starred Ryan Gosling as a man who falls in love with a sex doll, and which coasted along on its charm and smarts.

As with most Ferrell projects, there's nothing profound going on in The Other Guys. It's just a bit of good, stupid fun, had at the expense of an uber-formulaic genre that has long been ripe for the spoofing. But it also works.

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.

Age of Ultron -- for all the eye candy and mindless entertainment it has to offer -- stays safely within the franchise's established parameters. Here, there are no real surprises.

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

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.

If you currently own a G.I. Joe toy or if you've dressed like a ninja at least twice since Halloween, you're going to find a lot to "hooah" about in "G.I. Joe: Retaliation."

Seizing the role, and the screen, Gelber actually makes us care what happens to his surly, thoroughly unlikable character.

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.

Some of those detours are fun ideas - like Marty's O. Henry-esque tale of the Amish psychopath. Mostly, though, they feel out of place, like so much filler that distracts from the half-developed main story. Call me crazy, but I need more from my movie.

Watching it, one gets the feeling that Coppola knows these vampiric types all too well. What unfolds feels like a cross between "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" and "Natural Born Killers," and a film that is far more disapproving than glamorizing of the go-go-go Los Angeles lifestyle -- but fascinating nonetheless.

A small, wonderfully minimalist film that nonetheless packs an emotional wallop while delivering a beautifully heartbreaking portrait of the power of human connection.

The truth, however, is that for much of Soderbergh's film, it's all as yawn-inducing as its premise.

Unfortunately, like the Poison song says -- and, in many ways, like the decade itself -- it ain't nothin' but a good time.