Mike Scott

There's meaning, great meaning, in Susser's wonderfully oddball little film.

This is featherweight, family-friendly fare, through and through. But that doesn’t detract from its ability to distract, thanks largely to a fun, fast-moving script, rich production values and director Harry Bradbeer’s willingness to stand back and let star Millie Bobby Brown shine.

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

Like the original, it is a moody, atmospheric film, one boasting significantly more depth than your typical blow-'em-up.

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.

Ends up being a pleasantly surprising blast from the past, a delightful and amusing touchstone to Allen's comedic prime.

For all of its faults, ends up being relentlessly watchable as well, a summertime popcorn spectacle plopped down in the middle of the fall movie season.

It is classless, it is tasteless, it is idiotic, it is juvenile and it is something your mother totally wouldn't approve of. But it also is flat-out hilarious, a go-for-broke comedy that not only is the best laugher released so far this summer, but one of the best so far this year.

It's all good, goofy fun.

It's easy to forget that you're watching a sci-fi film at all. That's because it's just a shade or two from not even being a sci-fi film.

Yes, it is derivative, but in a year in which films from the 1980s are getting needless remakes seemingly every other week, this one stands out as a rare one that works. That's a good "Thing."

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.

Granted, Luca might not go down as one of the more profound entries in the Pixar catalog. Don’t expect it to make you well up the same way Up or Toy Story 2 did. Still, at a time in which international travel is mostly for the bold, it’s an undeniably pleasant summertime trip.

If nothing else, Garcia's movie is a brave one, with its unflinching look at adoption, which -- as overwhelmingly compassionate an act as it is -- often leaves behind deep emotional scars.

The movie documents much more than a talent competition -- it documents a political movement.

To be clear: Despite the holiday flavor, and despite the pint-sized hero, this is no kids' movie. There is swearing. There is blood. There is an army of 180 very nude Santas coursing through the snow. That's not the kind of thing Frank Capra ever could have dreamed of -- and that change of pace is exactly what makes Rare Exports a rare, if unexpected, holiday treat.

Feels like a movie that belongs in June or July, with all the other comic book fare. But I'll gladly take it now, no matter what the calendar says.

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

An Ireland-set charmer oozing with a satisfying intelligence and driven by the considerable charisma of Brendan Gleeson ("Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows").

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).

The real reason Zemeckis’ Pinocchio works so well is because it doesn’t forget the emotion and humor.

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.

The performances are strong enough to elevate things. Darin, Villamil and Francella are the kinds of actors who you just know you've seen before, but whom you probably haven't.

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.

Burton's most imaginative film in some time.

This is a dirty, stinky Western -- the kind where authenticity is the guiding artistic hand and where a layer of filth and grime have seemingly settled over everything but the popcorn in your lap.

A big-budget crowd-pleaser that avoids the pitfall of taking itself too seriously, it is well-cast, well-crafted and just plain fun, an old-school spectacle that makes a compelling case for sitting in the dark with a hundred or more strangers and just enjoying the show.

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.