Mike Scott

With no real beginning and no real ending, the unsatisfying "Mockingjay Part 1" is essentially all middle -- one big, stretched out, watered-down second act. The result is a handsome film, but also a talky one that takes a while to hit its storytelling stride and that, once there, repeatedly stalls to fill time.

Whiplash is, at its core, about jazz -- that smoothest, mellowest of American art forms. But don't let that fool you. Writer-director Damien Chazelle's impressive sophomore effort is about as rock 'n' roll as a movie about jazz can possibly be.

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.

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

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.

From the first line of its deep, rapid-fire dialog all the way through to its trippy ending -- which is guaranteed prompt discussion on the drive home -- Inarritu has crafted a film that begs to be rewatched, with the promise of each repeated viewing bringing something new.

Aja's film ends up being an fairly satisfying Halloween diversion, using those magical horns to overcome its flaws and transform itself into a decidedly dark, but weirdly sweet, ride.

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.

John Wick makes a few feeble attempts at witty repartee, but, in the end, Leitch and Stahelski's film feels like an unintentional parody of itself.

The Best of Me is full-on Nicholas Sparks, through and through, checking all the boxes in the by-now well-established formula. It's just not the best of Nicholas Sparks.

It's an engrossing film, rich with action and emotion.

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.

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.

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.

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.

It's in the film's Africa-set scenes -- at the film's start and again in its closing 25 minutes or so -- when The Good Lie is at its best. This is where the story is at its most moving and rewarding.

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.

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."

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.

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.

As a collective thing, though, those moments add up to a messy, all-over-the-map movie that toys with big, existential thoughts, but it doesn't have a coherent enough story with which to drive them home.

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

Without Hardy, The Drop would be in danger of becoming just another crime drama. With him, though, it's something else entirely -- something alive, tightly wound and irresistible.

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

Yes, that makes Frank weird, but it's the kind of weird I can't get enough of.

This is an alternate-history rock 'n' roll saga. It is not Elvis, but Elvis-ish.

Agata Kulesza is pitch-perfect as the tortured aunt, weighed down by years of shame and sorrow. In a quieter but equally impactful role is newcomer Agata Trzebuchowska as Ida, a character defined by a quiet, rigid stoicism but who, with her cherubic face, engenders great empathy.

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