Mike Scott

Most of all, though, there's the story itself, which was already pretty quirky -- and amazing -- even before Oscar-nominated screenwriter Thomas McCarthy ("Up") put pen to paper for director Craig Gillespe's film.

Songs such as "We Shall Overcome," "Wade in the Water" and "This Little Light of Mine" are powerful to begin with. Listening to them, music-video-style, over footage shot during the era, however, elevates them.

Wiig is so enjoyable to watch that it rescues Johnson's film. She's the best reason to see it.

A low-energy drama, but the kind that has a way of holding your attention -- and keeping you smiling -- for the entire time you're watching it, lifting your mood in the process.

Can it be considered a comic masterpiece on the same level as "Animal House," that mother of frat-house comedies? Not by a long shot.

Here is a film that not only entertains, but also educates and -- thanks to Jodo's deep confidence and energetic artistic optimism -- one that also inspires.

Even when it's at its best, Walk of Shame is rarely more than merely amusing. On the other hand, when it's at its worst, it's nothing short of insulting, thanks to its willingness to engage in the kind of gross stereotyping that treads uncomfortably close to racist territory.

One heck of a fun film -- and the most enjoyable and rewarding superhero movie I've seen in a while.

Nicole Kidman as wife Patti (shows nice, subtle touches in her limited time on-screen).

Khan in particularly is wonderful in Batra's film, which takes the time to indulge in quiet moments that Khan expertly fills with his expressive face and sense ease in front of a camera.

Under the Skin is, in short, a film that does just that: gets under one's skin, shining a light on what it means to be human -- even if what we end up seeing is something less than comforting.

A giddy blend of style and attitude that plays like a lightweight cross between a Guy Ritchie and Wes Anderson film.

There are lulls to be had here, but there is a smattering of laughs, too -- and some pretty good ones, at that. If, that is, you'll give yourself permission to laugh at Wayans and company's lowest-common-denominator antics.

Oculus is a time bomb of a psychological horror film.

This newer installment is every bit its predecessor's match as far as action goes. Where it exceeds it, however, is in the between-the-fights moments.

The problem is, Draft Day doesn't really capture that sense of urgency until late in the film.

Vol. 1 functions reasonably well as a standalone film in its own right, playing out like a dose of mass therapy, an interesting, Von Trier-led sexploration of humankind's conflicted approach to sex: We love it, but we also fear it and are often thoroughly ashamed of it.

It all adds up to weave an engaging story, and not just for its wealth of titillations. Many of the sex scenes, in fact, feel more clinical than anything else.

So here's what moviegoers can trust from the Russo's Captain America: Winter Solider: They can trust it to be a brisk ride. They can trust it to be entertaining. They can expect it to be suspenseful.

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.

The problems here are more with the story, which, even at just 89 minutes, feels a touch repetitive at times.

That's not to say Muppets Most Wanted is all stuffing and nonsense. The franchise hasn't declined that much just yet. There are entertaining moments to be had here, for sure.

There are moments of depth there as well, as Anderson touches on themes of friendship and loyalty. More than anything else, though, The Grand Budapest Hotel is just a fun ride -- a wild, wonderful ride seemingly plucked out of Anderson's dream journal.

An entertaining and interesting film, and one that speaks with a reasonable degree of credibility. And while that might not make it high art, it's good enough for me.

If not for the "Fast and Furious" franchise, Need for Speed probably wouldn't exist outside of the video game series that inspired it.

Does The Wind Rises represent Miyazaki at the top of his game? No, not really. But it could be Miyazaki at the end of the game, and that alone is reason enough to appreciate the film for the things it offers rather than hammer it too hard for the things it lacks.

It keeps you guessing, it keeps the tension ratcheted up, and it offers a dose of breathless -- if sometimes brainless -- suspense.

The end result is still not a very good film, but it is one that boasts some enjoyable moments -- but only if you find yourself with two hours to kill.