Stephen Whitty

Director Stefano Sollima, who cut his teeth on Italian TV mob dramas, is good at building suspense. He fills the screen with striking images, too -- night-vision raids, heat-signature tracking, eye-in-the-sky surveillance.

To its credit, even the film realizes how ridiculous it is. After one over-the-top hand-to-hand bout, Lorraine and her Boris Badenov opponent are left literally punch-drunk, swinging wild like a couple of stumblebums.

The movie...is a visual feast, one of the rare 3D films which was clearly designed with that extra dimension in mind.

The new Kong: Skull Island really gets it right — the exotic adventure, the spectacular special effects, the towering terrors. It’s a big hunk of nostalgic fun, reminding us of the 1933 original even as it monkeys around with the classic story.

The movie's no knockout, but at least it gives us one good performance, and one great one.

As a brief, brightly-coloured, virtual babysitter – lasting just long enough to keep the children diverted while you check in and out of that last Zoom meeting, and get dinner on the table – it dutifully fulfills its obligations. But anyone looking for much beyond that in this tale of a flying squirrel – well, they’d have to be nuts.

Even for a film about time loops, everything feels overly familiar. (Note to filmmakers: Simply referencing the film you’re stealing from doesn’t excuse the theft). And unlike Mark and Margaret’s do-over day, in the end the whole thing slips by without leaving any impression at all.

Both charmingly retro (dig that swingin’ score!) and confidently modern (girls run the world!) it’s a hip heist movie with a few laughs and some lovely fun.

In a way, the film is its own genre – the found-footage documentary. There are no interviews with other people, no self-described experts. Just Hoon, who – adding to the film’s melancholy sense of waste – comes across as an unspoiled, charismatic and mostly amiable young man.

Craig is cruelly efficient. Dave Bautista makes a good, Oddjob-like assassin. And while Lea Seydoux doesn’t leave a huge impression as this film’s “Bond girl,” perhaps it’s because we’ve already met — far too briefly — the hypnotic Monica Bellucci, as the first real “Bond woman” since Diana Rigg.

The all-new, mostly female Ghostbusters reboot is in theaters, full of terrific special effects, icky green slime, a horribly haunted Manhattan and, yes, the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. But the big laughs you’d expect from a "Bridesmaids" reunion of director Paul Feig and stars Kristen Wiig and Melissa McCarthy never materialize.

At its core, The Kill Team has one great performance, and some important things to say – about the dangerous appeal of the strong, and the easy malleability of the young. It’s well worth watching, and thinking on. It’s just a shame that that great performance isn’t matched by all the others – and that what the film has to say is said in such a dutifully by-the-book way.

Director de Aranoa keeps things moving, though, with a firm sense of pace and a rough, punk-edged soundtrack.

As much a biopic of the show as of its stars, Being The Ricardos has a few good performances, and a cleverly structured (if factually challenged) script. But star Nicole Kidman’s performance is shaky, and Sorkin relies too heavily on an overbearing score to deliver the emotions.

There’s a new “Cars” pulling into theaters, but the series is out of gas.

Once the story drags Bourne out of retirement, it's just a bunch of fights and chase scenes, only occasionally interrupted by a few lines of dialogue.

Washington is terrific as Roman. The character may be unclear, but the actor’s commitment is focused, and his anger and indignation are sharp and painful.

Despite some great effects, and one good performance, it never quite gets underway.

Rather than including people with their politics, the filmmakers depend on flashy sleight-of-hand, distracting us with a deceptive narrative trick that isn’t nearly as fresh as they think.

It's tasty at times, but feels like a very special episode of "30 Rock." Halfway in, you're still expecting Kenneth the Page to show up.

The switch between moods—obvious comedy and sermonizing message—comes often, and clumsily.

A few minutes into The House with a Clock in Its Walls, you realize Eli Roth knows what he’s doing—and that means carefully mixing the scares and stillness for a horror comedy that’s made-to-order for certain monster-loving 10-year-olds.

A movie that really mined that story would be worth the gold. This one barely doesn’t even capture the bronze.

Director Jodie Foster's Money Monster runs a trim 98 minutes, but it's still not quite worth the investment.

Too much of Kursk revolves around scenes of sodden sailors sitting around wondering why someone doesn’t just hurry up and rescue them. A sentiment likely to be shared by some audiences, as well.

Like the first film, The Secret Life of Pets 2 is at its best when it concentrates on the unconditional love offered by mankind’s best friends, or gently mocks familiar situations.

The film—Weitz’s first since 2015’s indie Grandma—feels a little cheap and shortchanged.

Instead of ever getting truly "Magnificent," these multicultural gunslingers remain largely a meh seven.

Director Ava DuVernay’s version of the beloved children’s classic has a big cast and the best of intentions. It’s socially progressive, racially diverse and packed with positive messages. It’s just not much fun.

The script takes forever to get started, and once it’s going, labours to create a single plausible character. Nor can Taylor, who last handled the dreary The Girl On The Train, wring any suspense from his scenes.

Real films breathe, alive with imperfections, accidents, with everything that Lee's worked so carefully to guard against. Billy Lynn's Long Half Time Walk is long, all right, but only half-alive — as careful as a diagram, as chilly as a statue.

People who crave a movie about a secret agent with her own sexual agency — and a mission to give male predators exactly what they deserve — are going to want front-row seats. And a sequel.

See Remember. You won't regret it — or forget it.

The new Murder on the Orient Express isn’t a whodunit. It’s a why’d-they-do-it. Why make a new version of a perfectly good old movie if you’re not going to do anything new?

It’s a deliriously silly, often preposterous movie...but director Susanna Fogel keeps things moving too quickly to leave much time for complaints.

When the story does wrap up, it's all too little, too late, and far too long. Which given everything stuffed into it, just leaves the super-sized Triple 9 triply disappointing.

The special effects remain startling, and in your face. But there's nothing new here, and what's old feels like less. The corporate villains seem to have wandered over from "Rampage." The humor has vanished.

This smart, raunchy comedy is a movie aimed at women. Full of frank, just-us-girls talk about men and wicked gags about drunken sex and intimate "landscaping," it's probably a poor choice for date night. But it's a great pick for girl's night out.

It never stops for a minute, yet it never goes anywhere. And much as it promises to take you to a thousand planets, it can’t find one sign of intelligent life.

In the end, you get a Sunday morning sermon when what you really want is a Saturday midnight screening.

Stupid as a bag of hammers and twice as loud, Hardcore Henry sounds like the title of the worst Kissinger bio ever. Actually, it's an action movie that feels more like you are trapped in a video game. A really, really bad video game.

Going in Style has gone a little soft. The geezers-go-gangsta story is back, but in a remake that lacks the edge that made the 1979 original memorable. It’s cuddly when it should be cranky, nice when it needs to be a little nasty.

Clear-eyed and sharply written, it feels like a natural fit for the small screen, although it may be too quiet to make much of an impact on theatrical markets.

Demolition is a wreck.

No one has been too naughty to be subjected to this reindeer poop.

The film has to rush at the end, to wrap up all these different stories, and it still leaves one of them open-ended. It’s possible that they ran out of time. But it’s more likely that another sequel is already planned.

True, the movie's intense, and Jovovich is certainly in fighting shape. But after 15 years of this franchise, it's getting hard to tell Alice from the things she's fighting. It's all squint and grunt, slash and groan.

Although Affleck's been a decent director - capturing real local color in "Gone Baby Gone" and "The Town," building tension nicely in "Argo" - his work here is dim and dull. Live by Night may be about rum, but the pacing is like molasses.

Too bad the new actress doesn’t bring much to the party, and this “origin story” feels like leftovers.

To be fair, Being Charlie has some action and a few good jokes. It's not completely unwatchable. It's certainly better than Reiner's last few awful movies.

This movie has Chris Hemsworth, in between "Avengers" movies, and a lot of computer-generated sea life. It uses a lot of fancy lures, but it never hooks you.

The Hitman’s Bodyguard is a movie for anyone who just wants to see Samuel L. Jackson curse, Ryan Reynolds smirk and Salma Hayek kick butt while looking absolutely incredible. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

It’s not top Woody, perhaps. What is, anymore? But on a cold day, it’s as welcome as the familiar smell of greasy fries, the feel of gritty sand, the winking of those far-off colored lights.

Slim movies like this live or die based on their personal charm, and the sour Destination Wedding soon wheezes its way into the ICU.

Unforgettable isn't.

There's noise and movement, an all-out war, and the usual happy ending, but no real blood, no real life. And not much fun.

Some movies are feasts. Some films are desserts. This picture is cheese in a can, and if it only accepted that, it would be a lot more fun — like “Alligator,” the tongue-in-cheek classic that had a toothy terror climbing out of a city sewer.

Alexander Skarsgard is more abs than actor as the ape man, and Margot Robbie's Jane looks about as 19th-Century as an Aussie surfer girl. Together, they produce all the real-life passion of an Abercrombie & Fitch ad.

It's all angst and no adventure, a lot of fury and little fun.

The Angry Birds Movie is just fowl.

Foy and Alvarez have still spun the old and new elements together in an effective web. If this is a trap, it’s one you won’t hurry to escape from—or even fear being caught in again.

Inside the endlessly dull, oh-so-serious All I See Is You there’s a short, fun, trashy movie dying to get out. And dying. And dying.

Director James Ponsoldt — who did the very good "The Spectacular Now" and "Smashed" — is great at visuals, peppering the screen with glowing tweets and comments. He overplays the comedy, though, and underplays the mystery — there's never a feeling that Mae is in real danger.

Backtrack eventually moves beyond its shamelessly borrowed set-up to create a few chills of its own.

Why is she attracted to him? For that matter, why are we watching?

Diesel is the star (as well as a producer), in every scene. And he drags the film down with him.

Despite the constant effort and genuine warmth of star Melissa McCarthy, the film’s stitched-together stories come apart early on.

It loses some of its warmth, and most of its charm. And it ends up as nearly as cold and creepy as the space it takes us through.

Despite its novel plot, and some lovely music and incidental artwork—the title fireworks, the rugged seaside and that glittery magic ball are all beautifully rendered—the film quickly drags.

For a movie that’s supposed to be about a modern-day Geppetto bringing his dolls to life, the wooden Welcome to Marwen never makes it out of the toy box.

Robert De Niro is back doing standup in The Comedian, and it's a movie made to be heckled. Full of gross jokes (and an even grosser love story), it deserves the hook — and fast.

Moonwalkers is supposedly a comedy. So its clever conspiracy quickly goes disastrously wrong.

For fans of this goofy sort of comedy, or of Atkinson’s similarly loopy “Mr. Bean,” it may be a gentle treat.

It's fun for a while, on a simple, single-shooter, video-game level. And for a change, the movie's stunts plug into Statham's pre-Hollywood career as a champion diver; this may be the most watery thriller since "Thunderball."

All the flash and sizzle of modern movie effects can't make up for a once spectacular tale that feels not just scaled-down, but shrunk.

After a sharp, satiric opening, though, Baywatch slowly sinks. The scenery is pretty, including the actors, but Johnson and Efron are better at making fun of themselves than landing zingers.

So, Bobby, seriously, what the hell is happening? You got a new movie, or what you’re billing as a movie, except it's already on cable and I figure a month from now it'll be in one of those Redbox things. And it's called Heist, I guess because it wants to separate me from my money.

Quick, what do you call it when a movie takes both of the year’s biggest breakout action stars and wastes them in a bad Kevin Costner movie? Criminal.

The film borrows plenty, but it brings nothing new.

Instead of intriguing ambiguity, this updated version – which had a long and bumpy development – offers only maddening confusion...With false endings within false endings, it’s the sort of movie whose final fade-out will leave audiences groaning in frustration.

The Assignment is a movie about a heartless assassin, a mad doctor and a forced surgery. But it’s the movie that should be sued for malpractice.

The Dark Tower is simply dim.

Hugely expensive and extravagantly stupid, Alice Through the Looking Glass is just one more silly Hollywood mashup, an innocent fantasy morphed into a noisy would-be blockbuster.

Sure it’s got big, blurry action scenes, a plane crash, and an army of dusty, mindless zombies. But I think some of them may have been the screenwriters, because the movie’s practically lifeless.

The only thing that's revolting is how dull the series has gotten.

Pretty as Bratt and Munn are, they're not distracting enough to cover up for the screaming Hart and grating Jeong, who seem to be in a race to see who can play a more annoying character. In the end, it's a tie — they both win.

While the first "Independence Day" was genuinely big, dumb fun, its sequel only manages to be a bigger, dumber bore.

Badly cast, broadly directed, and hampered by a book that hasn’t aged well since the musical’s 1981 West End debut, it’s hard to imagine just who this film’s target audience is.

There are no surprises, and the addition of a supposedly mysterious killer fails to add any mystery.

But the real problem is that the picture feels padded. There are endless, and pointless, scenes of radio hosts debating the vigilante violence. And the wildly mismatched shoot-outs — every criminal Kersey goes up against is slow, stupid and a lousy shot — waters down the thrills.

Got your holiday turkey yet? Well, don't worry, Diane Keaton and John Goodman have one waiting for you at the movie theater.

It’s not a great movie, but it’s a good reminder of why Rockwell’s admirers have happily stuck with him for decades.

Remember “Olympus Has Fallen”? This one is worse.

This Simone film hits all the wrong notes early. What is it trying to say about this enraged, iconic singer? Why does it want to say it? Since screenwriter Cynthia Mort apparently never asked those questions, director Cynthia Mort can't offer any answers.

The first-time filmmakers have little idea of pace, or imagery. Flatly lit, squarely staged, the scenes just plod on.

Director Alex Proyas’ movie feels like a bad video game.

This isn't a movie, it's a rapsheet, a series of assaults committed against its cast and its viewers.

Admittedly, Travolta, who produced, is sure having fun. What ham wouldn’t? Chewing on the scenery like it was a meatball hero, he swaggers around in shiny suits and silver wigs, barking orders.