Steve Persall

Another Earth is stealthily effective, with silences often counting more than words.

The Amazing Spider-Man is fun, as any summer movie amusement ride can be. But it left me feeling the same as Raimi's version; that groundwork has been dutifully laid for a winning franchise in need of a few surprises.

Working in tandem they (Gordon-Levitt/Shannon) make Premium Rush a movie that's off the chain, as the kids say.

Despite another charismatic turn by Chadwick Boseman as Thurgood, Marshall gradually feels less like his movie.

It's a refreshing change from run-of-the-kill horror. Nothing in Splice feels done merely for the moment -- it's to creep you out later.

This is old-school monumental filmmaking, without CGI tricks or many soundstage comforts for a dedicated cast. David Lean would probably approve.

Not even J.K. Rowling can say abracadabra and make a worthwhile movie franchise appear. The lightning that struck Harry Potter once merely grazes Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, turning the sorcerer's mentor into a fantasy apprentice.

Deadpool's flawed insolence is appealing, like a mangy pup crawling into your lap.

The IMF workings are still complex, but without Brian DePalma's artistic indulgences (Part 1) and John Woo's poetic distractions (Part 2). Abrams cuts to the chase whenever the option arises, and the results don't leave much time to question logic or motive. [4 May 2006, p.6W]

The Infiltrator is an evocative crime drama, anchored by Cranston's gift for playing internal conflict with wordless expression and that deep, clinched voice.

As Kay and Arnold lurch toward intimacy, the roles bring out a playful side seldom seen in Streep and practically never in Jones, his signature surliness melting into disarming smiles and tenderness.

Rogue One will engage such diehards but making new friends for the brand is unlikely.

It's rare to wish a movie were an hour or two longer, when it already feels an hour longer than it is.

The latest incarnation of Bob Kane's classic comic book creation shares the same angular, menacing animation style of the Fox TV Network afternoon series that inspired it. [25 Dec 1993, p.7B]

Christensen plays him with Lecter-like intensity; the unsettling calmness of someone capable of anything.

Movies about cooperating Africans and Americans often take a condescending risk of great white saviors making everything better for poor black folks. The Good Lie isn't that sort of movie, except in its marketing.

American Made wants it both ways, with comedy eroding its drama and vice versa.

Linklater tinkers with Ponicsan’s memorable characters while asking practically the same performances of his actors that Ashby did. Of course, if a viewer isn’t familiar with The Last Detail then Last Flag Flying gets by as an okay grumpy old soldiers tragicomedy. The rest of us know better because we’ve seen far better.

The Conjuring 2 is serviceable horror, heavy on the audio stings yet smarter than the average gorefest.

The Runaways isn't just about rock 'n' roll; it IS rock 'n' roll, as loud, sexy, sometimes sloppy and ultimately exhilarating as the music can be.

Pawn Sacrifice tells a fascinating story in unspectacular fashion, resulting in a draw.

This is a slight movie, but it's Williams' all the way (possibly to an Oscar nod) while the rest of the cast supports her well.

Salt is a movie constantly painting itself into corners then tromping out with arbitrary twists and action distractions.

Lawrence makes every moments as Katniss count, pouring out mixed feelings through puffy eyes.

Think "Catch Me If You Can" mashed up with "Brokeback Mountain" if Mel Brooks directed and you'll get the idea.

The heist movie genre gets a hip-hop makeover in Takers, a movie loaded with as much style as ammunition.

It's a very good performance that isn't for the "Talladega Nights" crowd and indie audiences can appreciate that.

The most satisfying portions of Saving Mr. Banks occur when the movie adds pinches of salt to the spoonfuls of sugar making this medicine go down.