The elements are in place for a decent little movie, but Loach overplays everything, offering nothing in the way of surprises. Bobby’s supposed transformation isn’t particularly revelatory, but then, neither is anything else.

Dumb fun can be, well, fun. G.I. Joe: Retaliation is way too much of the former and not nearly enough of the latter.

In the movie version at least, efforts to render the hero larger than life result in a story that is less than convincing.

The elements of a good story are here, and the talent to tell it is more than willing. The movie just never quite gets there.

The case is a gut punch to the American dream, and yet Little Pink House is a tepid viewing experience, in part because it rarely invites us into these homes so we can lament their loss.

It's a noble attempt at meaningful comedy-drama, but Braff struggles with shifting tones while mismanaging his own character. It's easier to appreciate the effort than it is to enjoy the film.

There is a really cool idea at the heart of the film, which brings together the cast of the original “Jurassic Park” movies and the cast of the latest bunch from the “Jurassic World” ones for the first time. Although they’re kind of like guests staying in different parts of the same hotel who just happen to run into each other at dinner.

You certainly won't be bored. And if you go into Nerve looking for a thrill ride, you won't be disappointed. If you're hoping for more, that's a different story.

Has a big-name cast, a cute premise and... and... hang on, thinking here. Nope. That's about it.

It's all wildly uneven, but some bits really are funny. Ferrell plays his usual clueless character, but he's good at it. And it turns out a toned-down Hart is a funnier Hart. But Cohen can't keep a handle on it all. Worse, he has no feel for when the satire goes too far.

There are too many explosions, too many blaring sonic effects, too many break-ups-and-make-ups, too many villains. And not enough heart.

The final resolution of the plot is actually rather intriguing, but the journey to it is so slow and predictable that most moviegoers will have long since lost interest.

The first scene in Jack Reacher: Never Go Back promises something interesting but delivers something considerably less. That’s a problem with the whole movie.

The best thing “Day Shift” has going for it is the best things the dopey ’80s films had going for them — a willingness not to take itself too seriously. And that only gets you so far. But who knows, maybe in 40 years this will look better in retrospect, too.

Krasinski is likable and Martindale can make the lamest dialogue sound believable. But even they can't make us invest in characters that are nothing more than a collection of stock quirks and tics stuck in wildly contrived situations.

Woodley makes Tris easy to root for — only she and Winslet seem to be having any fun — but it's hard to become invested in the convoluted, rambling story. And at two hours and 19 minutes, it rambles for a while.

Overall the film never finds its footing, with its awkward shifts in tone accentuating the unease. There’s something a little off, and it’s Carell. We want to like him in comedies. It’s a big part of what’s made him a star. The Incredible Burt Wonderstone never really gives us the chance.

Much is promised and too little is delivered. What is delivered are intense performances by two terrific actors.

Despite its sparseness and haunting photography, the film proves to be little more than a home-invasion thriller low on thrills.

At first, it’s fun and shiny, then you’re left with a crumpled mess on the floor.

As with nearly everything else in The Campaign, a little goes a long way, until it finally just goes on too long, period.

Kick-Ass 2 has a mean-spirited vigilante streak the first film lacked (it seemed more concerned with justice, in its way), as well as a fatigue. It’s still funny, particularly when Hit Girl spews profanity and wields weapons. It’s just not as good.

The gossip will die down, presumably, but the film will remain. And what will stand out about it in the future is what stands out now: Pugh absolutely nailing the role of a woman trapped in a too-good-to-be-true scenario, and slowly coming around to that realization.

The film has lots of effects and action and loads of Chris Pratt. What it needs more of is heart.

Kudos to Blomkamp for not shying away from social issues in his films, but here the execution doesn’t live to the intentions.

Miele also made the similar "Scatter My Ashes at Bergdorf's," a look at another ultra-expensive store in New York. That film, however, did a better job as a social investigation into how the other half lives. Crazy about Tiffany's is more shallow, as befits so many of the interview subjects.

The bad news - it's not interesting enough to be a disaster.

Lane is an endearing performer, but she needs something, anything, to work with. Here, she's getting by on sheer likability.

While this version, listed as a "prequel," has a few gross-out moments, it lacks any sense of warmth. Which might be an odd criticism of a horror movie set in Antarctica, but there you have it.

Like all faith-based films, it’s preaching to the choir. But as cinematic sins go, Hollywood regularly commits worse.

Andrea Pallaoro’s frigid portrait of a woman in crisis is more a calculated exercise in formalism than an achievement in storytelling. His well-composed images of loneliness are cerebrally satisfying but lack emotional heft.

Yes, it’s a musical — strictly authenticity isn’t a requirement. Emotional authenticity, on the other hand, is. And that’s what Dear Evan Hansen could use more of.

It’s exceptionally well made, daring and experimental, with a powerful performance from Ana de Armas at its center. At its everything, really — she dominates the film, as well she should. But the film is also too long, too self-indulgent, just too much. It is a marathon of misery.

It's all too much, and it's too hard to follow. Less is more, and this movie proves it.

The story simply doesn't stand up, with its combination of well-worn plot elements and confusing red herrings -- or maybe they're just details that don't add up.

There are some funny bits, to be sure. You can’t bring this bunch together without a few hits among the misses. But despite McKinnon’s best efforts, it’s just not enough. This is one Office Christmas Party you can skip.

The movie falls flat, playing like the best-cast bland romantic comedy you've ever seen.

August: Osage County is at times affecting (Cooper’s tender moment with Cumberbatch, who has slept through an important event, is especially so), but mostly it’s all about actors acting and never letting us forget they’re doing so.

If there is a saving grace to Monte Carlo, it's that the frothy film strikes a nice balance between the ridiculous and the, well, slightly less ridiculous.

That Freak Show is not the joyous gay party it aspires to be is a testament to squandered opportunities. For all the aces up its sleeve, Freak Show never quite lets its freak flag fly.

Aside from cast changes and some plot tweaks, there’s not much new to see here. James is an engaging presence, but as this season with the Lakers proved, he alone just isn’t enough.

Reynolds is a good actor but he's miscast. Mirren is great, and she makes Woman in Gold better than it otherwise would have been. Still, it's just kind of boring and straightforward, even if its inspiration is not.

It's a maudlin, superficial exercise in obsession masquerading as a heartfelt romance and study of grief, and character development is sorely lacking. Although well-acted, particularly by Annette Bening, the story feels contrived.

An American Pickle is the kind of movie that never quite decides what it wants to be. Pick a lane, as they say. Otherwise, you’re all over the place.

Writers and directors Aron Gaudet and Gita Pullapilly can’t seem to decided whether to make an offbeat comedy about two under-appreciated women turning to crime or a mismatched buddy cop comedy. So they made both. It’s not a seamless fit.

If you found "Shrek the Third," the third film in the "Shrek" franchise, tired, it will probably come as no surprise that Shrek Forever After is downright exhausted.

Told in such predictable and bland fashion it dulls the effect. And this in a movie with Robert Duvall, Lucas Black and Melissa Leo.

This isn't even really a sequel to the hilarious 2009 comedy smash set in Las Vegas. It's virtually the same movie, just transferred to another continent and with the raunch wildly amped up.

First-time writer-director Peter Sattler keeps things glum and unsentimental, then tosses it all up in the air with a syrupy ending that derails everything. On another movie, the high-corn finale might have worked; here, it just feels patently false.

Jolie's performance so overshadows the rest of the cast (and the rest of the movie) that you sometimes feel as if the other characters are, like us, just standing around watching her. This is not, however, the fault of the other actors. It's the fault of screenwriter Linda Woolverton, who doesn't give them much to do that's challenging or interesting.

For the most part, the movie's rhythms feel slightly off -- there are long stretches without a laugh -- and there is a mean-spirited air to the whole thing.

This "Transformers" is better than the second film (though that's not saying much), with some enjoyable bits here and there.

If you’re looking for a brisk, compelling story, maybe not. It’s as if there is a third version of this film, something in between the two in terms of tone and fan service, that would be the best way to tell this story. That’s unlikely to happen, of course. How many “Justice League” movies do we really need, anyway?

There are moments of real power and beauty in Ava DuVernay’s film, based on the much-loved Madeleine L’Engle novel. You just have to work too hard to find them.

It’s a big disappointment, not least because of its talented cast, and Bell’s obvious talents as a filmmaker.

Barely Lethal has some laughs, and will probably serve nicely as a movie you can land on for a few minutes when it shows up on cable. But it slides into the rote generic-teen-comedy mode too soon to be anything more.

When Going the Distance works, it works well, and it feels genuine. But like a bad relationship, the movie will continually let you down.

Relying wholly on good casting and the charisma of its actors, big and small, to elevate too-familiar material, the film’s stale humor hinges on two faulty premises: That the suburbs are inscrutable and that the people who live in them are clueless.

Destroyer frequently zombie-shuffles into unintentional hilarity, confusing darkness for depth, ugliness for complexity, convolution for smarts. It is just too self-serious to take seriously.

The interviews throughout are the best part of the movie - the least heavy-handed, yet most effective, element. There is a message here of the necessity for tolerance, but 8: The Mormon Proposition would have been better had its makers presented it in a more consistent, artful fashion.

Bullock’s performance anchors the movie — and nearly drags it down. Ocean’s 8 has the cast, and the cultural moment, it needs. It just doesn’t do enough with it.

Although it’s not impossible to mix humor and violence, as “Midnight Run” proves, it isn’t easy — as 3 Days to Kill proves. Points for effort all the way around, and welcome back, Costner. Let’s hope things get better from here.

Johnson is his usual amiable self, but the best thing about the movie is Campbell.

Red Right Hand wants to be a kudzu-covered, Southern-fried crime story, a morality tale set in the “hills” as rich as pig knuckles from a jar in a juke joint. Mostly it’s just a dopey mob movie with Southern accents of varying quality — predictable and cliched.

Hotel Transylvania 3 is a harmless enough excuse for a couple hours of air-conditioned entertainment, which is all some people ask of a kid’s film. But there’s something bleak about its banality.

Despite competent performances all around, you never feel much chemistry between the actors.

American Pastoral is a movie, like the Pulitzer Prize-winning Philip Roth novel on which it is based, dense with passion, politics and historical import. But Ewan McGregor, directing his first feature, never brings the film fully to life.

Kosinski never manages full control of the film’s tone, which is essential in a story like this.

Breaking In is a shallow nod to female empowerment, not the embodiment of it.

There's not a lot of humor here, just violence and more violence. The acting is fine enough - Whitaker, of the talented bunch, seems to be having the best time - but the slicing and dicing overpowers the cast, the story and everything else.

The Finest Hours is set in the early '50s. But did it really need to feel like it was made during the Eisenhower era?

Beirut is inoffensive in its familiarity, a handsome enough thriller to pass the time. What it’s lacking are stakes.

It's the Walmart of feel-good family films: accessible, cheaply made, useful in a pinch and full of American flags.

Everything is lathered with a syrupy, string-laden musical score designed to gnaw at a viewer's tear ducts. It's about as subtle as having an off-screen narrator yell "Start crying!" before big scenes, and probably as effective.

Along the way there is some really gory violence and some really cliched cop-drama dialogue, with acting to match. But as long as Rock is on the screen, which is almost constantly, it at least keeps your interest.

Timothy Hutton is a good actor. So whom to blame for Multiple Sarcasms?

Director Ruben Fleischer, who directed Eisenberg in the worlds-better "Zombieland," never finds that kind of successful groove here, instead bouncing from one set piece to another, with vastly inconsistent results.

It's visually stunning, well written and the acting is top-notch. But without context, the plot falls flat, leaving behind an unsettling and bizarre film.

This is a funny movie, in places.

Visually, the film is sumptuous and the costumes are suitably wow-inspiring, but the humans are a blah bunch.

It's the PG-13 version of "The Hangover," and more than anything, that's just boring.

A pretty good action movie for about 45 minutes. Unfortunately, it lasts 106.

In To the Wonder [Malick] doesn’t give us enough to work with, leaving us with a thing of great beauty, but not much more.

The found-footage approach loses its shine quickly.

the performances, even from some really good actors, are wooden, the huge CGI effects are a distraction and the best thing about the movie is the one thing that, other than the casting, will probably make the most people angry: God is a kid.

Earnest in its ambition but dopey in its execution, Winter’s Tale never takes flight.

Writer and director Jeremy Leven’s film is meant to be a trifle, a status which it achieves, but it’s nothing more than that.

There’s a certain kinetic charm to the first half of the movie, a freewheeling silliness to these outsized characters that makes you curious to see just how wrong things will go. But as the weightlifters’ plot spirals out of control, so does the movie’s.

There is an element of sadness to this story that’s necessary to make it effective. Take that away and you’re left with a cute kids’ tale that doesn’t trust younger audiences to process the elements that can be difficult — and that make it better.

Mira Nair has crafted a handsome but clubfooted film that lurches through predictable hot spots. It most disappoints as a thriller, the flashbacks and voiceovers and romantic entanglements so dominating the proceedings you forget that someone is bound and gagged in real time.

Two narcissists do not a couple make, and without any actual relationship, there really isn't a movie.

Justice League is, if flawed, at least a step in the right direction. But there's still a journey ahead.

The Cobbler definitely won't please the audience for Sandler's mainstream blockbusters, and it's unlikely to win him new fans among the indie intelligentsia, either.

Doesn't really know what it wants to be. Morel would have done better to remember the "to thine own self be true" bit, and stayed with the dunderheaded shoot-'em-up vibe, with Travolta having a blast, often literally.

Although it's not as bad as it could be, the film is still middle-of-the-road fare for comedy fans who are already firmly in James' corner, delivering the sort of brainless laughs that James is famous for. [18 Oct 2012]

McConaughey has become one of the more interesting actors around, someone whose next role is always worth checking out. But in Gold, the balance is off somehow — he’s acting up a storm, but a muddled story and hard-to-figure character ultimately betray him.

Most of the time, it simply coasts along at the level of a typical Lifetime TV movie.

In "The Player," Robert Altman carves up Hollywood with knowing, surgical precision. Cronenberg is a gifted filmmaker in his own right, but here he takes a meat-ax to the place. He gets what he's after but leaves quite a mess.