To stay fresh, you have to evolve. Rodriguez and Miller have stayed the same.

From its bland title to its fair-to-middlin' story, mediocre is the word that fits How Do You Know perfectly.

The problem is that almost everything in the film feels either forced or false, so the tears aren't earned.

Yes, there are sex scenes in the film, quite a few. But for a movie where people are naked for a large chunk of time and play at bondage and dominance (without ever really seeming all that committed to it), it sure is boring.

Rebel in the Rye is Hollywood regular Danny Strong’s feature-film directorial debut, and it fumbles for a voice in tracking the life of a writer renowned for his.

It's an interesting idea that loses steam as it gains gore. The development of the story is much better than the payoff. It's fun while it lasts.

Whether you like The Meg depends on how much you like seeing Jason Statham in and out of a wetsuit, doing action-hero things. He's certainly good at it, and he's the best thing about the movie, not that the competition is particularly fierce.

The kind of fantasy that a 15-year-old boy would love, although parents probably should keep younger teens far, far away. This movie pushes the boundaries of its R rating about as far as they can go.

The Last Days on Mars isn’t a disaster. Robinson, in fact, shows some promise. It’s just not much of anything, a movie ultimately as barren as the landscape on which it takes place.

How you feel about Knight and Day will depend largely on your feelings about Cruise. If you can't divorce his performance from his off-screen antics, well, that's a problem, here and elsewhere. If you're willing to watch what's on-screen and leave it at that, there's fun to be had.

Despite their palpable comedic chops, Hart and Cranston are unable to make this unlikely and stereotypical pair likable.

Freeman is back in Reiner's latest, The Magic of Belle Isle, which has all the pathos and saccharine of "The Bucket List" but little of the humor. It's earnest, predictable and disposable.

[Estevez] still hasn't progressed beyond the film-school basics, but somehow he managed to recruit an all-star cast of (presumably) like-minded activists for The Public.

IF integrates stunning animation, comedy and emotion for a beautiful result, a perfect choice for your next family movie night — or if you just want to relive what being a kid was like.

It's clear this movie is for a certain audience, but at least the film embraces its genre and the jokes stick the landing. It's definitely worth a watch for fans of movies with an early 2000s rom-com aesthetic.

Give writer and director John Logan points for creativity, exceptional inclusion and casting Kevin Bacon. But the movie could have used a lot more of the camp-slasher horror part.

Watching unpleasant characters onscreen isn't always a fun experience, so casting Reeves and Ryder is genius. They're both full-on movie stars: charismatic, wildly photogenic, the whole nine yards. But they're also good actors, and they make these two neurotic misanthropes quite engaging.

If nothing else it’ll dazzle your senses, even on a small screen.

It’s a movie devoid of storytelling momentum, conflict and, worst of all, much in the way of laughs.

Kevin Kline makes a terrific Errol Flynn. He just picked the wrong movie to prove it.

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.

Black or White is more remarkable for what it isn't than for what it is. For example, it isn't ripe with drama. It isn't a thoughtful exploration of racial identity in America. It isn't a compelling look at judicial bias and class conflict. It is, instead, a movie that's every bit as oversimplified and obvious as its title.

Vincent Grashaw's film, although well-meaning (as a postscript reminds us), tries too hard, both in content and form.

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

It's all-around generic, made notable by its weirdly schizophrenic tone. Sometimes it strives to be a character-driven thriller in the Jason Bourne mold. In other moments, it goes for over-the-top action and violence. But it's never very exciting.

It’s too bad that these maternal figures aren’t given much more to do except worry about their progeny in “The Son.”

It's not a fascinating (or even particularly interesting) character study — the film never lets you get close enough to its leading man to understand his damage — but it's nevertheless an intermittently moving one.

There is a sweetness to Radnor's character and to his film. What there is not is a sense of urgency, of a desire to find out what happens next.

The overall feel is one of a generic, feel-good drama, albeit one with Harrison Ford stomping around most of the time as if someone kicked him in the shins. One suspects that this is a story that deserved better.

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

Overall the film is goofy, slight, without a truly deep thought in its pretty little head. And for a movie with vampires and werewolves, the only scary thing is in the title - "Part 1," which means "Part 2" is on its way. Shudder.

It comprises some 20 talking heads, each pretty much saying the same thing, interspersed with film of children dressed up as mythical heroes, enacting the stages of the "hero's journey."

There are a lot of funny people in Brave New Jersey, but the movie is not very funny.

The best thing about the movie is Matthew Rhys.

Ole Bornedal's film hits enough high notes to make it a worthwhile addition to the exorcism-film heap, somewhere in the lower middle.

Depp's performance is still one of the few bright spots in the movie. Richards is back, too, in an all-too-brief appearance as Sparrow's father.

Jolie Pitt is going for a European cinema vibe here, but all the smoking, drinking and speaking in French can’t disguise the fact that there isn’t a lot going on here. Filmmakers reserve every right to demand patience from their audiences, but they have to provide a worthwhile payoff in the end. By the Sea simply doesn’t.

A Minecraft Movie is a fun romp that kids, whether they're fans of the game or not, will likely enjoy. The missed opportunity is the older generations of players. There's not enough storytelling or humor to get us invested in Hess' Minecraft world.

"Southern fried" is as good a phrase as any to describe The Paperboy...It fits, really, because it causes the same reaction. You eat a mess of fried okra or tater tots, and it's tasty going down. It's only after you're done that you feel a little queasy. [18 Oct 2012]

Unlike, say, Val Kilmer's Jim Morrison in "The Doors," Thomas makes no attempt to create a convincing facsimile of Hank Williams, which is just as well, since he bears little resemblance to the sinewy singer.

Paolo Virzi’s film, based on a novel by Michael Zadoorian, holds few surprises, leaving us with some enjoyable set pieces in a disappointing movie.

Granted, the film lacks the kicky element of surprise that made the first movie so enjoyable, but it's hard to gripe too much. Taken 2 aims to be a fast-paced, workmanlike sequel that shows off its charismatic leading man, and that's exactly what it does.

Intruders promises much but delivers relatively little.

Mean-spirited.

For 90 minutes we’re presented with idiot characters who do terrible things to themselves and each other, and in its final gasp the movie tries to retrofit them into heroes.

The finale's energy level and actor buy-in makes it vastly more enjoyable than the rest of the film.

If Eastwood wanted to use the real men, a documentary would have been just as powerful and more dramatically satisfying. Instead, the acting is distracting. The film’s intentions are sterling. Its execution, not so much.

The zombification of Austen’s material is frequently funny and sometimes clever, but the film stumbles hard when it loses sight of just how ridiculous it is.

Offers valuable historical, social and political context, particularly if you aren't an international-news junkie.

What a mess. Its meandering plot draws attention to the alarming lack of laughs — not what you look for in a supposed comedy.

Paint is one of those good ideas that doesn’t quite make a good movie. Until it does.

The story lacks the same intensity of the original. Not that everyone will have seen the first one. Those who have will almost certainly find the new version lacking. Those who haven’t will find a solid mystery, nothing more. Given the cast, that’s a letdown.

Gerard Butler boasts an engaging screen presence that can make even junky movies fun. Maybe it’s the blustery swagger or his jokey attitude that essentially screams, “I’m not taking any of this too seriously.” Either way, it works, especially in Angel Has Fallen.

Several good performances are left adrift, as the characters roam from scene to scene, singing (quite well) as they go. Even as a sort of long-form music video, it's disjointed.

Credit Joris-Peyrafitte for creating the dark, grungy world of the movie, and for making it compelling enough that you don’t want to flee it immediately. You may not want to revisit it — this is not the sort of movie that demands repeat viewings — but “The Good Mother” is a perfectly fine film.

Seriously, the movie is pretty awful, but Johnson, as ever, seems to be having a ball, even when he’s all serious and concerned and shot up and beaten up and building-dropped-upon.

You see this cast, you expect to see a lot of violent action. And in that regard, The Expendables delivers, and then some. In this case, then, the old saying applies: Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.

Of the bunch, Plaza, Minghella and Parker fare best, though Parker's Ben is weighed down with cliches. Alex ostensibly is the focal point of the film, but Ritter is relegated mostly to observer status, healing while watching the melodramas unfold around him. A few of them are interesting. But not enough, not in a story that seems familiar because, after all, it is.

A greeting card set in motion, Chasing Mavericks cheeses up the story of real-life surfing phenom Jay Moriarity so thickly you could spread it on a cracker.

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.

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.

Meanwhile, the Russos are ensuring that you never forget you’re watching a movie, and a stylized one at that. Note the names of the banks Holland’s character robs, for instance, or other little details. Granted, the person telling the story — Holland’s character — is an unreliable narrator for much of the film. But there’s a fine line between spicing things up and showing off.

At its best Power Rangers plays a little like a low-rent “Breakfast Club.” Unfortunately it’s not always at its best, and when it’s not, you get exactly what you’d expect: generic teen hero fare.

This trip isn’t so notable. It’s not bad. Some bits are enjoyable. But ultimately, other than some genuinely impressive visuals, it never makes a compelling-enough case to justify its existence.

The cornpone wisdom overflows from the screen during Joyful Noise, like maple syrup on your grandmama's flapjacks.

MacFarlane's film is too broad, too dumb, too offensive to justify the meager laughs it generates.

Levine shows some of the promise that would serve him so well later, but beyond an intriguing look and an initial attempt to put a new spin on the teen-horror genre, “Mandy Lane” winds up being pretty conventional.

There's nothing particularly off-putting about the movie. It's all right. But neither is there anything especially compelling. In the context of this cast, another descriptive word comes to mind: disappointing.

The Marksman is not awful. It’s not particularly good, either, but it’s not the disaster it should have been. Part of that has to do with the way Lorenz stages the action — well-choreographed and tense. Part of it has to do with Perez, who combines being adorable with a kind of hard-won wisdom beyond his years that makes for a completely winning character.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a movie in search of a reason to exist. Despite a needlessly excessive running time, it never finds one.

The Miracle Season is a pleasant surprise, the rare inspirational sports movie that actually earns its tears.

"Unfun" isn't a real word, but boy, it sure describes The Legend of Tarzan.

It’s better than a “Transformers” movie. Is that damning with faint praise? I’m not sure it’s praise at all. But it is true. Pacific Rim Uprising is, at least for about half the movie, better than a Michael Bay exercise in eardrum shattering. The sequel isn’t as good as the original, however, which probably isn’t a surprise.

Some may dismiss Heart of Stone as another rote action film. But to really look at it, appreciate the character of Rachel Stone and truly compare her with action men, she holds her own.

There are some nice messages of inclusion, but they’re crowded out by a big dumb action scene at the end.

If the story is somewhat lacking, Cox is terrific.

Delivery Man means well, but it’s innocuous to the point of non-existence. In trying to please everyone, the film runs the risk of pleasing no one.

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.

A stripped-down affair, from title to characters to plot. It never strives to be more, instead concentrating on making the most of its self-imposed limitations.

It's not a usual story: a down on its luck team that has its own way of doing things turns a jaded coach into a human with a heart. We've all seen that before. But, Waititi's singular style makes it a joy to watch and a film worth cheering for.

DeCubellis sets up a satisfying, stylish mystery, populated by striking characters and situations.

Brutal, sadistic yet well-made statement about how violence is portrayed in media and our reaction to it.

Mortal Engines is an entertaining movie if you don’t ask to many questions of the story and stick to what’s put in front of you onscreen.

Into the Storm plays like a special-effects demonstration in search of a movie, but you have to give it to the filmmakers: They take no half-measures.

We’re the Millers plays like a “Saturday Night Live” skit that goes on too long.

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.

The Freemans’ minivan is moving 35 miles per hour, max, in every scene set in the car. They needed a lot more horsepower in order to convey a sense of urgency and thrill, and I’m not just talking about the van.

Yes, questions regarding violence and mayhem are drowned out by violence and mayhem. Such is the superhero life as directed by Zack Snyder. There is no problem that can't be solved with a cranium-rattling explosion or two.

It all falls flat. Not completely — there is simply too much talent involved for the film to fail completely.

In fairness, you can say that Mortal Kombat is pretty much exactly what you expect it to be. It’s clearly meant as the first film in a renewed franchise. But for me, it’s game over.

If it weren’t for his voice, Kutcher would have been the ideal choice to star in Jobs, a well-meant but ultimately unsurprising biopic.

The Losers does a perfectly serviceable job of achieving its low ambitions.

It's paper thin, floating away when it's over without leaving a strong impression one way or another.

If you're willing to accept Killer Elite as a shoot-'em-up action movie with good actors taking the spots of the usual lunk heads (but spouting the usual nonsense), you'll be pleased with the film.

Among the many historical documentaries on Israel there are to choose from, this one is tantamount to two hours of footnotes.

Director Wes Ball's film is a mad dash from one place to the next, with little time in between for rest, recuperation or plot development.

McCormick is particularly grating in upholding her half of the romantic duo. Sure, she can dance, but act?

The purpose of San Andreas is not to make us think, but to make us gape, to pummel us with effect and effect until we finally give in. Fair enough. Uncle. I need a Tylenol anyway.