Checking subtlety at the door, Monteverde goes for broke on the emotional-manipulation front. Perhaps that's OK as a device for illustrating a parable, but it doesn't make for much of a movie.

Lee Toland Krieger's film masquerades for a while as a romantic drama brainier than most, getting good mileage out of an intriguingly odd performance from Blake Lively. But ultimately, the movie relies far too much on contrivance and coincidence.

The story takes some unexpected turns, which Crowe handles well, without overplaying them. Overall, The Water Diviner is a solid effort, a good, old-fashioned movie when it's not delving into soap opera.

It's great when a movie messes with your head. And Ex Machina, screenwriter Alex Garland's directorial debut, does just that, pretty much from start to finish. The writer of "28 Days Later" and "Sunshine" purports to examine A.I., or artificial intelligence. What he's really after is something at once more exotic and more relatable — and infinitely less predictable: human nature.

Although it's enjoyable, actor Chris Messina's directorial debut is somehow less than the sum of its parts, wading only through the shallow end of familiar human conflicts resolved too conveniently to satisfy.

Monkey Kingdom is a delightful gambol, visually stunning and educational without feeling like it, with a propulsive drama about escaping one's lowly social class at its core that inspires reflection on some uncomfortable truths about ourselves.

It's interesting to wonder how the film will age, given the short shelf life of technology. In two years all this might seem as dated as a dial-up modem, technology not nearly advanced enough to support the action here. But for now Unfriended lives in the moment, as do its characters.

Beyond the Reach is a misfire, one of those movies that never quite rises to the level of guilty pleasure.

So much of "The Hunting Ground" describes the behavior of college students at their worst. Watching Pino and Clark find some measure of peace and healing while offering the same to others shows it at its best.

True Story never really soars in the way it might, but the performances more than keep it aloft.

For an R-rated romance about a young writer's affair with a sultry French siren, 5 to 7 generates all the heat of an Easy-Bake Oven. It aims to sizzle but quickly fizzles.

One of those message movies that never uses subtlety when a sledgehammer is handy.

It is a fascinating film, and if it skimps somewhat on the moral complications of this kind of art, it holds nothing back in terms of volume: Image after image grabs our eye and often grips our throat.

An Honest Liar is a fascinating look at what the truth means, and how it means different things to different people. It's also a reminder that no one has a monopoly on it. Not even the Amazing Randi.

"I didn't hate it" isn't a high watermark for praise, but when it comes to most Sparks adaptations, it's practically as good as winning an Oscar.

It's Kikuchi who carries the film. She gives Kumko a sense of dignity and strength in the face of absurdity, and does so with few words.

We get a sharp look at getting older, growing up and assuming responsibility. The fedora is optional (and not recommended).

What's interesting is how Jacquot treats the material. It is, by any measure, a romantic drama. But he uses the score, by Bruno Coulais, as if the film were something else altogether.

The film itself begins to feel like Gray, a pretty bird in a gilded cage with nowhere to fly.

If you like a little bit more in a movie — say, characters that are mildly interesting or a plot that's a wee bit logical — stay far away.

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 wrenching stuff. If bits and pieces feel contrived (and they do), overall the message is strong — and important.

Pacino and his director don't get back to basics — given that Pacino plays the title character, an aging rock star who long ago sold out, that wouldn't make sense. But the actor brings such a charming attitude to the role that his performance feels far more genuine than the story itself.

This is a man who knows things, and Hawke creates an inspiring platform that allows him to share (at least some of) them.

It's terrific. It's about many things, but dread infuses them all. You won't be grossed out. You'll be creeped out. And that's a lot more satisfying.

For all its energy, razzle-dazzle and whiz-bang technology, it doesn't know how to tell a simple story or cobble together three-dimensional characters, and that's a problem not even the best of 3-D glasses can fix.

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.

Civil-rights movements are never really over because they're never really won. She's Beautiful When She's Angry doesn't overtly make that case until its closing minutes, but when it does, it's made all the more powerful by the footage that preceded it.