A multilayered documentary that explores music and friendship, and in its own quiet way, the battle with fame.

Dark as it is, the humor makes it work, especially Greene's typically witty and compassionate portrayal of Mogie.

Pure spectacle has since been subsumed into narrative filmmaking, but the cinema of attractions is always present, especially in modern action movies, and there may be no greater current example of this than xXx: The Return of Xander Cage.

An uneven mix of genres that, even when it misses the mark, gets points for originality and a good beat.

While the world and the characters of "Detective Pikachu" are incredibly fun, the story within that world suffers. Most of the exposition is provided in flashback-style holographic recreations, and the action sequences are so inane, chaotic and incomprehensible that you may find your mind wandering to grocery lists rather than the film's stakes.

Are the results funny? In the margins, yes.

Men in Black: International isn’t bad; it’s an improvement over “Men in Black II” (2002) and “Men in Black 3” (2012), sequels that even its makers may have forgotten.

Black and Awkwafina and Hoffman do their jobs, but the jokes have a way of arriving like jokes, and sounding like jokes, but not quite being jokes. This is an action movie foremost, which is fine.

The notion that stories are the lies that tell the truth isn't new -- even Shakespeare knew that -- but the central conceit of "let's save lives by putting on a play" seems not only artificial, but also hollow.

Moments of this film reminded me of Alexander Payne's great library of male dysfunction -- "Election," "About Schmidt," "Sideways" -- not because King of the Corner actually reaches Payne's plane, but because I wish it had tried.

Just cute enough for some tastes, too cute by half for others.

Harsh Times, is almost a good, salty urban thriller.

Moana 2 is more of an action movie with a few accidental musical numbers of varying quality.

Some actors are dinner. Kevin Kline is dessert, and his comic brio saves the film version of The Extra Man from its limitations.

Around the halfway point it starts getting interesting and the people who put it together are at least working in a realm of reasonable intelligence and wit and respect for the audience.

Works better as a sociological study than as a gripping drama.

The appeal of this The Addams Family, which doesn’t break the mold, is simply to spend some more time in this gently spooky world, which is a gateway for budding creepsters and goths. It’s refreshing that it doesn’t try to overreach the limitations of its story, but it’s so slight, it merely whets the appetite for more Addams fare, rather than providing anything truly satisfying.

Of the 141 minutes in The Judge, roughly 70 work well, hold the screen and allow a ripe ensemble cast the chance to do its thing, i.e., act. The other 71 are dominated by narrative machinery going ka-THUNKITA-thunkita-thunkita.

The folks on the screen are the whole show, and this genial showcase for standup comic Jo Koy has the advantage of showing off a wealth of Asian/Pacific American talent, pretty badly undervalued by establishment Hollywood.

I’m flummoxed as to why the movie left me feeling up in the air, as opposed to over the moon. Partly, I think, it’s a matter of how Anderson’s sense of humor rubs up against that of the book’s author, Roald Dahl.

For sheer laughs, Willard and Piddock take the trophy.

Though the result is a distant, hyperstylized exaggeration of form and movement, the film itself turns repetitive and exhaustive.

If the key performances in Beautiful Boy were any less honest, the film's half-formed suppositions would undo it utterly.

This movie, an efficient time-passer at least until the plot starts obsessing over the fate of the family dog, is more into gadgets than people.

By the end we are left with a mildly amusing comedy and the lingering memory of a sterling cast that deserved better material.

The film plot about the needy kid who redeems a male loner has been done to death, and on the surface, Martian Child just looks like another entry in the genre, a close follower to “About A Boy.”

Ultimately, the weight of the film falls on Goofy's powerful shoulders. He does his best, but like Norma Desmond, he can only do so much.

The kids are magnetic.