Free Fire frequently becomes a messy blur of ricochets and one-liners. Fortunately, the cast is appealing enough -- and the characters interesting enough -- to use those one-liners to maximum effect, thus holding things together reasonably well.

Against all odds, Gifted nicely accomplishes what it sets out to do.

"Fast and Furious" movies are supposed to be unchallenging, but Fate of the Furious is full-on brain-dead.

"The Lost Village" is pure Saturday-morning stuff. And that's both a good thing and a bad thing.

So, yes, Land of Mine is a World War II movie -- but it's not likely a World War II movie you've seen before.

It is a reasonably clever, fairly high-concept 'toon that boasts a satisfying emotional component.

If nothing else, the dramatic comedy The Last Word provides one thing: It gives Shirley MacLaine a great role in which to sink her teeth. That turns out to be a gift not only to the Hollywood veteran but to audiences as well.

It's more than a little ironic, then, that the one thing missing from director Craig Robinson's often-amusing, frequently episodic film is just that: a resonant emotional core.

As she tells that story, Asante gets a little lost in the weeds here and there in the political machinations, which don't always make for a riveting narrative and tends to slow the film's forward momentum. Even as it does, the love story between Seretse and Ruth serves nicely as the film's foundation.

It's a heck of a cast, although the hands-down scene-stealer is John C. Reilly, in a gem of a comic-relief role that, in the interest of remaining spoiler-free, is probably best undescribed here.

It's R-rated because it has grown-up things to say -- things about mortality, aging, guilt, regret, and about what happens when superheroes, tired of being superheroes, start thinking very dark, very human thoughts.

The Red Turtle -- without saying a word -- offers much more than the standard animated film. It offers food for thought, cause for contemplation, and an appreciation for the beauty of being.

While it shows fleeting moments of promise, there's precious little great about The Great Wall. Instead, it should be called "The Ridiculous Wall."

John Wick: Chapter Two is still an exceedingly dumb guilty-pleasure film, with its high body count, shockingly bloody violence and creative comic-book carnage. But that hotel, known as The Continental, and the structure it provides the film, goes a long way to helping John Wick: Chapter 2 become its own distinct, ultraviolent thing.

The result is a film that is at once sobering and thoughtful -- and, yes, uncomfortable, at times. But it's a necessary uncomfortable.

Maybe it would work better if the script -- which is credited to four screenwriters; never a great sign -- was actually funny.

There are things about it that will catch the eye, that will pique your interest. Just don't make the mistake of expecting a big payoff.

If Split does one thing, it's to show that "The Visit" wasn't a fluke. If it does another thing, it's to make me intrigued to see what he has in store for us next.

Formally, Berg's film is at its root a police procedural, albeit an exceptionally well-executed one.

Just as importantly, though, is the tone of Melfi's film...which blends humor and emotion into the proceedings, to heartwarming effect.

The sum total is no more filling than the popcorn you'll overpay for upon entering the theater. But, like that popcorn, Sing has empty-calorie, crowd-pleasing appeal.

Tyldum's "Twlight Zone"-tinged action-romance is a mass-appeal crowd-pleaser, the kind of made-for-the-holidays movie that holds a little something for everyone. Even better, being neither a sequel nor a remake, it's got something few sci-fi films do nowadays: originality.

Larrain's film offers something human, something insightful, and something altogether unforgettable.

La La Land is a film with strikingly broad appeal. Whether you're a "Star Wars" geek or a hopeless romantic, a jazz fan or somebody who complains they just don't make 'em like they used to anymore, you'll la-la love it.

Visually and tonally, Miss Sloane -- like Chastain's one-note performance, in which she does little but bark and glower -- is slick but soulless, a film that takes itself far too seriously and misjudges how smart it really is.

Opening a window into a wounded soul, it reminds us that beneath even the most brusque, hard-to-approach exterior often lies a human being bearing the scars of real, sometimes devastating human experiences. Also like "Moonlight," it is one of the best films of 2016, and one not to be missed.

Along the way, Bleed for This rarely, if ever, surprises. Younger -- working from a script he wrote -- never feints, never dodges, never does anything unexpected. Consequently, his film never delivers anything resembling a knockout blow.

For most of its two-hour running time, Almost Christmas is merely almost funny.

The result is an unconventional film that exists in a class by itself to this point in 2016.

There are movies based on real events that must be embellished in order to make them work on the big screen. Mel Gibson's World War II drama Hacksaw Ridge is not such a movie. In fact, it's the opposite.

Howard's film, particularly early on, ends up being too fast, too dense and too smart for its own good. Keeping moviegoers guessing is one thing. Keeping them confused is quite another.

The result is a well-executed but stubbornly formulaic crime thriller that telegraphs most of its major surprises long before they ever happen. It's not a bad movie, mind you. It's just one that will strike viewers as exceedingly familiar, and as generic as that say-nothing title.

An easy-going gem that is at times funny, at times heartbreaking, at times scary -- but always, unfailingly engaging.

The Birth of a Nation is ultimately involving as a cinematic history lesson. It is its flashes of modern relevance, however, in which it scores most effectively.

With Deepwater Horizon, Berg strikes an unlikely but impressively delicate balance. On one hand, his film honors the men and women killed and injured in the explosion off Louisiana's coast. At the same time, it works just as well as a fast-moving and absorbing disaster drama.

The result is the kind of movie that can be counted on to put a smile on the face of even the casual Beatles fan. In other words: a good laugh.

As a result, while the film is certainly intense at times, it's not some sort of Sam Pekinpah blood-fest.

Stone's characteristic on-his-sleeve political views aren't the problem with the often-sleepy Snowden. Rather, it's that his film – the lag-prone script for which the filmmaker co-wrote with Kieran Fitzgerald – really doesn't tell us much that we don't already know. That'll certainly be the case for anyone who saw director Laura Poitras' Oscar-winning 2014 documentary "Citizenfour," a remarkable bit of filmmaking.

Delivers a rare perfect ending to a perfectly likeable trilogy.

Even if it is at times uncomfortable to watch, The Witness remains riveting, and even important, as an honest and unflinching examination of despair.

It's a dark, troubled world that O'Brien has created, and one that's not without its occasional predictabilities. (As soon as you see Christopher Lloyd in the cast, you know he'll figure into the plot at some point. And you'd be right.) Still, it's one that -- like "Stranger Things" -- proves hard to resist.

Where the original was a goofy, campy bit of stylized storytelling, Lowery's becomes a nicely realized, feel-good love song to fantasy and magic, buoyed by solid, updated visual effects, a strong cast (including two wonderful child actors) and a throwback sense of wide-eyed wonder.

When it comes down to it, there's one overriding factor that lessens the impact of the film's numerous stumbles, and that's this: It's just plain entertaining to see all these warped characters, and all these well-cast actors, bouncing off of one another, interacting with one another, and creating a barely controlled chaos.

The deeply resonant Gleason isn't a football movie. Rather, it traffics in universal themes that effectively drill down to the very core of the human condition. As such, everybody has something to gain from what ends up being a multilayered mediation on life.

While the result is an often fast-moving and very Damon-y Jason Bourne, it doesn't at all feel as original or as well crafted as the series once did.

The problem is that there's nothing of substance to hold together those occasionally fun moments of often-grotesque absurdity.

It is funny at times, it is scary at times, it is downright silly at times, and it is action-packed at times. In its best moments, it's all of those things at once.

Unfortunately, director Jake Szymanski's bad-boy farce from there quickly becomes a textbook example of the law of diminishing returns.

A sweet, harmless bit of big-screen fluff, and one of the more enjoyable, and cuddly, animated films to hit theaters so far this year.

You might love it or you might hate it, but you won't soon forget it -- and you won't be able to say you've seen a movie quite like Swiss Army Man before.

Rather than focusing on the most fascinating part of the story -- that would be the establishment and subsequent dissolution of free state after which the film is named -- his film devolves into a series of belabored points, high-minded pontifications and audience manipulation.

Here's a movie that is far from perfect, far from seamless and far from unassailable. But it manages to be a fun diversion anyway -- and one that will likely leave audiences hungry for more.

This is the kind of movie that almost begs for a second viewing, which, admittedly, isn't always a good thing. In the case of The Lobster, however, it is. It's a very good thing -- good and weird and wonderful.

A winner, through and through.

While infants and imbeciles might get caught up in whirlwind action, most viewers should brace themselves for a less-than-wondrous return to Wonderland.

Once it gets past its lull-prone first half, Neighbors 2 tries to inject a little heart into the proceedings -- which was the secret weapon of the original -- but even those end up feeling stale and phoned-in.

Even if its stumbles a bit with its less-than-satisfying conclusion, the blend of humor, horror and grotesque whimsy on display throughout Tale of Tales combine to create what often feels like some sort of grown-up, far darker cousin to "The Princess Bride."

Those who sit through its talky, belabored first half will be rewarded first and foremost with the finest fight scene of any "Avengers" film to date, one that doubles as a satisfyingly popcorny start to the summer season.

Another feather in the cap of Saulnier, who -- now with two impressive features under his belt as director -- is emerging to become one of the more intriguing new voices in Hollywood.

This is a jazz movie, both in style and in substance, and so, rather, his goal is to try to capture the fog-like essence of Miles.

This unintentionally fractured ends up one big mess. It's a pretty mess, mind you -- which is fitting in a way, given the sordid affair that birthed it -- but a mess all the same.

Favreau's family-friendly fable, a blend of old-school storytelling charm and new-school animation techniques.

It feels very much like part of a big-screen franchise. Couple it with such films as "Donnie Darko" and "Nightcrawler," and you've got a series that collectively could be titled "Inside Jake Gyllenhaal's Head."

Despite the occasional outbreak of tension, it all ends up becoming repetitive as Eye in the Sky gets bogged down in the morality of it all, spinning its wheels for long stretches.

It is powerful, it is affecting and it -- that is, Hiddleston's eerily accurate performance, from start to finish -- is easily the best thing about director Marc Abraham's Shreveport-shot biopic of the country music legend.

This is a movie that, to its detriment, takes itself very, very seriously for most of its running time.

Built on an interesting idea -- but which, unlike Strug, can't quite stick the landing.

Najafi's R-rated London Has Fallen doesn't target the genteel viewer. Rather, it aims squarely for moviegoers who like their action bloody, their fights brutal, their body count sky-high.

It's hard to escape the feeling that Hopkins left a lot on the table -- and that there's a better Jesse Owens film to be told.

What sets Deadpool apart is its overall genre-busting tone, which blends a wealth of meta humor, the wisecracking Reynolds' significant skills with a one-liner, and a genuinely funny script that isn't afraid to offend anyone.

To put it in Austen terms: They will not have the pleasure of understanding what Steers is trying to do here.

Drama is one thing. Resonance is another. Without digging deeply enough, "The Finest Hours" seems content to capture the former while ignoring the latter.

Even with its flaws, the whole exercise makes for an affecting and effective film.

For better and for worse, it's neither better nor worse than the original "Ride Along." That's because it's essentially the same movie.

The Revenant is every bit as technically proficient as Inarritu's "Birdman," a film that made critics swoon with its masterful handling of the filmmaker's daring "one-take" conceit. It manages, however, to do it without the same gimmicky feel.

Few of the characters feel fully fleshed out. McKay's Big Short also lacks a certain nuance in its third act, when McKay's agenda becomes abundantly, ham-handedly clear. Still, it's hard not to be outraged by what is learned.

Concussion is at its best when it's digging into the science of Omalu's work, chronicling his discovery and his subsequent David-vs.-Goliath fight to get people to acknowledge that he was right. Less effective is the portrayal of the personal toll his fight cost him.

A highly enjoyable -- and, for better or for worse, a very Tarantino -- movie.

For a movie like this to last, you've got to have a certain amount of pathos to serve as connective tissue between those jokes. That's where Sisters is most lacking.

With Spotlight, we get a reminder of the vital importance of an independent, professional press to any community.

Trumbo isn't monotonous, but it falls short of genius.

This being a period drama, all the expected visual grandeur is present and accounted for, from Yves Belanger's vibrant cinematography to Odile Dicks-Mireaux's period-authentic costumes to Francois Seguin's production design.

An uneven R-rated Christmas comedy that's more enjoyable than, say, your Nana's fruitcake, but which at the same time doesn't feel quite like the dose of memorable holiday cheer it could have been.

In someone else's hands, Room easily could have become a horror movie. Instead, we get an emotional roller coaster ride -- at turns touching, harrowing, crushing and flat-out beautiful...Along the way, Abrahamson's Room becomes an immensely rewarding film, and the kind of movie that promises to stick with audiences long after the closing credits roll.

Granted, there's comfort to be found in the familiarity of Mendes' film, which makes an effort to look back while also advancing the series. But there's a fine line between paying homage to the past and merely repeating it.... Spectre often crosses that line.

An imperfectly executed but still perfectly enjoyable film.

Boyle, Sorkin and company might not have invented the iPhone or changed the way people viewed technology, but it does something the real Steve Jobs had trouble doing: It offers a genuine peek at the man behind the turtleneck, and in the process finds a way to connect with its viewers.

There's hardly a shred of cleverness to be found amid all the predictabilities.

Bridge of Spies, with its stop-and-go momentum, is also more merely interesting than it is full-on riveting. It's still quite good stuff, but despite its impressive pedigree... it doesn't feel as if it's quite the sum of all of its parts.

Ryan Reynolds and Ben Mendelsohn, and their casting in the lead roles pays off in spades. In fact, they're the primary reasons Mississippi Grind works as well as it does.

Guggenheim's film makes it clear that she is funny. She is humble. And, beneath her extraordinary sense of purpose, she is an ordinary kid.

Still, none of that holds back Bahrani's film from becoming a thought-provoking treatise on the self-perpetuating and dehumanizing nature of greed, which more often than not spawns desperation in others, which in turn spawns greed, which spawns more desperation, which spawns greed ...

Its smattering of enjoyable moments aside, this is one of those horror films that will beg to be remade -- just smarter -- once this initial outing fades into the memories of moviegoers.

Where's a wooden stake when you need one?

Like the rest of the film, it's has its laughs and it has its emotion, just not enough of either.

What we end up with is a sweet, feminist character study that shows off Weitz's deft hand as a writer while doubling as a perfect showcase for Tomlin.

It succeeds wonderfully, offering moviegoers a rare taste of rarified air -- and as compelling an argument as you can make for seeing a movie writ large on the oversized screen of an actual movie theater.

Once Learning to Drive gets up to speed it hums along nicely.