It's a comfortable and tidily assembled story of human perseverance in the face of adversity. Which is yet another thing about which the Irish know a thing or two.

Beneath all that genre eye candy, though, resides a smart and moving story that, after a somewhat slow-moving first hour, builds nicely to become an emotionally engaging drama.

If viewed as a literal narrative, the post-war German drama Phoenix, with its implausibilities and contrivances, works only so well. If viewed as an allegory, on the other hand, it ends up as something else entirely -- something intriguing, complex and altogether moving.

Even with that pedigree, Ponsoldt's film doesn't snap and sizzle as much as it just lays there, leaving moviegoers who haven't been converted to the Wallace cult to long for the end of this particular "Tour."

While Nourizadeh's just-for-fun head trip is no more ambitious than its long-haired pothead of a main character, it delivers on its sole goal: to entertain and to surprise.

Straight Outta Compton doesn't shy entirely from the uglier side of the N.W.A. story, including the claims that their music and their lifestyles glorified thug life, perpetuated gun violence, advocated drug use and reveled in misogyny. Instead, Gray's film owns it.

As is the case with "Amy," there's probably no way any of us could ever truly understand Brando, who often seemed to be living on a different planet than that occupied by the rest of us. But with its anguished first-person voice -- and its permeating sense of sadness -- Listen to Me Marlon comes as close as one imagines is possible.

New Orleans makes for a distinctive backdrop, but that's really all just window dressing, and it goes only so far in covering the fact that The Runner -- from its moody, electric-guitar-driven score to its faintly 1990s, Grisham-flavored sensibilities -- runs out of narrative inspiration before it crosses the finish line.

Simply, this is a story that needs to be told, one that proves that sometimes the past shouldn't be relegated to the past. It also makes The Look of Silence an unassailably essential and necessary film.

For all of its faults, Irrational Man is a passable diversion at worst. While that's certainly not what Allen was aiming for, when you're talking about Woody Minor, it's enough. Barely, but enough.

The impressive young cast -- is mostly wasted. Teller and company, despite their proven talents, are given little of depth to do and forced to spout dialog that ranges from clunky to ridiculous.

It's a difficult watch, with its scenes of robbery, rape, murder and assorted other personal assaults, as well as a downright agonizing portrayal of an abortion procedure. This is not a story of hope or of redemption. It is a story of cruelty and despair.

While Infinitely Polar Bear makes an admirable argument that mental illness is something to be managed rather than dreaded like a death sentence, it's hard not to feel as if Forbes' film perhaps paints too rosy of a portrait of what can be a devastating condition to families.

Southpaw has at least one thing its predecessors don't: It's got Jake Gyllenhaal in the lead role, and that makes a big difference.

Pixels is a slice of pure, frivolous entertainment that doesn't try to overreach.

A satisfyingly fresh take on a character we all only thought we knew well.

A well-conceived superhero romp in its own right, and one that stands nicely on its own six legs.

With each new scene, Schumer manages to offer wonderful little surprises. It wasn't long before I found myself excited at the beginning of each new sequence in Trainwreck, just to see how Schumer would make me laugh next.

If there's a voice of wisdom and hope in Kapadia's film, it comes from 89-year-old crooner Tony Bennett, whose duet with Winehouse on "Body and Soul" was reportedly her last studio recording before her death. "Life teaches you how to live it," Bennett tells Kapadia's camera in what ends up being one of the film's ultimate morals. "If you can live long enough."

It's just plain less -- less than what sci-fi fans are probably hoping for, and less than what it could have been.

There are a number of laughs to be had in what ends up being an uneven but surprisingly likeable dose of low-calorie nonsense.

Unfortunately, Brice appears more interested in ramping up the outrageousness and keeping his audiences guessing than in crafting a meaningful story. And so while his film is nothing if not unpredictable, that comes at the cost of the sort of emotional impact for which his film seems to be aiming.

Inside Out isn't just a movie. It's a doctoral dissertation on human psychology, with a bit of therapy on the side. Miraculously, it's fun, to boot.

A bronto-sized slice of big-screen entertainment buoyed by dazzling visual effects and intense action, and a film that plays like part adventure movie, part monster movie and part thrill ride.

Spy boasts tons of the type of low-humor that fuel so many Seth Rogen and Will Ferrell frat-boy movies. The difference here is that the laughs aren't at the expense of the fat kid. By the time the closing credits roll, McCarthy's character been built up, not torn down -- and we're rooting for her, not guffawing at her.

Niccol's film won't likely achieve the high-flying box-office success of "Top Gun," but it is similar to that 1986 film in that it will likely get people talking after the closing credits roll.

The problem is, the closer our heroes come to their goal, the weaker the story becomes. What we're left with is a film that gets off to a ripping good start, but which -- given how little time is actually spent in the fanciful world after which the whose shebang is named -- ends up feeling like a cinematic bait-and-switch.

Vinterberg's Far From the Madding Crowd is a lovely adaptation. What's more, it's downright entertaining.

While Pitch Perfect 2 feels like it leaves much on the table, that'll be plenty good enough to give its fans something to sing about -- until the inevitable "Pitch Perfect 3."

It also includes the elucidating, offering a rare glimpse at the architecture of Spinney's elaborate Big Bird costume.

It all adds up to a film that is at times interesting, and at times funny in spite of itself. But more than all that, it exudes a sense of heart-rending, chest-penetrating sadness.

A well-intended but scattered dramatic comedy.

A rewarding, moving and satisfyingly original film.

Age of Ultron -- for all the eye candy and mindless entertainment it has to offer -- stays safely within the franchise's established parameters. Here, there are no real surprises.

Functioning as more parable than sermon, it offers at least a hint of a blueprint for other faith filmmakers who want their message to reach beyond the front pew.

It's a theme Mary Shelley brought us in "Frankenstein," which was first published in 1818. That was almost 200 years ago. And while Ex Machina replaces the stitches and neck bolts with gears and fiber-optics, it all feels an awful lot like the same story.

If nothing else, True Story is the kind of movie that will spark spirited discussion among moviegoers prone to digging and searching for the truth -- whatever that might be.

Yes, it's a nature documentary, so it includes predatory behavior, but it's mercifully brief and generally tastefully photographed. Plus, it doesn't involve any of the film's main monkeys, so little hearts won't be broken.

While The Last Five Years isn't a bad movie, neither does it fall into the "must-see" category.

Baumbach, however -- while not entirely past that particular cocktail of curmudgeonly emotions -- demonstrates an ability to laugh at his own apparent age hang-ups.

Furious 7, formulaic or not, knows exactly what kind of movie it is. It is a superhero movie without the tights. It is a comic-book franchise without the radioactive spider bite. It is, plain and simple, an automotive "Avengers."

This is a film that could -- and should -- catch on. Just be careful nobody follows you home from the theater.

Is it funny enough to make for a wholly satisfying feature-length film? No, not really. Like so many films of Ferrell's, Get Hard feels rushed and uneven.

A fast-moving, fascinating and at times even fun documentary residing squarely at the intersection of sports, geopolitics and history.

It's a film that benefits greatly from Clarkson's well-seasoned chops, given that the first act of October Gale -- while illuminating with regard to her character -- boasts precious little dialog.

For one to succeed, it should have a certain "emotional intelligence" of its own. It should have a soul. It should bring something new to the conversation. And while Eva dips a toe into those waters, it never really invites its audiences to dive in head-first.

An enchantment, plain and simple. And while it won't make many forget Disney's iconic animated version, it certainly joins it as one of the more enjoyable re-tellings of this classic tale.

In the end, Mr. Turner ends up being the best kind of period drama. That is, it is a transportive one, whisking audiences away to a distinct time and place, while also providing no small amount of insight about its subject.

"Second Best" might not be second-rate, but neither is it the match of the first "Best Exotic Marigold Hotel."

The pieces click together nicely in what ends up being an overall enjoyable package.

Two Days, One Night offers a look into the lives of the everyday workers of the world -- the ones for whom a thousand-euro bonus (about $1,100 U.S.) can solve a heck of a lot of problems.

The result is a feel-good, family-friendly trip film that promises drama, suspense, humor and -- in a rarity for sports dramas -- no small amount of modern relevance.

What we end up with is a meandering mishmash of tasteless jokes and a tendency for extended non sequitur riffs.

What we get is a an intriguing relationship drama, one that is at times darkly funny, at others thought-provoking, but mostly piano-wire tense.

A Most Violent Year harks back to the cinema tradition of the 1970s, with its deliberate pace, its simmering tension, its gritty cynicism and its central moral dilemma. At the same time, it has something to say about the way business is done in 2015.

Black Sea gets the job done, accomplishing all that it sets out to do -- and better than most January thrillers.

There's a chance Black or White just might offend some, but it's more likely to get them thinking and talking. In this day and age, and given recent headlines, it's hard to ask much more from a movie.

Director Daniel Barnz's soft-play indie drama is a compassionate but emotionally raw film, one that traffics in such thoughtful ideas as personal redemption and emotional resurrection.

Foxcatcher isn't a film many viewers will clamor to rewatch. It's too chilly a film for that. At the same time, it's one that will suck them in -- and it will hold them while they're there.

What we're left with is something sobering but searing, muscular but compassionate.

This is what makes Anderson's film so infuriating. It's so damned irresistible -- until it becomes so damned insufferable, getting lost in a marijuana fog of poorly explained plot developments and indecipherable twists. Still, it's hard to look away for fear of missing some other equally inspired flourish.

Big Eyes is not dissimilar to the Keane paintings at its center. That is, it's by no means flawless, but there's an odd attraction there, something intriguing that draws you in and makes you want to find out if there's anything worthwhile there. You can say what you will about Keane's work, but in the case of Burton's film, these "Eyes" have it.

While Graham Moore's screenplay isn't without its flaws, it brilliantly weaves into the story a case that being different shouldn't necessarily be a negative thing. In fact, The Imitation Game argues in no uncertain terms that those differences can be something to celebrate, not to "cure."

As glossy and well-produced as Unbroken is, it doesn't stray too terribly far from Hollywood convention. In fact, its very story structure is so traditional that it's mirrored by Clint Eastwood's "American Sniper."

As strong as that cast and those visuals are, however, they don't quite add up enough to guarantee a happily-ever-after for moviegoers looking for a memorable in-theater experience.

There are other movies out this year that are more technically ambitious than Wild (I'm thinking "Birdman.") There are others that are wider-reaching in scope and sheer audacity (the 12-years-in-the-making "Boyhood"). But there aren't any others that offer the power and profundity of Wild. This movie is a gift. It's also a journey.

That's a lot of storytelling going on, and it costs Battle of the Five Armies a certain cohesion.

Unfortunately, the longer this Annie goes on, the more steam it loses.

Yes, it is first and foremost a thorough chronicling of the Deepwater Horizon disaster, but its real value is in its function as an expose on the energy industry, which, with aid and abetting from the federal government, repeatedly places profit above all else, including environmental concerns and human safety.

Flaws aside, the journey will be largely worth it for audiences, particularly for fans of the genre.

And let's be honest: Hawking and Wilde's romance is lovely in its own way. But his scientific work? That's important. That's staggering. That's life-changing, not just for him, but for all of us. And The Theory of Everything? Despite that title, and despite those performances, it just doesn't feel like any of those things.

With no real beginning and no real ending, the unsatisfying "Mockingjay Part 1" is essentially all middle -- one big, stretched out, watered-down second act. The result is a handsome film, but also a talky one that takes a while to hit its storytelling stride and that, once there, repeatedly stalls to fill time.

Whiplash is, at its core, about jazz -- that smoothest, mellowest of American art forms. But don't let that fool you. Writer-director Damien Chazelle's impressive sophomore effort is about as rock 'n' roll as a movie about jazz can possibly be.

Even when Laggies strains against its contrived conceit, his (Rockwell) chemistry with Knightley goes a long way in classing up the joint and making Shelton's film feel just deep enough to pass muster.

It is nothing if not a nice film. But it's little more than that.

As far as 'toons go, it's probably most reminiscent of Pixar's "The Incredibles," given that both are stories about superhero teams. There are also echoes of "How to Train Your Dragon" in the flying scenes, featuring little Hiro perched atop Baymax's back. But even then, Big Hero 6 still feels like its own, distinct creature.

From the first line of its deep, rapid-fire dialog all the way through to its trippy ending -- which is guaranteed prompt discussion on the drive home -- Inarritu has crafted a film that begs to be rewatched, with the promise of each repeated viewing bringing something new.

Aja's film ends up being an fairly satisfying Halloween diversion, using those magical horns to overcome its flaws and transform itself into a decidedly dark, but weirdly sweet, ride.

The most impressive thing about Simien's film is his script, which he wrote. With multiple protagonists and multiple storylines to serve, he deftly manages to keep a number of balls in the air -- without losing sight of his film's purpose.

John Wick makes a few feeble attempts at witty repartee, but, in the end, Leitch and Stahelski's film feels like an unintentional parody of itself.

The Best of Me is full-on Nicholas Sparks, through and through, checking all the boxes in the by-now well-established formula. It's just not the best of Nicholas Sparks.

It's an engrossing film, rich with action and emotion.

Amusing as it often is, it's all also fairly predictable stuff. If there's one thing Arteta's script is missing, it's imagination.

There's something haunting going on in The Notebook -- in the story, in the performances, in the overall atmosphere -- that makes it hard to look away from, and equally hard to forget.

The result is a film that is engrossing for stretches, that will raise your hackles -- and maybe the hair on the back of your neck -- especially if you believe in the vital role journalism plays in a free society. At the same time, though, it also feels a bit like a by-the-numbers affair.

Love is Strange doesn't really have any sort of sense of urgency about it. To the contrary, it feels rather mundane, as their problems -- while both unfortunate and unfair -- feel relatively small when put in perspective.

It's in the film's Africa-set scenes -- at the film's start and again in its closing 25 minutes or so -- when The Good Lie is at its best. This is where the story is at its most moving and rewarding.

Starred Up isn't just violence for violence's sake. Rather, it is a surprisingly layered, hard-hitting human drama, one that cuts to the bone -- albeit with a homemade prison knife.

Still, there's more here to like than to dislike in what ends up being a feel-good movie about a feel-bad topic, a la "Little Miss Sunshine."

Boxtrolls stands reasonably well on its own, as a cool steampunk fairy-tale that serves as yet another testament to the artistry of the folks at Laika.

There's a soothing catharsis in the idea that good guys are every bit as capable as bad guys of raining hellfire down on their enemies.

As a collective thing, though, those moments add up to a messy, all-over-the-map movie that toys with big, existential thoughts, but it doesn't have a coherent enough story with which to drive them home.

It's also both intense and entertaining enough to leave audiences hungry for the inevitable sequel so clearly set up by its cliffhanger ending.

Without Hardy, The Drop would be in danger of becoming just another crime drama. With him, though, it's something else entirely -- something alive, tightly wound and irresistible.

On the one hand, there's a thrill in such experimentalism. On the other, it doesn't always deliver a fully satisfying moviegoing experience.

Yes, that makes Frank weird, but it's the kind of weird I can't get enough of.

This is an alternate-history rock 'n' roll saga. It is not Elvis, but Elvis-ish.

Agata Kulesza is pitch-perfect as the tortured aunt, weighed down by years of shame and sorrow. In a quieter but equally impactful role is newcomer Agata Trzebuchowska as Ida, a character defined by a quiet, rigid stoicism but who, with her cherubic face, engenders great empathy.