His (Jonze) obvious affection for, and veneration of, Maurice Sendak's 1963 Caldecott Medal-winning children's book is palpable in his near-perfect live-action adaptation, a dreamy -- and, like Sendak's book, faintly nightmarish -- exploration of one child's tantrum-y side.

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

To be clear: Despite the holiday flavor, and despite the pint-sized hero, this is no kids' movie. There is swearing. There is blood. There is an army of 180 very nude Santas coursing through the snow. That's not the kind of thing Frank Capra ever could have dreamed of -- and that change of pace is exactly what makes Rare Exports a rare, if unexpected, holiday treat.

Far more often than not, Lee's talented ensemble -- who really do look like they're having a blast together -- generate more laugh-out-loud moments than lulls, all of which help make Girls Trip work nicely as a mood-elevating mid-summer diversion.

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.

It's provocative stuff, and The Yes Men approach it with a wicked sense of humor.

Few of the film's secondary characters feel fully developed, with the possible exception of Nelsan Ellis' portrayal of Brown sidekick Bobby Byrd.

Just as key to the movie's impact are its well-acted scenes of heart-wrenching emotion, although some stray perilously close to melodrama.

An admirably full portrait of a film that reflects, with thrilling discomfort, the darker recesses of our minds.

That's the kind of movie this is, the kind that sticks with you, that prods you to examine things. In the process, it reveals itself to be something of an emotional roller coaster -- but one well worth riding.

Like Paddleton itself, Romano's performance isn't flashy. It isn't dripping with self-awareness or desperation. Rather, it's quietly, subtly beautiful. And it deserves to be seen.

So here's what moviegoers can trust from the Russo's Captain America: Winter Solider: They can trust it to be a brisk ride. They can trust it to be entertaining. They can expect it to be suspenseful.

There's plenty of melodrama, plenty of whispered intensity, plenty of dramatic pauses in his story. There also are a few bizarro -- and, in some cases, unnecessary -- detours. But when it's all said and done, there's no real call for any emotional investment on the part of his audience.

Pure cinematic fluff, the kind of film that tends to evaporate within a few hours of seeing it. That being said, Manville is so charming, and the rest of Fabian’s film is so well meaning, and so well realized, that by the time it hits its inevitable third-act moment, it’s hard not to be swept up by the joy of it all.

These women deserve to have their voices heard, and this film finally lets them have their say.

Brilliant in its simplicity, as he turns the floor over to the three masters with this simple instruction: The guitar. Discuss.

It's a decent comedy, mind you, one with its fair share of chuckles. But it's really more amusing than it is fall-out-of-your-seat funny.

Dragon is guilty of simplifying the raw material of Lee's life for melodramatic as well as martial-arts purposes - and isn't always convincing in the process. Still, headliner Jason Scott Lee does a fine job of suggesting the charisma, grace and sheer explosive force of Bruce Lee's personality, as well as his drive to master self-awareness as well as self-defense. [11 May 1993, p.D7]

Never Let Me Go isn't the kind of movie you talk about on the drive home -- it's even better. It's the kind that makes you sit quietly and think, rolling it around in your head and considering the angles.

The result is a deliriously watchable and darkly comic portrait of a high-velocity death spiral.

The magic is back at Pixar.

"Down" is in many respects a quite modest achievement. While several of his characters are colorful enough to elicit laughs (the sweet but bland hero, I'm afraid, isn't one of them), Breathnach takes a perilously long time to generate narrative excitement and delivers only a pint-sized dramatic payoff. [3 July 1998, p.L27]

Ali and Mortensen are both fantastic in their respective roles. Every bit as important is the surprisingly charming script, which uses humor to soften its touchy subject matter.

Lucas Hedges is terrific in the lead role of a sneaky movie that, rather than preaching and shouting, becomes something uplifting, something hopeful, something moving and something important.

They're fascinating characters, to be sure, with back stories ripe for development. But Whedon doesn't commit here, and the results are shrug-worthy.

This is a world where training wheels are called "stabilizers" and where children leave something called "mince pies" for Santa. (Um. Ew?) As a result, the occasional line will fly over your little ones' heads. But you can also expect for them to be charmed by it all.

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.

Oddly, though, Everyday Sunshine ends up being a mostly optimistic tale. That's because, despite it all, Fishbone is still gigging.