The Way, Way Back is way, way good -- and a welcome breath of fresh air at the summertime box office.

Even if a filmmaker is dealing with familiar themes, when he or she fills in the blanks as sweetly and amiably as writer-director Geremy Gasper does in Patti Cake$, any desire to pick things apart all but vanishes.

Burning Cane is all about Youmans and his uncommon vision, which would be impressive coming from a filmmaker of any age. Making it all that much more exciting is the fact that this is just the beginning.

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.

McConaughey and Leto's performances are also the saviors of Vallee's film, which has a way of belaboring certain points and, in the process, robbing his film of no small amount of momentum.

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.

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

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.

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 is engaging, it is intense, it is beautifully shot and it thrusts viewers credibly into the horrifying action from the very first frame -- and doesn't relent until the very last. This being Nolan, he also overcomplicates what is essentially a fairly simple story.

What we're left with is a love-it-or-hate-it film. Those determined to resist its deep-seated romanticism - or its operatic approach - will probably emerge from the theater as miserable as the film's characters. But those who are willing to give into it, and who want to take a grand cinematic voyage, stand to be greatly rewarded.

Here's a film that feeds the heart and the soul.

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

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.

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.

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.

Berger's film is still far more magical than it is macabre. And so although a black-and-white, foreign-film adaptation of a very familiar tale might, indeed, be a hard sell, audiences who buy into it are in for an undeniably rewarding movie-going experience. In a word: ¡Ole!

It's that zippy dialog more than anything that moves "Django" along and that coaxes such fantastic performances from its actors.

With beautiful, artful images serving to break up the monotony of the film's wealth of talking heads, Surviving Progress is at times as visually striking as it is persuasive.

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

The result is an intelligent and well-crafted film that works to inspire audiences by finding the humor amid the prevailing bittersweetness of life, and that celebrates the strength of the human spirit with a dose of unbridled and entirely embraceable optimism.

The result is a movie built upon big ideas -- and timely ones, too, delivering a message of understanding in this frustrating age of great intolerance -- but also a great story and, thanks to Lee, a wonderfully satisfying cinematic journey.

It's a grand, colorful adventure, an escapist romp draped in tinsel. And, who knows -- if you're all good little boys and girls this year, perhaps it will also be the first installment in a new DreamWorks holiday tradition.

What McDonald ends up with is a film that serves both as tribute and as cautionary tale, and one that functions well as both.

This isn’t just a film. It’s a cultural treasure – and, given its unlikely journey – a minor miracle.

With its emphasis on relationships and character, Drive can best be described as a thinking man's action film -- or at least, it could if it didn't ultimately feel so oddly slight. As it is, for all of its positives, it functions mostly as a guilty pleasure rather than as a movie that resonates the way, say, "Blue Valentine" does.

A thoroughly and unmistakably modern film so rooted in the now that it's bound to be remembered as a cinematic landmark.

Rarely is an actress asked to do so much with so little -- and even rarer does that actress succeed as well as Clarkson does.