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.

The result is a hoot, as Nelson breathes comic life into the proceedings with an effortless, unselfconscious joie de vivre.

While it's not really about football, it's not about sterling filmmaking, either.

Calvary is most assuredly not a comedy. It is a weighty, powerful drama -- albeit one with comic moments -- that dabbles in weighty, powerful themes.

Boudousque is young yet, and so he has room to grow as an actor, but he's got nothing but upside to him at this point. It'll be fun to watch his career grow from here.

The result is a film with a scattered feel. That's particularly true in the film's rushed third act, as it skips around all herky-jerky, cramming in resolutions to the various conflicts but never quite giving any of them adequate time to gel.

The greatest movies, the ones that stick with us, are those that hold up a mirror to the human condition and reflect something back at us that we too often manage to overlook. Boyhood is one of those movies, and with it Linklater proves he is among the best practitioners of that art.

The problem is, the second half of the film -- when it's time for it to get down to business -- isn't nearly as compelling as the first. As a result, the impact of Cahill's story is muted as the payoff just doesn't feel rewarding.

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

It is fast, it is fun.

Chaz Ebert says that Roger would have loved Life Itself. I'll take her word for it. She knew him far better than I did. Clearly. But I'll add this: I love it, too.

Amid it all, Snead does a nice job of laying out the history of video games. If nothing else, there's a lot of information here. But there's also a lot of information on the Wikipedia entry for "video games." All in all, I'd rather be playing "Madden 15."

The resulting coming-of-age story isn't necessarily an uplifting one. It is harsh. It is melancholy. It is sometimes uncomfortable to watch and predictable here and there. But it also boasts a feeling of authenticity.

Steadman is a fascinating talent with a fascinating process and a fascinating perspective on the world. Maybe somebody will make a definitive documentary about him one day. Unfortunately, For No Good Reason isn't it.

The sum total is a film with great music, a great story and a great vibe in general -- not to mention those Carney-crafted moments, built around joy, possibility and self-transformation. In other words: Carney has given us another pearl.

It's also deeply flawed, an emotionally exhausting film with a payoff that is limited at best, and a bit self-indulgent to boot. So while Haggis has proven himself a first-rate filmmaker and storyteller, by his standards, Third Person is little more than a second-rate effort.

Makes for riveting viewing. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is among the more brisk 2 hours and 10 minutes I've spent in a theater in some time -- and it's easily the most rewarding of this year's summer tentpole films.

Despite its adoption of that trendy (and more than a little tired) shooting style, there's an old-fashioned charm to Earth to Echo.

Regardless of how well-argued it is, when watching a film feels this much like homework, that's not likely to happen.

Sometimes the nuts-and-bolts of the story threaten to snag, most often on conversations about the very specific details of Locke's largely humdrum job. It's those moments in particular that keep Locke from ever quite shaking the feeling that it's a gimmick film.

Not all of the stand-up scenes in Obvious Child are quite as funny. At least one is meant to be bad. Another is meant to be poignant but just ends up coming off as a touch weird and emotionally false.