Also helping to sell it all is the fact that these films, goofy though they may be, feature a consistently high level of acting. In addition to Pegg, we get Martin Freeman ("The Hobbit"), Paddy Considine ("Red Riding"), Eddie Marsan ("Sherlock Holmes") and Bill Nighy ("Love Actually"), all of whom have appeared previously in the trilogy.

It's also a touch tedious at times, as it's not always clear where Oppenheimer is going.

Imbued as it is with a sense of discomforting truth, it is a worthwhile examination of human nature -- and one with a message well worth heeding.

He was a charismatic leader and the greatest salesman the industry ever saw. He also was a very vocal spokesman for the graying counterculture -- crediting his high-tech success to Zen Buddhism, Dylan songs and acid trips.

Making it even more intriguing is the fact that the whole thing is, extraordinarily, inspired by a true story.

Director Klay Hall's embraceable, overachieving romp plays nicely as a big-screen feature.

The stakes in this latest, disappointing Harry Potter wannabe never feel as high as they should, or as important as its characters seem to think they are.

Granted, Elysium could be more clever as it goes about its business. This is smart sci-fi, but it's not as smart as it could have been -- or as many "District 9" fans were probably hoping it would be.

While Washington and Wahlberg help make sure the flawed 2 Guns isn't too bad, it's hard not to think that it could have been better.

It's pretty obvious that Almodovar at least was having fun making I'm So Excited. Ditto for his actors, who admirably go all-in for these roles. I'm glad they're having a good time. After all, somebody has to find a reason get excited about I'm So Excited.

It's the kind of cinematic cotton candy that youngsters will gobble up. Even more importantly, it's relatively quick, painless stuff when compared to so many other pint-sized entertainments out there.

Fruitvale Station is only the first in a string of civil-rights minded movies set to hit theaters this year -- contributing to what could be the most racially conscious award season in recent memory.

Those who connected with "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" last year or the lesser "Quartet" earlier this year likely will find things to appreciate about Williams' film, given its similar senior citizen angle and general sense of niceness and decency.

You can color me unimpressed.

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

It so shamelessly borrows from so many other movies, and then does absolutely nothing to add to them -- nothing to raise the bar, nothing to make it more interesting, and really nothing to make it the least bit appealing.

A great storyteller, however, is one who can entertain an audience in the moment -- but who also gives them something to think about, something for them to take home with them when the story ends, which is exactly what Polley does in Stories We Tell.

It's not a film for everyone. Those who see it, however, will have trouble forgetting it.

Lazy and stupid and unwilling to put forth the effort needed to distinguish itself even from a mediocre Internet video, it all amounts to a forgettable, slapdash bit of comedic nothingness.

Easily the most enjoyable animated film of 2013 so far.

It tickles both funnybones and eyeballs.

What the Cairns brothers have created is something rare for a horror film: Not only does it get the job done without making you want to shower after it's all over, but they've created multi-dimensional characters who inhabit a believable and expansive environment. In so doing, they've also created a bloody good bit of twisted fun.

The chief problem with such gimmick films -- including Maniac -- is that storytelling so often takes a back seat to the gimmick du jour, resulting movie that can be interesting from a technical perspective but not nearly as compelling as one would want.

This is solidly a genre picture, and one that follows all the necessary conventions -- but it's also one that does it all very well. That means lots of big, dumb and loud action -- but it also means good, popcorny, summer fun.

Roenning and Sandberg never dig deeply into the real, underlying motivating force behind Heyerdahl's voyage aboard the Kon-Tiki -- the name of his visually unimpressive but ultimately seaworthy raft -- other than relying on the fact that he wanted to prove his theory correct.

Watching it, one gets the feeling that Coppola knows these vampiric types all too well. What unfolds feels like a cross between "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" and "Natural Born Killers," and a film that is far more disapproving than glamorizing of the go-go-go Los Angeles lifestyle -- but fascinating nonetheless.

What Monsters University fails to do, though, is to scare up any real emotion.

This is the kind of movie that is so embraceable that it floats smoothly over those imperfections almost unnoticed.