Thoroughly, and disappointingly, pedestrian.

Beasts of the Southern Wild is not only a wonderful story -- a portrait of intestinal fortitude in the face of enormous change -- but it's our story, forged in our own shared recent history and dripping with flood, sweat and tears.

While you're watching it, it is cozy and enjoyable, the same way a sleeping cat in your lap is cozy and enjoyable.

Never coalesces into anything memorable, much less meaningful.

Stone is generally given to deep thinking -- eternal fates are on the line. Not only does that lend the riveting and intense Savages a certain gravity, but it's also what separates his film from, say, your favorite Guy Ritchie movie. Here, we find an appealing depth amid the appalling violence.

The problem is that the film must re-establish a great deal of mythology, much of which is already familiar to most moviegoers. Unfortunately, Webb's film never quite makes usshake the feeling that we've done all this before.

A captivating portrait of the frailty and the failures of humanity.

Unapologetically raw -- and very funny.

Still, as Death of a Superhero plays out, it's hard not to shake the feeling that this is ground we've trodden before.

Like the character at its center, Wein's film suffers from a certain sense of inertia, which is where Gerwig comes in.

A thoroughly endearing journey, and one of the most enjoyable and touching movies to land in theaters so far this year.

Even if something feels crazy -- whether it's falling in with a self-taught time-traveler, or buying into a charming but faintly flawed movie premise -- if you listen to your gut, wonderful things can happen.

Perhaps the best thing about Seeking a Friend is that it never ceases to surprise, as Scafaria's script consistently defies Hollywood convention in the most congenial ways.

The magic is back at Pixar.

The joy of Hysteria, like the joy of certain other things, isn't necessarily rooted in the element of surprise. Rather, it's in the pleasure of the path taken to get to that crescendo.

Nobody has an excuse for being surprised by how low Sandler and company stoop in That's My Boy.

Unfortunately, like the Poison song says -- and, in many ways, like the decade itself -- it ain't nothin' but a good time.

Some summer movies are big, woofing mastiffs. (Think "Battleship.") Others are naughty, nipping lapdogs. ("The Dictator.") Here, what we get is a calm, quiet basset hound. And, for the most part, it's a good dog.

What we're left with is a thoroughly mediocre, shrug-generating disappointment -- and one that certainly doesn't feel like it should have cost more than a third of a billion dollars to make and market.

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.

When a film's clichés are so obvious that its cast points them out for you, you've got to wonder how hard it's really trying.

The good news: This is Goldthwait the writer-director, not Goldthwait the actor -- so there's no schticky voice to endure. But his exceedingly black comedy does speak loudly -- and it turns out he's actually got something worthwhile to say.

An uplifting and colorful crowd-pleaser, it's built on a wealth of cinematic contrivances -- all designed to make sure things, indeed, turn out all right in the end -- but the result is just too good-natured to begrudge.

It's no "Das Boot," but Battleship is a boatload of popcorny fun.

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.

What you won't find amid the clashing cutlasses and flashing foils, however, is anything resembling a rapier wit.

Perhaps the best thing about The Five-Year Engagement is that it signals a touch of maturity creeping into the House of Apatow.

It's not only shameless, it detracts from what this movie could have been, and still is when the self-promoting Harvey shuts up.