The title may suggest acts of indecency, but if there’s anything this mild dramedy could use, it’s a little more raciness.

Here’s hoping Bruce Willis bought something special with whatever cash he earned from this pointless, brutally ugly rehash of 1973’s “Westworld.”

These are the best moments, when Stewart and a wisely understated Gugino are free to enact their own wistful, beautifully intuitive pas de deux.

Cute, mostly well-mannered and just a bit off-center.

Unfortunately, Mann’s newest film, Blackhat, fails to connect.

Even Liam Neeson seems bored by the imbecilic, repetitive “Taken 3,” an action movie no one was clamoring for and no one will enjoy.

The film peels back the layers of a mystery. Who knew what, and when? And how could someone choose this path? The film is rich with artfully framed interviews of newly discovered family members, like Reuveny’s quarter-Jewish German cousin considering a religious conversion. Even the music and finely observed interiors are so cinematic that you often forget this is a documentary.

As an exercise in atmosphere, this claustrophobic creeper does a lot with a little, even if the movie winds up providing just superficial shivers.

A palpable sense of environment and strong performances from Noah Wyle and musician Steve Earle can’t balance the extensive flaws in this unconvincing Appalachian melodrama.

Predestination may have the trippiest, weirdest take yet on the time-travel concept.

The darkened rooms and spooky fog are undeniably gorgeous. Teen horror buffs will be bored but design majors and sketchpad artists may find themselves inspired.

Chandor (“All is Lost”) has made a movie that quietly but ferociously immerses us in a time and place, with atmosphere done in minimal yet evocative strokes.

The battle it documents is both a cornerstone of the past and a reflection of ongoing struggles. DuVernay infuses Selma with that dichotomy, never forgetting how Selma, the place, was a pledge to march ahead.

When you get through it, though, you can’t help but feel uplifted by this tough-skinned movie that can stand with the best muscular wartime dramas in the American movie canon.

No wonder the vodka bottle beckons in this wrenchingly acted, remorseless modern masterpiece.

The best movies are ever-shifting, intelligent and open-hearted enough to expand alongside an audience. American Sniper, Clint Eastwood’s harrowing meditation on war, is built on this foundation of uncommon compassion.

Understatement is one of Mark Wahlberg’s greatest assets. But that admirable trait winds up working against him in The Gambler, Rupert Wyatt’s otherwise intriguing dramatic thriller.

Burton structures the film, right up to the fascinating finale, as both a damning tale of male privilege and a moving story of a woman’s liberation. The actors reflect these themes accordingly. Adams is touchingly restrained and Waltz is monstrously charismatic.

Loyal fans of the Sondheim original may feel a bit let down themselves. There’s much to love here. But working with original “Woods” writer and Sondheim collaborator James Lapine, Marshall tones down the crucial dark shading in some places and has trouble with pacing in others.

A heartfelt, bittersweet and often amusing portrait of early middle-age.

There are big special effects, of course, but refreshingly, this third (and final?) movie in the franchise is like a pleasant stroll through familiar halls.

Winter Sleep won’t appeal to action lovers, but if you like endless verbal warfare, this is a joy.

Spall is best known for his supporting performances (Winston Churchill in “The King’s Speech,” Peter Pettigrew in the “Harry Potter” films). But he’s among the highest class of character actor, able to make a role of any size his own. Leigh has given Spall the gift of a lifetime in J.M.W. Turner.

For all the talent involved, the overall effect is surprisingly flat. Foxx appears disconnected, Byrne is wasted and a painfully hammy Diaz seems to be in another movie altogether.

Real-life geopolitical blunders aside, The Interview generally hits its marks. And every time it does skid into juvenile idiocy — with too much scatological humor, for instance, and an overuse of “you-go-bro!” attitude — it follows it with a stride or two toward uproarious meta-satire.

There’s far too many moments of sabre-rattling, and too much confusion about who is aligned with whom, and why. Those who know and love Tolkien’s texts will have a vested interest. Everyone else may grow restless.

Franco himself is ponderous playing Williams, which tends to overwhelm everything. A cool concept, and A for effort.

The heart of the film is the touching relationship between two lonely souls. The lovely, feisty chemistry between Rowlands and Jackson will keep even the most cynical viewers on their toes.