Most troubling is just how easy it is to sell nuclear secrets with the help of large corporations and the acquiescence of governments.

An energetic, feel-good blend of comedy, romance and benign drama -- with a side dish of social commentary -- that works despite its strict adherence to the culture clash/generation gap formula.

Relying heavily on old network newscasts, Corben introduces a collection of colorful characters who just want to get stoned.

Superfly escapes superficiality thanks largely to strong performances from Jackson; Jason Mitchell as Priest’s workmanlike partner, Eddie, and Michael Kenneth Williams as Priest’s mentor, Scatter.

Watching Thirteen is like spending an hour and a half with a poker-faced teen who's obviously unhappy but refuses to talk about what's wrong.

There's not enough here to justify the almost two hours.

In most respects, The Iron Giant is one of the better animated children's films in recent memory, which makes its strident political correctness all the more frustrating.

Booster’s film, directed by Andrew Ahn, tries to do too many things at once. One side is the clever Austen adaptation, while the other is a sendup of the rom-com genre to the point of parody.

At nearly three hours, it’s entirely too long, needlessly padded out with an intrusive interview-framing device.

Harry likes Willie's white girlfriend, played by the Australian actress Rose Byrne with a riveting, sad sexiness. So much screen time is devoted to the men that her part is underwritten, but there are novels in her eyes.

What makes Sing 2 enjoyable are the tunes. And writer-director Garth Jennings assembles a characteristically quirky mixtape.

Brief and timely, this documentary directed by Shosh Shlam and Hilla Medalia is also frustrating.

It's a shame that, on top of everything else, the second movie version of The Quiet American -- Graham Greene's brilliant 1955 novel about the French Indochina war -- should be so visually disappointing.

Good enough to almost overlook a so-so ending.

Director Raymond de Felitta, who directed a little-seen gem called "Two Family House" a few years ago, gives Falk plenty of room to do his thing. There's an underlying emotional truth even in scenes that seem terribly contrived.

[Tatum] lets his cuddly co-star shine and wrings out a few touching moments of his own, too.

De Villa has created a truthful representation of a colorful community.

Pinto's lack of dramatic range (she basically has two expressions) and an awkward third act do not provide a solid foundation for Hardy's tragic ending.

An overwrought, ramshackle weepie that really doesn't deserve Kline's Oscar-caliber work.

I won't reveal the twist -- but the marketing crew is aware that their only chance of selling this non-mind-blowing documentary about the people you might meet on Facebook is by promising a big surprise.

There’s a simplicity and directness in Chaplin of the Mountains that keeps it aloft; its wholehearted sincerity feels much fresher than any number of slicker, more cynical films.

There isn't a dud in the 10 shorts, although some are more dud-ish than others.

Adult World proceeds by fits and starts, but fans of Cusack won’t want to miss his performance as the petulant poet, whose resistance is inevitably worn down by his persistent fan.

Moves at a swift clip with pungent performances.

It may be too bleak for most.

This otherwise undistinguished thriller about cloning is the most entertaining movie from the aging action star for some time.

Much of the movie's gentle charm comes from Mehta, the director's younger brother, making his acting debut.

Captures some remarkably vivid present-day performances by the aging performers.

Fascinating though it is, the movie is thin on historical materials.

A clever setup that harkens back to “You’ve Got Mail” and “The Shop Around the Corner” doesn’t quite pay off in India’s warm-hearted comedy-drama The Lunchbox.

A cheaply made, occasionally repetitive, but passionately argued documentary.

It’s photographically yummy, heaving with sun-dappled vistas and four-star dining. The boys float around a bit in the sea and enjoy homemade pasta while trundling out their impressions of, say, Marlon Brando.

Ninety percent of the movie is a very pleasant watch. All “My Old Ass” needed was a few more conversations with Elliott’s family and friends to provide more closure for her and the film.

The last half hour devoted to the Big Game, staged by a crew from NFL films, is genuinely rousing and inspiring. That's where Friday Night Lights finally shines.

Musician Bones is believable as the luckless tourist in lime-green shades, and the musical soundtrack, including songs by Bones, is infectious.

Dark, depressing drama.

The beginning and end are classics.

It’s a sprawling plot that consistently teeters on the edge of unwieldiness, but Affleck’s assured directing, gorgeous cinematography by Robert Richardson and a who’s-who of Hollywood’s best character actors keep it mostly on track.

It’s basically a narrative spin on Alex Gibney’s 2013 documentary “The Armstrong Lie,” only with less cycling footage. This is a plus for those of us easily bored by such things (so many interchangeable mountain passes and neon jerseys!), but there isn’t a ton of new material here.

The plot doesn’t entirely escape formula, and the ending is jagged and forced, unable to commit to either hope or gloom. But for at least part of its length, My Brother the Devil brings refreshing changes to a genre badly in need of them.

Hustle & Flow promises gritty street drama but delivers "Pretty Woman" with crunk instead of Roxette.

The kind of sentimental, upbeat and inoffensive children's entertainment parents always hope their kids will like.

Very funny. It's also heartbreakingly sad.

Harrelson's charming flamboyance - seen to great effect in "No Country for Old Men" - is a great fit for Carter, who carries no small amount of self-loathing under his carefully coifed toupee.

Uneven, self-conscious but often hilarious spoof.

Demolition, written by Bryan Sipe is, like director Jean-Marc Vallée’s previous films “Wild” and “Dallas Buyers Club,” a tale of interior repair sought through obsessive and near-penitential acts, but it’s stranger and at times more interesting than those other two.

Despite the pace, though -- pedal, have you met my friend metal? -- Ninja Assassin still has some of its best stuff left at the end, when the master returns to demonstrate his extra-special, super-most-deadliest technique.

The movie could have used more of the band's music and less talk.

The gags run thin after half an hour or so.

Well-intended and often poignant film that, unfortunately, too often bogs down in too much talk by its participants.

Could have been a spiky culture clash. When it tries to shock us with its alleged realism, though, it is entirely a bore.

It's all a gorgeous error, a bonfire of overreach.

Entertaining and heartwarming -- especially when Mirren sweeps into scenes with acid observations that fail to disguise a heart of gold.

Disappointingly routine kidnapping thriller with soap-opera trimmings.

It’s fine, if not a little too long at two hours — but for “Breaking Bad” fans jonesing for something, anything, connected to the chronological timeframe of their beloved series, it should do the trick.

Swift, confident, and exceptionally nasty, this Argentine film bears roughly the same relationship to the Martin Scorsese of “Goodfellas” that Brian De Palma does to, well, all of Hitchcock.

Much time is spent on inter-museum wrangling, and the personalities aren’t vivid enough (as they were in “The New Rijksmuseum”) to build tension. The interest lies in the close look at the strange vision of this great artist.

Formulaic but surprisingly charming.

Jenkins is a master of cinematic portraiture, but he’s so captivated by the magic of a moment — even a single image, like cigarette smoke swirling around one of Fonny’s carved-wood sculptures — that he sometimes forgets he’s got an audience expecting a plot.

This is a rare case of a movie that improves dramatically as it goes along.

A bit too shaggy to totally live up to the potential of its fine cast. But there are moments of comedy gold - especially as Segel, who went full-frontal for "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" endures endless humiliations as the title character.

Morris is likely to disappoint liberals in The Unknown Known by failing to take down an apparently weak target.

It’s an ambitious, often arresting film, but it lacks cohesion, and the seesawing plot and motivations seem more indecisive than mysterious.

Thanks to a superb performance by Isabelle Huppert, it's compulsively, gruesomely watchable.

Despite copious full-frontal female nudity, House of Pleasures isn't mere sexploitation. Rather, it's a gorgeously filmed portrait of a bygone era, with painstaking attention to period detail. On the downside, the movie is overlong.

It’s adequately visionary, it’s routinely spectacular, it breathes fire and yet somehow feels room-temperature.

In effect gives you two movies for the price of one. The better one doesn't star Sandra Bullock.

Has just enough fairy dust to charm its target audience.

A documentary mosaic of kooky Americana.

The true story behind a Coast Guard rescue depicted in Disney’s The Finest Hours is amazing enough that it didn’t require corny romantic embellishments that threaten to capsize everything.

A campy, brightly colored musical comedy.

Your heart will have you cheering Gordy on -- even as your brain complains that there are plot holes you could drive a truck bomb through.

Features abundant sex and nudity, yet it manages to tell its story (based on a real character) with great sensitivity.

Filmed largely in black and white, The Cool School includes interviews with one of the gallery's founders, Ed Kienholz, as well as with Dennis Hopper, Dean Stockwell and architect Frank Gehry.

I've seen Demonlover twice and still find the plot a challenge. I'd try again if I thought it would help.

A testosterone- and cliché-fueled epic that will have some hoping for sudden death as it stumbles toward the three-hour mark.

Too often seems like a slightly silly film.

The movie putters along as softly as Wendy drives. Despite its lack of narrative horsepower, though, its character sketches are pleasing. And amusing.

Travis, making his feature debut, gets very likable performances out of his female stars. And it's nice to see sex given its due as a wide, wild buffet rather than the standard missionary, bra-on fare we're usually served in a rom-com. Mmm-hmmm!

Screenwriter Steve Kloves still seems overly dedicated to cramming in every detail of J.K. Rowling's novel - while tacking on a schmaltzy Hollywood ending.

Slight but charming.

In the course of How About You, much champagne is consumed, pot is smoked, and a good time is had by all, the audience included. Redgrave even sings the title song.

It's got enough going on to sustain five blockbuster thrillers. That is its blessing and its curse.

It's not exactly going to be on PETA's 10-best list.

Sometimes hilarious but mostly sitcom-esque geezer comedy.

There is fun to be had at Van Helsing, but it requires considerable suspension of disbelief at the apparently deliberately ridiculous plot necessary to bring the three monsters together.

McQueen’s script at times reeks of obviousness, even as it nurtures understated and heartfelt performances from Ronan and Heffernan. We always know where the film is going, and it dutifully goes there. Visually, though, the work’s a stunner.

Works unexpectedly well for its first three quarters.

Even with a cast this lovable, The Dead Don’t Die falls short of the killer zom-com it could have been.

The duo’s journey is gripping, but long stretches elsewhere in the film drag and it feels much longer than two hours.

A black-and-white fantasia shot against a bright backdrop of famous sites, and it has potential to be a cult hit on its dreamy-hipster look alone.

Yet while Nemes criticized “Schindler’s List” as “conventional,” all that’s new here is the hyper-realistic technique: Saul’s quest is not very far from the girl in the red dress.

Disaster movies, from "The Poseidon Adventure" to "Towering Inferno," are impossible to take seriously and "Day" is no exception - it's simply a fast-moving pageant of end-of-the-world eye candy.

An extremely well- acted thriller that simply fails to thrill.

Despite the attention focused on New Orleans these days, though, the film won't win many new converts. The musicians swear this is dance music, but the beats are far too ponderous to get a rise out of the hip-hop generation.

Coogan is often very funny as the libertine Raymond, whose real estate holdings made him one of the UK’s richest men at the time of his death in 2006. But tragedy simply is beyond his range at this point.

Formulaic but entertaining, My Best Friend climaxes with a lengthy, surprisingly heartfelt sequence set on the French version of "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire."

As well-worn as it may be, Comer reliably freshens up every project she touches and makes otherwise cold scenes sizzle.