The movie, a sequel to 2009's much more sprightly and amusing indie "Women in Trouble," seems to be reaching for Robert Altman territory. Instead of offering many intriguing stories, though, it can't come up with even one.

The marvelous Burtonic gothic/nightmare production design -- scenery, weaponry, costumes, etc. constantly pleases the eye without ever distracting you from the plot.

Shaft is what summer action flicks should be... thanks to superior writing, acting and direction.

Looks and feels like a bad imitation of "Trainspotting" without any of that film's wit or charm.

Despite some genuinely funny scenes, American Desi turns out to be inferior to the as yet unreleased "ABCD" and even last year's "Chutney Popcorn."

A great-looking but torturously slow and often hokey cross between "The Exorcist" and "Dirty Harry."

The once-great franchise is hardly reborn from the amber this time. It’s slammed by an asteroid yet again.

There simply aren’t enough synonyms for “loathsome” to do the new movie The Hunt justice. Perhaps if we expand into other languages. C’est détestable! È ripugnante!

France's friendship dramedy Little White Lies is such a blatant rip-off of a far better American movie that it could have been called "Le Big Chill."

A soufflé of a romantic and family comedy that stubbornly refuses to rise.

The result is entertaining but hardly memorable.

You can't quarrel with the lensing and acting, but the overabundance of coincidences keeps Vivere from reaching its full potential.

“The Equalizer” should be locked in a room with “The Terminator.” Then this lousy series would finally be killed off.

Nowhere near as funny as you’d expect with its stellar cast.

No matter how good Blethyn is at playing up the sweet hurt of a woman who is well on the decline but never made it in the first place, your admiration for her shrieking-and-drinking breakdown scenes is likely to be tested after about the fifth go-round.

There is much more of an emphasis on action in this nicely crafted, fast-paced sequel, which at its best shares the antic qualities of classic Warner Bros. cartoons.

A pleasingly weird, dryly funny little indie.

The timeless classic, a groundbreaking achievement for animation, has been turned into another pointless and awkward live-action automaton that vanishes from your mind the second it’s over.

Basically a Lifetime movie that somehow found its way into theaters.

Skip it, and rent "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" instead.

"Schindler's List" it ain't, and the whole is rendered occasionally surreal by Janusz Stoklosa's laughably heavy-handed score.

A miracle of indie filmmaking. Shot for practically nothing by first-time director David Barker, it delivers more bang for its minimal bucks than many a Hollywood blockbuster does for its multimillions.

This is Ebiri's first feature after directing four shorts. He shows talent, but shouldn't give up his day job just yet.

De Niro gives a technically brilliant performance as Walt, struggling with a body that will no longer obey him.

It's a worthy idea, but the uninspired scripts, acting and direction never rise above the level of an after-school TV special.

There are some bright one-liners in the beginning, but the comedy/drama mix is an uneasy one, especially considering the shabby way the film treats McKenna, as a tart who’s just there to improve some yuppie sex lives.

The treacly trifle is just more of the same Hallmark-inspired Christmas white noise for people who defend these terrible, sappy movies as chicken soup for the couch potato’s soul.

Lee may not want to let anyone in, but it’s hard to engage fully with a film that doesn’t seem to want to, either.

Though quite watchable thanks to its cast, the overly ambitious Don McKay ends up as confused as its main female character.

Seeing this great actress, age 84, draw real feeling and laughs from such mediocre material is worth the watch.

Even the most extreme punishments are softened by hilariously neurotic dialogue. Vive la Delpy!

A terribly funny sendup of the show that famously gave us “Waterloo” by ABBA in 1974, and now gives us a year’s supply of crazy. The Netflix film is the most enjoyable music industry parody since Christopher Guest’s folk satire “A Mighty Wind.”

Possibly the most unintentionally hilarious film since Ed Wood's "Plan 9 from Outer Space," Steve Irwin's big-screen debut is destined to become an instant cult classic.

An Amsterdam mess.

Duplex, a shoddily constructed and alarmingly unfunny dark comedy that squanders the talents of Ben Stiller and Drew Barrymore, is one real-estate deal you should walk away from.

Engaging, if sometimes obvious.

An outrageous horror flick.

Ultimately, all signs point to Going in Style having been overcooked by too many chefs: You know you’re in trouble when multiple scenes in the trailer never show up in the final product.

So strenuously inoffensive it makes Disney's "High School Musical" look almost racy by comparison.

Suspenseful though it is, the movie is quiet to the point of being sleepy, and Worthington is simply not working out as a screen star.

Another project whose narrative gets swallowed by its design.

It's a one-joke movie, if "Jewish mothers are annoying" is a joke. But just as a film about boredom should not actually be boring, no movie should credibly simulate the experience of being stuck in a car with Barbra Streisand for eight days.

What begins as a clever action-comedy a la “Pineapple Express” or Eisenberg’s earlier “Zombieland” devolves into a standard shoot-’em-up, with gore splashed around to distract us from the dearth of wit.

A sloppy and ridiculous movie that Pacino makes oddly entertaining.

To bulk up the thin material, the film steals from countless other, better adventure movies to create an altogether less satisfying combo plate that costs $30 to rent on Disney+.

The film is a failure if it can't convince us that these two people belong together. It can't, and barely tries.

What's Spanglish for "oy"?

The central narrative is ultimately too one-dimensional to sustain interest.

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

A very average, ordinary film that goes haywire.

Breakup at a Wedding works, because Quinaz has come up with a concept that lets him skewer directorial pretension alongside wedding hysteria.

It's not a total shipwreck, but abandon hope all ye seeking a coherent, much less satisfying, narrative. Expect instead a reported $300 million worth of eye candy, delivered with enormous technical skill.

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 also gives another black eye to Iranian fundamentalists. It is most unfortunate, then, that the film isn't better.

Comparisons to “Slumdog Millionaire” are inevitable, but the kinetic Trash has a rhythm all its own.

Problem: Kidman is the only one in the theater who is turned on. The rest of us are giggling.

Put it this way: Jimmy Carter was funnier than this movie.

I can’t speak to Bethan Roberts’ 2012 novel the film is based on, but the story’s climactic reveal is one of the most predictable in ages. It gets the award for Biggest Duh!

Ticket to Paradise would be a better time if it was as campy as its lead actress’ frozen hair.

Another mean-spirited black comedy from Todd Solondz, tries even harder than the director's two earlier films to shock and outrage -- but the overall effect of his sophomoric excess is tiresome and dull, like watching someone else's 2-year-old act out for the 50th time.

Garage Days is fun, but it would have been even more entertaining if Proyas had taken an unplugged approach.

A girl with relationship woes can hardly set foot in Europe these days without finding herself hip-deep in yummy food and tasty men. The latest iteration of the story is Letters to Juliet or, as I like to think of it, "Eat Pray Hurl."

Bay's best film since "The Rock."

Ice Cube's well-worn performance as a wise old geezer is the only bright spot in a movie that otherwise fumbles every opportunity to be funny, exciting or insightful.

The funniest and arguably most envelope-pushing episode stars Winona Ryder as a newlywed who falls in love on her honeymoon - and steals the object of her lust: a ventriloquist's dummy.

There are some funny moments, plus occasional nudity and sex, but the joke quickly wears off. What might have worked as a half-hour TV show doesn't suit itself to a feature-length film.

The performances are so uniformly good that it's a shame the characters are stuck with such a listless plot.

Child of God is, like the source novel, loosely inspired by the notorious real-life cannibal murderer Ed Gein. So was Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho.’’ Nobody left that classic bored — but they sure will be by Franco’s film.

Uma Thurman plays a flying hero who might as well be called Not Funny Woman.

Stewart's intense, courageous performance as a 16-year-old New Orleans prostitute is really something special.

A protegé of Gus Van Sant, Archer -- who also makes short films and music videos -- has a wild imagination he has trouble harnessing. He doesn't know the meaning of "too much." But Barkin, in short, blond hair, is superb, as usual, and Aaron Platt's cinematography is stunning. Here's hoping Archer gets his s - - t together in feature No. 3.

As Franco dilutes the drama with first-year-film-student gimmicks, like split screens and slow motion, it just seems like a dull collection of pointless monologues from actors who can’t even be bothered to match up their accents. Franco is a dilettante, and it shows.

A wildly misanthropic and overlong black comedy.

Gore is always with us, but when it comes to horror, there's nothing like a haunted house. And Lovely Molly has a humdinger.

A triumph of low-budget filmmaking.

So udderly mediocre.

The game cast tries desperately to be funny, but Day hasn't provided them with the material.

Tremblay is charming as an eccentric kid marching to his own tune, but the film’s attention wanders like a goat separated from its herd.

It's "Das Bomb." It's "The Perfunctory Storm."

None of these seemingly plot-rich questions are explored; instead, we’re stuck with a greasy-haired Mark Ruffalo, as his detective character flounders along in their wake, muttering that he doesn’t have time for this magic crap.

Indeed, one never doubts that cast and crew went into Wide Awake with anything but the best intentions. Yet, spiritual kiddie flick or not, one knows what the road to hell is paved with. [20 Mar 1998, p.50]

If Canadian director Bruce McDonald’s dreams are anything like the disgusting underworld we see in his new movie Dreamland, get the man a doctor.

It's pretty hard to make a dull movie about Henry VIII and his complicated love life, but The Other Boleyn Girl, a failed Oscar contender, manages to do just that, with yawns to spare.

May be the first movie that effectively erases virtually its entire story line by the very last scene.

Mostly, though, it all ends up feeling like a lost, minor episode of “The X-Files:” A little scary, a little silly and catnip for those who want to believe.

These people are so selfish and self-absorbed you may not want to spent even 72 minutes with them.

Borba keeps referring to himself as "a hero," but the directors, Burt Sun and André Costantini, never delve into his psyche. On the plus side is Costantini's luscious cinematography.

Szumowska provides lurid scenes of perverted sex, but she offers no new insight into the sordid world of prostitution and the dangers sex workers face. Nor does she flesh out Charlotte and Alicja. The result is a superficial and voyeuristic film.

This midsummer crowd-pleaser from the ateliers of Steven Spielberg and Ron Howard is still a great deal more rip-roaring fun than, say, the campy movie version of "The Wild Wild West."

I’ve read ingredients labels that were scarier than The Purge: Anarchy, a plodding horror flick that mistakenly thinks it has big ideas.

There’s so much anguish, we eventually become numb to it over the nearly three-hour film. We come to know her only as a victim, not a fleshed-out person. Is that take enlightening? Meh. Entertaining? Not really. Long? Extremely.

That insinuating, sublime atmosphere is consistently being intruded upon by the distractingly silly plot.

A slickly entertaining war movie that's sometimes striking, sometimes silly -- but never, ever boring.

Two things make this film slightly more interesting than its American B-movie equivalents. There's the artless way it shows the French state exercising its power and the charisma of French stars.

Splendidly spectacular, intelligent and very well-acted.

An enjoyable minor-league lark. But another "Notting Hill?" Fuhgeddaboutit.

Little is made of the cultural fusion aspect of their story, and ultimately the struggle-for-success tale is as homogenized as the music.

This Alfie has been castrated.