Killing Bono begs to be remade with A-list stars but, given Neil's history of near-misses, probably won't be.

The tragedy of Hutchins’ death overshadows anything that’s good about the film, sadly including her own grand cinematography.

The bickering and mishaps make for a semi-enjoyable if low-impact film that may appeal to the kind of nostalgics who buy Time-Life collections of '60s songmeisters.

Can be summed up by the fact that Ashton Kutcher, making a glorified cameo as a narcissistic model-slash-actor, is the best thing in it.

So laugh-poor that it shoves all its comedy chips on a bet that you can build a movie around nose gags.

Lacking quite the zip and zing of "Run Lola Run," this lively indie tale of a drug deal gone awry could be alternately titled "Walk Fast Bobby Walk Fast."

It is a boring parade of talking heads and technical gibberish that will do little to advance the Linux cause. Try again, guys.

It isn't particularly subtle or original. But it's a good-natured late-summer romp fueled by Lawrence's manic shtick.

Viewers willing to accept the contrived plot at face value will find much to like.

I laughed harder at Pumpkin than at any other film I've seen this year -- but be warned: This dark campus comedy is not for all tastes, or probably even most tastes.

Light, doggedly formulaic romantic comedy that's almost instantly forgettable despite the sunny presence of teen queen Mandy Moore.

Essentially a more awkward Afghan version of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding."

A bizarre and campily amusing "tribute" to the late dance legend starring drag queen Richard Move.

None of this is remotely funny or interesting.

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

Life of the Party is undeniably at its best when Falcone is showcasing McCarthy’s aptitude for physical comedy.

Boring movie.

Dashing, handsome and self-deprecating, Kevin Kline was born to play Errol Flynn.

Thanks to a winning cast, all of this is funnier than you would expect considering the erratic script.

Interesting enough that you wish it were better.

[REC] 3 Genesis is a prequel to the first two "[REC]" movies, but that doesn't much matter. You don't need to have seen them to enjoy this film, which provides fresh blood for a tired genre.

Like Cam, Tracers is fun to look at, if not too bright, and even includes a line I can only assume is a winking reference to Lautner’s claim to fame: “There can only be one alpha in every pack.”

A dizzying lowlife saga that’s fast, smart, wicked, sort of ambitious and blazingly ironic. It’s as unpredictable as a Lindsay Lohan drive to the grocery store, as overstuffed as the pictures on Anthony Weiner’s Twitter feed and as hilarious as me on the bench press.

The main reason to see it is for the hilariously nasty uses it devises for a bear trap, nail gun, etc.

Despite excellent performances by Kevin Costner, Octavia Spencer and other cast members, Mike Binder’s racially tinged custody battle drama Black or White never achieves much in the way of dramatic credibility.

Yelchin is an immensely likable actor who does what he can, but his charm isn’t enough to save this awkwardly worded — and paced — wannabe thriller.

Nobody does the rebellious-elder thing as well as Duvall, and whenever he’s center stage in A Night in Old Mexico, this scrappy film from Spanish director Emilio Aragon is entertaining enough.

Risks trivializing history and pandering to feminist fantasies, but it may be the year's most fearless movie.

The Tomorrow War, in trying to become the new Independence Day (this release date is not arbitrary), throws Alien, The Terminator and A Quiet Place in a blender. And, like that gross kale smoothie you made once, the result is gray goop.

It is worth catching The Singing Detective to see the brilliant Robert Downey Jr. in another extraordinary performance... Unfortunately, the film itself doesn't really work despite its lineage.

A sometimes eye-opening, if overlong, German-Swiss documentary on a holistic health system that's been practiced, mostly in India, for more than 500 years.

Entertaining but terminally dopey.

A truly repulsive piece of trash that says far more about the absence of values from contemporary filmmaking than the waywardness of teens.

Isn't boring, but it is sanctimonious, relentlessly predictable and willfully ignorant of the period it's set in.

This genre-busting hybrid is a scattershot affair - bad jokes land with a thud that seems to echo, but the winning ones prompt hearty laughs.

Immensely satisfying action thriller.

Vanessa Redgrave spends Evening dying, and so does Evening.

You could make a worse choice for a late- summer popcorn movie than Takers, a Michael Mann-ish heist thriller with a pulse-pounding foot chase and some terrific stunt work offsetting its hackneyed plot and dialogue.

If you can overlook its TV-episode look, occasional lapses in logic and detours into lurid overkill, this old-school psychological thriller, which marries a tracking-the-serial-killer narrative with occult themes, is a creepy diversion.

Miller is wincingly good at playing up the innocence.

Zeller’s latest mental health movie is an exhaustingly tedious experience in which you check your watch several times a minute while taking breaks from giggling at the clumsy dialogue.

The director is, you won't be surprised to learn, Tsai Ming-laing, whose deadpan humor and minimalist lensing has made him a god among film geeks.

So exploitative and misogynistic that its last-minute dramatic turns and pleas for tolerance and understanding come off as manipulative as its heroine.

Director Uberto Pasolini (“Machan”) has a gem in Marsan, a virtuoso actor who plays the role delicately where another might have laid on the pathos too thick.

Isn't quite insipid, although if it were a little better, it could be.

It isn't the laugh riot of the year.

A sincere but underwhelming dramatization of one of the biggest news stories of 1956.

Zippily written and directed by the team of Cory Edwards, Todd Edwards and Tony Leech, Hoodwinked just wants the audience to have fun - something that's been in sparse supply in theaters of late.

Basically “Lorenzo’s Oil” without the earlier film’s visual flair.

The two lead actresses rise to the occasion when they're finally forced to confront each other at the climax.

Uncharted, you say? That’s a funny title for an action-adventure movie that doesn’t stray one inch from the well-trodden path of what came before it.

Not one of Hartley's most successful efforts, but it's witty, daring, different and a welcome alternative to Hollywood pap.

There are far, far worse ways to spend two hours than watching Jessica Alba in a skimpy bikini - as well as other natural wonders photographed in the Bahamas - in the airheaded underwater adventure Into the Blue.

Disappointingly routine kidnapping thriller with soap-opera trimmings.

A moribund attempt to exhume the Jack Ryan techno-thriller franchise with a severely miscast Ben Affleck, is truly the 20-megaton bomb among this summer's blockbusters.

The leaden pacing, somnambulant performances and incessant symbolism in nearly every shot will soon have you thinking that The Three Marias is three too many.

All the elements are in place for an entertaining murder mystery, but as Bigelow meanders aimlessly back and forth through time, the plot becomes increasingly water-logged.

The sad truth is that TV series like "Dawson's Creek" do a better job with precocious teen dialogue.

Horror-movie vets Harrington ("Wrong Turn") and Sagemiller ("Soul Survivors") struggle unsuccessfully with characters who are frequently more plastic than Nikki.

Draggy and contrived.

The film is light on those kitschy musical numbers that make Bollywood movies fun to watch.

Tonally, the film swings between whispery romance and ominous horror as it explores the dark side of love and lust, including an amusingly gory meditation on the notion that the person you think is your beloved might just rip your heart out.

Crowe — knowingly, I think — clowns around from start to finish. Even if the horror doesn’t have you screaming, his Italian accent will.

In the fourth and by far the worst screen version of "The Invasion of the Body Snatchers," Nicole Kidman's character struggles to stay awake - as will the audience.

One of my critical brethren opined that this sort of dumbing-down and low comedy may be the only way to sell the public a movie about the Iraq war. If that's true, God help us.

A crowd-pleasing comedy that isn't going to win any awards for originality.

Aa saucy as a belly piercing, Mini's First Time is a black comedy that puts the soul of "Heathers" in Lolita's bikini.

Luc Besson keeps ralphing up scripts about beautiful lady killers, but that doesn't mean you have to keep seeing them. Case in point: Colombiana...[a] dull cable-TV-quality item.

The silliest sci-fi movie since "An Inconvenient Truth."

Justice League is a pointless flail of expensive (yet, somehow, cheap-looking) CGI that no amount of tacked-on quips, or even Gadot’s luminescent star power, can rescue.

Still, it was a beautiful wedding.

The erstwhile crack dealer born Curtis Jackson may be a prot‚g‚ of Eminem, but this shapeless and derivative gangsta saga is no "8 Mile."

The kind of thriller whose ridiculous climax hinges on a hitherto undisclosed GPS tracking device in a dog's collar - an appropriate touch in a movie that's more than a little flea-ridden itself.

Coincidences and plot contrivances pile up. What starts out as a delightful black comedy and social commentary ends up, at best, as a guilty pleasure where I had a hard time sorting out the intentional from the unintentional laughs.

A comedy as black as vinyl, Kill Your Friends is a music-industry tell-all set at a decadent London record label in 1997.

Without a real story to go with the notion of Farm Belt "wiggas," the humor wears thinner and thinner until it disappears.

As an actress, Lopez is a bit stiff, as she has been in all of her movies save "Out of Sight." It really doesn't matter much here, given the sparks between her and Fiennes and the fact that the role is pretty much form-fitted to her public persona.

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

A guaranteed crowd-pleaser for the whole family.

A glossy gay soap opera that graphically illustrates new meanings for the term "missionary position."

Slick but painfully precious, it strains to be darkly romantic but is bereft of genuine feeling.

The best sequence comes when the gang meet a saucy French lady mouse who works for the Resistance and at moments of high drama sings "Je Ne Regrette Rien" ("Ah!" your children will say. "At last, an Edith Piaf joke!")

A cartoonish, unfocused and mostly unfunny satire.

Unremarkable and none-too-scary horror movie.

Combining narrative heavy-handedness with an airy disdain for the details of the situation, director Julian Schnabel gives us a one-sided view of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in Miral.

I suppose you have to give credit to the movie for coming up with some badass killer mermaids.

A decade later, these tabloid hall-of-famers are finally back to share the screen in By the Sea — glumly emoting in a pretentiously arty, humorless vanity production that drags along for two hours that feel like at least four.

Mine all you like. You’ll never find any smarts in this cavern of stupidty.

The Paperboy can't decide whether to be an unfunny sex comedy, a half-hearted detective story or a woeful race drama - so it decides to be all three, then becomes yet another movie (a swampy "Heart of Darkness") in the final act.

For a bad movie, this one is an awful lot of fun.

The movie's prideful silliness makes it semi-watchable in the manner of Saturday afternoon cable flicks like "Delta Force."

It's a time capsule from a strange moment - like "Hair" without the groovy music.

Rarely have I wanted to fast-forward through a movie as much as Click, a treacly and not-funny-enough Adam Sandler comedy.

I kept hoping the meaning would click into place, but it never quite did.

Even an 11th-hour cameo from the late Dick Gregory as Ella’s long-ago boyfriend can’t keep The Leisure Seeker from being, well, forgettable.

Expect a fast-paced, beautifully mounted and well-acted soap opera with overripe dialogue that plays fast and loose with history - just like they did in the '30s, '40s and '50s - and you won't come away disappointed.

Edward Norton plays Ray, a (possibly) honest cop wearing an unexplained scar positioned just so on his cheek. It looks like it was bought in the markdown aisle of Halloween Mart on Nov. 1.

Hokey, overstuffed plot and a messily hand-stitched, often illogical script.