Has a few too many coincidences and tends to be sugary, but it has an important precautionary message in this age of terror.

Filming in gritty, black-and-white 16mm, Riker gets terrifically natural, often moving performances from his mostly non-professional cast.

First-time writer-director Andy Muschietti, an Argentine discovered by Guillermo del Toro, relies too much, especially in the early going, on horror clichés (sudden loud noises and jagged blasts of music), but he does make the tension hum.

Field, as usual, goes all-out; the film may be a comedy, but she attains a few moments of real heartbreak.

Rio 2 is not what I would call Amazon prime, but it’s got enough silly songs and daffy critters to keep the little ones happy.

The low-budget "Master" lacks the polish and romance that made "Crouching Tiger" so popular. But for old-fashioned raw energy, it's tough to beat.

A lot of preaching to the converted.

If nothing else, the mere sight of two popes drinking brews and watching a soccer game together is one of the more surreal things you’ll see at the movies this year.

But even if The Cat's Meow is unsubtle and overlong, in its jaundiced way it convincingly captures a fascinating period in Hollywood history.

A weird hybrid of cloning thriller and futuristic love story, with hints of "The Godfather" and "Ice Castles" - and it wears its disjointed nature like a badge of honor.

There’s such a genuine sweetness to Johnson you can’t help digging the shtick.

Graham is funny and adorable in this endearing little romantic comedy.

So lovingly and perceptively filmed that you can almost taste the desiccated air.

Less an updated version of the Dostoevsky novel than an unusually somber Hollywood teen love story.

It has a pleasing smallness -- it's cinematic chamber music -- that almost makes you overlook its inability to really explain its subject.

It actually works as a sometimes funny, occasionally scandalous, but mostly involving narrative.

Dolan embraces passion and melodrama to a refreshing degree, and Dorval and Clément are terrific. But Mommy can be exhausting; the structure and plot rhythms are all over everywhere. A montage to “Wonderwall” (every last note of it) seems to sum up the movie; too much, but exhilarating all the same.

While the premise (inspired by the true story of tune-challenged American socialite Florence Foster Jenkins) could be as cruel as “Carrie,” Frot’s would-be diva is achingly sympathetic.

Honorable, worthy and windy, Fences is essentially a PBS episode of “Great Performances” that is inflated for the big screen without ever quite belonging there.

In monotonous narration, Rosette rants that the vendors' right to free speech should allow them to obstruct sidewalks, but the portrait of his subculture is so vaguely rendered, it will likely put audiences to sleep rather than change minds.

It feels less predictable and derivative than it is, thanks to Gus Van Sant's deft direction and two fine central performances.

Arch, wry and dry, with its exquisite wallpaper and impeccably blocked fedoras, Married Life is bracingly malicious noir for a while, a sort of gray-flannel-suit take on the Coen brothers' "Blood Simple." Every character seems morally capable of anything.

Quirky and good-natured, it makes the most of an unknown but able and refreshingly international cast. And for a low-budget indie, it looks remarkably good and moves along with real snap.

In the end, the movie (executive produced by the late Wes Craven) degenerates into a routine, though ably constructed, horror flick.

There are two things that make the flawed Mapplethorpe worth a watch: Matt Smith’s dedicated performance, and a reverent inclusion of so much of the artist’s work.

Gives a harrowingly accurate portrait of the indignities sometimes suffered by hospitalized patients - and the sacrifices their families make.

This is ultimately a sunny movie full of likable characters.

Maybe it's because I share Burton"s twisted affection for the 1970s, but for all its shortcomings, I'd sooner watch a sequel to Dark Shadows than another installment of the bloated "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga any day.