A thumping soundtrack, including David Bowie's "Rebel Rebel" and Pink Floyd's "Us and Them," fuels this high-energy look at a pack of underdogs who sowed the seeds for today's extreme sports craze.

The picture is smothered by solemn right-mindedness, and hobbled by scripter David McKenna's simplistic, knee-jerk liberal take on suburban white racism.

Needs less talk, more music.

In fact, for long stretches, especially during the first hour, it's as soporific as watching a bank of security cameras.

If you find hedge funds hard to wrap your head around, the movie Human Capital won’t do much to ease the confusion.

Director Gaby Dellal gets respectable performances all around, especially from Dekker as the hapless, grief-stricken father, but they can't elevate Angels Crest, beyond its one obvious and depressing note: It is very sad when a small child dies.

On the plus side, Derek McKane's moody camerawork makes Gotham look grand. Too bad it's wasted on The Last New Yorker.

Temple and Angarano, entertaining enough, never quite sell the idea that this goodhearted couple would be so easily transformed by greed.

Aimed squarely at the under-6 crowd, is basically the pilot for a Nickelodeon series with an already heavily merchandised character.

With The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, directors Ethan and Joel Coen venture to the frontier once more, after “True Grit” and “No Country for Old Men.” But this time, there’s only a little grit in this very slow country.

Beautifully shot and well-meant -- but fairly snoozy.

If you think you've seen Imaginary Heroes before, you're right -- only it was called "The Ice Storm," or maybe "Ordinary People."

Some fine performances shine through in Joe Maggio's pretentious, credulity-straining dramedy.

Sensory gluttony is reason enough to see a movie, and few epics overstuff the eyes like this one.

Rendering the life of young Abraham Lincoln as a tone poem, The Better Angels sags under the weight of its own resolute earnestness.

When the massacre starts, the movie gets better. But the methods of murder are, like everything else, awfully self-serious and limited to mostly just plain old guns and knives.

A throwback to the kind of '80s action flicks that had titles like "Adrenaline Force," is enlivened by a raft of celebrity cameos, including a blink-and-you'll-miss-it appearance by Gibson.

Grows ever more manipulative and predictable.

Overall, The Last September is a real snooze.

Has a sexy cast and is gorgeous to watch -- but it takes more than that to make a movie worth seeking out.

The story never quite gets into the groove.

A beautiful but empty-headed documentary.

The tone is good-natured enough to make a simple movie semi-watchable.

Green's odd little movie is clever -- too clever, as it turns out.

LaBruce devotees will be tickled pink; others will be perplexed and/or disgusted.

It's rather sweet and life-affirming, although the transformation from sophisticate to peasant happens too conveniently and quickly.

Amusing and informative (and hyperbolic) as it is, All In: The Poker Movie is a documentary whose intended audience is unclear.

Coming down too hard on this load of schmaltz — as I said when reviewing my first Sparks adaptation back in 2002 — feels like taking a baseball bat to a sack full of newborn kittens.