In Pay the Ghost, Nicolas Cage investigates a supernatural abduction, but has no solution for the maggot-eaten zombie that is his undead career.

This low-budget indie has a unique ambiance and surprising depth, both in the performances of its two leads and the writing/directing team of Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck (“Half Nelson”).

Nancy Meyers is known for her obsession with kitchens — sun-drenched, timelessly chic architectural marvels that provide a safe haven for all the director’s characters. The Intern puts a new spin on this trope: Robert De Niro is the kitchen.

When Mel Brooks checks in to play Dracula’s dad, harrumphing and looking exactly like Grandpa Munster, you realize Sandler and Co. aren’t trying any harder than they did in “Jack and Jill” or “Pixels.”

Finish your popcorn early if you’re going to The Green Inferno, and save the bucket to barf in.

With thinly drawn characters, uneven performances and tin-eared dialogue, Stonewall plays at best like a musical without the songs.

There might be a great movie to be made out of the financial crisis, but 99 Homes, which is like being shouted at by a man with bad breath while he grips your collar with both hands, isn’t it.

Labyrinth of Lies hits every genre cliché, from the mawkish score to the no-dialogue-montage-of-tragedy. Perhaps inevitably, it’s Germany’s submission for the best foreign film Oscar.

For a story whose appeal hinges on the saving grace of getting a "purpose-driven life," this one's got remarkably little of it.

Sicario, which combines dizzying action scenes with a taut script, ravishing photography and an otherwordly musical score, is a knockout.

In Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials, selfish oldsters scheme to rob young people of their vital essence, sacrificing them in the process. It’s basically “Social Security: The Movie.”

While highly entertaining and sometimes inspired, Black Mass is more like Scorsese lite. In perhaps the most memorable sequence, Bulger sardonically tests a childhood friend (Joel Edgerton) for loyalty by teasing out a “secret” steak sauce in what’s basically a reworking/homage of Joe Pesci’s famous “I’m funny, how?” scene in “GoodFellas.”

He may be saddled with an overly ironic title role, but Bystrov is terrific. His cowboy squint and dogged intelligence are enough to give you hope for Russia, although the movie certainly won’t.

The film has a nice sense of female friendships’ emotional depth. But as a woman, Duris (while amusing) is not much more convincing than Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in “Some Like It Hot.”

Like the film itself, it’s simple but well-executed enough.

In Zhang’s capable hands, their love story — in which Yanshi masquerades as various workmen in order to see his wife and attempt to jog her memory — is elegantly touching, as is the slow repair of the relationship between father and daughter.

Only in the heartfelt closing minutes does the film cut any deeper than a tired episode of a sitcom about children of immigrants complaining about their hopelessly old-fashioned parents.

Rom-coms died because they weren’t very rom and didn’t have enough com. But Sleeping With Other People, which is both hilarious and emotionally alive, is as delightful as a first date that crackles with possibility.

There’s a nice candor and sweetness about the players, especially Butterfield and Sally Hawkins as his mother.

Be warned that Wolf Totem, featuring one of the final scores by the late great James Horner, is probably too brutal for younger children and more sensitive animal lovers.

Perhaps this year’s timeliest film — as well as, unfortunately, one of the hardest to sit through.

The Transporter Refueled is a story of bodies: sleek, curvy, luscious bodies, purring for action and ready to let you do anything to them. They’re hotties, these Audis.

Daniel Lee’s elaborate Chinese historical action epic Dragon Blade certainly gets points for creative casting, as well as its gorgeous widescreen visuals.

Sunk by too much schmaltz (even for the Lower East Side).

If you thought Matthew Broderick looked uncomfortable playing “himself” in “Trainwreck,” wait till you get a load of the actor portraying a married man who wonders if he’s gay in Neil LaBute’s mean-spirited comedy Dirty Weekend.

Plays like an unintentional mashup of “Being There” and “Elf.”

This is mostly a sad and bloody tale, as the Panthers are decimated first by the machinations of J. Edgar Hoover’s FBI, and then by dissension in their own ranks.

Director Jay Karas doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel as he puts this odd couple through the paces of getting in shape and reconciling old wounds, but he’s helped by some laugh-out-loud quirk in Gene Hong’s screenplay, nice comic chemistry between the two leads and supporting players like J.K. Simmons.