The best I can say is that I was never bored, although I was never overwhelmed, either. There are enough small things to keep it interesting even when many of the big things fail.

It’s an okay movie if all you want is an everyman dad doing superhero-ish things while getting beaten up along the way, but it’s neither as wildly entertaining nor as exhilarating as its predecessor.

While there is some appeal in exploring how these characters might navigate the Depression and the approach of the Second World War, such arcs could never be properly developed within the confines of a feature film. The Grand Finale should be what its title promises: an elegant farewell.

The result, regardless of how it was arrived at, is gutless.

This is yet another chapter in “When Smart Movies Turn Dumb.”

The problem is that writer/director Paul Feig became too enamored with his storyline which, at best, could be described as a lame James Bond parody.

This combination of storytelling, singing, and corny comedy is sometimes a little too slow and long-winded for its own good, but at least the aftertaste isn't bitter.

The movie's musical sequences, which primarily feature popularized versions of gospel standards, are exhilarating and energetic. Unfortunately, that's only half the story, because the so-called dramatic material, which links together all the musical numbers, is mind-numbingly bad.

Those who want something substantial in their cinematic diet may recoil from what A Working Man offers. But for anyone whose primary concern is to see the righteous slaughter of bad guys at the hands of the noble Statham, A Working Man doesn’t disappoint.

Pussycat is classic Meyer. The three leads are all topheavy, the action-packed plot is paper-thin, there are loads of double-entendres amidst the cheesy dialogue, and the style is pure low-budget. This is fun stuff, to be sure, but definitely of the "guilty pleasure" sort.

The final half-hour contains enough contrivances and holes to challenge even the most generous movie-goer's suspension of disbelief.

When the characters in Footloose are dancing and the music is blaring, the film comes alive. It has energy and personality. Would that the same could be said about the dramatic scenes, which are hamstrung by a combination of mediocre acting and atrocious dialogue.

Petersen ratchets the tension up to a level where the viewer is likely to forget the imbecilic plot contrivances that have gotten the situation to this point, and just enjoy the action and adventure.

The result is an action-oriented survival tale, not unlike the kind of movie that Stallone or Schwarzenegger might have made back in the '80s.

This movie is a vast improvement over the tired and uninspired "American Pie 2," although it fails to make it to the lofty perch occupied by the first film.

One problem with Repo Men is that there's not enough material to sustain a 111-minute motion picture.

The movie isn't entirely successful as a romance or as an adventure, which makes the experience of watching it feel shallow and hollow, sort of like the stars and the plot.

Technically, it's superbly made; dramatically, it fails to achieve escape velocity.

A little youth is injected via "Slumdog Millionaire's" Dev Patel and Tena Desae, but they are supporting players. Still, as one might expect from a group of actors in this age range, the performances are impeccable. Experience does count.

Won't win points for originality, but the screenplay includes some snappy dialogue, smart observations, and an uplifting message about the importance of friendship.

The movie's anti-climatic resolution in concert with the holes left by the occasionally untidy script result in The Lookout not living up to its promise. Compared to some of Frank's past projects, this is a tepid offering.

One problem is that none of the characters are interesting and the situation is clichéd.

The film is by no means perfect and its goals are undermined by a sloppy climax and conclusion but it avoids preaching while providing fodder for thought.

Dumb, juvenile comedy has its place when it's funny. Unfortunately, too often in Get Hard, it's not.

Ultimately, Bad Education must be considered to be a minor effort from a major director.

Rarely does The Man with the Golden Gun take anything seriously. Mary Goodnight is as clumsy as they come. Pepper and Nick Nack are cartoonish. There are more jokes-per-minute than in any other Bond film. Even John Barry's score is less earnest than usual, and the opening song is ridiculous.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot has surprisingly dull fangs.

Although this features high wattage stars, it represents a curiously anachronistic attempt at escapist fare.