Focus is uncommonly good for a February release (damning with faint praise?) but may not clear the bar of being worthy of a trip through snow and ice to reach the multiplex. Star power, actor chemistry, and caper movie twists make for a nice diversion… but not much more.

The film is so exuberant that we don't care whether we're listening to Lou Reed's off-the-cuff comments about New York, watching Mel Gorham do a sexy dance in front of a mirror, or hearing Jim Jarmusch's ramblings on the romance of the smoking culture.

How to Eat Fried Worms belongs to a vanishing breed - live action family films.

Clooney and Zellweger play off each other perfectly, delivering their dialogue with the rhythm of a well-choreographed dance and falling in love in the time-honored tradition of '40s romantic comedies.

The contrived storyline offers little opportunity for characters to grow and the meandering narrative trajectory and anticlimactic ending will have some viewers wondering why they bothered.

No amount of youthful charisma can alter the fact that, in the light of "Dangerous Liaisons", Cruel Intentions is a feeble and dissatisfying shadow.

A bloody fairy tale with no moral and a lot of juice.

“Dumbing down” was coined for productions like this: big, splashy, testosterone-fueled monstrosities whose sole purpose is to give a studio box office bragging rights for a few weeks.

Non-Stop plays like what might happen if Michael Bay directed a screenplay developed for Alfred Hitchcock.

Extreme Measures isn't going to be described as the "slam bang thrill ride" of the Autumn, or any other such nonsense. The film's inherent tension comes not from the shootouts and chases, but from its core ethical questions -- questions that ultimately have to be addressed, not only in movies, but in real life. "If you could cure cancer by killing one person, wouldn't you have to do it?" Obviously, there's no easy answer, and, whether you agree or disagree with the position taken by Extreme Measures, at least the film frames its response in an entertaining, and occasionally thought-provoking, package.

Eastwood has captured a peculiar yet involving slice of life.

Valkyrie, despite being a more straightforward thriller, is less gripping than "Downfall," the most recent film in which Hitler had significant screen time.

The movie is deliciously creepy even if it does exhibit some issues that keep it from being a top-notch example of "things that go bump in the night" horror.

It’s not a terrible movie but it feels like a failed attempt to infuse the Coen Brothers’ wry aesthetic into a B-movie tableau.

No one is going to remember the movie in a month, but for Mommies and Daddies seeking a night's break from their children, it's adequate entertainment.

The DUFF would make John Hughes smile. With its mixture of wit, teen friendly situations, and heart, The DUFF feels like something that might have come out of Hughes' '80s playbook.

Sylvia underwhelms.

The limp movie seems to be an attempt by an Australian to mimic a bad American romantic comedy, and, unfortunately, he succeeds admirably.

Its plot-by-numbers story doesn't offer much in the way of surprises, and it doesn't have the emotional power of a Leaving Las Vegas or the euphoric quality of The Brothers McMullen. But Sabrina is fun in its own way, and, though clearly flawed, it nevertheless offers two hours' solid diversion (the overlong running time, by the way, is one of those flaws).

While this particular film doesn't boast any radical or surprising ideas, it combines numerous familiar plot elements into a suspenseful, entertaining whole. Best of all, perhaps, is the realization that some thought went into writer/director David Twohy's script. This is not a dumb movie; in fact, with its heavy reliance upon real science, it's startlingly credible.

It has taken Warner Brothers ten years to get this property a new life and, thankfully, the results in no way resemble those of its Cold War TV compatriot. Or, to put it another way, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015) is good fun, which "The Avengers" (1998) wasn't.

Not since "The Crying Game" has Jordan crafted as compelling a motion picture.

Many of the jokes are either obvious or have been exposed through pre-release marketing material. I kept waiting for the clever or insightful moment that never arrives. The bar is set pretty low for Minions.

By the time the two hour running length has expired, it's safe to say that Real Steel comes across as a legitimate crowd-pleaser.

Yes, Unknown is preposterous. That in and of itself is not a reason to avoid the movie. The problems lie in the way the absurdity is presented and the manner in which the screenplay resolves once the "truth" is revealed.

There are times when the story behind the making of a film is more interesting than the finished product. This is one of those occasions.

There's no shortage of candidates for the fatal flaw: the artificial storyline; the presence of a ridiculously cliched character; the lack of chemistry between illicit lovers. Blaming one of these problems is probably unfair. The movie's failure is likely based on a fusion of all these, and perhaps a few others.

Hereafter is a fascinating, absorbing motion picture, but will work only for those willing to surrender to the story as it unspools at its own deliberate rate.