Out of the Furnace features some nice performances and is deliciously atmospheric but it never achieves its goal of being a compelling meditation about how the economic erosion of a community influences the lives of those trapped within it.

While few will debate Lee's ability as a director, this isn't close to being in his wheelhouse. Oldboy cries out for a Brian DePalma, a Quentin Tarantino, or even a David Lynch. The end result bears out the suspicion that Lee isn't right for the material, nor it for him.

A few months from now, no one will remember it, but Homefront isn't made for the long-haul. It's assembled simply for the 100 minutes when the viewer is in theater and, on a certain level, that's sufficient.

It's simple and well-told, although nothing about it is breathtakingly original.

Nebraska is a rambling affair. It's about characters and dialogue. There's not much of a narrative to speak of - this is even more minimalist than "About Schmidt" or "Sideways."

Not great Disney but good enough to engage viewers young and old.

Calling Delivery Man a "comedy" is a bit of a stretch, because it's rarely funny. Dumb, yes, but not in a way that's worthy of more than a half-hearted chuckle.

The screen translation of Catching Fire, the second volume of the series, offers its audience many of the elements that made The Hunger Games compelling, but adds to that by deepening the themes and emotional currents and traveling to darker destinations.

After starting out as a character-based ensemble piece, The Best Man Holiday turns into a predictable affair determined to hit as many familiar beats as possible while striving to wring tears and cheers in equal quantities from its audience.

A misfire in far too many meaningful aspects, The Book Thief is so bad that it's tough to decide whether it's better used as a sleep aid or watched while under the influence as an object of derision.

The movie is pretty to look at in a "Transformers" sort of way and moves briskly enough that it never threatens to bore, but it's hard to feel much of anything about the characters and, when it's all over, there's a sense that everything that happens is obligatory.

Regardless of who sees or doesn't see Dallas Buyers Club, however, the movie does what it sets out to do by providing a striking portrait of a remarkable character and offering a history lesson to those too young to remember how things were for AIDS sufferers during the dark ages of the 1980s.

With more attention to detail, this could have worked, but the time travel aspects are so badly executed that the movie as a whole falters and eventually rips apart at the seams.

Sixteen years after her death, Princess Diana is still capable of generating interest, which is probably the only reason why this dull, pointless movie was greenlighted.

It has the sensibilities of a late-'80s/early-'90s forgettable big-screen sit com and probably won't find many interested viewers who aren't card-carrying AARP members.

Ender's Game is uneven - at times almost maddeningly so - with the first half offering more enjoyment than the second. Perhaps that's because, in military-style movies, I often prefer the training segments to the battle sequences.

Watching Blue is the Warmest Color provides viewers with that rarest of motion picture opportunities: the ability to lose oneself in the life of another for three hours and to emerge having felt something.

It's not so much a bad film as it is a disappointing one. A very disappointing one.

The film is unusual not so much because of its content - the man vs. nature story has always been a popular one, whether in print or on film - but in its restraint. Putting an actor, even an accomplished one such as Redford, alone on screen for more than 90 minutes is a risk.

12 Years a Slave is by no means light entertainment but it provides a more worthwhile cinematic experience than about 90% of what's out there and the impressions it leaves aren't easily dismissed or dispelled.

The heist-inspired elements aren't well thought through and it becomes a question of which is harder to swallow: the mechanics of the story or the idea that a couple of sixtysomethings can kick this much ass.

There are problems with De Palma's version, especially in its portrayal of the key relationship between Carrie and her mother, but it's a more engaging and insightful portrayal than Kimberly Peirce's too-slick remake.

Perhaps the most curious and counterproductive aspect of The Fifth Estate, the so-called "Wikileaks movie," is the decision by director Bill Condon and screenwriter Josh Singer to establish the film as a thriller.

Those who love Robert Rodriguez's over-the-top Grindhouse-flavored spoofs will delight in this one but, ultimately, this is probably one Machete too many.

This is a competent, technically proficient rendering that may find favor with those who have never seen Romeo & Juliet on the big screen but it's little more than a curiosity for those with a long history of watching Shakespeare's works translated to the cinema.

Captain Phillips works precisely because Hanks isn't a muscle-bound, gun-toting figure (nor does he turn into one during the course of the movie). Placed in an untenable position, he uses guile and intelligence instead of brawn and weapons to enhance his survival chances.

Various subplots are given short shrift and the whole thing feels more like a Cliff's Notes version of a longer piece than an actual finished motion picture.

Gravity isn't just a movie; it's almost transformative, and the visceral element is enhanced by the 3-D.