The story is minimal, just a series of events in the life of a young man and his circle, but every scene is rendered with such authenticity that it’s riveting, almost like it’s a privilege to be stepping back in time.

The Lazarus Effect is not the usual mindless thriller, but it’s as flat as an open soda from last week, with dull characters and virtually every scene taking place in a single location. It looks as if it cost about 12 bucks to make — and somebody got robbed.

The emotional core of the movie, the relationship between Nicky and Jess, lacks impact, mostly because you can’t believe a word that they say, but also because Smith is not a strong leading man.

An inspired and funny vampire comedy, one that’s more than just a smart premise but that remains fun and inventive from beginning to end.

Overall, though, Sandel’s film has heart, some good laughs, and a decent message. In this age of cyberbullying, that’s nothing to scoff at.

Even good stories are never quite like a movie, and to its credit McFarland, USA doesn’t try hard to be like a movie. It tries to be something like life.

It’s just bad. It’s boring, folks.

It tries to get by on charm, and like a lot of movies, and people who make that attempt, “Kingsman” does have charm — just not enough.

The enormous, make-or-break things are perfectly in place, and just that is enough for a reasonably enjoyable movie. But plot problems, some comically weak dialogue, repetitious scenes and a non-ending ending keep the experience a little more earthbound than it had to be.

The result is a movie that serves as little more than an excuse for Moore and Bridges to camp it up.

Director Gabe Polsky masterfully documents Fetisov’s triumphs — and sorrows.

To think of how people thought and acted just 45 years ago is to realize that the women in this film were the advance guard of the modern era. That makes them important, and they make this documentary important.

A film very much of its moment, in ways both good and bad. But the important thing is that its virtues are extraordinary, while its flaws are easy to forget because they’re so common.

Law often looks angry and frazzled onscreen. This time he looks angry and sure of himself.

It feels like living inside a pressure cooker with one particular family — experiencing their turbulence as if from the inside, while always a little glad to be watching from a safe distance.

With its unique concerns, unerring sense of calm balance, and haunting Celtic-referencing score, “Song” is a worthy entry into the Oscar conversation.

High on fun but low on depth, Project Almanac is told entirely from the perspective of a video camera, which instantly made me regret that I had eaten dinner before the screening.

To put it simply, people may be right and people may be wrong, but there are no right races or wrong races. A writer-director who chooses to have characters representing race and not themselves alone paints himself into a corner in which everyone in the movie absolutely must come out all right.

A so-so movie you just might want to see more than once. It belongs in a strange category: a film that can’t quite be called a success, that has too many dead spots, that doesn’t quite hang together or satisfy, and that yet is more interesting and occupies more space in the mind than other movies that are ostensibly and even unquestionably better.

What makes Aniston, of all actresses, especially right for Cake is that her comedy has always had a certain ruefulness underlying it, an understanding of life’s limits, a kind of glum acceptance. So the transition into sadness and desolation is a natural step for her.

This quirky film does the unexpected: It pours on the restraint, emphasizing the grit and making the romance as low key as possible. It’s an anti-romance romance.

Why Lopez decided to do this inept, cliche-infested film is anyone’s guess. She may be an actress of limited range, but her work includes solid movies like “Selena” and “Out of Sight.” Unfortunately, Lopez’s resume now includes this stinker. And we’re all the dumber for it.

This is highly skilled filmmaking, but the movie is not for everybody — the relationship involves dominance and submission, sexual games played at a high pitch. This material falls short of pornographic, but still packs plenty of erotic punch.

It’s sincere and intelligent — but it’s weak as a social statement and even weaker as drama.

Killers is the most gorgeous-looking torture porn film I have ever seen — and has a couple of tremendous action sequences. But it is also thoroughly disgusting.

Stewart. His role is so juicy and he is so good that Lillard and Gugino just can’t keep up. Stewart fans should see the film just to see him cut loose in an arena outside the “Star Trek” and “X-Men” franchises. He is, in fact, unmatched.

The plot movement feels very much like an unpleasant formality, shoved forward by tiresome devices.

Suffice it to say that this is good family fare with plenty of decent gags (visual and otherwise), and it’s nicely acted by all the principals. In addition, Julie Walters, Peter Capaldi and Jim Broadbent turn up in smaller but still lively roles.

Eastwood and screenwriter Jason Hall have made as good a film as could be made from the substance of Kyle’s life and career. But greatness was never a possibility, not with a protagonist not all that interesting and with the surrounding circumstances making it impossible to go deeper and risk the movie’s critique of Kyle’s becoming overt.

Blackhat is pretty much nonsense, which Mann directs with such misplaced energy and with such little natural instinct for the material that, for most of the running time, the movie’s problems seem entirely his fault.

For all the movie’s honesty, the reality of Alzheimer’s disease is a lot worse than what you see in Still Alice. Perhaps directors Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland made a calculation as to how much an audience can take. They were right.

The film jumps back and forth to Shirin’s unraveling relationship with her girlfriend, but what stands out are the funny, awkward, sometimes painful moments with her family and with various hook-ups — topped off by a delicate, nuanced and satisfying final scene.

If “Stand and Deliver” struck many as a hard-hitting look at life in the urban ghetto, Spare Parts seems like a Disney after-school special by comparison.

As a great New York story, it’s also a great American story about ambition and failure, about the kind of people who make it, the kinds who don’t, and all the things that can go wrong.

Respect is not something viewers will find much of in The Wedding Ringer, nor propriety, nor any of those things that make for respectable family viewing. It’s just a funny, impolite, very not-for-kids romp that goes there.

At its heart, The Babadook is a story of mother and son, whose relationship ultimately determines whether they survive the demon — or die trying.

This is a pretty good action movie with the added kick of Liam Neeson in the lead role.

Jeremy Irvine is the sympathetic focus, but it’s Noah Wyle who holds the movie together, as a former teacher who lost his job through a malicious student’s prank. Smart, self-possessed and capable, this fellow nonetheless carries himself with an awareness of some underlying guilt.

"Looper,” while confusing at times, never lets the act of time travel undermine the movie’s intelligence nor the integrity of the main protagonist. By contrast, Predestination is too clever for its own good, a film that relies on schtick and gimmicks rather than honest storytelling.

This is a remarkable performance, remarkable not only in its force, but in its strength and precision. Oyelowo is reason alone to see Selma, and if you need another reason, there’s Carmen Ejogo, as a lovely, strong and haunted Coretta Scott King.

Actually, Mom is the essential difference between Wahlberg and Caan. Caan has the glow of mother love on him. Wahlberg plays Jim as having made the adjustment to a lack of love, but in a twisted way. He's gambling now to see if the universe loves him.

Faithful but not slavishly faithful to the source, the movie retains most of the songs but streamlines the story, particularly in the second half.

One of these days, Angelina Jolie might very well direct a great movie. She has a rare talent and intense concerns and interests. But first she is going to have to suppress some self-defeating impulses that have now twice taken potentially effective films and rendered them ridiculous.

Shot for shot, Big Eyes is one of the most beautiful-looking movies of 2014, but to say that isn’t enough, because it’s not just pretty, not just pleasing to the eye. It’s visually astute. It is made by people aware of what these screen images mean, what they refer to, and the psychological effect that they will have on an audience.

No matter what you think of dumb comedies, The Interview, thanks allegedly to Kim, has gone from disposable to indispensible cinema. It’s a must-see movie in the context of what has happened, and will spark a discussion of, in comedy, how far is too far?

For art lovers, though, there is plenty to savor.

The movie isn’t really bad, just tepid, and it’s partly redeemed by a good lead performance.

This film is mainly for “Night at the Museum” diehards.

Fans of previous incarnations are advised to check their nostalgia at the door, while the uninitiated may simply check their brains.

As Bilbo, Freeman is a pleasure to watch to the extent we get to watch him. His timing is brilliant — he gets the movie’s only laughs. He has tremendous sensitivity and an ability to seem like he’s about to say something — and then convey it without saying it. He could have made a great Bilbo. Instead he’s the one thing that has made this trilogy bearable.

If the movie has a weakness, it’s that Zohar gets the most screen time, though she’s the least engaging character.

If there’s a surprise to Top Five, it’s the emotional undercurrent that Rock writes and Dawson brings out. What lingers hours later aren’t just the laughs but the people.

The Imitation Game is the one film that might have been better off longer. Starting the story in 1938 and just going through Turing’s life chronologically might have taken an extra 20 or 30 minutes, but it would have been worth it.

It’s not a question of believing it, exactly. Director Ridley Scott has simply made us want to be there, to wish we really were there, and to accept his illusion as the most ready answer to that desire.

The film raises significant questions about manhood and offers a few gripping sequences, but isn’t fully satisfying.

It’s entertaining and provides the tired vampire genre with a welcome infusion of fresh blood.

Miss Julie has almost everything — good actors, impeccable sets and direction rich in emotional detail — but it lacks madness and passion, and without those elements, it becomes a mere intellectual exercise.

The film’s strongest point of view is that big-time football has become a precious way of life and induces a religious fervor that can warp the judgment of even well-intentioned people. It’s not a groundbreaking thesis, but we still get a fascinating tour of a town that may never be the same again.

Wild has so many things in its favor that it’s tempting to leave out the fact that it’s a movie about a hike that sometimes feels like being on a hike, a long one, without many changes of scenery. But the movie’s achievement is that it overcomes this.

In all, it’s an absorbing, straightforward look at a truly alien environment. The film could be nicely paired with Werner Herzog’s “Encounters at the End of the World” (2007), a much more idiosyncratic view of Antarctic strangeness.

This advocacy documentary is never dull, but it tends to wander.

There’s plenty here to tickle the kids, and that’s what counts.

Horrible Bosses 2 is harsh and tasteless, not to mention broad and shameless, but that’s not a bad thing in this case. Softness and good taste, as well as restraint and carefulness, are the enemies of comedy, and “Horrible Bosses 2” is a very funny movie.

The only problem with The Better Angels is that it’s not nimble enough to vary its strategy or to find ways for the character of young Abe (Braydon Denney) to grow over the course of the movie.

This is a brave film, a unique way of exploring a taboo topic. The animation works on many levels, but at the end of the day, it’s about how art helps Signe overcome her madness. That’s a heartfelt message — and here it feels genuine.

The film occupies that peculiar space that many of us would prefer to believe doesn’t exist, a movie that’s worthy but often inert, by turns enriching and enervating: a good boring movie.

The experience of watching Foxcatcher is of constantly waiting for something to happen — and of giving up, long before something actually does.

Only in the movie business could someone sell such shoddy merchandise and expect people to buy it. If The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 1 were an appliance, it would be a broken toaster that people would toss in the garbage. Except that analogy is too kind, in that “Mockingjay” would be half a toaster.

The material is ripe for black comedy, but Stewart’s screenplay, staying true to Bahari’s real-life experience, steers a middle course. It’s sometimes scary, sometimes funny, and sometimes absurd, but never any of those things fully, or effectively.

Just in physical terms, Eddie Redmayne transformation’s into Stephen Hawking is something remarkable.

Goodbye to Language seems like an appropriate title if it’s meant to suggest that logic and sanity have completely disappeared from this world.

Follows the country pop singer on what has to be one of the most amazing farewell concert tours in music history.

As a work of art, the movie is merely on the bright side of OK. But as a vehicle for an emerging star, as a platform to show one actress in a variety of modes and moods, within a sympathetic and glamorous context, it couldn’t be better.

This is anti-funny, where every attempt at a joke is like a little rock thrown at your face.

The quiet machinations of this Frenchman and commodities trader helped win the release of Nelson Mandela from prison and bring an end to South Africa’s apartheid system.

The visuals are splendid. Even close-ups of face and hair are something to marvel at.

Be warned: This is not a movie for a first date. Or a second date. Or perhaps any date.

Despite its many virtues, Interstellar feels as if it doesn’t quite hit the target.

Before I Go to Sleep emerges as a mystery — one with a slow burn leading to a big payoff. But what keeps the movie going, beyond questions of what is true and what is false, are the issues raised by the illness itself.

The result is that a story with a couple of good ideas founders for lack of a third or fourth good idea. Still, any picture that features Radcliffe having a nervous breakdown for two hours has something to recommend it.

One need not be a jazz aficionado to enjoy this film. All that’s required is a smile.

So here’s the case of a movie that is, in every way, nothing special — except for the way it’s made and how it’s done.

An odd little concoction, a coming-of-age story that, only in passing, is also a mystery.

There should be drama here, but everything falls as flat as the withered valley floor. Not all is lost: The cinematography and special effects are quite competent. The script just leaves us thirsty for more.

There are moments that are too macabre and outlandish, but Gilroy steers the movie just this side of farce, just this side of Chayefsky, and keeps it all within a realistic framework. At times watching, you might wonder how he’ll keep the story going, how he’ll top himself. But he does.

Morro is a great character, and for the most part, the film is animal friendly and environmentally serious. In the end, Irving turns out to be a reliable narrator.

Listen Up Philip wants to say something meaningful about human relationships. But like a frustrated writer staring at a blank piece of paper, the words just never appear.

Director Jesse Moss was basically a one-man production crew, which explains how he was able to film such intimate, painful conversations. His work is haunting — one of the best documentaries of the year.

This is an important movie, but it’s not a perfect one. It has one enormous flaw, and it’s a testament to the smartness of the writing and the inherent fascination of its viewpoint that it doesn’t wreck the experience: Director Justin Simien doesn’t know how to shape scenes or pull performances from his actors.

Reeves’ skills are on glorious display in John Wick, an expertly made revenge drama in which he goes all headshot on lots and lots of bad guys, and it’s awesome.

Ouija has something wrong with it from the first five minutes.

And there lies the greatest flaw with Citzenfour and Snowden himself. Despite the film’s virtues, we’re no closer to understanding Snowden than we were a year ago when this saga began.

There’s the sense here that living in a tiny community can either make you bigger or smaller, and in 23 Blast we see both types, from the petty to the stoic and self-reliant.

This is a remarkable feat, not only of cinematography, but of choreography. Just to film Michael Keaton and Edward Norton walking down a Manhattan street, everything had to be timed as in a dance — when the camera swirls ahead, when it goes behind, when it swoops back around. It’s all accomplished so smoothly that it would be worth doing merely as a stunt, except this is no stunt. This method carries the mood and soul of one of the best movies of 2014.

What makes this movie work is the charisma of Crudup and that Macy and Co. don’t dwell on the events that led up to the shooting. Rather, they use the son’s death as a launching for Sam’s journey into accepting the loss and getting on with his life.

Lilting works because of the superb performances from its two leads, especially Whishaw, whose tortured gloom offers a striking contrast to the cool, unflappable “Q” role he presented in “Skyfall.”

The final 20 minutes are the strongest, when Harmon comes to some realizations about his behavior. Unless you’re the biggest of fans, you may find yourself wishing that the film had reached this point earlier.

The problem on which the movie turns is this: Bill Murray’s natural quality as an actor exudes self-knowledge and knowledge of the world. If he looks depressed, the aura suggests, it’s not because he knows less than we do. He knows more. Murray brings that quality to bear in St. Vincent, but it doesn’t fit.