The Avengers is as brawny and lamebrainy as any comic book movie deserves to be, capped by a 40-minute assault pummeling senses as few action sequences ever have.

Hamm makes for a compelling guide, Bogart-weary and mind racing, assessing each situation with a readable face for the camera. Beirut won’t make him a bigger movie star, but more interesting actors are tough to find.

Chronicle is so clever about the absurd, and so much fun to watch, that I'm almost disappointed the ending doesn't leave room for a sequel.

On film, Into the Woods feels tighter, the tone more cohesive.

It is brilliant and spectacular to a superlative degree with scenes that are nothing less than astonishing in their magnificence. [16 Apr 1936, p.2]

Like its predecessor, Gremlins 2 is a fun, roller-coaster ride of fiendish pranks and spilled gremlin innards. [15 Jun 1990, p.6]

Parker makes an assured feature filmmaking debut, with poetic imagery and powerful narrative.

Like Hi and Ed, Raising Arizona has a few problems. The repeated slapstick chases and fights are a little wearisome, and the final showdown between Hi and the biker is badly overdrawn, and gratuitously violent in the DePalma- Cronenberg style. Still, there is something appealing about a film that lists "baby wrangler" among the credits. And little T. J. Kuhn is liable to start a "critter boom" all by his lonesome. [10 Apr 1987, p.1D]

Like Lone Survivor and Deepwater Horizon before, Patriots Day is a brawny procedural, more than the exploitation flick it could be. Berg and Wahlberg's commitment to details beyond death and destruction feels like a calling.

While The Hidden never manages to meld Aliens with Blue Velvet - that appears to be Hunt's intention. It has a kinky charm that fuels it full throttle throughout. [30 Oct 1987, p.5D]

I expected, even wanted to cry at The Fault in Our Stars, or at least choke up a little. Yet the transparent eagerness of this movie to break hearts, through means not entirely justifying that end, always pulled me back.

This movie embraces everything that should make it lousy, calling out itself for aping the source's bad ideas then flipping the script with meta precision.

Liman handles the spy stuff with Bourne-again flair, especially the opener when Valerie proves her mettle during an assignment to secure a snitch.

Rocker John Mellencamp's attempt at making an honest little movie about the tribulations of a country star who tries to go home again doesn't just fall from grace. It falls flat on its, er, face. [17 Apr 1992, p.15]

The problem isn't entirely Lehane's script... It's the way Belgian director Michael R. Roskam, making his English language debut, is so visually uninspired by all this meanness.

Wright is an insanely funny filmmaker (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz) yet only the front half of that description carries over to Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.

A League of Their Own is a grand-slam comic drama. Superbly written, acted and directed. [1 July 1992, p.1D]

Like its predecessors, A Dry White Season is too reserved to effectively depict the hell of South Africa. Its most powerful moments occur in the courtroom, in jail cells and morgues filled with dead black children when its starched white protagonist is safely off-screen. [06 Oct 1989, p.6]

Lin siphons elements of his previous gig into this one. More precisely, he accentuates the existing "family" dynamic of Star Trek, leading to genuinely earned lumps in Trekker throats.

Doremus captures each insipid moment with hand-held camera urgency and clumsy jump cuts.

What lifts Equity above ordinary corporate melodrama is its staunchly feminine perspective, and not only in its lead character.

Leaner than "Harry Potter's" adventures, meaner than the "Twilight" saga, The Hunger Games lives up to its source if not entirely the hype.

Otomo's masterwork uses its brilliantly detailed images to illustrate an epic commentary on the choices that face society and the possibilities for destruction in the near future. [15 Jun 1990, p.7]

Pig in the City is a blatant, heartless attempt to turn a surprise hit into a cash cow. That simply won't do, pig. [25 Nov 1998, p.1D]

There are laughs that stick in your throat, when they aren't broad strokes shattering a forlorn mood that occasionally makes the movie feel like a companion piece to "Magnolia," or any film depicting downbeat people realizing they have more sorrow in common than expected.

Deepwater Horizon is a brawny hybrid of technical expertise and real-life tragedy, with neither quality getting shortchanged.

End of Watch is a repellent movie, first for its shaky-cam conceit rendering much of the action incomprehensible, and finally for seeking to entertain viewers through the thuggish execution of a police officer.

The plot is a piffle but Ozon's presentation is gloriously romantic.

In a movie year of more than two dozen animated films, this and "Rango" tower over all others. Welcome to America, Tintin. It's great getting to know you.

The Conjuring is a throwback to old-school spine tingling, although this movie is less Halloween theme ride and more 1970s post-"Exorcist" terror.

The Homesman isn't as confident with balancing madness and dark humor as Jones' only previous directing job, 2005's border odyssey The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. This movie's switchback plotting ambles from crisis to comical, threatening to maintain a tone but not for long.

Next to Swinton's excellent portrayal of a woman on the edge of a nervous breakdown, the movie belongs to the two Kevins, young actors with matching arched eyebrows and sullen expressions.

Early Man proudly retains Park’s simple/not simple Plasticine pleasures.

The East is a crackling thriller and a political statement tough to peg.

Scene by scene, Batman Returns is more outrageous, inventive and fun than the original Batman. Yet, by its apocalyptic ending, Batman Returns is in danger of collapsing under its own weight. [19 June 1992, p.22]

By all accounts, Boston mobster James "Whitey" Bulger was a monster. That's exactly how Johnny Depp plays him in Black Mass, a dark blob of underworld cliches and bad contact lenses.

Quentin Tarantino's The Hateful Eight is vile art, bludgeoning viewers for three hours with indefensibly gratuitous race baiting and blood.

Robinson's screenplay covers all of its bases by the midway point, and then a framing device of Marston being interrogated by a cultural watchdog (Connie Britton) hammers his theories flat.

Chuck is a character study of fleeting fame in prolonged decline, anchored by Liev Schreiber's brutish charisma in the title role.

Graphically thinking outside the box, the Lonely Island comedy team makes a decent splash with Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, an SNL spinoff that generally works.

Director Chad Stahelski — Reeves' stunt double for Point Break and The Matrix — aims only for a kinetic revenge yarn with wrinkles drive-in movie critic Joe Bob Briggs might appreciate, like martial arts moves at point blank bullet range; what he'd call gun fu.

The jokes are often double-edged, the performances always spot-on. The Way, Way Back doesn't re-invent the teenage turning point genre, but Faxon and Rash offer a breezy new spin. You'll see more inventive movies this year but few more endearing.

Avalon is a crowning effort by Levinson. He could stop making movies today and be satisfied with his Baltimore trilogy. [19 Oct 1990, p.6]

Feels like half of a good movie, much of it revealed in admittedly thrilling trailers.

My Cousin Vinny is a mildly entertaining courtroom comedy that ultimately must be judged guilty of disappointment. Lynn and Launer's pop-movie mentality wastes a great idea and some terrific performances. [13 Mar 1992, p.10]

It's a story languorously told in three chapters, the first two in the late 1980s and the third 15 years later. Each could be a movie unto themselves. Together they prove Cianfrance to be an effectively unobtrusive storyteller, crafting without artifice what book critics would call a page turner.

While the first half of The Rescuers Down Under is breathtakingly magnificent, the second half is slower than a sloth. [16 Nov 1990, p.7]

Lethal Weapon is harder-edged than Beverly Hills Cop. It never forgets that it's a detective story, an action-adventure with a dash of cheer. Its climax can stop pacemakers at mid-beat. Trash rarely has been this much fun. [06 Mar 1987, p.1D]

It takes a while for Arteta's ideas to click but his finale begins as revenge served cold and ends with chilling symbolism.

There's a subtle wisdom to this screenplay that complements its exceedingly bad taste, small lessons among the laughs.

Despite wild deviations in spiritual themes and execution, nothing in Noah approaches sacrilege or surrender, making this an acutely sensible biblical epic. It may simply be too strange for the masses to notice.

Part two is even more gorgeous to behold, and deeper in substance.

Robot & Frank occasionally strains for emotion and stretches credulity, even for such fantasy circumstances. But it has two hearts - one human, one not - in the right place, and intelligence that is anything but artificial.

Director Dave McCary maintains a suitably goofy tone and inspired casting (Hamill, Greg Kinnear, Claire Danes) make for a pleasantly uneven experience.

Running on Empty, for all its implausibilities and pseudo-radical bourgeois banter, is an unusually engaging movie. [14 Oct 1988, p.10]

This is a soulless endeavor that would alarm if Ford devised it on his own. Instead, he shares blame with Austen Wright's novel Tony and Susan, adapted into parallel narratives; one empty, the other leaking blood.

Like its predecessor T2 Trainspotting aggressively shocks and charms, a singular example of cinematic bravura now improbably duplicated.

There are no boundaries in this movie, so deal with it or leave.

Writer-director Shelton builds his story around Starr's and Long's scandalous affair, capturing Long's unprecedented bid for a fourth gubernatorial term and his fight against Louisiana's voter registration law, which disenfranchised illiterate blacks. Through Long's eccentric and purportedly immoral behavior, Shelton captures the last gasp of American innocence when public officials could do as they pleased with minimal scrutiny by the press. Handsome, fulfilling, though not entirely perfect movie. [13 Dec 1989, p.1D]

Man Bites Dog is a strange, undeniably powerful hybrid of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer and This is Spinal Tap; a jaw-dropper that takes your breath away with its scabrous mayhem, then replaces it with an uneasy chuckle. [5 Nov 1993, p.7]

Soderbergh doesn't always match his pacing to Mallory's fury.

How many surprises and peaks can Walken possibly have left, after so many movies and memorable roles? Well, there's this one.

Good Morning, Vietnam moves fitfully, as it should. Like Tin Men and Diner, there's an underbelly of sadness here. Audiences expecting an all-out Robin Williams comedy may feel shortchanged. The banter in Good Morning, Vietnam is lively, but its mood has the melancholy bitterness of truth. [15 Jan 1988, p.6]

As a director, Clooney makes his most straightforward movie yet, although it's static at times due to the stage origins of Willimon's material.

It defies convention. It breaks taboos. It isn't a pleasant experience, but it is challenging. [21 June 1991, p.7]

FernGully...The Last Rainforest is surprisingly fun for being the first politically correct, environmentally conscious full-length animated film. [10 Apr 1992, p.5]

I adore The Perks of Being a Wallflower for its honest, unsentimental feel, which gets stretched a bit in the revelatory finale, but by then I didn't mind.

A feel-good movie in the most positive meaning of that term, thanks to the Motown music and O'Dowd's cheeky charm.

Furious 7 is so entertaining that you don't notice Dwayne Johnson is missing from action much of the time, only that he kills it when he shows up.

James Gunn's second spin with Marvel's interplanetary misfits still entertains but this time the fun feels forced. Gone is the original's scrappy underdog spirit and a director operating like it's his only chance to make a movie.

What undercuts Deep Cover is its convoluted, talky and ultimately predictable screenplay written by Henry Bean and Michael Tolkin. [15 Apr 1992, p.1D]

The first film that comes close to capturing the Bohemian flair and everyman accents of Generation X life while remaining a first-rate piece of entertainment. Stiller and his knowing screenwriter Helen Childress fashioned a wise, very funny film that brightens the slow early going of 1994. [18 Feb 1994, p.6]

Arachnophobia is a movie spun as carefully as a cobweb, and a whole lot more likeable than you'd expect from a film about creepy crawlers chomping on townsfolks. Credit first-time director Frank Marshall for the success as he expertly wrangles cast and spiders into an entertaining, three-star movie that moves so swiftly along that there's barely a minute to catch your breath. [20 July 1990, p.18]

In an age of digital chaos and deep emotional themes The Peanuts Movie keeps things sweet and simple, perfectly in tune with the qualities Schulz fans adore.

Giamatti is a superb expressionist of emotional flotsam, with a Golden Globe for his effort.

Schepisi & Co. appear to have forgotten a tenet of film making: A moving picture needs to move to succeed. [21 Dec 1990, p.6]

Barbershop: The Next Cut's heart is in the right place, and I enjoyed nearly every unkempt minute of it.

With everything it's doing all over again, The Book of Life often finds fresh ways to do it. That's all it takes.

This Cinderella is achingly old-fashioned, with scant humor, a regressive heroine and godmother effects that aren't special.

The Witches of Eastwick is a theme park without a theme. Like Nicholson and his co-stars, Miller doesn't have a lot on his mind. He just wants to have fun. His movie is organized mayhem, a strange and funny tour de force. [15 June 1987, p.1D]

A singular look, an exemplary vocal cast, and a narrative arc like a caress. That'll be the Kung Fu Panda franchise's legacy, the idea that shouldn't have worked but did, beautifully and with its own chi.

The roller coaster of events more than compensates for the film's inane dialogue. Innerspace is the stuff summer adventure is made of. [1 July 1987, p.1D]

It's a welcome chance to learn more about Lisbeth Salander, the kinky, punk hacker and pop culture phenom played by Noomi Rapace.

As usual, psychological anguish is a key element of Marvel heroes. Age of Ultron boasts a cast of actors that "serious" filmmakers would kill for, so the gravitas they're capable of conveying amid such outlandish fantasy is the franchise's stealth advantage.

Succeeds where "Thor" didn't and the "Incredible Hulk" hasn't, twice. Unlike those drags, director Joe Johnston keeps things relatively simple and pleasantly stupid.

Never Here is a moody inversion of the stalker genre, less of a thriller than a Lynchian thinker. Thoman has a bright future and we'll say we knew her when.

Is it funny? Absolutely. Sausage Party also gets a bit exhausting, even running under 90 minutes. We're hearing essentially the same dirty jokes over and over, in a movie saved by its brilliantly filthy finale.

Eastwood is absolutely the wrong actor to play Huston, called John Wilson in White Hunter, Black Heart. Eastwood is tense and tightly coiled, while Huston was gleefully bombastic. [12 Oct 1990, p.7]

It's good to know Solondz hasn't lost his ability to shock, or his indifference to anyone thinking he goes too far. Wiener-Dog is gentler material than usual for him, sweet, even goofy at times, yet no comfier than a sandpaper hug.

Even in repetitive or undernourished moments Keaton, Offerman and Lynch always entertain. Their performances have fallen through the cracks of awards season.

Frantic is an engrossing character study, but as a thriller it sometimes relies on cliches. For starters, the whole mess is triggered by a case of mixed-up suitcases. A drug shipment? No, worse: a device that could give some Arab bad guys nuclear weapons. Several action scenes are lifted from the Hitchcock style, but they don't capture the master's sense of suspense. Polanski weaves in moments of dark humor amid all the intrigue. [01 Mar 1988, p.1D]

Fast Five is brawny dumb fun, nothing more but that's enough.

Writer-director Martin McDonagh's followup to his more cohesive "In Bruges" is a middle finger to cliches "Pulp Fiction" wrought, while garishly reveling in the same hyper-ironic, pop referenced ultraviolence it lampoons.

Megan Leavey does the feel-good job everyone intends, an interesting story straightforwardly told. Cowperthwaite and Mara won't get a fraction of Wonder Woman's audience yet deserve as much respect.

Coppola's movie has a sense of indie vitality, although the energy feels wasted by running in place.

Q & A marks Lumet's return to stride after Family Business, Running on Empty and The Morning After. When he deals with New York, cops and corruption, he can't be surpassed. [27 Apr 1990, p.6]

Horror is an impatient person's game these days, and Crimson Peak isn't hurried at all. It seduces with creepily erotic atmosphere, and performances in perfect tune with the script's melodrama.

Spielberg doesn't pull heart strings as much as push the right buttons, dutiful to an undercooked story. The BFG begins like a classic fairy tale and ends with helicopters and fart jokes, a tonal dissonance that is Dahl's fault, not the film's.