The standout in Win Win is Alex Shaffer, a former New Jersey state champion cast as Kyle.

The sermons are subtle, raising the film's chances of crossing over to secular audiences. Soul Surfer is so clean that it squeaks, but sometimes that's a nice change of pace.

Brand is amusing, in a nutty "Get Him to the Greek" sort of way, while Moore delivered one of the funniest performances ever.

A fitfully entertaining movie in an awkward position; too arty for the action crowd yet too unsubtle for more refined tastes.

Hop is harmless, which is the worst best thing to be said for any movie. It never decides whether to be a kiddie flick or a grownup lark and winds up as neither. As Roger might say: "Puh-puh-puh-puhleeze, don't waste your time."

A tidy terror flick, and refreshing with its intention to make viewers gasp rather than gag.

White-knuckle fun.

It's all megalomaniacal junk from Snyder, but that isn't his most offensive move.

Nothing to skip school over but at least it's not in 3-D. No sense in paying an extra ticket charge for something belonging on TV, anyway.

The next step in Matthew McConaughey's inevitable march to network television is The Lincoln Lawyer, a pilot disguised as a feature-length movie, with an entire season's arc crammed into two hours.

For two hours it's a fun head trip.

What nags me about Battle Los Angeles is that Liebesman never realizes what he set up to happen after the fade-out.

This movie embraces its inner yokel.

A timid new take on the old fairy tale, and it's pretty grim.

Rango is wild, woolly and weird, and the first movie of 2011 that I must see again.

This is a solid, sincere affirmation of faith and forgiveness. Praise the Lord, and pass the popcorn.

Unknown is finely tuned pulp filmmaking, a dumb movie with a smart veneer, which is nothing to sneeze at.

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

A comedy as lazy as Sandler's previous boondoggles.

Yes, The Eagle is as bad as it sounds but also entertaining, in a "Mystery Science Theater 3000" sort of way that Macdonald didn't intend.

The soundtrack is a small marvel of music hall tunes and dialogue that is mostly garbled, allowing expressions and body language to be interpreted.

I'm not sure there's anything else to take away from this film besides Manville's performance and gratitude that we aren't these people.

A movie that wouldn't get much attention if the creator of "Titanic" and "Avatar" (as the ads overhype) weren't tangentially involved.

Sounds depressing, but Blue Valentine is a reminder that well-measured and expertly acted pain is as thrilling to watch as 3-D spectacle.

It's a one-note character that Bardem builds into a complex emotional chord, lessening the urge to dismiss Biutiful solely as an endurance test for viewers.

Yes, there is a hell, and this movie is showing at its local multiplex.

This is old-school monumental filmmaking, without CGI tricks or many soundstage comforts for a dedicated cast. David Lean would probably approve.

Doesn't revolutionize the romantic comedy like "(500) Days of Summer," or even match the Farrellys or Judd Apatow for clever smut. But it is cheerful raunch delivered by a solid cast.