Sensitive and highly visual, this Albert Magnoli-directed film is an accomplished and sophisticated example of storytelling. Even those who aren’t Prince fans are likely to be captivated by its energy, enamored with its simple, often poignant storyline.

Fall is Pretty Woman for socialists, a Capital-conscious fairy tale in which a nice guy not only attempts a perfect crime but wins the heart of a prostitute hitherto moved only by American dollars.

The flaws in The Garden Left Behind should not prevent anyone from appreciating the rich, compassionate story Alves has brought to the screen with such assurance, or the heroine Guevara has brought to life with such realism.

Wong is such a fine, subtle actor that it comes as a surprise to find him a superb martial artist as well, as he convincingly demonstrates the superiority of Ip Man’s technique over competing schools.

An appealing cast and slick period production values make this an entertaining enough retro bloodbath.

More dumb than funny.

Curiously, despite the ever-energetic Tony Scott at the throttle, the sleek new edition isn't as transporting as it should have been.

As an introduction to this mind-spinning festival, the film gets the job done.

Bored audiences enduring this talky, aimless film might wish that they, too, were watching the porno film that is seen only in brief snippets.

A fresh, young energetic cast is this wobbly musical comedy's main claim to "Fame."

Life’s a Breeze is breezy, lighthearted fun.

While it’s not without entertainment value, Motor City feels like it wants to be Don Siegel meets Michael Mann meets Walter Hill with a dash of John Woo, but ends up an ersatz version of all their work.

"Kings" covers familiar territory but does so with ruthless efficiency, intense performances and a densely packed plot designed to highlight the moral issues that most concern Ayer and Ellroy.

Unfortunately, as a director, Foster shows no knack or instinct for building tension; her style is strictly presentational, brisk and efficient, but with no sly trickery, desire to surprise or to forge technique that suggests an imaginative approach to storytelling.

Neither a no-nonsense delight like "She Loves You" nor the White Album-style head trip its premise might suggest, it's more of a "Yellow Submarine" sort of film: crowd-pleasing and sometimes enjoyable, but pretty damned dumb when you stop to think about it.

At a lean, mean 90 minutes or so, Ambulance might have been a guilty pleasure. Instead, it’s the sort of cinematic thrill ride so overstuffed that you can’t wait for it to be over.

Where the final minutes of the movie suffer from clumsy storytelling, most of what precedes them sits well within the romantic finding-oneself comfort zone, and Solo, while not able to imbue her character with Amelie-like spark, helps keep things from getting treacly.

Here the burn can be too slow to handle at times, as if the gas had been forever left at medium-low heat. You're ultimately left wanting more from a movie that tries to drift away from the usual policier template, even though shots are fired and bodies drop.

DeMonaco has further upped his game with the third installment by working closely with franchise cinematographer Jacques Jouffret to design rewardingly more complex action sequences and well-focused set pieces that are both efficiently executed and visually engaging.

While only sporadically effective in its attempt at creating a modern-day Psycho, Forgetting the Girl does manage to sustain a sufficiently disturbing mood that is not easily forgotten.

The Boogeyman, in both its literary and cinematic forms, is undoubtedly relatively minor King. But when it’s done this well, even minor King is major scary.

Awfully dull, with scant evidence of the sort of things that make horror movies attractive -- like mounting suspense and spine-tingling creepiness and, oh yeah, the element of horror.

Wendy in every way feels like a handmade, one-of-a-kind, exceptionally fresh and — one hesitates to use the word — organic piece of work that quite quickly imparts a desire to see it again.

Actor-turned-helmer Bill Paxton has fashioned solid family entertainment in this well-cast feature.

The result is something like an old-fashioned Costa-Gavras film but without the leftist sentimentality.

The film's satirical commentary about the intersection of politics and art is rarified, to be sure, but there is enough pointed humor in its execution to make The Juche Idea a provocative if intellectually challenging experience.

Despite its occasionally stale elements, the film succeeds movingly thanks to the inherent power of its narrative and the terrific performances by Boosher and the four young actresses (Amber Afzali, Nina Hosseinzadeh, Sara Malal Rowe, and Mariam Saraj) as the team members.

The actors' raw honesty and the unvarnished authenticity of the Southeast Texas environment lend weight to this slow-burn drama about responsibility, even if its storytelling is unrelentingly downbeat and lacks muscularity.

Part musical, part love story, part family melodrama, part inspirational treacle, Tyler Perry's latest movie, I Can Do Bad All by Myself is something of an unholy mess. Alternately stupefying and entertaining, the film does benefit from a strong cast.

Boyne's tale is starkly cautionary, and writer-director Herman handles a difficult topic with great sensitivity, drawing splendid performances from his young actors with David Thewlis and Vera Farmiga and the other grown-ups reliably efficient.

The sunny, soap-and-water characters and thoroughly upbeat message may not be the stuff great films are made of, but in Jackie & Ryan the modesty of the story, the simple story-telling and honest emotions all come together in a satisfying whole.

The film struggles to maintain the verve of this opening sequence (which nails a specific anxiety of liberal middle-class Black people), subsequently becoming a series of set pieces — some more energetic than others — in search of a thesis.

The film yearns to capture the stages of this emotional exhumation, but a clunky screenplay makes for a less affecting watch.

A luminous performance from Cate Blanchett lies at the heart of Joel Schumacher's impressive drama.

A meticulously rendered romantic drama, very well acted and featuring solid production values and location work that makes New York feel like one of the movie's characters. The only problem is the story is rather flat.

Easily one of the most dynamic cinematic portraits of that decaying, vibrant, impossible city ever made; it treats the city itself as a character.

I wish I could say I found Hot Milk affecting, but it’s continually dragged down by inertia, by a writer-director whose approach is too intellectual to give space to emotion.

If the impact of co-director/writer Reed Cowan's film is undercut by its sometimes sloppy execution, it nonetheless provides a disturbing portrait of the increasing overlap between church and state.

The picture survives its excesses thanks to winning chemistry between stars Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg, who animate banter-heavy dialogue and click so well one wonders why they haven't shared the screen before.

This ungainly portrait strikes a lot of poses, as if inviting the viewer to admire its impressive cast list, fine period detailing, "cheeky" British humor, and insouciant attitude towards violence. But none of it disguises the fact that the film is also tonally incoherent, vacuous and structurally a bleedin' mess.

Don't Come Knocking expresses itself with deadpan humor, striking imagery, Western iconography and outbursts of strong emotions.

There are just enough laugh-out-loud moments here to excuse the lurches into shameless, tear-jerking sentimentality.

The film is so refined and filled with good taste, not to mention poetry citations and dialogue rendered with quotations marks, that it often feels inert.

Expertly tossing off the type of well-sharpened banter that was the domain of Gable and Lombard and Tracy and Hepburn, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie -- no matter what their off-camera status -- make one swell combative couple.

Like most films in this underdog genre, the emotional manipulation of the audience is constant and obvious.

Though Safe initially seems a little darker and more thoughtful than the British star's previous comic-book escapades in "Death Race," "The Expendables" or the "Transporter" trilogy, it ultimately reverts to testosterone-heavy formula.

M. Night Shyamalan’s latest is well cast and strong on setting. But the dull thudding that resounds isn’t part of its effective aural design; it’s the ungainly landing of nearly every shock and joke.

This family comedy adventure from Walden Media is likable in a scruffy way. Its characters, especially the youngest one, are engaging, and few adults are immune to childhood fantasies about secluded tropical isles.

It’s windy and overstuffed, frequently baffling and way too talky, quoting Hamlet and The Tempest, Marcus Aurelius and Petrarch, ruminating on time, consciousness and power to a degree that becomes ponderous. But it’s also often amusing, playful, visually dazzling and illuminated by a touching hope for humanity.

Whether they’re filing ridiculous complaints about each other to the unflappable mayor (Michel Blanc), arguing over the proper presentation of ingredients or sharing a cafe table, Mirren and Puri bring an effortless command to their roles.

One is grateful to have Momoa for company. Unlike some strutters who can't hide how delighted they are to show off their trainer-honed bods, Momoa wears his superb physique casually and his take-it-or-leave-it, devil-may-care attitude makes the narrative's long haul much easier to bear than would otherwise have been the case.

Despite some promising moments, the project never quite takes flight, partly thanks to mismatched performances that don't seem to agree on how quirky this film intends to be.

Despite the story's elements of suspense, loss and determination, though, the picture has a mundane, low-stakes vibe that fails to make the most of its inspirational content.

Sticks to formula but delivers some seriously dumb laughs.

For those who prefer their gingerbread soaked in booze and their tinsel splattered with gore, Violent Night might be exactly what the season calls for.

Marianne Faithfull is unforgettable as a middle-class, middle-aged frump …in Sam Garbarski's crowd-pleasing comedy-drama Irina Palm.

Reminds you of an elaborate Christmas card that tumbles apart with pop-up figures, silly/charming greetings and perhaps even a jingle. It probably cost more than the gift it heralds, and you can't help but laugh at the audacity of such an aggressively cheerful card.

It's a competent, by-the-numbers action melodrama.

In nearly every scene, Wahlberg carries off the central role with what could be called determined elan.

Ultimately has the air of a home movie project blown up to feature-length proportions.

Unfortunately, despite its intriguing premise, Mr. Harrigan’s Phone lacks the necessary ingredient to make it truly memorable; it simply isn’t very scary.

This long-gestating stand-alone showcase for the Fastest Man Alive is enjoyable entertainment, even if it spends more time spinning its wheels than reinventing them.

Ultimately suffers from an overabundance of plot and a paucity of depth, but it does provide some fleeting comic pleasures along the way.

Casa feels like a miss. The digging into each of these women's lives stays shallow and seldom uncovers anything unexpected.

Cruises along agreeably on the easy chemistry between Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson, who step in where Paul Michael Glaser and David Soul left off.

Repetitive and ultimately a victim of its own hysteria, the U.K. indie is nonetheless an impressive exercise in high-tech gothic style, with a convincingly deranged Lee Evans.

A technically ramshackle affair whose primary attribute is Tukel’s deadpan comic performance and self-deprecating willingness to portray his character as a total dick.

Unassuming but warm and thoroughly involving.

Spirited owes its buoyancy primarily to the lively rapport of Ferrell and Reynolds, ultimately playing out the movie’s most convincing love story.

Rounding up all the original's stars and throwing several more surviving human characters into the mix, the pic is plenty entertaining for those of us who, paradoxically, find zombies comforting in dark times.

Promised Land presents its environmental concerns in a clear, upfront manner but hits some narrative and character bumps in the second half that weaken the impact of this fundamentally gentle, sympathetic work.

It is a pleasure to see Weisz's scenes of scientific inquiry, which capture the passion of research and discovery without artifice or pretension. That the scientist is a woman makes it all the more engaging.

Eminently entertaining ... Sure, it shamelessly panders to our collective sense of duty to support the troops — and, of course, also support the families that support the troops — and maybe it's more than a little manipulative and formulaic. But gosh darn it, it's hard not to warm to a film that features an a cappella version of Yazoo's "Only You," a near-derelict car that may or may not be called Shite Rider and Kristin Scott Thomas having a verbal catfight in a parking lot.

Sanders and DeMicco’s script doesn’t have the robust plotting, consistent wit or flavorful character development of the best family animation. And some of the voice actors have too little to work with.

The filmmaker, who co-founded ADI with his wife Jan Creamer, documents the dramatic developments in compelling cinema verite fashion.

The foursome (most of whom will be in their 30s by the middle of 2015) have long since settled comfortably into their roles, and there's pleasure to be gleaned from the simple physical and verbal rough-housing of their interactions.

The story moves along in fairly predictable beats, including the inevitable denouement in which Jack's deception is exposed. But it's effective nonetheless, thanks to the authentic-feeling depiction of the physical and emotional toll of caring for an autistic child.

Heartfelt, if not entirely satisfying, Walk With Me provides an up-close glimpse of the life of devotion, focusing on the monks and nuns who live at a rural monastery led by Zen Buddhist master Thich Nhat Hanh.

Despite the unique premise and some truly inspired casting, the picture remains stuck in an existential rut of its own.

Manages to stand on its own two skyscraper heels thanks to the comic force of nature that is Anna Faris.

Rendition tackles the concern in a heavy-handed thriller with simplistic characters and manipulative story lines.

If you could take the Shrek, Happy Feet and Smurfs movies, toss them in a blender and hit the pulse button a few times, the result would be a pretty reasonable approximation of Trolls, an admittedly vibrant-looking but awfully recognizable animated musical comedy concoction.

A scruffy underdog yarn that will appeal not only to kids but also to their thirty- or fortysomething parents.

The film expertly captures the tensions in the Austrian capital on the eve of Hitler’s takeover, and it also manages to be a vibrant coming-of-age story and an intriguing portrayal of Sigmund Freud, expertly portrayed by Bruno Ganz.

As an update to his 2002 effort on the same subject, Biggie and Tupac, this film provides new testimony about Knight and the alleged role of corrupt LAPD cops in Smalls’ murder. But it mostly proves a tired rehashing of familiar material that doesn’t justify its 105-minute running time.

Perfect Sense is dense: It's a very complex and intelligent story hybrid that, must have looked great on paper and sounded impressive in discussion, but as a movie, it splatters all over the screen in unsatisfying genetic mutations.

This portrait of influential U.N. diplomat Sergio Vieira de Mello benefits immensely from two magnetic leads, Wagner Moura and Ana de Armas, whose onscreen chemistry is undeniable; but its deft sense of structure is of equal importance, making it an engrossing picture even for those who know next to nothing about its subject or settings.

The Disney picture should handily score a direct hit to its targeted young female demographic as well as striking a chord with their big sisters, moms and aunts.

Stefan Haupt's (The Circle) documentary Sagrada: The Mystery of Creation explores the building's tortured history and the current efforts to bring it to fruition, but in a disappointingly dull style that fails to do justice to its outsized inspiration.

Director Andrew Levitas and his co-screenwriters dramatize a riveting story using a mass of groan-worthy genre clichés that ill-serve the truth they are trying to recreate.

It's a piece of unabashed myth-making from first-time writer-director Sunny Abberton, himself a member of the infamous surf tribe from the working-class beachside suburb of Maroubra, in Sydney.

A generic blast, Hobo with a Shotgun unspools like a spaghetti western but amped with enough testosterone to fill a video-game warehouse.

Propelled by enthusiastic reviews, the entertaining but ultimately disappointing documentary will entice the fashion-forward and fashion-curious.

In the end, this is a smart movie that could have been smarter. The script feels like it was a draft or so away from total clarity and focus. But the energy of the cast and a dive into an unfamiliar world make the movie rather addictive.

Things hold together longer than they would have without Banderas' commanding, committed performance.

Stölzl's film falls gently between the stools of high-brow camp and genuine seduction by its many period charms, fine actors and lovely landscapes.

As is often the case with directors who adapt their own life-histories, there's the sense that a little too close to his material.

There's no way for all this to resolve that isn't fairly absurd. But Morelli's light touch generally keeps the goofiness from becoming tiresome, especially given the help of some quirktronica compositions by Kid Koala on the soundtrack.