The film is saved to some degree by the unstinting commitment of Ronan and Mescal, sweating it out in an environment that’s stifling both physically and psychologically. But the screenplay becomes so overwrought that it smothers any emotional connection to them.

It's overblown and extravagant business as usual.

This dour, uninspired, Hispanic-themed variation on the profitable "Step Up" dance movies is unlikely to similarly rouse teens.

The film’s attempt at blending humor, poignancy and melodrama results in an awkward mish-mosh. But it has heart to spare, and the performances by the multi-generational ensemble are very effective, with particularly moving work by the veterans in the cast.

With its uneven performances and purposeful touches of theatrical artifice, Alligator Girl is finally more distancing than involving.

A sad demonstration that what was once considered outrageous, transgressive and anarchic now just seems crass, tired and witless.

Proves lightly entertaining in spite of its more heartfelt tendencies.

Stripped for action without a moment wasted on unnecessary dialogue, exposition or nuances.

A Spanish-language black comedy with a frenetic style that plays out like regurgitated Tarantino and Guy Ritchie.

The film works best when Waititi gets out of his own way and lets the characters speak for themselves instead of self-consciously extinguishing any warmth with jokes.

The director's split-screen effects and hand-held digital camerawork go from being innovative to repetitive to irritating in a Santa Cruz minute.

Clever enough to provoke a few abrupt laughs along the way, this big screen debut for two television stalwarts, director Matt Shakman (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) and writer Robert Patino (Sons of Anarchy, Prime Suspect), is sabotaged by some frightfully on-the-nose expository dialogue and an adamantly prosaic visual style.

The conflicts feel just a tad too routine and the characters too thinly drawn to get the blood flowing.

Perhaps the best way to appreciate the picture, its few intellectual pretensions notwithstanding, is as a classy horror film with a particularly nasty edge. It's not exactly entertainment, but it casts a poisonous spell.

The movie is all tease and no follow-through, letting its story leak out in dribs and drabs that fail to gather any momentum or meaning, let alone mystery.

Only the talents of its estimable cast, also including Pierce Brosnan and Minnie Driver, manage to make it worth checking out.

In the end, the gimmick is too risible and its effects on the characters too forced to sustain either suspense or horror.

Motivated by an earnest need to inspire, Schmidt's debut suffers from stiffness but improves as it goes, the tension of its plot overcoming many dramatic failings.

It all adds up to somewhat less than the sum of its parts, but it's made palatable by the well-evoked rural atmosphere and the typically expert performances by the two leads.

Some of the surprises in store play better than others.

Auggie is purposefully grim in style and execution, moving at a snail's pace and seemingly photographed in drab shades of gray. Although its running time is a mere 81 minutes, the pic seems to last forever.

In short, it's a long-arc revenge tale fitted out with very elaborate effects, courtesy of Peter Jackson's Wingnut Films, and characters that are moderately decent company but hardly compelling.

Cheese and kitsch, with smatterings of blood and decapitated heads, are all on the menu in Dracula, which is a watchable if totally ludicrous version of the Stoker story. At best, the movie is another showcase for the always-interesting-to-watch Caleb Landry Jones.

Modest comedy-drama.

Throughout, Asante raises questions about bravery, conscience and, most of all, identity.

Thanks to sturdy performances by holdovers Michael Sheen and Bill Nighy as well as tidy, unfussy direction by first-timer Patrick Tatopoulos, the creature designer who is taking the reins from originator Len Wiseman, the third installment in the successful franchise should be to the fan base's lycan.

A schmaltzy, mildly satisfying Anglo take on the BFFs-to-bedfellows subgenre that’s been seen recently in romantic comedies.

Pimp is an engrossing melodrama that could easily have played to enthusiastic grindhouse audiences in the 1970s.

The script by John Swetnam is rudimentary, with only the most minimal and pallid stabs at characterization... Nevertheless, once the funnel clouds begin swirling, Quale and his special effects team achieve some remarkably authentic and frightening moments.

Badly in need of more humor and humanity, like that found in his best Hong Kong features, Tsui Hark's long-awaited big-budget debut "Double Team" is doubly problematic. Beyond a few sequences with some of the Hark magic and the formidable presence of NBA superstar Dennis Rodman, the Columbia Pictures release is not exactly an airball, but it bounces around the rim and finally fails to go in. [2 Apr 1997]

What we are thus left with is a film that's made with an impressive level of craftsmanship but with exceptionally dubious politics, as if 21st-century moviemaking magic had been let loose on a terribly conservative and hopelessly blinkered 1980s relic of a script.

Although anchored by a number of strong performances, particularly those of Ben Foster and fresh-faced Toby Wallace as estranged half-brothers attempting to find common ground despite their different upbringings, Helgeland’s meandering film still feels stuck in another place in time.

An airy, prettily accoutered but essentially vapid feature debut for writer-director Stephanie De Giusto.

Director Rawson Marshall Thurber adequately manages the mechanics demanded here but adds no finesse or grace notes.

Manages to deliver more laughs than most of the competition.

Visually atmospheric but tonally all over the place, Hot Summer Nights, a first feature by Elijah Bynum, has much to appreciate but ultimately possesses the sampler-platter vibe of a director’s demo reel.

A throwback to the days when Disney would recruit second- and third-tier stars to stroll through indifferently written, modestly produced comic fluff that served as family entertainment.

Whatever its shortcomings, The Old Guard 2 is a better-than-average original streaming feature — well acted by a highly capable cast, peppered with enough action to satisfy most appetites, and underscored with a melancholy vein of introspection about the conflicted roles of superheroes.

Might be a lame, formulaic comedy, but it sets up entertaining sequences cleverly designed for the talents of three of its stars and has the good sense to get out of the way and let audiences enjoy their performances.

Unfortunately, the thin storyline isn't substantial enough to sustain the nearly two-hour running time.

There’s definitely some gas in its tank in the opening sections, which are somewhat promising, but then the story takes a predictable route that fails to deliver enough suspense or interest to go the full distance.

The film will attract the attention of a public that's increasingly educated about gourmet matters, but leave the most serious viewers unsatisfied. Fatally for a film of this sort, it doesn't leave the viewer wanting a drink.

Cantinflas hops from cliche to cliche with lazy thoughtlessness.

Though there’s clearly a compassionate impulse behind Leon F. Butler’s class-conscious screenplay, it rapidly devolves into implausible melodrama.

While nearly every shock comes at predictable moments, there is genuine ingenuity behind many, and the movie is surprisingly fresh for one made by a guy on his third go-round with the same material.

This film is straight out of the bottle with no metaphoric or psychological pretensions.

An airy, lazy, though rather likable overseas rom-com served with a dose of melancholia and several large portions of cinematic nostalgia.

Creepy enough to get the job done, but not sufficiently extreme to fulfill the initial setup.

The villain here, Jesse Eisenberg's Lex Luthor, is so intensely annoying that, very early on, you wish Batman and Superman would just patch up their differences and join forces to put the squirrely rascal out of his, and our, misery.

You laugh in spite of yourself in This Is Where I Leave You, a potty-mouthed comedy with enough exasperation, aggravations, long-standing grievances and get-me-outta-here moments of family stress to strike a chord with anyone who’s ever had to endure large clan gatherings that might have lasted a bit too long.

2 1/2 hours of shouting, gesticulating, pratfalls and groin kicks will leave viewers with an MSG headache.

Veteran TV director Michael Lembeck slides the movie into a sitcom mode that only further deadens the thin material. While Vardalos and Collette shine in the musical numbers, why didn't he bother to give the musical sequences a bit of pizzazz?

Unlike "The Sixth Sense," the film's key revelation might be too mild to jolt audiences. Some may even feel cheated.

Begins by repeating many gags from the previous film. Only now they feel lame and routine.

Its raw performances and dirty-realist immersion in a harsh environment keep Cook County engrossing.

Revenge of the Nerds is primarily the story of outcasts getting their just rewards, and that is always a satisfying movie ingredient. Nonetheless, this scattergun, often scatological film is filled with extensive racial stereotypes, which may offend some moviegoers.

Technological updating and a few clever narrative twists are the sole saving graces of the otherwise pedestrian Preservation.

Though Turturro turned this small part into a memorable character for the Coens, Quintana is not so reliably funny here, especially headlining a whole film of very intermittent charm.

The results aren't fully satisfying on any level, despite a terrific cast that includes rising star Ana de Armas (Knives Out), soon to be seen in the upcoming James Bond film "No Time to Die."

A B-movie that would benefit immensely from some wit in the script and charisma in the cast, it’s not as aggressively hacky as P.W.S.A.’s oeuvre, but it runs into problems he didn’t face in 1995: Namely, the bar has been raised quite a bit for movies in which teams of superpowered young people have fights to save the universe.

The Bronze is a strident comedy made in accordance with the sole guiding principle of, when in doubt, go even more vulgar.

Neither as breezy nor as edgy as it pretends to be.

Wilson acquits himself adequately enough, emphasizing pacing over character development, but delivering a series of kinetically propelled scenes that clearly benefit from his extensive visual effects experience.

The filmmakers do fall into the trap of overly sentimentalizing a widely beloved public figure who represents an enormous cultural significance. At the same time, however, they keep the movie frequently engaging.

Johnny Depp makes a riveting antihero in a dark and bawdy period drama.

The film never is boring, but it's never engaging, either, because its heroes hit every target in sight, while the villains, despite holstering much greater weaponry, never hit anybody. So forget about suspense.

The English term "shambolic" best describes a slow-paced, bloated and self-indulgent picture that combines science fiction, sophomoric humor and grisly violence soaked in a music-video sensibility.

There's certainly an audience for this sort of slick, self-absorbed comedy and the appealing casting augurs well for a brief theatrical run. But the film will most likely find its real home on the small screen, with attentive viewers curled up on the couch with a dish of ice cream.

Unfortunately, he (Schwarzenegger)doesn’t quite have the chops to do full justice to the material, and his decades-long, popcorn movie image proves a further impediment. Despite the seriousness of his intentions, Aftermath doesn’t pack sufficient emotional punch.

It’s a sweet but oddly circumspect film, ruled by a friction between warring demands: the allure of wistful memories and the rigor of complex appraisal.

Although its formulaic storyline...holds no surprises, the film nonetheless exerts a certain charm.

The old debate over nature versus nurture is played for (sporadic) laughs in Birthmarked, a satire that's unable to deliver on a promising hypothesis.

This muscular thriller--led by Jason Statham, Clive Owen and Robert De Niro--strives to be a genuinely good film, but unwilling to let go of proven formulas, it falls short.

Ripples with the emotions and the saddened circumstances of those gallant and talented folks who sing the blues.

In large part the film succeeds, feeling like a good-natured throwback.

The film, which thankfully doesn't wear out its welcome with a scant running time of 64 minutes, is fairly prosaic stylistically. But the admittedly rough-hewn footage of the games is thrilling, and the pride and self-respect instilled in the players by their success is still evident today.

A gay auto mechanic comes out to his straight buddies in Fourth Man Out, but the shortage of dramatic texture, psychological insight or credible sexual tension in this toothless brom-com means he might as well be telling them he has a cold.

Despite the filmmaker’s best efforts to drum up suspense via the usual jump scares, Night Swim turns out to be just as silly as it sounds.

No best in show but a decent family comedy.

The first rule of a good werewolf flick, or any horror flick for that matter, is to keep the audience on the edge of their seats, whereas Farrell mostly keeps us guessing.

At best, Racing Stripes should play nicely to youngsters with the cutoff for enjoyment extending no further than midteens.

A shrill, far-fetched thriller.

The results might make for some swell production stills, but as a motion picture, Teknolust never really makes it alive out of Hershman's head.

It provides only scant background information and no deep insights about the musicians, other than that they seem like very nice people who apparently perform more for the love of church than money.

Despite the wildly uneven plotting, Gordon’s atmospheric direction in coastal New London propels the drama, as does her sensitivity to what remains unspoken between people. That everyone in the film is drastically off-balance may just be the point.

The second installment, which reveals some of the reasons behind their imprisonment, lacks a similar sense of originality and urgency, undercut by overly familiar characterizations and dilatory pacing.

Throwing a woman in front of the camera and a few feminist quips into the script does not make these films any less conventional, or necessarily any more empowering.

A polished, fast-moving, entertaining picture whose mainstream success will depend on audiences' tolerance of its tendency to become an abattoir of extreme carnage.

Abercrombie & Fitch model Guzman looks every bit the metrosexual romantic lead, but also makes a credible partner for So You Think You Can Dance star McCormick. Fortunately, neither is called upon to stretch too far in the acting department and both are able to get by with good looks and flashy moves.

It's one of the worst performances Cage has given — and perversely, since he's playing a madman, it contains none of the unabashed weirdness that has made some bad Cage performances guilty pleasures.

Collisions all but screams "Issue Movie," and is extremely unlikely to reach anyone but the already convinced.

While De Angelis knows how to create visceral action and moments of intensity, he’s incapable of the slightest hint of subtlety.

It runs a little longer than two hours, but feels more like two tours of duty. And it has enough plot elements to fuel an armful of Tom Clancy novels but somehow manages to make none of them interesting.

Blood-spattered crime comedy benefits from whip-smart pacing and quirky Scandinavian attitude.

There are undeniably arresting moments along the way, thanks to Dafoe's subtly intense performance and the well-crafted visuals.

The movie is at its strongest when it integrates family dynamics into the plot rather than indulging in extreme couples therapy.

Ewan McGregor’s directorial debut, in which he also stars, is decently performed and delivers some potent scenes of inter-generational discord between a concerned father and a radicalized daughter who becomes a murderous terrorist. But the filmmaking is prosaic when it should crackle with tension and disruptive undercurrents,

The drama gets stuck in a dispiritingly dull rut and fails to build toward what is supposed to be a something of a crowd-rousing triumph over adversity.