Despite the filmmaker's obvious good intentions in trying to impart valuable life lessons to younger viewers, We the Party suffers from any number of problems, including uneven acting (talent isn't always hereditary); stereotypical characters and situations; and a manic visual style featuring the sort of split-screen obsession that felt outdated decades ago.

As with many films of its ilk, Surviving Progress takes on more than it can comfortably handle, veering haphazardly from subject to subject.

Intriguing but understated.

Following up "Humpday" with another low-rent charmer, Lynn Shelton moves from two- to three-character dynamics.

The wild card in all this remains Seann William Scott's Steve Stifler, the rampaging id whose indignation at his peers' maturity provides most of the film's real laughs.

Nanni Moretti's tender, funny and timely Vatican romp entertains, but lacks the director's customary bite.

An exercise in opaque supernatural storytelling that's as frustrating as it is beguiling.

You could point a camera just about anywhere at Comic-Con and record something weird, amazing, funny, stupid or all of the above.

Vuorensola's sci-fi comedy is uneven, its humor never quite matching the luster of its visuals.

Highbrow campus-comedy from long-lost Whit Stillman is a flawed but frequently hilarious comeback.

Amateurish vampire/musical mashup begs for a wooden stake.

Despite a talented cast lead by Halle Berry, director John Stockwell fails to take more than a bite out of this lackluster shark thriller.

Filmmaker Alan Govenar misses the mark in his attempt to document the historical French dwelling of once famous beatniks.

This is a movie drowning in flamboyant design elements and in need of a stiff shot of enchantment.

Benasra's documentary purports to be a sociological examination of the intimate relationship between women and their shoes. But God Save My Shoes also displays a creepily fetishistic feel.

A natural, light and convincing rom com very similar to the original Hong Kong hit.

An intimate reflection on the bullying epidemic that makes its points quietly and succinctly.

This is a relentlessly mechanical piece of work that will not or cannot take the imaginative leaps to yield even fleeting moments of awe, wonder or charm.

A delightful romp whose varied pleasures should please kids all along the age spectrum.

Where the film falls apart is in trying to steer this nightmare out of dark fantasy into the cold light of logic.

One of the things making Goon so enjoyable is its fairy-tale suggestion that all humanity's violent impulses can be exorcized in a Zamboni-groomed ice rink.

Lightweight but likeably uncynical.

The filmmakers, longtime music video veterans, have delivered a technically polished production that belies the film's low budget. They've also elicited mostly strong performances.

Filmmaker Julia Haslett lacks focus in her ode to the French philosopher.

The "Dexter" star gives it his all in this indie comedy about a 35-year-old unemployed man coping with various romantic and life crises, but by the end of this terminally cute effort you'll wish that he just stop moping and kill somebody already.

Informative and lively if low on cinematic value, the documentary will play well on the small screen.

As intensely personal and deeply felt as it is, however, Davies' attempt to breathe new life into Rattigan's 1952 play is a rather bloodless, suffocating thing, lent tragic passion more by its use of Samuel Barber's Violin Concerto than by anything achieved by his star Rachel Weisz and her leading man.

In his 4:44 Last Day on Earth, the auteur imagines the apocalypse from an aging NYC hipster's perspective, hitting melancholy notes that may ring true for a small segment of the art-house audience but, without the compelling presence of Willem Dafoe, would have little hope at the box office.