It's understandable that larger scale movies will want to spawn sequels, but this is about two degrees away from being a movie that premieres on Cinemax on a Friday night, sandwiched between two soft core porn movies with funny titles. Getaway is stuck in neutral. And that's where it'll stay.

Eventually settles into a dull routine much like the dissatisfied characters of the film, which will make for an easily dissatisfied audience.

All this movie has to say is that David Ayer enjoys creating misery, and sharing it. What a repugnant, hateful piece of work this is.

The now pat, unimaginative knock on McG was that he was the Guy Fieri of filmmakers, — loud, crass, garish, tacky, hacky, double fisted with Monster Energy drinks and reeking of Ax Body Spray. But you know what? Sadly, that shoe seems to snuggly fit and he seems more than willing to wear it.

Fantasy Island is even worse than you’d guess. Both artistically and intellectually, it’s an absolutely bankrupt enterprise.

At its worst, the film is a panoply of ersatz camera placement and terrible scene blocking, actors having no clue how to interact with their surroundings as they rifle through dialogue that stands as a series of historical checkpoints rather than a cohesive story.

Rarely competent, unintentionally hilarious and borderline reprehensible in both its politics and its take on gender roles.

Tedious and painfully miscalculated, Dirty Grandpa is never as filthy or funny as it thinks it is.

Bafflingly witless, The Clapper is an oblivious non-starter with myriad deficiencies. Artless and clueless at every turn, writer/director Dito Montiel’s inane movie is a one-note half-gag somehow stretched into a painful 90-minute movie.

Fogelman clearly gets a thrill in constructing a tapestry full of one random tragedy after another (seriously, almost nothing good seems to happen to these people long term). And he also appears to love manipulating the audience’s emotions with these subsequent tragedies.

Accidental Love is mostly a mess, a curiosity for fans, and a mangled misfire you'd understand anyone hoping to omit from their CV.

We strongly insist that any pain you experience while watching this movie will never be useful, anytime or anyplace.

Whatever Branded is selling, we aren't buying.

The film similarly boxes itself in when it feels the need to mimic the third-act occurrences of "Paranormal Activity" when it's obvious that improv had the film going in an entirely less predictable direction, clearly pointing out the fallacy of A Haunted House: you can't parody something and also try to emulate it as well.

Unfortunately, Would You Rather is content with being a risible borderline torture porn horror film.

Anyone watching Assassin's Bullet will be gripped with a similar sensation -- to be anywhere but watching this movie.

Most of Tomorrow You’re Gone moves incredibly slow for a ninety minute movie.

Basically, it’s a film made for brainless grunts who like to hang out all day making sub-literate jokes about boobs and gays while watching the game. No wonder the first movie was such a success.

It’s not tolerable as even basic movie sustenance, or adventurous cuisine, and it’s a f*cking revolting mess.

While there are a few intriguing themes and ideas at play in The Vanishing of Sidney Hall, once the viewer perseveres through the over-editing the final product is disappointing.

An oddity recommended for only the most fervent, undemanding comedy junkies.

Momentum is a confused, bland, and wholly unoriginal action/thriller that tries its best to ripoff the mid-budget international action formula of Luc Besson’s Europacorp productions.

Without an amusing instinct in its cowboy-hatted head, this painfully protracted, puerile effort meanders about the Old West as if it were making up its nonsense on the fly. The result is a torturous genre joke that marks a new low not only for the star, but for the art of cinematic comedy.

A plodding, undercooked, and old-fashioned (not in a good way, either) chiller that will bore you to tears instead of scare you to death.

Mother’s Day is the cinematic equivalent of spilling boiling hot coffee on your mother when you bring her burnt toast for breakfast in bed.

Dull and lifeless, Vice fails on the promise of even its lowest ambitions.

What is perhaps most surprising is that the film’s first hour, the non-horror section, is far more compelling than the second, an extended, nonsensical haunted hotel sequence that never scares, intrigues, or surprises.

It’s, all told, a preposterous and pretentious mess of a film, and all the good intentions in the world don’t mean anything when the execution is as ham-fisted as it is here.

One step worse than most of these video game movies. It feels less like a game and more like what happens when you leave your PlayStation on and it becomes a kind of dim screensaver. If we had a controller in our hand, we would probably throw it at the screen.

Buried underneath the glop are interesting notions on reality, creation, and the nature of death. And thanks to its aesthetic, it's at least a very beautiful catastrophe.

From top to bottom, The Last Days of American Crime is a lumbering referential malfunction. Nothing about it works; everything about it is offensive.

It's all fist-pumping anti-thought, consisting of baseless revisionist history and idle contrarianism.

To say Any Day is a bad movie doesn’t go far enough, because it’s not just bad. It’s frustrating, it’s a slap in the face of filmmakers still struggling to get a project greenlit, and it makes me wonder how so many recognizable actors came to be involved in such drivel.

Taking on such a wacky project for his directorial debut shows evidence of real ambition, yet Don Peyote must be considered a complete miss. Still, Fogler is certainly not without charm and comedic ability.

At literally no point in this weirdly lumbering, sluggish movie’s narrative does its grotesque tastelessness ever appear to have occurred to anyone involved.

Oconomowoc seems like a cartoon pilot that IFC doesn’t pick up, only to be turned into a film.

Mektoub, My Love: Intermezzo begins to feel like a human rights violation ... It’s almost impossible to stress how unpleasant this moviegoing experience was, to the point where it’s difficult to imagine a human being making this movie and considering it art.

About an hour in, if you haven’t walked over to the nearest stove and shoved your head inside, the sinking feeling sets in that you’re stuck with this unpleasant asshole.

Farrands proves he’s no Tobe Hooper, but he might not even be Tom Six. What he ultimately crafts is a terribly foolish movie featuring wooden acting, a disgusting premise, and none of the redeeming qualities that even the most repellant exploitation schlock film might offer. Stay away at all costs.

Earning the opposite of its intended effect, United Passions makes you believe we have yet to witness the true depths of FIFA's ego and arrogance.

Regardless of whether this is a film you can handle, it’s a perfect example of the kind of bold new vision that cinephiles should be championing.

The movie is sexy, in a very real, occasionally shocking way, and it's interesting to see this kind of frankness in a movie where the characters are all so young.

It is beautifully shot, well-acted by all (especially by Waldstätten, Strauss, and Simonischek), and filled with strong dialogue and a real sense of place. But despite the cast’s best efforts, it is never moving, and rarely surprising.

Had the filmmakers shaved away some of the embellished excess, they might have had a minor classic on their hands, worthy of the Anderson and Hughes canon. Instead, they have a very good movie whose reverence ends up bringing it down.

The Starving Games is the sixth directorial effort from Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer, and they are nothing if not consistent.

What makes “Misfire” so powerful is that it isn’t just the story of the Shooting Gallery — which is tragic but one that doesn’t resonate all that well today because their output was often iffy and unmemorable — but the story of independent cinema of that period.

Karr came up through documentary filmmaking, and he knows how to turn the switch on an event to make it feel immediate and dangerous. Unfortunately, the picture strands its characters in the middle of this event, building to a climax that seems open-ended if only because the story, and its skimpy characters, has nowhere to explore.

Ultimately, the picture becomes an old-fashioned Bible Belt actioner, a shift towards genre that works on its own, but is tonally a peculiar place to take the events of the film following a string of several shocking and not-so-shocking revelations.

You wish Evelyn Purcell's action thriller just had a bit more character, and not a budget-cutting location that looked great in front of a camera.

Stretch is a truly enjoyable oddity, a movie that was too brash, too weird, too idiosyncratic for a major release, but one that should settle into a nice, long shelf life. Stretch is a wild ride, and one very much worth going on.

The entire movie is a whirlwind of personality, a gate into a world you only get a whiff of as a customer.

Relentlessly paced, with the volatile ferocity of a rabid pitbull, Schneider vs. Bax is, above all else, pretty damn funny. That's if you're into Alex van Warmerdam's distinctive brand of humor.

Unexpected and charming, “Manson Family Vacation” is one ride you’ll want to catch.

While the material might be the substance of a handful of reality shows you could easily watch on television, there is only one Jake "The Snake" Roberts, and his story matches the epic highs and lows of his life.

For some audiences, Bleeding Heart may deliver some much needed catharsis, but it’s ultimately a hollow film that isn’t concerned with consequences or the echoing cycle of violence, just vanquishing the bad guy, reclaiming a dime store sense of “freedom,” and not much more.

This soulful and serio-comedic drama is far less interested in race and much more concerned with examining the state of contemporary male friendship.

For all the elements that don’t mesh naturally, Admiral still manages to be intermittently engaging and fitfully exciting.

Extremely entertaining and well-crafted, Crush The Skull promises a bright future in genre films for Nguyen.

A thriller so turgid that its setting in logging country starts to feel like heavy irony: Lord, does it lumber.

Regardless of how you define your diet, At The Fork is effective and affecting in its offering of a variety of viewpoints.

As The Gods Will is a minor film from a major talent, but few middle of the road efforts from directors manage to retain the kind of wholly original sensibility seen here, and have as much fun as Miike is while doing it.

It’s thematically rich, and confidently directed with a clear point of view, set against a backdrop of relevant socioeconomic and cultural issues. But it’s also a deeply relatable and affecting depiction of the heedless beauty of a first love.

As a whole, the film is enchanting even if certain aspects of it are not.

Poorly written and haphazardly shot, not even Sarandon is enough to convince that Ace the Case was a mystery ever worth writing, much less solving.

While the documentary The Dwarvenaut won’t break any new ground in terms of nonfiction narrative, it will ideally open up viewers eyes to the fact that art goes far beyond what’s painted or drawn and can be seen in the figurines of a live action role playing game.

Overall, Good Kids is an average, uneven, coming-of-age flick with decent performances, serving as a harmless example of the joy of having one last (or rather first) hurrah before entering the next phase of life.

It is a hard film to recommend, and only more dedicated and patient audiences may find themselves satisfied overall.

This is, ultimately, a slow-burning story that requires commitment and focus from the viewers, but rewards them with characters that are properly constructed and reactions that are comprehensible once we learn more about each person, their relationships to one another and to the community.

Far from being a perfect film and wearing its shortcomings with confidence, Flames is a film very worthy of curiosity.

Handsome is modest and mild-mannered, the type of comedy that likes to keep things content and mostly carefree.

May It Last plays more like a puff piece than a concert doc, never digging to discover the hard sacrifice to this hectic touring schedule, the dirt beneath the fingernails of such work.

The most impressive accomplishment of In The Radiant City is that it’s unafraid to deal in hard truths about redemption, forgiveness, and shame.

Arthur Miller: Writer does not radically reappraise Miller’s life or work, but the personal details will make it intriguing for long time fans and it can serve as an excellent introduction for a younger generation.

For a production founded on a tried and true indie formula – start with your characters, add in existential malaise, substitute plot with antics and awkward conversation – Pet Names is made with remarkable urgency

Yeksan’s portrait of generational malaise and middle-class dissociation is deceptively loose in execution for a film so dense with allegorical potential. Yet, like the occasional sparkle of amusement in Selim’s eye, it is enlivened by a finely tuned sense of the ridiculous, and an ending that improbably offers up the oddest cocktail of optimism with which to toast the oncoming End Times.

Modest though her debut is, Metelius has achieved a fine, beguiling balance. The tone is kept light and bittersweet, so she’s hardly making any claim to great importance or originality in her narrative. But nor does she apologize for the story’s slightness, displaying a sincere and persuasive confidence that makes it worth telling nonetheless.

Reis and Guerra bring to life the beauty, people, textures, and (stunningly shot) landscapes of Cape Verde as well as the difficulty of finding home.

While Our House occasionally loses sight of itself and could stand to take more risks, it offers a wholly original perspective on female friendship bolstered by precocious directorial acumen and a self-assured visuals.

With a far more complex exploration of the internal world of a child, Seno validates her standing as a unique and rising voice within the film industry, as Nervous Translation galvanizes her ability to devise an innocent scope of complete awe in an attempt to come to terms with the crumbling yet beautiful world around us.

There are wit and wisdom and a kind of “Before Sunrise” wistfulness in this slight little film, and it’s shot through with an unobtrusively lyrical affection for being young and aimless in even the less obviously lovely quarters of lovely Lisbon.

May the Devil Take You is less funny and a bit less playful than its inspiration in Raimi’s work, but there’s still a sense of fun here. That is, if you find shrieking and laughing in terror fun.

Phantom Cowboys is a stylish treat for viewers who enjoy meditative cinema. As an enrapturing stroll down the dusty backroad pathways and flame-covered grassland that comprise a country, the documentary manages to offer an invigorating perspective on the United States by exploring the day-to-day lives of the unseen.

A magnificent, tight exploration of romance and what it means to walk that path wearing blinders. Most people have done this at one point or another, and Silver’s triumph is that he’s crafted a film that puts his audience both inside of this, but also at a distance where it can be appreciated.

Beyond the strength of the visuals, there’s promise in the young cast that you see glimpses of here. ... However, it’s never enough to make “Gully” worth watching. Its raw, gritty approach feels like an effort from the filmmakers, but it’s mostly work for the audience to endure.

Some movies aim for lofty vulgarities; this one aims low and hits all the marks. ... The result is tone deaf, dated, never sexy nor funny enough to grab our interest. What could have been good fun becomes a perpetual drag of jaw-dropping crudities and cringe-inducing antics that were seemingly written and directed by a horny teenage boy with no sense of taste.

The Battle of Long Tan is fascinating, not only for its tactical outcome but for the historical blindspot, which has effectively marginalized contributions to the war made by Australia and New Zealand. After the film ends, what lingers is the photography and archival footage that accompanies the end credits; with a little bit of context, that’s a film that needs to be told.

Ultimately, Autonomy doesn’t have the sort of attention-grabbing hook that can really elevate a doc – there’s no stunning footage or unique personal connection to the material. That overarching lack keeps Horwitz’s doc from being more than something to watch on your couch on a lazy afternoon.

Bolstered by revelatory performances from its leads, and a timely thematic foundation appropriate to its place and moment, Twin Flower (Italian: “Fiore Gemello”) tells a story that’s as nuanced as it is profound.

Featuring a breakout performance from an enrapturing Wong-Loi-Sing, and a beguiling turn from Siriboe, Really Love is a timeless black romance. Kristi Williams is an assured new voice already nestling herself inside audiences’ hearts.

No one wants to be the sober person at a party where everybody is high, but that’s often what “The Marijuana Conspiracy” feels like.

If most Hollywood stories are about finding yourself, Aleph would rather you lose yourself, letting go of the ego and looking on humanity from a cosmic remove.

Anchored by a strong lead presence in Dou and an endless variety of new encounters, “Bipolar” is a chaotic but rewarding journey of healing and discovery.

Liborio is a beguiling film for the spiritually minded, with fascinating parallels to early Christianity, allowing the audience to question what they might do confronted with a messiah and also how that story might be shaped afterward.

Disappointingly, despite the rich subject matter, Le Guillou lets “An Unknown Compelling Force” become more his story than that of the dead.

This is a uniquely Chinese-American documentary. And an immersive film concerning the immigrant experience. It’s also a work that shows the humanism needed for great journalism to happen.

The drama rests on their efforts to claim self-agency that the circumstances of their success have accidentally denied them. The effect of the message and the medium is trim and unsparing; the sendoff is surprisingly uplifting. Altogether, the package is remarkable.