Patchy as often as its outright hilarious, fantastically outrageous just as frequently as its forgettable and flatlining, the sequel winds up a bit better than a second tier Ferrell outing.

As an sensory experience, 'WOWS' is mostly a terrifically visceral one, a full throttle fast and furious bacchanalia of drug-fueled madness. But as a scathing indictment of American rapacity, it isn't particularly deep or resonant beyond the exterior.

It's all very cheap, wholly unconvincing, and loaded with dull narration.

Heisserer is able to keep the thrills coming while maintaining an emotional tether to the character and the situation. While occasionally the movie veers into the realm of implausible melodrama, it's a well-modulated affair and knows exactly when to pull itself back from the brink.

The Crash Reel can never be accused of being dry or boring, but Walker brings an energetic style that also complements its subject.

It’s bold, beautifully told, and surprisingly funny.

The tension really is beautifully ramped up in these early scenes and gets an audience well prepped to watch carnage unfold around people you've truly come to care about. Then, when the thing goes off, it's not with a bang but with something more like a a whimper.

The Punk Singer brings dimension and real shape to a band, era and scene that is often compartmentalized into one or two categories. That it'll get you wanting to start your own musical rebellion is a bonus.

After years of being a long-lost gem, Cousin Jules has finally been found and is receiving its due as an innovative, meditative case study of rural life.

Caught In The Web grows slack as its premise evolves.

Bloodless, far too genteel, and perfectly content to continually tell where a little showing would be nice; Night Train to Lisbon ends up a deeply unadventurous adventure story.

The Peter Jackson-directed Hobbit sequel might be the more vigorous, action-packed, darker and more (superficially) engaging version of the series thus far, but that doesn’t actually mean it’s a keeper of any sort.

For the most part, the most shocking thing about Swerve is how utterly straightforward it is.

All around, the performances are fine, but they can’t move past the script from first-time director Jessie McCormack. She’s created a group of people that you’d avoid at a party, and being stuck with them for an hour and a half makes you feel like you’re being punished for doing something really awful.

With its broad, ambiguous title, S#x Acts reminds us, with heartbreaking power, that sometimes vigilance just isn't enough, and all it takes is an "act" or two to change a life forever.

An unprecedented take on the holiday film, but not an entirely successful one.

The film’s undoubtedly a gorgeous look at the Australian outback, but those looking for deeper nourishment will be left a touch disappointed.

A film that, while often beautiful to look at, feels oddly bloodless in execution.

Although movies like “Goodfellas” are indisputable forebears for Russell’s decadent tale of crime and punishment, the filmmaker distinguishes himself by creating a complex and compelling web of manipulation between the characters that eventually supersedes any of their scheming or con artistry.

We can't help but feel that by comparison with the meaty and compelling issues he takes on so fearlessly, so scabrously in the other entries, Paradise: Hope ends up somewhat toothless.

As with real life, there aren't any stock characters, clear morals, or easy solutions in These Birds Walk.

While Lee edges in enough unique elements to argue a second look at the brutal revenge tale, his lean, blackly comic result is transcendent only in fits and starts, stripping away much of its thematic and emotional heft into one of the most frustratingly accomplished disappointments this year.

The proximity, orientation, and monumental nature is what makes Levitated Mass the piece so powerful, and Levitated Mass the film not only captures that but puts those ideals forth as something culturally and socially important, something that happened when the mass met the masses.

Ultimately of course, this is Statham’s show, and as always he doesn’t disappoint.

This film has all of the pieces to be a great and thorough documentary (a cult turned popular subject, new and old footage, interviews with admirers, friends and colleagues, authorization by the lady herself), but misses the mark.

Narco Cultura is gripping, gruesome and arresting; a disquieting look a pop (sub)-culture phenomenon that is mushrooming all over the United States and Latin America.

To his credit (and without affectation), Gondry doesn’t cloak the fact that he is often perplexed by his subject. Because of his confusion though, we are able to learn quite a lot.

There are themes of familial connection and responsibility drenched across every frame of it, but aside from a few performances and amusing asides, “Delivery Man” is a bland translation of a sweet, but already flawed original.