While the structure occasionally feels a bit awkward, On the Basis of Sex has the kind of crowd-pleasing story that skims over any minor shortcomings; by its end, you’re ready to cheer.

Directed by Carlos Saldanha, who co-directed "Ice Age," the film feels visually richer than its predecessor (thanks to all that plain white ice melting) but has the same brand of uncomplicated all-ages charm.

The whole endeavor is so relentlessly lovable, like Bridget herself, that I defy anyone to not enjoy themselves.

There’s much pleasure to be had in Elvis & Nixon from its two lead performances.

Solid storytelling, a longtime strength of the best Pixar pictures, elevates Cars 3 into the pantheon with the studio’s finest.

Like so many small-screen-to-big-screen efforts, Absolutely Fabulous: The Movie isn’t really a movie, just a stretched-out TV episode with a parade of cameos and boatloads of Champagne.

The film doesn’t have much to say about its central questions, and its ending feels inevitable but also unearned.

By the time he's hiding at a pregnancy retreat disguised as a former female Olympic athlete, Junior has pretty much hit the bullseye. [23 Nov 1994, p.D3]

Lithgow's opening narration tries to throw you off the scent of the cliches, and director Michael Caton-Jones (Scandal) does his best to avoid them or make them seem charmingly dated. But they're still there. [12 Oct 1990, p.22]

It's interesting to note that one of the most sensuous scenes in "The Lover" - which nearly received an NC-17 rating for its abundance of explicit lovemaking - takes place between two fully clothed people who very cautiously hold hands while riding in the back of a luxurious limousine. There is an electricity to that moment that is almost completely missing from the actual love scenes, which, like the entire film, are artfully photographed and subtly erotic, but which ultimately add little to a character study that could have used a little more (pardon the pun) fleshing out. [13 Nov 1992, p.3]

You expect lots of fight scenes in a Wick movie, and Ballerina certainly delivers on that score. Overdelivers, in fact. It’s one damn dust-up after another.

While Phoenix is always more than watchable (his scary-Fred-Astaire dance moves, born from Arthur’s habit of watching old movies with his mother, are both mesmerizing and disturbing), “Joker” really has nowhere to go. Its characters are one-note cartoony, but fun is the last thing on this movie’s mind; it’s all despair, from its opening scenes on downward.

Bailey gives a glowing performance of effortless starshine; her singing voice has both sweetness and power, and her smile is the sort on which dreams dance.

Between Leary, Davis, Spacey and Johns, director Ted Demme (nephew of Jonathan, and director of Leary's MTV spots) has captured lightning in a bottle, and The Ref has enough subtle and not-so-subtle interplay to make a repeat viewing worthwhile.

The fashion alone, designed by the great Jenny Beavan (an Oscar winner for “A Room with a View” and “Mad Max: Fury Road”), is worth the ticket price; if that doesn’t do it for you, there’s also slyly brilliant work from the two Emmas — Stone and Thompson — working hard to upstage the gorgeous outfits in which they’re swathed.

If you go expecting a slightly quirky romantic drama with touches of magic realism, not to mention the pleasure of seeing Ryan in one of her rare screen appearances these days, I think you might leave happy.

For those who like their comedy so dark that it’s practically blackened, may I present The Roses.

Both Weaving and Newton do great horror-comedy work, by turns beleaguered and enraged, and share some genuinely sweet, funny moments as they repair their relationship.

Novocaine wins with violence and personality. It’s simply fun to hang out with Nate.

Because these actors are Weisz, on whose beautiful face emotions flicker like fireflies, and Shannon, whose faintly mournful expressions imply a profound story not yet told, the film is never less than interesting.

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is reasonably clever and reasonably diverting.

As feverish and dark as this first feature by filmmaker Can Evrenol gets, there is a sense that something larger is at stake — an elusive explanation having to do with a recurring dream, twisted destiny and the bond of a promise.

It’s a daring premise, which makes Howard’s fluffy approach to the material all the more frustrating.

The Accountant delivered a dependable ‘90s-style throwback action thriller and “The Accountant 2” is much the same, though it embraces a looser, more amusing tone, while playing in a story sandbox that looks like our world, with our issues: immigration, human trafficking, organized crime.

It is the scenes in a Buenos Aires safe house between Eichmann (Ben Kingsley) and Mossad agent Peter Malkin (Oscar Isaac), the leader of the abduction team, where “Operation Finale” departs from usual espionage-movie scenarios.

Even Deutch’s charming radiance (she never entirely sells Sam’s nasty side) can’t quite get us through the slog of this plot.

Rather than using the extended running time to dig deep into these characters, director Andy Muschietti, who also directed the original, piles on the frights in a manner that builds to an ending drenched in hysteria.

The entire film feels like an exercise in dashing expectations, for both our heroine and the audience.

In F9, bonkers on top of bonkers results in a truly delightful and vividly sensorial time at the movies.

The movie gets lost in its focus on flash and speed, and forgets about the man — and the fine, quiet actor — at its center.

There's too much feedback and some of the numbers are allowed to go on, Grateful Dead style, but the movie means to invoke a trance, and often it succeeds. [29 Oct 1997, p.C1]

Thanks to Dench, Victoria & Abdul is constantly engaging and at times moving.

It’s infectious, the love Freaky Tales has for the Oakland, Calif., of the mid-1980s.

It's a spirited, sumptuously crafted tale about two spoiled Americans, Jake (John Malkovich) and Tina (Andie MacDowell), who have pushed their credit cards to the limit and now are going bankrupt in a London luxury hotel. Andie MacDowell almost equals her performance in sex, lies, and videotape. Funnier and looser than she was in Green Card, she's on her way to becoming our subtlest screen comedienne. [26 Apr 1991, p.3]

Seagal's "best" movie to date, handled with slick blandness by director Andrew Davis (reteaming with Seagal after the star's 1988 debut in "Above the Law). It's depraved and bloodthirsty stuff, which of course means that audiences will flock to this junk (to borrow a line from bone-snappin' Steve) like puppets in some sick play. [09 Oct 1992, p.22]

Unfortunately, the filmmakers — busily splashing the film in crayon-colored light, vaguely sinister pop music and jittery camerawork — forgot to give Vee and Handsome Stranger (his name’s Ian) much personality.

Mark this one down as a sequel that should never have been made.

Eastwood is known for his ruthless efficiency as a filmmaker, but The Mule feels dashed off at best, barely even a movie. It’s a strange rough draft, poorly executed and disastrously performed, despite the starry cast.

Political satire is one of the trickiest of genres; this one, running out of steam and nerve, ultimately becomes a too-familiar example of another genre: the 93-minute movie that feels way, way too long.

Roman J. Israel, Esq., isn’t as good as the performance at its center, but perhaps that’s inevitable.

Mostly, we watch Binoche’s face, in eloquent, mesmerizing close-up; pain and grief engulf her expression like water flooding into a still pool. She has few words. She doesn’t need them.

The humor is broad and obvious (yes, Ferdinand winds up in a china shop, with predictable results), but there are a number of scenes that hit the mark.

Freidel illuminates the inner struggle Elser goes through as, buttressed by his conscience and his Catholic faith, he finds within himself a strength of character and brave defiance that defines him as a hero in the truest sense of the word.

Creative Control is a hypnotic voyage into a society where technology addiction comes to rule and ruin those who fall under its seductive spell.

There's a certain amount of cognitive dissonance when it comes to the material and the approach that the filmmakers take, and much that doesn't get covered in this short, 80-minute primer.

Lights Out is an effective, tidy little chiller; basically the same sneak-up-in-the-dark scare over and over. But hey, as we’ve learned through decades of horror movies, that stuff works.

The pace is swift, archival clips are well-chosen and conspiracy theories pile up in a way that seems intentionally funny.

Gordon-Levitt carries the movie, and without flash or overt dramatics, overshadows everyone else in it.

The format couldn't be slighter or more familiar, yet this Australian film-festival favorite is one of the freshest romantic comedies of the season. [11 Apr 1997, p.F5]

This stranger-in-a-strange-land mood piece has an appealingly serene pace.

Hilarious, raucous and smarter than it’s likely to get credit for, Happy Death Day is an absolute blast for both horror junkies and those just looking for a fun jolt on Friday the 13th.

There's an anger and rawness here that fit hand-in-glove with Bruce Springsteen's "Badlands," which serves as the opening song. [3 Apr 1992, p.28]

Patric gives the character dignity and righteousness, but he and the narrator end up drowning the finale in noble speeches. [10 Dec 1993, p.G30]

Cage proves his versatility as the reluctant hero (designed by way of Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan character), bringing his comic timing and droll face into perfect pitch. His first scene with Connery is giddy fun. He steals the entire picture.

It’s all undeniably silly, but satisfying in an overstuffed blockbuster sort of way.

Part 2 is undeniably lively and very obviously pitched to young kids. It’s colorful but not especially distinctive.

Hope Gap is a deeply sad film, and maybe not what a lot of us are in the mood for these days, but it’s ultimately uplifting, in its quiet way.

The segments, though short, are nastily effective.

The storm effects are first-rate, immersive all the way. The tale-telling ability of director Craig Gillespie is frustratingly inconsistent.

Along the way, Hummingbird offers cogent commentary on the way unbridled avarice drives the search for even the smallest advantage in the cutthroat world of high finance.

There are a lot of moving parts here, and Pearce fits them together with admirable skill. Originality isn’t his strong suit, but “Artemis” has enough snaky twists and turns and moody energy to make it a fun ride.

As Chon calibrates a wide variety of emotions, allowing space for all the agonies, ecstasies, repressions and excesses, he crafts a tale of intergenerational traumas and personal redemptions that is an emotionally complicated yet ultimately cathartic viewing experience.

The best thing about The Greasy Strangler: that title. The worst thing about The Greasy Strangler: everything that follows that title.

Oz creates a highly positive urban family unit - not the slightly dysfunctional one we usually see in movies these days. [14 July 1995, p.D25]

Holding it all together is Ford, his hair steel-gray, his face craggy, playing the part with authority. And this time he invests Indy with an inner depth not previously seen.

Wicked: For Good could have been better, but it’s still a glorious journey to Oz.

So why does Elemental feel so flat for much of its running time? Here’s why: It just isn’t very funny. The best Pixar movies blend humor with pathos; having just half of the formula leaves us with just half of the impact.

Although it too often succumbs to the kind of whimsical sentimentality about the mentally ill that has afflicted movies from King of Hearts to The Fisher King, this filmed-in-Spokane comedy-drama is almost salvaged by its excellent cast. [16 Apr 1993, p.3]

Thanks to Walken’s superlative, multileveled performance and Edwards’ trenchant writing, this complicated guy...is a weirdly beguiling figure.

The picture’s real weakness is that the reanimated dead display a great deal more vitality than the characters in their pre-killed state.

The biggest problem with "Going All the Way" is that, despite the genuine eccentricity of Davies' performance and the charismatic smoothness of Affleck's work, the material lacks the freshness it must have had when the book was first published. [10 Oct 1997]

It’s a remarkable story, told in a movie that doesn’t always quite live up to it; except for a few crucial scenes, The Zookeeper’s Wife feels a bit too soft-focus for the devastating story it tells.

It doesn’t have the same wild unfamiliar sparkle as the original, but that’s the point. The joys of this film are similar to the joys of a beloved (real) band’s reunion concert: watching decades of personal and musical history play out onstage, cheering for the revolutionaries of their day and, in the case of the actor-creators of Spinal Tap, seeing what more than 40 years of commitment to a bit — and to each other — really looks like.

[Ip Man] is the calm at the center of a storm of kung-fu combat sequences, and Yen plays him with grace and serenity.

The footage captured is breathtaking for its access and intimacy to these incredible creatures.

A viewer might expect the film’s widescreen, busy images to fill with revenge-action sequences. But in its own way, Mr. Six is much more about a unique man adjusting an out-of-fashion personal code for a new type of crisis in the shadow of his mortality.

A more self-impressed movie than Dicks: The Musical would be hard to imagine.

The problem with most movies about junkies is that they're really not about anything but getting high, crashing and screwing up. The problem with most movies about writers is that they can't demonstrate a writer's talent. Put the two together and you've got Permanent Midnight. [18 Sep 1998, p.H6]

The Wedding Guest is a thriller without thrills.

Director Scott Cooper really lays it on thick. He brings no modulation to the horror elements in his frightfest. Everything is gloom, gloom, gloom. And doom.

With the kind of dignity rarely found in movies today, Bertolucci has tried - if only with mixed success - to address the things that really matter. [27 May 1994, p.D3]

Strange movie. And despite the presence of Tina Fey playing its lead character, a cable-TV reporter named Kim Baker, it’s not a funny one.

Maybe there's a serious movie to be made about professional soldiers who can't thaw out now that the Cold War is melting. But The Fourth War plays like Laurel and Hardy's Tit For Tat in slow motion. [23 Mar 1990, p.24]

Although his plot is subtly contrived, Kloves stays true to his characters by daring to evolve Flesh and Bone into a genuine tragedy (i.e. a downer) resembling the brooding early-1970s dramas that defied commercial convention. [05 Nov 1993, p.D3]

The pace of Instant Family can be relentless. But with the supporting cast and a whole lot of genuine authenticity, Anders hits that sweet spot of hilarious and heartwarming, where the sweetness and tears are well-deserved, and earned.

The time-travel element gets awfully twisty, perhaps a little too much so. But there’s great pleasure to be had in the performances, particularly Green’s deliciously avian Miss Peregrine.

Call me a sucker for white-trash humor, but it's mercilessly funny. [19 Sep 2003]

It’s a film that effectively combines two distinct — and very different — pleasures.

I wished I was actually watching “Batman and Robin” or “Superman IV,” because for all their camp, those movies felt less pointless and more human than “Thor 4,” a cheap corporate commercial for upcoming Marvel content.

The filmmakers have described Band of Robbers as fan fiction, and that feels about right: They don’t quite hit the mark, but it’s fun to watch them trying.

Making up in low-key charm for what it lacks in originality, Little Big League boosts its unlikely kids' fantasy with enough credibility to keep it involving and a positively infectious passion for the finer points of the national pastime. [29 Jun 1994, p.E5]

You get a sense [Eli Roth]'s struggling to rein in his penchant for gory frights, and for that reason “Clock” feels like a movie at war with itself.

Taylor-Johnson’s agonized performance holds the audience’s attention, but his portrayal doesn’t really take the character anywhere.

How do you turn a collection of New Yorker cartoons into a feature-length movie? And avoid the one-joke nature of the early-1960s television series that first tried to put it into dramatic form? The answer to both questions: you can't. [22 Nov 1991, p.3]

Compared with Weerasethakul’s acclaimed features, it feels cobbled together and improvised, which for the most part it was.

Maybe the Arthurian legend is unfilmable. There has never been a successful cinematic adaptation. There still isn't. Bad films are forgivable. First Knight is not. [07 Jul 1995, p.H3]

The most interesting revelations come early as Wyman, in voice-over, describes his upbringing in a rough section of London.

Unfortunately, Craven's constant emphasis on cannibalism, child abuse and incest adds up to more unpleasantness than thrills. [02 Nov 1991, p.C3]