Moves us closer to an art-house/blockbuster hybrid paradigm that could be Hollywood’s salvation...a survivalist adventure that captures the primal terror of present death while exploring the will or won't to live.

The odds of hitting a 'runner runner' flush (in Texas Hold 'Em) are 'roughly four percent.' Coincidentally, those are the same odds you'll be satisfied with your purchase of a ticket to Runner Runner.

Typically slick, both overstated and undernourished when it comes to the drama. All the same, Rush makes for a pretty good fall night at the movies: fast and furious, but not too stupid.

A comedy of separation anxiety and conjoining anxiety...When Holofcener gets Dreyfus and Gandolfini alone, Enough Said is a beautiful thing.

Exquisitely captures the vulnerability not only of youth, but of the male identity.

In a film full of humane performances, Larson stands out, personifying the necessary vulnerability and strength Cretton captures of the workplace.

Feels rather 'been there, done that' for a movie that keeps (idly, as it turns out) threatening to turn transgressive. Still, by putting utility player Hahn front and center, Soloway earns instant good will.

As violent, macho fantasies go, this one is surprisingly engaging, a throwback to '80s sci-fi actioners like Predator in its striking visual approach...its juicy pulp dialogue...and its unabashed hard-'R' gusto.

More than anything, perhaps, The Grandmaster is a feminist tragedy that, at least in this cut, seems to lose interest in Ip Man and pass the torch to the considerably more fascinating Gong Er...

Getaway does inspire escapism, as its title implies, but not in the way the filmmakers had in mind: rather, you’ll be looking for the exits.

Despite breathless proclamations about 'the biggest, most high profile murder case in British history' and timely trappings of closely held government secrets threatening to come to light, it all turns out to be rather boilerplate.

You can go home again. But it's going to involve a lot of drinking.

As a tart analogy for our escapism into literature and romantic comedies, Austenland is, itself, enaging, if not particularly sharp.

A mature film about immature people, tenderly performed by its young leads and skillfully adapted, by (500) Days of Summer screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber, from Tim Tharp's YA novel.

Give this to Kick-Ass 2: it's never boring...Even so, Kick-Ass has lost most of its transgressive charge along with its element of surprise and its heroes' disturbingly unwavering conviction.

Faced with almost three decades of complicated history, Jobs does a fair job of telling the story of Apple and conveying something of what made its co-founder unique.

Despite admirable work from Whitaker and Winfrey, Lee Daniels' The Butler is nearly crushed by its own symbolic weight and its contrivance of a central character arc from keeping one's head down to learning to stand up.

There's a tough-mindedness there that's admirable, even if it's preaching to a mall-multiplex choir. But one wishes Blomkamp were less concerned with his Halo-style run-and-gunning and more interested in the subtler repercussions...

Mean-spirited to squishy does not a convincing trajectory make...That wouldn't be so much of an issue if We're the Millers weren't such a dismally unfunny endurance test, but there you are.

Yes, Percy faces his Charybdis, but...Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters not surprisingly feels more dutiful than creatively energized.

While we've seen plenty of R-rated action buddy comedies before, the stream of amusing banter here comes with plotting that has a few good tricks in reserve.

Blanchett's edgy comic brio, in Jasmine's blithely imperious manner, magically complements her tragic mental fragility and self-defeating desperation.

Handsome but flatfooted, The Wolverine comes tantalizingly close to working, which makes it all the more disappointing that Mangold comes up short.

Coogler isn't after much more than what naturally comes with his approach: a memorial in dramatic prose, an occasion for cathartic outrage and empathetic grief.

Handled with care and patience by McGowan, proves mightily compelling, and deftly sidesteps sentimentality and cliche.

The kind of movie you root for to get its act together..Take the great Kristen Wiig out...and it would be unbearable.

Kids...will probably ho-hum their way through Turbo happily enough and forget it moments later. But they deserve better, too, than this lackluster, generic kiddie flick.

Culminates in a double-music video finish designed to see audiences out in a pop-narcotic laughing-gas daze. As a tactic, it’s a poor substitute for a satisfying story.

A perverted comedy of manners, with the characters spilling drinks, secrets, and sperm...but coming more from a place of 'I'm going to make my dolls kiss. Won't that be naughty?' than one of productive social satire.

The meeting of McCarthy's stinging zingers and Bullock's practiced exasperation almost justifies The Heat, but it's more of a lob than a fastball.

If you're an inveterate softie looking to hydrate your eyes, yes...can't bear the thought of missing good work by Redgrave and Stamp, maybe...low tolerance for having your intelligence insulted (or dreadful renditions of "Love Shack"), it's a definite no.

True crime with a dash of social satire...Coppola remains mesmerizingly stylish, but...The Bling Ring winds up being skin deep: superficial characters portrayed superficially in a shallow-pool reflection of shallowness.

The film is undeniably a celebration of community, but on Shira, one gets the disturbing whiff of Stockholm Syndrome.

On balance, this new cinematic take on a 75-year-old icon constitutes a worthy Superman movie and a modest improvement for a franchise that had creatively stalled.

This type of thing has already been diluted by...Funny or Die...The main difference...is that This is The End is profane in the extreme, an R-rated stoner comedy gleefully grafted onto a 'splatstick' horror picture...

Although Vaughn's riffing skills remain in fine form, as do Wilson's, the story makes every obvious and conventional choice.

So preposterous in its particulars, so ludicrous in its lowdown, that you're liable to kick yourself silly for having bothered to play along.

Nothing new, but given its solidly built kids' adventure, I'm not going to, y'know, look down on it.

Less like a movie and more like a contractual obligation.

Smart or...dumb? Yes, and...fun to hang around with for a couple of hours.

Luhrmann approaches the story and directs his actors in ways that hold them at a distance from us: the overkill plays less as bold art and more as lack of trust in the source material.

Inviting photography and a relentless pace complement Claude's unfolding narrative, but the big thrills are in the deftly drawn characters...and the incisive satire...

Works best when it sticks close to Henry, whose broad grin fails to mask a growing desperation. Quaid not only makes a believably corn-fed patriarch, but he captures the mien of one who is slowly ceding his soul...

Perhaps it's damning Renoir with faint praise to call it agreeable, but Gilles Bourdos' film...shows an admirable restraint, quiet simplicity, and lush pictorial beauty.

The most satisfying cinematic experience we've had at the multiplex thus far this year, and largely through its disinterest in playing along with movie trends.

There are two types of people in the world. Those who should under no circumstances see the horror sequel/reboot Evil Dead and those who just gotta see it.

Do not consume The Host before operating heavy machinery. Side effects may include spontaneous coma or fits of giggling.

Appears to have been market-tested to within an inch of its life, so despite a theme of finding the capacity to evolve, the picture remains mired in the tar pit of formula.

This pretty period-pictorial companion piece to the novel fatally misses out on the brain-firing raw buzz that Kerouac felt and passed on to his readers...

Park’s skills for surreal subjectivity and the mischievously weird certainly don’t hurt, but they can’t quite banish Stoker’s narrative speed bumps and draughts of cold air...