Based on the 18th book in Childs’ seemingly never-ending series revolving around the character, Jack Reacher: Never Go Back has much to admire. Sadly, it has maybe even more to be disappointed with, the film living up to its title for all the wrong reasons.

There is no single decent reason to spend good money to see Keeping Up with the Joneses at the multiplex. In fact, I’m not even sure there’s one to warrant spending money on a rental when it ends up on VOD or at the local Red Box, and I sure as heck don’t think anyone should pick up the Blu-ray when it’s in the bargain bin at the neighborhood Wal-Mart.

With Ouija: Origin of Evil Flanagan cements his status as a rising directorial talent, especially as it concerns genre fair like this. Not only can I not wait to see what he has in store for us all next, I just as assuredly cannot wait to get a look at this nifty little piece of supernatural terror again for a second time.

As thrillers go, The Accountant is incontestably absurd. Funny thing is, as insane as things are, the film is so expertly mounted by director Gavin O’Connor (Tumbleweeds) and scrupulously scripted by Bill Dubuque (The Judge) all of the inanities and laughably convenient coincidences aren’t as big a problem as they should be.

There are so many striking moments, and Tiran’s performance is just so gosh darn terrific, that any hiccups that do arise are few and far between. Best of all, Wrona builds things to the type of shattering, emotionally catastrophic climax that lingers in the mind long after the curtain has closed, making Demon a paranormal descent into madness and mayhem that’s hauntingly good.

Under the Shadow cannily uses a fairly standard, if also expertly staged, ghost story to obsess over a character-driven story arc involving issues of marriage, motherhood, religious fundamentalism and feminism in ways that feel raw, visceral and altogether groundbreaking.

The Birth of Nation is hitting theatres at just the right moment. While I’m not entirely certain the lessons of Turner’s rebellion are ones that should be applied now, it’s just as clear they should still be looked at and analyzed. Whether Parker, considering his own complicatedly sordid history, was the one to bring the story to the screen is an entirely different question, one that I don’t think any of us will feel comfortable answering for quite some time to come.

Moorhouse’s willingness to push the envelope and dive into the darkest aspects of the tale with such macabre relish allows the emotions swirling within this maelstrom to resonate all the deeper, The Dressmaker an haute couture Aussie barnburner that’s dressed to the dark comedy nines.

But it’s all for naught, and even with the unhinged lunacy of the climax proving to be a cringe-worthy force of unintentional, and uncomfortable, hysterics, The Girl on the Train is so leadenly paced and so blandly shot even its great moments sink underneath the surface like a lead balloon.