While I’ve never hated any of these Divergent efforts, this latest one certainly tried my patience to an exasperating degree, Allegiant a tedious exercise in futility even fans of the series will have a hard time finding anything worthwhile to talk about once it comes to an end.

In the end, though, it is Field and Field alone who makes Hello, My Name Is Doris what it is, my affinity for the motion picture growing in leaps and bounds the more I think about her almost effortless brilliance which brings both the character, and the movie itself, to vivacious life.

[Road Games] is well structured, gorgeously shot and confidently directed, and as feature-length narrative debuts go Pastoll’s is a strong one that has me blissfully excited to see what he’s got in store for us all in the very near future.

For a movie that was playing to everyone, to all audiences, to all viewers no matter what their background or faith, to have it suddenly blatantly preach to the converted and to the converted alone is a missed opportunity of massive proportions, making watching Miracles from Heaven at all a serious waste of time.

There is an inherent ugliness to Rabid Dogs I couldn’t help but find distasteful. It honestly drove me a little nuts, especially considering I had the primary tricks Hannezo and company had up their sleeves pegged long before they were prepared to unleash them.

Here is all you need to know about 10 Cloverfield Lane: It’s awesome.

Yet I laughed. A lot. Almost for every single one of the film’s fast-paced 83 minutes, all of which ultimately makes The Brothers Grimsby a rambunctiously uncouth satire that’s as disgusting as it is riotous. Not sure that’s a recommendation, but there it is all the same.

Knight of Cups is writer/director Terrence Malick at his most lyrically esoteric. If his last film, the atmospheric, if claustrophobically nondescript saga of love and woe To the Wonder was the acclaimed filmmaker’s attempt to pick away at cinematic convention, it is with this one that he abandons traditional narrative constructs entirely.

If Whiskey Tango Foxtrot isn’t as incisive or as penetrating as it potentially could have been, for a major studio satirical look at the war in Afghanistan there’s still plenty of food for thought here. Ficarra and Requa get more right than they do wrong, and while Carlock’s script isn’t a warts-and-all expose it digs just deep enough to keep the average viewer with even of a modicum of intelligence satisfied.