Amy Nicholson

Mistakes make people grow. The pressure to make precisely the right choice — or else — is what’s gotten society’s bedsheets in a twist. This is not a movie about healthy intimacy but Araki does suggest how people can find it: Sex doesn’t have to be a life-or-death thriller. It can be, as it is here, a comedy.

Cretton must shoulder an overburdened franchise. His film is likable as heck but never quite achieves liftoff.

Nolan’s “Odyssey” engraves marvelous images onto the ancient oral poem. One of the most haunting shots is Odysseus sprinting out of Hades chased by an army of the dead who regret following him into battle. In turn, Nolan has sacrificed Odysseus himself to serve his own needs, scrapping the character’s prickly personality to Trojan-horse a message about how empires collapse.

You know a movie is adrift when you spend the running time admiring the grooming.

My usual problem with capers is they almost always climax with a tedious chase sequence. Thankfully, Wain undermines the formula, simply snatching clever ideas as they flit past.

Coffin is fine inviting them into the big tent with the rest of us, if only to show where the Hollywood blockbuster machine can find its next gear. Go back to basics, his film says. Entertain, invigorate and charm. Not every movie has to be “Citizen Kane.” Just get everyone laughing.

I’m no sadist. They’ve suffered plenty for our amusement. Still, it’s a shame that for the first time in two and a half decades of cringe comedy, the guffaws feel forced.

Alcock’s wildling Supergirl is the one reason to see the film.

Lilypad’s creativity-zapping existence throws off Pixar’s ability to brainstorm a dynamic story.

The Death of Robin Hood feels like a director thinking only of his ambitions and not whether he’s making a movie anyone wants to bother to see. The lesson is right there in the film: Audiences decide what gets remembered.