Rife with cringe-worthy humor and directionless plotting, "Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2" is one train-wreck of fat-shaming caricatures, juvenile gags, feculent jokes, and painfully forced laughs, resulting in a film that's neither an intentional parody of action movies nor unintentionally bad to be laughed at for sheer absurdity. It just turns out to be oblivious of its own obnoxious unfunny, which revolts viewers at the abomination that unfolds with each passing scene of escalating monstrosity.

Dull, downbeat, and lackluster in all departments (yes, even the special effects seem surprisingly average) this reboot of "Fantastic Four" is a sheer waste of all the talent involved and a woefully misguided attempt to translate a classic comic series without the humor, joy, or vibrant thrills that made it great. It ends up alternating between predictable and incoherent plot elements, which are exacerbated by, dreadful dialogues, cardboard characterizations, insipid visual dynamics, and, quite frankly, the worst possible editing to emerge in a big-budget Hollywood film since a long time.

"Hotel Transylvania 2" is marginally better than the original, which isn't enough of a recommendation to cope with 89 minutes of corny sentimentality, juvenile gags, jarringly colorful animation, and a ludicrous excuse for a plot. Moreover, kids aren't likely to get the jokes about Gary Oldman​'s wig in the 1992 film "Dracula", nor sympathize closely with the emotional difficulties the big-daddy of vampires faces in becoming a grandparent. Adults will have seen virtually all of this before.

"Seventh Son" squanders an excellent cast and promising plot to deliver a disappointingly dull fantasy adventure. The film is basically a rich man's Uwe Boll version of "Dungeons and Dragons" - plenty of world-in-peril hokum encased in a narrative vacuum, but sans the tacky visuals and sub-standard CGI creatures. All thing considered, you have to admire a movie which takes a gold-star cast, including Jeff Bridges, Julianne Moore, and Alicia Vikander and creates such irredeemable rubbish. It even manages to induce Oscar-winners Bridges and Moore into delivering two of the hammiest performances of their distinguished careers. It's quite difficult to comprehend why this stellar cast all signed up for Director Sergei Bodrov's cluttered, undercooked, distinctively lackluster, and downright drab sword-and-sorcery fantasy.

One of the most insipid, lackluster, and soporific horror films of all time - yes it's that bad. Right from the buildup, which was haphazardly presented to the progression of the story, which was monotonously dragged on with little or nothing really happening to the supposedly anticipated, big reveal in the climax, which ended up petering out like a damp squib - just nothing went right for this film. While the cast tires their level best to elevate proceedings, the hackneyed writing by John Harrison and Alex Garcia Lopez's pretentious direction leave absolutely no scope for redemption.

Full of unrealized potential and an interesting sci-fi premise that's left completely unexplored, "Air" disappoints in not where it goes, but where it doesn't go. Those thinking of checking it out at least for the promise of some crackling chemistry between Norman Reedus and Djimon Hounsou's would also be left dissatisfied because Director Christian Cantamessa seems heel-bent on criminally underutilizing their acting talents.

Kenneth Branagh, who boasts quite an impressive directorial repertoire, shockingly wields the camera like a quill pen in his latest offering, mannered and dull, seeking Shakespeare where he isn’t. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how Branagh mishandles “Cinderella”, so reverent and corny in its approach when a slight swerve from the traditional wouldn’t hurt. We obviously can’t expect a rollicking fairy tale spoof like “Enchanted” or a delectably tangy retelling of Sleeping Beauty’s classic yarn from the principal antagonist’s perspective (a la “Maleficient”). No, “Cinderella” and her glass slippers or shoes or whatever they are doesn’t offer as much scope for innovation as her other fairy princess counterparts. Besides, hers was also the one tale, unlike most other classic fairy tales, that had deep-rooted patriarchal, sexist, and downright questionable themes. With that being said, this “Cinderella” is still achingly old-fashioned, with scant humor, a regressive heroine, and a buffoon for a fairy godmother. A darn shame when Branagh and Disney’s bosses could have easily tweaked the story without going completely off-course to usher in a new, rational age for Cinderella – the tale does date back to 1697 after all.

Branagh’s film portrays an outdated Disney princess from a time before Ariel and Belle redefined femininity in enjoyable animated retellings. Plenty of assertive, ambitious women have been drawn since. The trend toward live-action fairy tales gives them even more backbone. So why does Ella, played by poseable starlet Lily James (“Downton Abbey”), need to be this bloodless, submissive, and desperately in need of Prince Charming? Branagh even robs Ella of her singing voice; no dream-wish song for her, or any compositions from the 1950 soundtrack until the end credits.

James makes a lovely submissive, always turning the other perfectly sculpted cheek when life slaps her character Ella. She doesn’t convey any more depth than a theme park Cinderella welcoming guests. It doesn’t seem fair to match an amateurish James’ pallid performance against veteran Cate Blanchett’s deliciously wicked stepmother, Lady Tremaine. Her steely gaze and venomous line readings are the second-best thing about “Cinderella”, the first being Sandy Powell’s swoony costume designs.

Running contrary to its message, the film seems content to fit in rather than stand out from its numerous predecessors on stage and screen. That familiarity renders its wholesome approach somewhat tedious. Perhaps it’s missing a little “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.”

Shankar, who wears his commercial tag like a medallion, has an addiction for making big commercial films. While he’s been quite successful at it all these years, it has slowly started to have an adverse effect on his films to the extent that even the presence of a bankable star like Vikram, doesn’t add much value to the output.

In his much anticipated film “I”, Shankar proves yet again that only he can take a wafer thin plot and turn it into something outlandishly beautiful. Alas, it isn’t enough to infuse some vigor into an insipid screenplay. Here he attempts to narrate a mash-up of a romantic, sci-fi, thriller tale in his latest offering, said to be made at a budget of over Rs. 100 crore – the result is harebrained, juvenile, bloated, and utterly convoluted.

It’s also a complete shame that Shankar resorts to playing with the sensibilities of a transgender character, openly mocking at the sexual orientation, and painting the character as a jilted fiend.

Vikram may have worked tirelessly, gaining and losing weight for his role, but that doesn't necessarily translate to good acting. In both the roles – as a body builder and a hunchbacked man with a rare cell deterioration disease – he makes one take notice of his potential and how far he can go for cinema; it’s about time he delivers on that potential. Amy Jackson chips in with a surprisingly decent performance and has worked hard on her lip sync, at least in some crucial scenes. Upen Patel, Suresh Gopi, and Ramkumar Ganesan come across as misfits in their respective roles.

Given the lavish budget, “I” is visually grandiose, and that’s not a surprise. But the visuals don’t make up for the weak script, tacky direction, huge plot-holes, and major demand on a complete suspension of disbelief. Even AR Rahman’s music isn’t up-to-the-mark. All that’s big may not necessarily be great. Hope Shankar realizes that much better films can be made on a smaller canvas and lower budget.

An underwhelming, drab take on the twilight years of cinema’s most famous fictional character. The joy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novel and short stories was the way they balanced personal and procedural tensions, forcing Holmes to both exercise his genius and realize his social disconnection from the world. Condon’s film has a trio of stories occurring in different timelines, but they are far too flimsy and schematic to add to much more than a senior-citizen version of fan fiction. Even the intriguing premise of the brilliant detective struggling to hold onto his celebrated genius as age erodes his faculties is poorly conceived, mostly serving to delay us from learning the particulars of Holmes’ final, ultimately underwhelming, case.

Luckily, the relationship between Holmes and Roger works. There is genuine chemistry between McKellen and Parker, and the little bit of thematic sophistication that resonates comes from the boy’s realization that his cherished hero is subject to the same tragic realities as everyone else. Unfortunately, the screenwriters can’t resist the urge to throw in a third act tragedy that is more about manipulating the audience than serving the story.

McKellen, in the end, is what makes the movie worth watching. With his gnarled mug and fierce gaze, he effortlessly slips between Holmes’ timelines, transitioning from doddering, regret-filled confusion to the more poised and incisive persona of his prime. If only this final chapter matched his captivating performance. Sherlock Holmes deserved far better.

While it borrows the basic storyline from the 1983 film, "Vacation" forgets to look back on the charm, wit, heart, and rib-tickling humor that had characterized National Lampoon's family friendly franchise (particularly the 1983 and 1989 entries). In fact, it blatantly discards any warmth we had felt for the original Griswold family, and makes us never want to care for what happens to this next generation being shepherded by Rusty Griswold (Ed Helmes in a career-damning role) - the little boy from the family's first vacation, who's all grown up now and hell-bent on giving his family their very own memorable road-trip, and in the course, eradicating any fond memories viewers would have retained from the original classic. If anything, this reboot made me want to watch the erstwhile "Vacation" films all over again - yes, all of them - just to rid myself of the sour aftertaste left by this latest entry. Helms and Applegate seem to put in loads of effort to make the best with the shoddy material given to them, but, the harder they try, the more forced and desperate the entire movie seems. "Vacation" is yet another nostalgia-driven, desperate cash-grabber that completely misses the mark.

It’s truly tragic to see that Vikas Bahl, the Director of the groundbreaking "Queen", to flounder so suddenly, inexplicably, and woefully in only his sophomore effort, offering mere glimpses of the sterling potential and immense talent he had displayed in his debut feature. "Shaandaar" tries so hard to be funny that it ends up being completely unfunny. The actors gamely try to breathe life into it, but the script gets worse with each passing act. The film is bloated with excess. Songs dressed up for the heck of it, dialogues that say nothing, and entire sequences that go absolutely nowhere. If you must watch "Shaandaar", then watch it for Alia Bhatt and no one or nothing else. She's as natural as ever, and the more you see of her, the more you're amazed at her spontaneity, depth, mannerisms, and precocious realism that breathes life into the most mundane roles. The lass is filled with troves of untapped potential that our filmmakers have only yet scratched the surface of.

“The Diabolical” is a tepid horror movie that never manages to sell, much less clarify, its potentially ambitious concept. Although the plot becomes needlessly busy as the proceedings move forward, Director Alistair Legrand fails to generate palpable terror and the denouement, too, feels extremely rushed. None of the elements – the scary stuff, the psychological drama, the family crises – really come together to deliver that wallop necessary to provide truly memorable horror fare, they don’t even work individually to generate moderately passable horror fare.

Pixar's latest feature wonders what life would have been like if the asteroid that had killed the dinosaurs hadn't hit Earth. According to writers Peter Sohn (who also directed), Erik Benson, Meg LeFauve, Kelsey Mann, and Bob Peterson, it would have been like a western movie, with dinosaurs as farmers, cowboys, and outlaws. That's not a story, it's an idea, and a half-baked one at that. Sohn and company, whose prior credits consist mainly of grunt work for Pixar (animator, storyboard artist, additional voices etc.), were pathetically unready for prime time, and the result of their blown opportunity is an unrelieved disaster.

First and foremost, “The Good Dinosaur” is an excruciating bore, with no story whatsoever, and inhabited by dull characters. Secondly, what happened to the basic premise highlighted in the trailers and the film's opening act of what could have been had that asteroid not hit 66 million years ago...the writers dangled a candy of mind-boggling potential before audiences, and then totally abandoned it for a mundane tale with plot elements that have been done to death several times over. It was a story that didn't need the what-if-dinosaurs-had-survived setup; a story that could just as easily have worked if any other main character had been featured as its protagonist. And finally, regardless how dinosaurs might have evolved, T-Rexs couldn't have suddenly turned all affable, and no way would humans have become rabid, sniffing dogs - alright, now I'm nitpicking, but that's the level of frustration this film evokes.

“Infini” is a space zombie movie that features decent production design but an undecipherable plot, which is not at all helped by the pages of expository dialogue bellowed at lung-busting volume. This clunky, claustrophobic, Aussie-made dystopian sci-fi thriller has a plot that seems to have been constructed out of odds and ends from Ridley Scott, James Cameron, and Christopher Nolan sci-fi movies. Audiences acquainted with everything from “Aliens” to “Predator”, “Pitch Black” to “Sunshine”, and even “Pandorum” to “Prometheus” will find few surprises in “Infini’s” depths and ambiguous genre setting. Ambitious stuff but there’s a lot here that simply doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.

"Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Road Chip" is harmless enough, but not harmless fun, just harmless inanity, and harmless inanity is still inanity. It's terrible for adults, and exposing kids to this mind-numbing, imbecilic money-grabber that talks down to them, is surely not beneficial toward their development at an impressionable age. Enough with these squeaky, cocky, dimwits already - the next time the chipmunks make something together, I hope it's a fur coat.

From the first frame, you know you are in a Sanjay Leela Bhansali film. Everything is scaled up, grander than grand. It’s all razzle-dazzle, the way only Sanjay Leela Bhansali can turn it on. And then we tear our gaze away from the lush sets and the gorgeously attired actors and demand the very thing we come to the movies for: a story unfolding on screen. But we chance upon that story only sporadically, in between all the song-and-dances and the set-pieces in the battlefields and the palaces and the sparkling chandeliers, which keeps bringing us back to our original query: Where’s the plot point? Also, distorting history and not getting things perfect is one thing, but when a historical figure, revered and honored as much as the great Maratha Peshwa Bajirao is reduced to a new day Ranbir Kapoor in love, then that doesn’t sit right by me, regardless of any number of disclaimers at the start.

It is hard to imagine anyone else as Bajirao after Ranveer Singh finishes chewing up the part and cracking the Marathi accent. He absolutely owns the film with his swagger, strut, passion, diction, bravado, and remarkably restrained emotions – an actor truly enjoying himself in a role. Deepika Padukone looks lovely as usual but hasn’t melded with the part. Her Mastani is all dressed up but the performance is wish-washy. She starts off smiling oddly through grim dialogues but has the exact same expression boys with lightsabers sport while making their own sound effects. Her Mastani is obsessed with Bajirao, and while it was perhaps the film’s requirement that Padukone look giddily entranced, there are times when she appears completely lost. It doesn’t help that she’s entirely eaten up by Priyanka Chopra, who, while not in the title, holds her own against Ranveer's character with selflessness and dignity. Chopra’s terrific in the part, her intelligently expressive eyes speaking volumes and her no-nonsense Marathi rhythm bang-on.

Bhansali, for what it’s worth, has gone all out with this one. He’s made warrior girls play the banjo; he’s made Old Spice salesmen look old; he’s created outrageous subtexts about husbands and wives getting each other wet; and he’s even saluted world cinema and raised a few red lanterns. But too quickly you tire of all the showiness. The grandiosity wears off. You long for a genuinely moving, exciting story, featuring all these beautiful actors - most of whom are able to pull off characters - buried under mounds of attire. If only he had more to say than the fact that he loves “Mughal-e-Azam”.

The arrival of a new animated feature from American distributor GKids is usually a good sign. The company has given us international treasures and erstwhile Oscar nominees such as "The Secret of Kells", "Ernest and Celestine", "Chico and Rita", and "A Cat in Paris".

Its latest release is the Oscar-nominated Brazilian film "Boy & the World", and while the movie is definitely an example of the adventurous, idiosyncratic, art-house animated style the company has come to represent over the years, it comes nowhere close to achieving the heights of the aforementioned titles. Without using any intelligible or even decipherable dialogue (which would have been fine had the narrative not being so tedious and soporific; this is certainly no "Shaun the Sheep"), the animated offering lackadaisically tells the story of a young boy living in an impoverished countryside whose father moves to the city in search of work. Later, the boy follows him, and has a series of encounters that expose him to the woes of the modern world: urbanization, economic exploitation, environmental degradation, and so on. However, the narrative never attempts to offer alternative to what it alludes to being evils that urgently need to be eradicated from our lifestyles.

The simplistic moral message of the movie and its insistence on remaining nonverbal make "Boy & the World" feel like something that would have been more tolerable as a 15-minute short than an 80-minute feature, which makes us wonder why on earth did this travesty bag an Oscar nomination over other much more deserving animated features this year. Was it just because of the distributor's reputation...?

There are some strong genre-themed ideas (the ecological themes of “Deliverance”, the woodland devils of “The Evil Dead”) and impressively realized creature effects in former pop promo director Corin Hardy’s uneven feature debut. In "The Hallow", Joseph Mawle and Bojana Novakovic play newly sprogged parents whose presence in an Irish forest disturbs vengeful spirits, with devastating consequences for their infant son. While the core elements of the story never quite add up (writer/director Hardy struggles to reconcile the bad fairy fantasy with the “Straw Dogs”-y home invasion grit), there are a few arresting set pieces, most notably a night-time delve into an eerie lake that has an impressively weird atmosphere.

Buried somewhere beneath copious juvenile comic tracks – involving Johnny Lever as a petty thief, Sanjay Mishra as a stolen car-parts salesman, and Boman Irani as a local don searching his missing drugs – there’s at least one good twist and a few charming moments between Shah Rukh and Kajol who still manage to light up the screen like no other on-screen Bollywood couple. Varun Dhawan flexes every facial muscle to embrace the film’s hammy humor, but redeems himself in a nice emotional exchange with Shah Rukh in the film’s last act, while Kritis Sanon barely passes muster, regardless of an unbaked role. The real problem with "Dilwale" is the sheer artificiality of the enterprise. From the rainbow-hued sets and the touched-up landscapes in the Gerua song, to several moments of comedic and emotional coercions; so much of it just feels fake. Doesn’t help either that the film clocks in at a mind-numbing 155 minutes. I got up to leave at three different points that I imagined were the climax, only to discover that there was still more to come. Never a good sign when you’re looking at your watch instead of the screen. My final rating would have been still lower had it not been for the legendary chemistry of SRK and Kajol that never fails to sizzle the screen.

After reading the universally rave reviews, I got to watch the film very late in the day, and I’m sorry to say, I wasn’t blown away by it or anything. I know the usual argument: that it is better than your average Bollywood fare. But somehow, after years of watching, analyzing, reading, and writing about cinema, that lame argument doesn’t cut it for me any more. “Tanu Weds Manu Returns” does the classic movie trick of raising your expectations and slamming it down on your head with a gargantuan thud at the end. The only real saving grace you walk away with is Kangana Ranaut. In fact the movie is all about her and then some. Along the way she’s ably supported by R. Madhvan, Deepak Dobriyal, Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub, and Jimmy Shergill.

Ranaut is undoubtedly the hero of the film. She reminds you of the time when Sridevi would make films with less famous actors and carry them on her shoulders. And that’s all there is to the movie folks. Kangana Ranaut, Kangana Ranaut, and more Kangana Ranaut. Remove her twin performances from the equation and you’re left with a monotonous boy meets girl story (with some good, witty dialogues) where they come together again after resolving some mundane issues shrewdly blown out of proportion by the Director and writer.