
Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 movie review: stupor hero
Hard to believe, I know, but this is a real movie that real people have unashamedly put their names to. Because a sweet paycheck trumps human dignity.

Hard to believe, I know, but this is a real movie that real people have unashamedly put their names to. Because a sweet paycheck trumps human dignity.

Funky-elegant, weirdly funny, visually intoxicating. I love this movie so much for how it’s different about being more of the same old stuff we always love.

A deeply moving and very satisfying piece of entertainment that knits up seemingly disparate elements in a tapestry of family pain and pride.

Not so much a movie as a mismatched mix of dick jokes and rampant homophobia. I’m kidding: There aren’t any actual jokes here.

When director Crowe sticks to historical adventure, his film is tense and exciting. But it lacks a sense of magic that it needs to make it fully engaging.

Wannabe Christian swashbuckler throws a lot of stuff up on the screen in the hopes that something will stick as exciting and romantic. None of it does.

This high-school comedy avoids the worst clichés of the genre and resists rather than indulges the worst tendencies of adolescence. Which is a rare thing.

A same-old male-ego-stroking romantic-wish-fulfillment fantasy becomes actually enraging when it adds a sci-fi-horror twist.

This stinging GenX midlife meltdown is a bit strained in its plot, but that’s balanced out by lots of melancholy wisdom and bittersweet wit.

The Iranian skateboarding vampire feminist spaghetti western we have all been waiting for, creepy cool and gorgeously sinister, engorged with suspense and desire.