Contributor: Paul Asay

What kind of bodyguard can you hire with a few weeks’ allowance and some Bar Mitzvah money? A lying, cheating, stealing, conniving one who looks an awful lot like Owen Wilson.

All families have their ups and downs. But Michael’s family is having a particularly trying time. Maybe that’s because his stepfather is a serial killer.

I had hoped to be inspired. Instead, I was merely entertained. Iron Man 3 is what you’ve come to expect from a standard superhero movie

Mr. Fox has a good life: a wife, a child, a nice burrow in the woods, a comfy job at the local newspaper. Why, then, does he want to kill chickens so badly?

Before she can say ‘BRRR, it’s cold’ three times fast, Miami girl Renée Zellweger is up to her knees in snow and small-town values.

Claire Danes and Vanessa Redgrave embody the morning and evening of one woman’s life in a story full of love and loss, decisions, duty and despair.

Paul Rudd and Jennifer Aniston try to get away from it all at a commune of sorts. If only we could get away from this movie.

Jessica Alba has been telling everybody she’ll never appear nude in a movie. Instead, she should have been promising to never appear at all in ‘Good Luck Chuck.’ (It’s that bad.)

A remake of an Israeli thriller, The Debt examines the price of a lie and the weight of the world resting on the shoulders of three spies tasked with bringing a Nazi war criminal to justice.

Rob Zombie wants us to see Michael Myers’ face—and then to watch as he obliterates the faces of others.

Tom Cruise’s latest sci-fi actioner mashes up all sorts of things. And some of them aren’t even alien. It’s clever and mindless. It’s fun and foul. It’s instructive and destructive.

After an 11-year hiatus, the Scream franchise sharpens its knife to skewer the slasher film genre, our celebrity-obsessed culture … and its own audience.

This Jessica Alba-Hayden Christensen thriller borrows a supposedly real medical misfire to stage a harrowing journey to the OR for open heart surgery.

Inspirational (and insufferable) director Terrence Malick is back with a sometimes wonderful, sometimes sexual (and always unusual) rumination on love and faith.

You’ve already seen the title. So you don’t need to read this review. Really, you don’t. Don’t even bother. Move the cursor away. Click on something that’s quick instead of dead. Something green instead of red. Please. No, no, DON—