Fairly routine adventure, adapted by director Baltasar Kormakur from Tami Oldham Ashcraft’s (Shailene Woodley) memoir about surviving 41 days on a storm-wrecked yacht in the Pacific. A carefree California girl whose only ambition is to sail the world, in 1983 Tahiti she meets a handsome British yachtsman (Sam Claflin), and they’re soon inseparable and planning their wedding. A friend (Jeffrey Thomas) who has to fly to America for an emergency, asks them to sail his yacht to San Diego, a journey of 4,000 miles. In only a matter of days, they fall prey to the full force of Hurricane Raymond, which produces deadly 40-foot waves. Throughout the ordeal that follows, Tami is portrayed as sometimes frustrated, but never paralyzed by terror, and always highly competent at any task. As a result, there’s less in the way of peril and more in the way of problems to be solved through quick thinking and action. Frequent gore, implied cohabitation, a glimpse of upper female and rear nudity, some light sexual banter, fleeting rough language. A-III; PG-13


BH Tilt

Brief but excessively graphic scenes of bloodletting mar this otherwise mildly interesting sci-fi thriller, set in a recognizable version of the future. Left a widower and a quadriplegic after a seemingly random attack by a group of thugs (led by Benedict Hardie), an auto mechanic (Logan Marshall-Green) agrees to let a wealthy inventor (Harrison Gilbertson) implant an artificial intelligence chip into his body that will cure his paralysis. But the device, which has a Siri-like voice (Simon Maiden) only he can hear, not only restores his normal abilities, it endows him with superhuman fighting prowess, enabling him to embark on a trail of investigation and revenge along which he must stay one step ahead of the police detective (Betty Gabriel) assigned to his case. Writer-director Leigh Whannell’s cautionary tale about the dangers of technology run amok eventually sees man and machine struggling for control, and only the reluctance of the human host to obey the ever-more savage will of his inhuman opponent will redeem for at least some grown viewers a film others will justifiably deem offensive. Much gory, occasionally gruesome, violence, mature themes, including vengeance and suicide, a scene of marital sensuality, a handful of profanities, numerous rough and crude terms. L; R

Hotel Artemis

Global Road

The hostelry of the title is, in fact, a secret, strongly secured hospital for criminals in the dystopian Los Angeles of the near future. As the riot-torn city spirals into chaos, a cross section of underworld types seeks shelter there, under the protection of the clinic’s troubled, eccentric head nurse (Jodie Foster) and the muscle-bound orderly (Dave Bautista) who enforces her strict rules. They include an assassin-for-hire (Sofia Boutella), two brothers (Sterling K. Brown and Brian Tyree Henry) wounded in a robbery attempt, a surly arms dealer (Charlie Day) and, eventually, the dreaded kingpin (Jeff Goldblum) who owns the place. Writer-director Drew Pearce gets things off to a stylish start, and Foster’s blend of toughness and vulnerability is compelling. But by the time the hyperviolent conclusion is reached, gore and bone-crunching have replaced creativity. Much bloody, sometimes grisly, violence, drug use, sexual references, about a dozen profanities, at least one milder oath, pervasive rough and crude language. L; R

Action Point


This chaotic, poorly crafted comedy amounts to little more than an endless succession of painful, supposedly amusing, pratfalls. Johnny Knoxville stars as the owner of a low-rent amusement park in the California of the late 1970s where the constant risk of injury allegedly adds spice to the fun. While entertaining his visiting daughter (Eleanor Worthington-Cox) for the summer, the divorced dad must also contend with a scheming businessman’s (Dan Bakkedahl) efforts to acquire his land and with competition from a more respectable establishment nearby. Besides being mind-numbingly boring, director Tim Kirkby’s film treats underage drinking as a rite of passage and furtive sex as a sight gag. Brief but graphic sexual activity, rear male nudity, sexual and scatological humor, about a dozen uses of profanity, several milder oaths, frequent rough and crude language. O; R

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?


This cheerful and reverent documentary about Fred Rogers (1928-2003), creator and host of PBS’ long-running “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” highlights his calm temperament, as well as his moral courage in the face of adversity and indifference. Director Morgan Neville, who includes interviews with Rogers’ family and supporting cast members in addition to vintage film clips, also enjoys making some faintly political points. Rogers’ spiritual life and his role as a Presbyterian minister are given only oblique references. But his gentle, soft-spoken personality shines through. Possibly acceptable for mature teens. A fleeting glimpse of rear male nudity, mature discussions of racism, homosexuality and death. A-III; PG-13

USCCB Office for Film & Broadcasting


A-I – General patronage

A-II – Adults and adolescents

A-III – Adults

A-IV – Adults, with reservations

L – Limited adult audience

O – Morally offensive

Motion Picture Association of America ratings:

G – General audiences; all ages admitted

PG – Parental guidance suggested; some material may not be suitable for children

PG-13 – Parents are strongly cautioned to give special guidance for attendance of children under 13; some material may be inappropriate for young children

R – Restricted; under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian

NC-17 – No one under 17 admitted