THE HOBBIT: THE DESOLATION OF SMAUG

The first great sequence in The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug - and, sadly, one of the few truly great sequences in Peter Jackson's second (or fifth, if you'd rather) J.R.R. Tolkien installment - is an escape scene. At its start, hobbit protagonist Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) and his dwarf companions sneak out of the Elven dungeon cells in which they've been imprisoned, and hope for clean getaways by stashing themselves in empty wine barrels and floating down a nearby river. Sounds simple. And it might have been if it weren't for the rapids, and the waterfalls, and the whizzing arrows, and the savage orcs, and Orlando Bloom gingerly bouncing atop our heroes' heads.

OZ THE GREAT & POWERFUL

As numerous effect-heavy entertainments have proved over the years, few film actors, and even fewer good ones, look altogether comfortable performing in wholly pixelated landscapes opposite wholly digitized characters. Yet I'm not sure I've seen any star look less connected with his artificial environment than James Franco does in Oz the Great & Powerful, director Sam Raimi's mega-budgeted and intensely disappointing prequel to The Wizard of Oz.

BEAUTIFUL CREATURES

As it concerns a sensitive high-schooler who enters a world of trouble after falling for a moodier version of Sabrina the Teenage Witch, it should come as no shock to learn that the supernatural romance Beautiful Creatures is based on the first in a series of popular young-adult novels. But while I'd never argue that the YA-lit genre is completely humorless, surely the gender-reversed Twilight knock-off by co-authors Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl can't be as legitimately, intentionally hilarious as this big-screen adaptation, right?

SNOW WHITE & THE HUNTSMAN

The first words heard in Snow White & the Huntsman are "Once upon a time ... ," and for the next 125 minutes, the movie unfurls like a malicious, exhilarating fairytale for adults - or a bedtime story for really, really naughty kids. In an age when most screen adaptations of familiar childhood stories quickly descend into camp - either intentionally (Mirror Mirror) or unintentionally (Red Riding Hood) - the intelligence and violence and emotional hunger of debuting director Rupert Sanders' Snow White saga feel utterly welcome, and even somewhat revolutionary. By the film's finale (and I presume this isn't a spoiler), good has triumphed and evil has been vanquished, but the weight of the characters' horrific experiences hasn't been forgotten; it's clear from their serene yet exhausted expressions that while Snow White and her kingdom's subjects get their Happily Ever After, they'll more likely be living Happily, Hesitantly, Ever After.