It's enjoyable enough to watch Mirren and McKellen square off for a while, until they run headfirst into one of the most preposterous third-act twists in the history of cinema. You'll think you see it coming—and you will, at least generally—but you'll still be unprepared for how stupid it is and how badly it's executed. Avoid.

In preparation for the new version of The Invisible Man, I rewatched this Universal classic for the first time in decades, and it is so much more wonderfully weird than I’d remembered it. The story is a little weak, but that scarcely matters: It’s all about James Whale (and Claude Rains) cutting loose with gleeful, glorious, pre-code nastiness. We marvel today that they achieved these special effects in 1933, but it's the film’s joyously evil heart that really startles.

For the love of all that’s holy, can someone please write Octavia Spencer a decent role?

I love stumbling upon something on cable that I would not have paid to see in a million years, and discovering it’s actually good. My expectations for a Marky Mark comedy from the director of Horrible Bosses 2 and That’s My Boy could not have been lower, but this is amazingly solid, authentically heartfelt, and genuinely funny. 

No, I can’t quite believe it either. But trust me.