Maleficent (2014)

Without Angelina Jolie, would there have been any reason to make, much less watch, “Maleficent,” the new, live-action take on the “Sleeping Beauty” evil lady turned dragon? Likely not. The star of “Tomb Raider” lords over this movie with absolute ease, dressed in black leather and horns, and makeup that makes her already sharp cheek bones seem as if razors. We’re quickly told the fairy tale story we all know is bunk, up is down, down is up, and Maleficent is the wronged and wounded fairy that is our hero, and villain, justified in her anger. She begins a graceful child with wings and love of nature who befriends a young human boy who will years later –- and after a grievous deed -– become a crazed Macbeth-type king (Sharlto Copley) with … well, honesty not much of a motive. Yeah, there’s the curse the baby Aurora thing, but it’s iffy up ’til then. Despite lots of busy useless narration. Script issue? I digress. Is anyone here for the script? Does it matter the climactic “true love’s kiss” is easily known and blasé? No. This is all for Jolie. Period. She’s breathing fire, and happily laughing evil. (Psst, Aurora is a side dish here.) B

Elysium (2013)

After South African filmmaker Neil Blomkamp made instant classic “District 9,” he had to go big. So, it’s inevitable that his studio summer flick “Elysium” would disappoint. The hero here is Max (Matt Damon), an do-gooder ex-con in 2154 who suffers an accidental death-sentence radiation dose at work, where he builds the RoboCops that abuse the populace. Max won’t die quiet. He wants to get his ass to Elysium, a glistening, guarded spaceship hovering over Earth like a second moon. Ninety-nine percenters alert: Elysium is home only to the rich, and features medical machines that cure any injury or illness. Earth? It’s crowded, dying. Now oddly armored with an exoskeleton from “Aliens,” Max is out for Elyisum, but has to pass through a bounty hunter (Sharlto Copley of “9”) and a military honcho (Jodie Foster, dishing a whack accent). Bound to Hollywood cliché now, Blomkamp tosses in an angelic childhood sweetheart (Alice Braga) with an adorable Dickens preschooler with end-stage leukemia, who also needs curing. What will Max do? Blomkamp’s visuals thrill, but as the climax grinds too easy and “9” echoed too deeply, his leftist sci-fi throwdown feels a weak second effort. B

The A-Team (2010)

“The A-Team” is a great B-movie, full of stunts and action so outlandish they make “The Rock” seem as dead serious as “Schindler’s List.” I expected nothing more. This re-make is, after all, based on a 1980s TV show so silly even at age the age of 10, I knew I was watching candy corn being pelted at my noggin. Case in point here: Our heroes “fly” a tank -- falling from the sky -- by blowing off shells in exact succession. The vehicle crashes in a lake, and out it rolls, without a scratch. Candy corn? No. This is the TV show after it injected a bag of liquid sugar, and downed 10 5 Hour Energy shots.

This update takes the same characters and general plot, and injects high-end CGI effects and comic-book violence. As before, the “A-Team” is comprised of four Army rangers framed for a crime they did not commit. We have John “Hannibal” Smith (Liam Neeson, replacing the late George Peppard), Templeton “Face” Peck (Bradley Cooper, in for Dirk Benedict), B.A. Baracus (Quinton “Rampage” Jackson, taking up Mr. T’s mohawk) and “Howlin’ Mad” Murdoch (Sharlto Copley, picking up the crazy from Dwight Schultz). The men are un-killable, quick on wit and have exact timing for every movement down cold. And they smoke. Big fat cigars.

The first 10 minutes of film are a mess as director Joe Carnahan and his crew of screenwriters needlessly spell out how the A-Team met in Mexico after a two-man job by Hannibal and Face goes wrong. It includes a meet-cute involving B.A. and Hannibal that involves a gun and mutterings about fate that plays weirdly homoerotic. Thankfully, the film kicks snaps into focus post-credits as the men get their gym socks pulled over their heads after a mission involving stolen U.S. mint printing plates goes terribly wrong. You can figure out the rest: The team breaks out of prison, nail the bad guys, commits unfathomable wreckage, smile and smoke cigars. End credits. No spoilers here.

In the hands of lesser actors, the film could be an abysmal failure. But Neeson has made far worse films (“Taken”) shine on charisma alone, and he makes Peppard seem old and, well, dead. Ditto for Cooper, playing up his “Hangover” charm as clever womanizer Face. Jackson holds his own, even if he can’t top Mr. T’s boldness. But who could? Copley, so good in “District 9,” is sacked with the least interesting role as pilot Murdoch, and still glides by on funny voices. It ain’t his fault. Carnahan and the writers never tap into the character’s rattled brain, and he spends the climax literally on his ass, a bag over his head.

The OTT climax? It makes the flying tank escapade seem quaint, yet dazzles. Throwing shots at this film is like ripping a child’s drawings, the stray marks and inanity of it all is the point. Any try at figuring out the triple-crossing gaggle of villains only kills more brain cells. These are action scenes strung together en masse. And that’s OK. That was “The A-Team” in its glory days of old. This isn’t the summer movie of 2010, but it’s a placeholder. And like its source, it’ll probably play well on TV. More like "The B Team."