Mental real estate is growing scarce as the Marvel Cinematic Universe continues to expand, introducing dozens of new characters (both super-powered and not) every year for fans to get acquainted with. Mere months after the jam-packed, super-sized Avengers: Age of Ultron hit theaters, we’re visited by the Ant-Man, a funny little fellow whose brothers in arms aren’t Asgardian gods or raging green monsters, but tiny critters skittering about, virtually invisible to the naked eye. Where does a mini-hero like Ant-Man fit into the pantheon of larger-than-life superheroes? Will anyone even notice?

Probably not. Peyton Reed‘s Ant-Man is a respectably entertaining cog in the MCU machine, but it does little to set itself apart from its beefier big brothers. It’s got things other Marvel movies don’t: it’s a heist movie; Ant-Man’s the first superhero father (Hawkeye’s a secret agent!); the action is small-scale (and very easy to follow). But Reed ain’t foolin’ nobody. This is as formulaic a movie as Marvel’s ever produced. Its third act is a lot of fun, but everything beyond that feels safe, as if the movie is afraid to dive into the loony ideas it dips its toes into (James Gunn‘s Guardians of the Galaxy dove straight into the deep end, positioning it as the cooler, edgier alternative to the Avengers). If only all superhero movies could be as courageous as their mighty protags.

Michael Douglas anchors the film as Hank Pym, a scientist who in the ’70s invented a super suit that grants its wearer the ability to shrink down to bug size while retaining the strength of a 200-pound man, essentially making him (or her) the stealthiest, most dangerous super soldier the world’s ever seen. Fearing the chaos that would ensue should the technology fall into the wrong hands, Hank hides his invention away to never be found again. Fast-forward to present-day, and it’s found, again, by his former protégé, Darren Cross (Corey Stoll), who’s taken over PymTech and plans to unleash an army of shrinking suits on the world.

Unwilling to let his ass-kicking daughter, Hope (Evangeline Lilly) don his old suit, he employs talented thief Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) to infiltrate Cross’ labs and steal back the dangerous tech and end this mess. Scott’s just been released from prison and has vowed to give up his former life of crime, but Hank promises to help him reunite with his young daughter (Abby Ryder Forston), who lives with Scott’s ex-wife, Maggie (Judy Greer, underutilized again) and her husband (Bobby Cannavale). Unable to secure a clean job due to his dirty record, Scott agrees to take on the proverbial “one last job.”

Formulaic. Formulaic. You can smell the tropes from a mile away. Just as the plot gets set in motion, the film screeches to a halt as we watch Scott learn to use the Ant-Man suit and speak to ants with his mind (it’s a protracted training montage). Running parallel is a story of father-daughter resentment, which comes to a head in a terrifically acted scene between Lilly and Douglas that nonetheless makes you feel absolutely lousy in an otherwise largely comedic affair.

Rudd always seems to know how to make a scene funny, but seldom do I find his smartass-ness downright hilarious. He’s a comedian of modest talents, though he’s well-rounded and handsome enough to make him a viable leading man. He gets a passing grade. His greatest strength as an actor is that he’s pretty hard not to like, which in the case of a movie like Ant-Man comes in handy: we genuinely want to see him reunited with his daughter. (Just for the record, Ryder Forston is insanely adorable; she’s missing her two front teeth, so none of us stand a chance.)

The surprise standouts of the cast are Tip “T.I.” Harris and Michael Peña, who play Scott’s bumbling burglar buddies. Peña’s comedic delivery is off-the-charts good, and he actually sort of makes Rudd look bad; Rudd’s jokes get mild chuckles while Peña’s makes the audience explode with laughter. Stoll has a great look, his powerful frame and villainously bald head making him more physically imposing than your typical mad scientist. If you blink, you’ll miss his best moment: somberly, like an abandoned child, he asks his former mentor why he pushed him away. Hank replies, “Because I saw too much of myself.” The movie’s pervading theme is one of the passing of generations, which stimulates little thought and doesn’t lend the movie much richness. It does, at least, give the story a solid foundation.

Thankfully, the movie gets really darned good once the big heist gets underway. After an hour or so of mediocrity, things really click into place; the action becomes more playful and inventive, and the actors start to let loose (especially Peña’s character, who sucks so bad at going undercover he just starts clocking security guards left and right and talking smack over their unconscious bodies). The final battle takes place in a little girl’s bedroom, and the ensuing visual gags are wildly entertaining and super funny. Ant-Man‘s micro-comedy isn’t as funny as the stuff Pixar did with the Toy Story franchise, but it comes close, which is a major compliment.

If Ant-Man‘s finale wasn’t so great, I wouldn’t hesitate to suggest you skip the movie entirely. References to other movies in the MCU (a certain winged Avenger makes a guest appearance) are cute and fun, though your enjoyment of that stuff depends on your geekiness level. Edgar Wright had an infamous falling-out with Marvel Studios partway through production and was replaced by Reed, and I wonder if the balls Ant-Man seems to be lacking went away along with the Shaun of the Dead mastermind.

After two movies worth of Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) and his stubby dwarf friends trudging across Middle Earth to the lair of the fearsome dragon Smaug, Peter Jackson’s distended Hobbit prequels come to an end with The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies, an action-packed last hurrah that sadly feels too reiterative and scattershot to chalk up the trilogy as anything but unworthy. Those who (understandably) come expecting a massive battle royale between hoards of dwarves, elves, men, and orcs will no doubt be satisfied, but those of us less inclined to settle for mindless decapitation, long battlefield camera swoops, and Orlando Bloom surfing on random objects will feel underwhelmed by the film’s lack of emotional depth.

Five Armies opens on a rousing note, with what could have (or should have) been The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug‘s climax: the vain, malevolent dragon Smaug (voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch, whose voice booms out of the speakers like thunder) torches the village of Lake-town, whose ill-equipped denizens have been dreading his arrival, with fiery vengeance (and breath), threatening to reduce every inch of the seaside locale to ashes and embers. Smaug is a remarkable achievement in digital effects, almost on par with Gollum. After raining hellfire and brimstone on the poor villagers, a heroic family man and archer (Luke Evans) manages to best the beast in a one-on-one showdown. From here the film sadly takes a permanent dip.

The charismatic Smaug’s end is a fitting one (it’s the film’s most exciting sequence by far) but with him out of the picture, it leaves us without a lead villain. Dwarf leader Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage) takes up the “Big Bad” throne, as he rescinds his promise to share the dragon’s treasure (whose dark properties seem to have corrupted him) with the survivors of the Lake-town attack, who desperately need the gold to rebuild what’s left of the village. They helped him get to the Lonely Mountain in the first place, after all.

The elven army, led by Thranduil (Lee Pace), shows up to claim a piece of the treasure, too, but Thorin’s having none of it, ordering his handful of loyal dwarf warriors to barricade the doors and calling for reinforcements from back home to fight the men and elf armies off for him. Then, a hoard of Orcs (and later, an army of…bats, or something; it isn’t really clear) shows up to crank the intensity up to eleven. It’s a massive, all-out skirmish for the rest of the film, and if you’ve seen The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, you’ll probably be hit with a big whiff of deja vu at this point.

It’s hard not to get caught up in all the sword clashing, giant military formations, grunting orcs and dwarfs (the elves don’t grunt as much), and other battle scene ridiculousness, especially if the thought of arranging five buckets of army men on your living room floor on Christmas morning and then smashing them all to hell in your pajamas still sounds fun to you. I’m still a kid at heart, so how could I resist a good melee? I can’t deny that I had a good bit of fun. The problem here is, it all feels very much like the open-field battle scene at the end of The Return of the King, and has inherited most of the same problems: it’s frantic, hard to follow (there are too many protagonists to keep track of), and way, way too long. It’s all so overblown that the (halfway decent) character work that builds up to the war almost feels like a means to an end, a 90-minute excuse to show you giant CGI orcs toppling over onto CGI warthogs.

There’s another issue I’ve had with Jackson’s Hobbit movies that’s as rampant as ever in Five Armies. The way Jackson films deaths, specifically when the good guys kill the bad guys, is so over-sensationalized and exploitative that at some points it feels as mind-numbing one of the Saw films. An orc vaults up toward Legolas, who’s standing on a higher platform in Lake-town. He uses his two short swords like scissors to behead the baddy and lets the severed head rest on his blades as the rest of the carcass falls to the water. I can understand how this can come off as pretty cool to some people, but to me, kills like this feel a little…trashy.

The Hobbit movies sure do look and feel like their Lord of the Rings big brothers, but there’s something off about them. It’s the little things: while some the original trilogy’s scenes glow with a majestic golden hue (like the ones in Rivendell), Hobbit‘s golden hues look more piss-yellow. (Gross, I know, but watch the films and tell me I’m wrong. Looks like piss.) But the larger issue here is that Hobbit‘s heroes and their plights aren’t all that compelling. Ian McKellen looks tired as hell in his sixth series outing as Gandalf; Freeman, who’s barely in the movie, can’t touch Elijah Wood’s brilliant turn as Frodo; Evangeline Lilly’s elf-lady has a crush on a dwarf that ends awkwardly; and Bloom’s just thrown in there to look pretty and perform unnecessarily acrobatic mass murder.

Five Armies‘ saving grace is Thorin, whose inner-struggle with his lust for power and gold is delivered incredibly well by Armitage. What bigger villain is there than greed itself? The war at the foot of the Lonely Mountain is nothing compared to the war going on inside Thorin’s mind and soul. It’s a great, intimate story told by a fine actor, but it unfortunately gets drowned out by all the noise.