The problem with reboots and remakes of great movie franchises is that, about 90 percent of the time, they get caught up in paying homage to their predecessors, recalling the original’s most iconic scenes and doing them half as well. Terminator: Genisys falls neatly into this category of uninspired fan service cash grabs, but to its credit, it’s the cream of the crop when it comes to Hollywood schlock. It’s a well-oiled, inoffensive thrill machine that doesn’t approximate T1 and T2‘s entertainment value by a zillion miles, but is by and large a painless, easily-digestible summer action movie starring the former king of summer action movies.

Arnold Schwarzenegger (I will from this point forward only refer to him as “Ahnold,” because I must) has reinvented his career in recent years by shedding all self-seriousness and making movies (as far as we can tell) for the fun of it. He acknowledges that he’s 67 years old and no longer pilots his career with a macho-bullshit attitude, and that’s really, really endearing. This newly acquired “old guy” appeal is the best thing about this fifth installment of the long-running Terminator franchise, in which he reprises his role as the T-800, though this time with a paternal twist (as strange as that sounds). Will hearing Ahnold say “I’ll be back” ever get old? His new catchphrase, “Old. Not obsolete,” might be the best answer to that question. Ahnold isn’t as badass or relevant as he was twenty years ago, but heaven knows he’s still fun to watch.

Director Alan Taylor’s picture begins with the series’ most familiar scenario. We start in a machine-ravaged 2029 and find human resistance leader John Connor (Jason Clarke) sending his right-hand man, Sgt. Kyle Reese (Jai Courtney), back in time to protect (and knock up) his mother, Sarah Connor (Emilia Clarke). History gets skewed, however, as Kyle arrives in an already-altered 1984 in which Miss Connor is a far-from-fragile machine killer who’s been protected since childhood by a T-800 she calls “Pops” (Ahnold). From this point forward the film becomes both a continuation of the original mythology and a reboot of sorts, a la JJ Abrams’ 2009 stab at Star Trek. It sees Sarah and Kyle launched forward to 2017 to destroy Skynet, which has taken the form of a popular life-management operating system called “Genisys,” before the world-wiping “judgment day” ever happens.

It comes as no surprise the movie is packed wall-to-wall with time-travel explication, mostly administered by the socially ill-equipped Pops (in Ahnold’s iconic Austrian monotone, of course). Kyle hurtles from 2029, to 1984, to 2017, where he finds himself in the awkward situation of learning that his mentor is actually his son, whose mother is the girl he’s been manipulated to fall in love with for years, but just met yesterday. There are alternate timelines, memories from impossible pasts, flashbacks to the future—the mind boggles! But not too much. Taylor actually does a great job of making the time-travel loopiness easy to follow, though the humor mined from it is pretty lame; watching Kyle agonize over timeline logistics is grating, especially when he makes the obligatory “Say it in English!” joke.

The movie never gets stopped dead by the bullets of exposition because the action is piled on so relentlessly. It’s all pretty standard fare: big, meaty explosions; buses doing somersaults in slow motion; San Francisco getting brutally demolished (seriously, what’s with Hollywood’s current obsession with wiping out SF?). The action, like the plot, is comprehensible and well presented, but doesn’t bring a whole lot to the table in terms of artistry or innovation. (An effect that sees the newest terminator incarnation leaving shadows of itself behind while breaking free from an MRI is the sole exception.) Taylor simply doesn’t have the knack for over-the-top action Cameron does, though fans will be happy with some of the movie’s shameless recalls to the originals (“old” Ahnold throwing fists with CGI young Ahnold is awesome).

The father-daughter-new boyfriend dynamic between the three leads is amusing, but it fails to launch emotionally. It’s good for laughs from time to time (Kyle and Pops exchanging impudent glares as they race to fill ammo clips in an unspoken “best guardian” competition), but the movie’s dramatic climax is a stinker that goes nowhere fast. The actors are serviceable (Courtney is a much better villain than hero, as seen in the Divergent series), with Ahnold’s robot-failing-at-acting-human schtick being the most memorable character impression we’re left with. There’s a levity to the material that may infuriate those who hoped for a grittier kind of doomsday movie, though I found it welcome.

Terminator: Genisys is a bridge to the future in that it captures the feel (not the greatness) of T1 and T2 while laying the groundwork for a full departure from the old mythology in forthcoming installments. J.K. Simmons makes an appearance as the only surprise in a mostly unsurprising movie, playing a ruffled cop who’s spent decades obsessing over a life-changing experience he had with a deadly robot in 1984. He’s a warm representation of the legions of fans who’ve been in love with the Terminator series since 1984’s The Terminator; the childlike smile on his face while in the presence of Sarah Connor, John Connor, Kyle Reese and the T-800 says it all.

Russell Crowe’s shaky-but-inspired directorial debut, The Water Diviner, is a ballad honoring his native Australia, focusing on one of the most formative moments in the country’s history: the crippling defeat at the WWI battle of Gallipoli. Australia’s resolve and determination to rebuild following such an enormous loss of life is embodied in this film by a grieving farmer named Connor (Crowe) who lost his three sons at Gallipoli. He vows to journey back to the Ottoman empire, reclaim their bodies, and return them to Australia where they can rest in peace beside their mother, who literally perished under the weight of having outlived her children. Left beaten and stripped in the ashes of his former life, Connor’s only remaining purpose is to honor his family’s memory.

There’s an almost insurmountable problem standing in Connor’s way once he arrives at the scarred and scorched landscape where his sons were slain by gunfire: their remains lay buried among the thousands of scattered Turk and Australian bones scattered across the battlefield. Thankfully, Connor’s a water diviner, someone who can intuit the exact spot where water can be found underground; he made a living off his gift back home, but now must use for a more sullen purpose, locating his fallen sons.

Let’s get this out of the way: Yes, the idea that this man could pinpoint the spot where his sons died on the battlefield is utter nonsense. But in a melodrama like this, in which emotions are sweeping and inflated, it’s understandable that logic and probability get inflated as well. The success of the main storyline revolving around Connor’s oath to retrieve his sons is two-fold: Crowe’s acting is sharp and grounded and honest, and the story’s presentation is slick, easy to follow yet unpredictable.

The pebble in the film’s shoe is a parallel romance plot in which an Istanbul hotel owner (Olga Kurylenko) who, still reeling from the loss of her husband in the war, has developed a searing hatred for Australians, somehow learns within a few days to push all that aside for the sake of Connor’s dimples and muscles and manly beard. Connor’s interest in her is hard to buy as well: his mission to find his sons is serious business, but hey, I guess he’s got time to flirt and go on dates with a pretty lady while he ignores ghosts of his wife and children lurking in the back of his mind. It feels like a big, dumb distraction from the main narrative, which is actually very well done. Connor’s fast friendship with the woman’s peppy, eager-to-help son (Dylan Georgiades) is cute and occasionally good for a laugh, but whenever Connor refocuses on his primary task, the relationship with the boy and his mother feels distant and trivial.

Crowe’s expanded his resume by directing for the first time, but he seems much more comfortable when he exchanges his director’s cap for Connor’s black brimmed hat. He’s a great actor, and that remains his primary strength as he consistently fortifies the film with his gritty performance. His craftiness as a filmmaker is limited by contrast. The battle scenes in the film, for example, are comprehensible and laid out logically, but lack artfulness. The staging and choreography are good, but he never places the camera in the most practical place rather than the most interesting place. The resulting action set pieces look too organized and manicured to feel climactic. The Water Diviner isn’t nearly as ugly and misguided as Unbroken, Angelina Jolie’s sophomore directorial feature, but Crowe’s got some serious holes in his directing game.

As a straightforward historical adventure, The Water Diviner would have been a fine film; unfortunately, it’s lovesick, spending too much time with its head in the clouds, dawdling with a disposable romance that makes the film feel cheap and American-ized. Crowe’s passion is evident, though, in his lived-in performance as a golden-hearted father carrying a load of regret on his back. The film’s got issues, but it’s a sincere, mournful celebration of a country that turned the pain of loss into strength.

Surprise: The action scenes in Insurgent, the follow-up to 2014’s dystopian sci-fi sensation Divergent (as if you haven’t heard), are actually pretty good. Take a late, trippy scene in which our returning, plucky heroine, Tris (Shailene Woodley), sprints after her mom (Ashley Judd), who’s trapped in a room on fire and detached from its building, floating away toward the horizon. Tris scrambles across rooftops and clings to hanging electrical wires, rubble whizzing by her face, as the mass of concrete and broken plumbing threatens to fly off into the stratosphere like a child’s lost balloon. It’s a thrilling, urgent sequence that manages to feel dangerous despite it taking place within a virtual landscape. (Tris’ mom is dead and, you know, rooms don’t fly. I’ll explain in a bit.) If only Insurgent were a straight-up action movie, it may have stood a chance.

But alas, those familiar with the first film and Veronica Roth’s hit young adult book series on which the franchise is based know that the series’ focus lies not in exciting set pieces, but in an ill-conceived mythology centered on a walled-in city (formerly Chicago) that herds people into factions based on predominant personality traits. A few moments of thought reveals this faction system to be laughably illogical and impractical, and yet it there it is, the bubble of idiocy within which all of the film’s events are informed and take place. So, while the action is entertaining when judged on its own, it always leads us back to the story’s dimwitted conceit. Practicality isn’t a storytelling prerequisite (especially when it comes to sci-fi), but there’s a point where suspending one’s disbelief so actively and extensively becomes a mind-numbing chore. Just like its predecessor, Insurgent is a head-scratcher from beginning to end, further cementing the series as the inferior alternative to the mighty Hunger Games juggernaut.

Things pick up shortly after the events of the first film, with Tris and her boyfriend, Four (Theo James), sharing a light chat and a kiss on a farming compound overseen by Amity (the pacifist faction), where they’re hiding from the military forces of Jeanine (Kate Winslet), the leader of Erudite (the rich, entitled faction). Her death, Tris thinks, is the key to city-wide peace, or something. Joining the killing-machine lovebirds on the farm are Peter (Miles Teller), Tris’ Dauntless arch-rival, and Caleb (Ansel Elgort), her formerly Erudite brother, but the four hideaways get quickly disbanded when a tank-driving hoard of Jeanine’s troops, led by merciless Dauntless turncoat Eric (Jai Courtney), raids the compound in search of Tris.

Oh, that Tris. She’s so special. Jeanine’s hunting her down because she found a mysterious box in Tris’ old Abnegation home. She needs a Divergent—someone who carries the primary traits of all five factions—to open it: Contained within is a message from the architects of the city (not Chicago, the new city, the one based on segregation), and only when someone endures all five faction-themed “sims” (that floating room deal was the Dauntless sim) will its contents be revealed. There are plenty of Divergents running around, but none that Jeanine’s managed to capture have thus far been able to survive the five virtual trials. She needs a special Divergent. The best Divergent. Who do you think that could be? Hm?!!

The main appeal of female-centric young adult series like Twilight, Hunger Games, and Divergent is that they provide young girls with a powerful, brave, sought-after, special heroine to project themselves onto, thereby feeding into their wildest center-of-the-universe fantasies. Allegory is the vessel by which these stories deliver their coming-of-age messages (Insurgent‘s happens to be one of self-forgiveness), but the problem with Roth is that she piles on so much on-the-nose allegory and symbolism that her messages feel hokey and forced and obtuse. The film’s cast is talented for days, and its director, Robert Schwentke, despite having a hit-or-miss catalogue (Flightplan, R.I.P.D., RED), has proven to be a very capable filmmaker. Everyone involved is capable of making good stuff, but what ultimately does them in is the shoddy source material.

The actors are pros put forth a decent effort, though it’s clear some of them would jump ship if they could. Teller and Elgort, who’ve each found major success in the 12 months since the first film, feel a bit overqualified for their roles at this point, but they make lemons out of lemonade, particularly Teller, who plays a great, love-to-hate-him turncoat weasel. He’s always a welcome on-screen presence, especially when he manages to squeeze some real humor out of otherwise lifeless scenes with nothing but a sarcastic eyebrow raise or a shifty glance. Woodley doesn’t do the action hero thing as well as Jennifer Lawrence does, but she’s better at looking vulnerable: when she’s in pain or letting out a heartened battle cry, her voice shakes and then cracks a bit, kind of like Sia when she belts out the chorus of “Chandelier”.

Though their performances feel uninspired across the board, the older actors lend the film some gravitas. Winslet plays Jeanine as a straight-up sociopath authority figure, showing no remorse for subjecting innocent Divergents to her evil experiments (though technically, the city’s founders designed The Box and how to open it, so are they evil too?), and Naomi Watts shows up as Four’s thought-to-be-dead, insurrectionist mother and leader of a group the heroes fall in with called the “factionless” (they’re essentially the opposite of Divergents). What’s strange is—and forgive me if this sounds lewd—Watts (who looks insanely good for her age) seems to have more sexual chemistry with James than Woodley does, despite playing his mom. Just throwing that out there. Octavia Spencer pops up for a second as the leader of Amnity, but she’s quickly forgotten before she can make an impression.

The visual effects are impressive, especially during the inevitable simulation set pieces, though the digital effects team seems to have a strange fascination with floating rubble (tons and tons of frozen-in-time rubble). What stands out more is the tangible stuff, the fight and action choreography, which is way better than it has any right to be. A nighttime Erudite vs. Dauntless ambush sequence is the best moment in the entire series, as it actually convinces you that there are human lives at stake (instead of miraculously dodging a zillion bullets, people actually get shot).

Without spoiling too much, I will say that the forthcoming two entries in the series, the Allegiant two-parter, have hope of not being bogged down by the same nonsensical premise as the first movies. But as far as Insurgent is concerned, it’s still stuck in the muck. The reveal of what’s inside “the box” is so dumb it hurts to think about. It simply doesn’t make any sense, which seems to be this series’ unintended overriding theme. Funny thing is, during the climax, Woodley actually says, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but you have to trust me,” to Four as he stares at her quizzically. That was worth a chuckle. If you’re able to push aside the confused machinations of the larger plot during the scenes of flashy violence, you may be able to find a bit of enjoyment in Insurgent. Beyond that, there isn’t much nice to say.

When the 4th sequel in the Die Hard sequel was announced I (along with millions of others) rolled my eyes. While the first three films are full of fantastic action, Live Free and Die Hard turned out to be a pretty uninspired (not to mention PG-13) mess. First, what the hell is Justin Long doing in the Die Hard series? Second off, as much as I love Timothy Olyphant, he was a terrible villain.

Ok, done ranting. Indiewire threw up the teaser trailer for the 5th film in series, A Good Day to Die Hard. While I was totally getting ready to start hating on the trailer before I started it, I have to admit that this looks like it could be a fun ride. This film looks to take our main squeeze John McClane (Bruce Willis, who else?) up against some Eastern Europeans. Those guys always seem to be trying to take over the world, am I right?

The trailer is loaded with tons of explosions and shootouts. While I’m not completely sold on the film, I feel less worried about how further the series will be ruined. The film is directed by John Moore who has directed such films as Behind Enemy Lines and Max Payne (both terrible). So sit back and enjoy a minute’s worth action porn.

Watch the teaser trailer for A Good Day to Die Hard: