One fine day in Pittsburgh, a sniper perched in a parking garage fatally shoots five people at a park before driving away. The man hauled in by police, Barr (Joseph Sikora, Safe), enacts his right to remain silent, but does scrawl on a notepad, “GET JACK REACHER.”

Who’s Jack Reacher? A former military policeman for the Army, Reacher (Tom Cruise) is an off-the-grid drifter who just wants to be left alone. He knew the accused from the service, and has no intention of helping the guy get away with murder, but does want to know just what the hell is going on.

Barr’s defense attorney, Helen (Rosamund Pike, Wrath of the Titans), convinces Reacher to be her lead investigator. She also doesn’t want to see Barr go free, but does want to see him get a fair trial. Needless to say, Reacher’s sniffing around opens up an enormous can of worms — plot twists, really.

Based on One Shot, the ninth novel in Lee Child’s best-selling thriller series, Jack Reacher didn’t get a fair shake upon release. For one, the violent pic arrived in theaters less than a month after the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre, when the nation wasn’t exactly in the mood to see a bunch of big-screen gunplay. And that’s understandable.

What’s not is Reacher fans’ outcry over the 5-foot-7 Cruise being cast as the series’ 6-foot-5 hero. Cruise conveys 100 percent of Reacher’s attitude; he’s intimidating and bone-crunching believable in the ass-kicking department. To his credit, he also plays the role far differently than Mission: Impossible‘s Ethan Hunt.

Written and directed by Christopher McQuarrie, who previously teamed with Cruise by scripting Bryan Singer’s Valkyrie, the film chalks up many positives: a truly exciting chase, dialogue that replicates Child’s rhythms to a T, an acidic wit and a real stroke of genius in casting potentially insane German director Werner Herzog (Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans) as a villain minus a few fingers because he ate them. Reacher would’ve twisted them off anyway. —Rod Lott

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Twelve True Facts about Invasion U.S.A.:

1. Inside Chuck Norris’ beard is another fist. This fist wrote the script for Invasion U.S.A.

2. In Invasion U.S.A., the USA is four square blocks of Miami.

3. Gristle Hardpecs plays a government-endorsed mercenary who collects information on his prey by driving around at night until he sees something.

4. Rostov, the lead bad guy played by professional heavy Richard Lynch (The Sword and the Sorcerer), is so terrified of Snap Kick-stache that he wakes up screaming. Lynch found motivation for his screams by remembering that he was filming Invasion U.S.A..

5. Groin Hardpull was in great physical pain during filming and had to wear a back brace, severely limiting his mobility. This is the only explanation for the movie’s marked lack of kicks and punches, instead relying solely on Groin’s charm and ability to hold a gun and point it at things.

6. The first time we see Mullet O’Smackdown, he’s bare-handedly wrangling an alligator. This is because great white sharks were out of season at the time.

7. Many film directors pay homage to other directors in their films. When he started work on Invasion U.S.A., Joseph Zito (Red Scorpion) chose to pay homage to Albert Pyun.

8. Whiskers O’Houlihan’s mullet is of such rare quality, it originally was given top billing. Only union rules prevented this from happening.

9. There is a woman in Invasion U.S.A.. She serves no purpose.

10. Grimace Scabknuckle constantly walks around with his shirt unbuttoned and torso on display. This is a completely hetero thing to do.

11. Punch Facebeard’s plan to lure Lynch into the open results in many innocent people being killed. This is never remarked upon, because Facebeard is a hero.

12. Right now, somewhere in America, there is an NRA meeting showing Invasion U.S.A. as a documentary. —Corey Redekop

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Not an obscure vehicle for the early African-American superhero of DC Comics, Black Lightning is an obscure movie about a vehicle — a super-powered car, and we would expect nothing less from producer Timur Bekmambetov, the Russian director of Wanted.

In Moscow, a poor, Peter Parker-esque student named Dima (Grigoriy Dobrygin) wishes he had the dough to snag some hot wheels so he could snag the hot girl (Ekaterina Vilkova) away from the rich classmate who downs Mentos like meth. The bad news is that the car his family gifts him for his birthday is a real clunker. The good news is that, thanks to crystals found in a soil sample from the moon or something (it doesn’t really matter), the car can fly.

It’s only during his job delivering flowers that Dima discovers this, when it suddenly goes all Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on him in order to avoid a collision. Soon, he learns how to operate it properly and becomes a crime fighter, using his rocket-boosted wheels to save a child from an apartment fire, thwart a purse thief and, hopefully, keep the greedy Kuptsov (Viktor Verzhbitskiy, Night Watch) from destroying the city with his diamond mining. We know Dima means business, because he dons a hoodie.

The more you defy gravity, the less impressive it becomes, which is to say that Black Lightning, like much of Bekmambetov’s filmography, doesn’t know when to quit. Initially, the film is a fun and spirited action-fantasy that can be enjoyed by young and old. By the time Chernaya Molniya (its Russkie title) passes the halfway point, the story has all but given up trying to keep from being overwhelmed by the effects — a valiant, but futile try.

Still, the ride is worth taking once. —Rod Lott

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After made-for-TV movie of ’74 starring Cathy Lee Crosby went straight to Nowheresville, Hollywood tried to adapt DC Comics’ Wonder Woman for the tube again, this time with Lynda Carter, thus the odd title of The New Original Wonder Woman. That’s a lot of adjectives; they forgot “bosomy.”

Set in World War II, this telefilm has stupid military stud Maj. Steve Trevor (a vacuous Lyle Waggoner, Surf II) on a one-man mission (yeah, right) to shoot down a Nazi plane headed for American skies. Following an aerial battle with the German aircraft, in which the stock footage turns to black-and-white several times and doesn’t seem to care, the two opposing pilots must abandon their planes and parachute to safety. Steve is shot twice by the Nazi, who gets his comeuppance by landing in the jaws of shark stock footage.

Unconscious and adrift on the uncharted Paradise Island, Steve is rescued by two of its all-female inhabitants, including Princess Diana (Carter, Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw). Although they’ve never seen a male, the ladies appear to spend an hour on their hair and makeup each morning anyway, and run around in flimsy nighties.

Diana wishes to escort Steve back to D.C., under the protests of her queen mother (Cloris Leachman, Young Frankenstein) and her minions (one of whom is Grease‘s Fannie Flagg, lending a whole new theory as to why there are no men on the isle). Demonstrating incredible athletic prowess, however, Diana eventually wins the honor of flying the war hero back to his country via her invisible jet.

The United States goes ga-ga for this honey in the skimpy costume, and a talent agent (Red Buttons, The Poseidon Adventure) taps her to do a stage show wherein she deflects bullets using her bracelets. Since Steve is still holed up in the hospital, she agrees. And after that, she saves the world from the threat of Hitler. The end.

Wonder Woman is played as incredible camp, but apparently no one told Carter, and that’s for the better. Just when you thought the telefilm would collapse under its own weight of has-been stars, Henry Gibson and Stella Stevens show up, too.

Perhaps the best thing about it is its opening credits sequence, rendered via Pop Art animation, backed by that atrocious quasi-rock theme song (“In your satin tights / Fighting for your rights”). Do lasso this one into your viewing schedule soon. —Rod Lott

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In the space of three films, Luc Besson proved himself a talented director of immensely entertaining genre films. La Femme Nikita is an action classic; Léon: The Professional is pure awesome; and The Fifth Element is gorgeous, magnificently goofy sci-fi.

So when did he become cinema’s equivalent to James Patterson?

That’s not exactly fair; Besson’s works are usually brainless, but watchable, while Patterson’s books (his and those he “shares” with other authors) are nigh unreadable. But Besson has taken a page from Patterson and more or less retired from directing and taken up producing scripts (usually his) that are slapdash at best, relying almost solely on a director’s prowess and the charm of the actors (see: Lockout, Taken, The Transporter, District B13, etc.).

Another is Colombiana, a spiritual sequel to Léon, following a young girl’s rise from innocent to trained assassin as she methodically hunts down her parents’ killers. But where Léon benefitted from Jean Reno’s and Natalie Portman’s charismatic performances and Besson’s verve behind the camera, Colombiana gives us Zoë Saldana (2010’s Star Trek reboot) and director Oliver Megaton (Transporter 3), a man with a Transformer name and an inability to keep the camera still.

In the best action films, we see the stunt. District B13 is entirely stupid, yet nonetheless one of the genre’s best of late, its director understanding that his parkour-trained actors are best served simply by pointing the camera on them and letting them do their thing (see also [seriously, see it]: Gareth Evans’ The Raid: Redemption). Megaton also puts parkour into some chase scenes, but keeps cutting to different angles, so that we never actually get a sense of the physicality. Hell, you edit me like that, I look like an Olympic gymnast (if you knew me, you’d know why this is absurd).

It all boils down to gunplay and explosions, keeping the viewer’s eye distracted and a few great character actors employed. You could do worse, but you can do way better.

A note on Saldana: We need more female action heroes, and she seems an actual talent, selling the emotional scenes far better than the script deserves. But for the love of all that’s holy, someone get her a protein bar. Can we please stop putting firearms in the hands of people who weigh less than the guns they carry? It’s distracting and physically ridiculous (see also: Angelina Jolie). —Corey Redekop

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