A good year for women on film, as exemplified in new releases The Eyes of My Mother, Miss Sloane, and more
Matthew Lickona 5 p.m., Dec. 9
A match between Rocky Balboa and the Raging Bull would have set box offices ablaze were it 1983, but back then, Robert “The Greatest Actor of His Generation” De Niro was too big to spar with a cauliflower-eared Rambonehead like Sylvester Stallone. With three decades and countless flops under their tarnished championship belts, there’s no time like the present to cash in on nostalgia. Surprisingly, Stallone and De Niro have a field day spreading their self-deprecating cheer, with the intentional yucks far outweighing the accidental snickers. In the Burgess Meredith role of Stallone’s trainer, supreme being Alan Arkin is given plenty of stuff to strut, this time from the comfort of a personal mobility vehicle. It's laughter, guaranteed, every time he opens his mouth. Two major setbacks: the profanity-inhibiting PG-13 rating (O for a “fuck”) and the kid who plays De Niro’s vexatious grandson, who deserves a fate worse than Clubber Lang. 2013.