Angie Errigo

There’s beautiful visual and verbal comedy, and the film has the creative spontaneity of a dream, foreshadowing Spirited Away (it influenced Miyazaki). However, the lack of momentum and focus may end up boring children, while the English dub actors sound a little stilted.

A bold but ultimately doomed effort that will irritate all but cultists of the bizarre and the most rabid fans of Mr. Cage.

It's just like a spectacularly excessive and melodramatically daft Cantonese crime opus, but in English, with a thumpingly trendy soundtrack.

Not Lee's finest but intriguing nonetheless.

This is actually better than it may sound, though rather less charming than it would like to, and needs to be.

As frustrating as it is rewarding.

Despite superb performances by Kathy Bates and Jennifer Jason Leigh, a limp, almost TV movie trite, climax never comes near delivering the shocks it should. A shame, as what could have been superb, is merely average.

An unsparing look at the winter of life, salted with humour and emotion.

Terrific effects and considerable charm, but, once again, you can't help wishing the filmmakers had been bolder with the adaptation.

Formulaic but uplifting, positive and accessible. Fairly graphic sex is handled as tastefully as one is ever likely to see in a crowdpleaser.

Like Saudi Arabia's "Wadjda," Burshtein's film is a groundbreaking first - the first Israeli film to be directed by a woman - and although it lacks a little of the emotional heft of Haifaa al-Mansour's work, it's a well acted and delicately told tale.

We're marking time before the final battle between Good and Evil, with the promised darkness sitting somewhat clumsily with teen romance and humour.

Arguably worse than its sadistic absurdity is the depressing, limited scope.

Although its politics may be shaky, this comedy still works thank to the charm of Kline and an excellent supporting cast. But it's more likely to provide warm, fuzzy smiles than belly laughs.

Funny, agreeable and thoroughly enjoyable, if a little bit too neat and fortuitous in sorting out its entangled strands.

Not one of Altman’s masterpieces, but aficionados will find pleasures in a bittersweet swansong from the grand old man.

There's a desperately inevitable, powerfully tragic last reel, but getting there is absolute torture.

A solid, child-friendly work which will keep little ones content, if not mesmerised.

With a great set designed by an Oscar winner as well as a cast that includes Maggie Smith and of course, based on a children's favourite, it's hard to see where this could go wrong. It does entertain, but it manages to hold back on the sentimentality that you're left with nothing at all.

Fine performances -- notably from Phoenix -- still don't make this an easy sell. But it is atmospheric, accomplished and intense.

Natalie Wood is stunning and the drama is full of passion but this suffers a little from 60s hollywood style.

Dramatic disappointment aside, there is a feel for the unglamorous, demanding lives of the real dancers.

This is brutal, gory, at times downright sickening stuff, and somewhat twisted types are likely to laugh like a drain.

Minus delightful stars, this would be laboured indeed. Thanks to them, it scrapes along as modestly appealing fluff.

Madonna knocks herself out and deserves cheers for the emotional range and humanity with which she sings in Alan Parker's spectacular film. But whether you think the movie is great or grisly, rests in large part on your palate for Andrew Lloyd Webber's music.

If it weren't so darned "sincere" this would be an unmitigated bird-brained delight, but it undoubtedly remains a genial crowd pleaser.

Unfortunately, left alone on the big screen, distinctly thin characterisation and a plot that looks like a distended television episode, let the new crew down slightly but there are still enough classic moments to keep fans happy.

C'mon, it's Fred and Bing! Depending on your disposition, you can take that as a recommendation or a warning.

Happily, Jamie Lee Curtis gurning through a guitar solo (she is Lady Spinal Tap, after all) while her floundering ‘mother’ mimes on stage is amusing.

Reygadas' big ideas translate with mixed results.

Those who find men in feathers inherently divine will have a high old time here, and there are enough hilarious cinematic moments for the gob-smacked rest.

Director Sullivan lingers too long in every photogenic location and drags out every incident as if he's making six episodes of a not very sparkling serial.

Yippee-ki-yay! Willis still has the goods.

The chemical combustion just isn't there between Julia and Clive, and you can't help wondering if Gilroy wrote this with George Clooney in mind. Still, a glamorous, diverting escapade that over-30s in particular can enjoy.

Handsomely crafted, with meticulous performances, yet it plays out drily and in monotone.

There are brilliant, bewitching moments allied to hilarious and touching ones. Just not enough of them in what veers, at length, between the clever, the terrifying and the bit tiring.

Unnervingly, it is both hilariously funny and quite disturbing, with Allen's neuroses and fixations manifested in some shocking ugliness and intimately personal revelations we'd rather not have seen confirmed.

Entertaining Sunday afternoon stuff.

The cute puppy almost steals the show but Hardy is ace and quite the watchable chameleon in his surprising switch from lovable dumb ox to cannier-than-we-thought.

It starts off well enough but slowly sinks under the leaden weight of its worthiness.

Cute and sweet, and if it lacks great wit or magic, at least it has the courage to remain faithful to the gentle sadness and 'realism' of the original material.

We expect oddball wit of a higher calibre from Guest and co., although their inherent, zany likeability means plenty of laughs.

Eat well beforehand or you’ll be in tummy-rumbling, tongue-hanging-out agony as the merry band cook their way across America. Good fun and happy, filling fare.

While this doesn't add up to much more than 'It's good to be rich and have friends', it's entertaining, with some choice performances and the laugh-out-loud quotient of a good sketch show.

Despite Lumet's home-spun pincer movement on the espionage/conspiracy genres, cliché still sneaks up and nips the film into submission.

Measured performances from the seasoned cast balance out a script that errs towards the melodramatic. Hours sweating over those instruments pay dividends too.

Entertaining while you're watching it but, as deceptive as a party's election promises, there's less to it than meets the eye.

A surprisingly sweet romantic comedy debut from Ben Stiller.

Despite some smart, brittle dialogue and the classy cast, this seldom rises above the routine and is basically a bittired and terribly 60's.

An, at-times, marvellous muddle of high farce and low-brow chuckles.

Compelling performances and some stand-out scenes but this lacks the cohesive language of "Elephant," for example.

The ambitious, initially intriguing Dead Again fails so spectacularly it may well become the fetish of a camp cult.

In some quarters this will doubtless be hailed as "gritty" and "realistic". Movies about junkies just aren't much fun, however, and to be really powerful or tragic they need to be a lot less hack­neyed and directed with more inspira­tion than this.

Relatively speaking it's nonsense, but very cute.

While the supporting actors are engaging, the turgid screenplay lets the whole thing down.

Those who found, say, Internal Affairs, a "stylish" affair will be able to say the same of this, only it's more so. The more squeamish will prefer to take Manhattan Woody Allen style.

For all its weaker aspects, it is to be recommended as a denunciation of intolerence made with understanding, compassion, and some humour.

It delivers in fits and starts but mostly baffles.

The jokes start wearing thin, and most of the noisy characters become rather tedious well before the rag-bag of thesps finally pitch up on Broadway.

Cringe-making fun for survivors of the '70s. For the younger majority: a familiar rise and fall of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll enlivened by the gender reversal and performances.

At moments hilarious and others touching, it's a sweet, slight affair, more pretty pageant than pithy biographical drama. Expect awards nominations to stack up for Williams and Branagh.

His unique vision as a committed artist and unrepentantly crude joker makes this sweet, disarming, intelligent fun.

Beautifully presented but over-long and best appreciated if you already have an idea of van Gogh's life and work.

The pace drags terribly, however, and the period detail is distractingly off in small ways that become annoying. Thankfully, though, things perk up with a bravura finale, when Merrill finally takes the witness stand before the dreaded inquisitors.

One of those rare things...a sequel that's funnier and more successful.

If not a star-making turn, Mbatha-Raw's tough, tender performances should give her plenty of opportunities in sharper fare.

Okay for those who dote on ‘classics illustrated’ in the Merchant Ivory line, but not as fluid as all that.

The result never comes close to being hilarious, merely cute in the corniest way. That it is more of a pleasure than it deserves, is down to the light, bright leads. Cage and Fonda are both charming, though he’s particularly endearing in his uncharacteristic but welcome turn as a soft-hearted, irresistable darling. The slightness is a disappointment, but the concoction is still very sweet indeed.

Philip Seymour Hoffman puts his oar in with a tender, thoughtful adaption of Robert Glaudini's stage play. A little too measured to deliver an emotional punch, it's nevertheless beautifully acted and at times rather lovely.

Occasionally irritating farce but inventive and boasting an endearing as well as laugh-out-loud performance from Murphy in and out of fat suit.

One comes out of this fragmentary documentary about the King Of Cool’s passion for motor racing liking him much less than one did going in.

Handsomely done but short on the atmosphere and passion of a genre classic.

While Landau, Aiello and a brief appearance by Christopher Walken do perk things up, it's a tediously indulgent, redundant work.

Exciting in parts, Meryl Streep and Kevin Bacon doing their best, but arc of suspense doesn't quite bring you to the edge of your seats.

Pitched awkwardly -- neither for children nor cool young adults -- it's very sweet, very nice and just the thing for a girlie matinée with mum and nan.

Odd-couple chemistry and a dark underbelly keep this Danish noir adaptation compelling.

Val Kilmer is extraordinary as Morrison, holding the centre with a demonic charisma, while Stone recreates the late '60s milieu with vibrant versimilitude.

If you're looking for sophisticated wit keep going, but Major League is pleasant, undemanding fun and the most likely of the baseball movies to hit over here. You don't need to know what they're doing on the field, there are some amusing supporting performances, and everybody likes to see losers make a dream come true.

Could have been a little more darkly comic in places but the performances are superb.

It is a rare feat to make a sequel better than its predecessor but here Sonnenfeld manages to do just that. With such a strong adult cast, it comes as a surprise when the children steal the show. With such dry and morbid humour, it feels that at times he was filming more for the parental viewers than the childrens.

Like a late ’60s satire played embarrassingly seriously.

Determinedly quirky and cool, arresting and ultimately too baffling to be satisfying, although Penn is priceless. Cultdom beckons.

Quite a nice little relationship comedy-drama, but essentially for an audience of what the French charmingly call ‘women of a certain age’. Totally not the Superbad set, then.

Despite its admirable strengths and the fact of it being a true story, there is somehow a failure to completely connect with the fierce boy, giving his unhappy and alienating youth an unfortunate air of unreality.

Remote, murky and interminable.

It's good to know that the widely liked but underused Andy Garcia has here a juicy dramatic role he can get his chops into.

Separately the characters are annoying; together it’s unnervingly like watching one actress playing twins.

Trouble is, James Ivory just doesn't do sleaze. The tawdry milieu of taxi dancers, pleasure-seekers and spies rings hollow.

Be warned - Damon isn't in this one.

Cheesy? Certainly. But strong performances and a heart-warming storyline make this a winner.

It’s vivid, substantial and works hard to be worthy, but as it ticks off the milestones of a monumental life it flickers more often than it really catches fire.

Good fun, and though it breathes hard in the second half, the ensemble has charisma to spare.

There is nothing reprehensible about Palmetto; it simply falls short of conviction because you're too aware you've seen it all a hundred times before.

Missing the punchy plotting of the Coens thriller it resembles, the early chuckles don't quite translate into a satisfying whole.

Exceptional turns by Mélusine Mayance and the ever-excellent Kristin Scott Thomas illuminate a tense and compelling story. The contrived modern-day framing works less well.

Despite the schmaltz this reviewer lapped it up, not least for the engaging teens, including Alicia Witt, and the spectacle of Dreyfuss strutting his wily stuff to Louie, Louie.

Sound tricky? It is, and all a little too cutely so, the switches back and forth between realities ever more contrived and eventually tiresome, prompting giggles of relief as the storylines painfully draw towards a soap operatic convergence.

The tennis itself is ridiculously far-fetched, and yet this may still be the best tennis movie ever made.