Angie Errigo

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

There have been many Draculas. But the one against which all others are measured is Bela Lugosi. Tod Browning's 1931 film is stagey and creaky, but it also has wonderful, unforgettable moments.

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.

For another, this film is that still shamefully rare pleasure, an absorbing ensemble piece in which a fine group of actors get to show their class and range, playing a black American family who are prosperous, cultured and complex.

Remains hilarious throughout.

DJ Audrey Wells' crafty screenplay brims with truths about the sexes, providing great lines for Garofalo, and great business for Thurman's confused waif, and cranks the feelgood factor up so high it's almost off the scale.

The only phoney note, ironically, comes from Miller's gaffe of enlisting retired Yorkshire biochemist Don Suddaby, extractor of the said oil, for a self-conscious appearance as himself. That aside, this is exhausting, intelligent and undeniably moving .

Gauged on a count of wit or originality this doesn't even register.

The dazzling ensemble perfectly captures every nuance in one of the finest acting showcases you could hope for.

This is a startlingly superior piece of craftsmanship, with the flavour of life and richness of the script conveyed via uniformly wonderful performances. Above all, though, it's Lee's foodie masterstrokes, as Chu prepares his elaborate menus, that make the film so mouth-wateringly unforgettable.

It's a tale told with considerable warmth and humour, some spiffing explosions and a multiple-hanky act of self-sacrifice to round things off.

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

Falling on the meaty, potential role of a lifetime like a ravenous lion, erstwhile comedian Jamie Foxx, so good in "Collateral," is just wonderful as the eponymous star.

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

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

Harry Palmer, charismatic but grounded in reality, is the perfect popular bridge between the spectacular escapades of Bond and the cold, harsh milieu of Deighton's embittered, betrayed spies.

Offbeat and downbeat, it’s a film full of thoughtful stillness, powerful moods, reflective internal struggles and shattering, lonely self-realisation, suggesting more critical kudos than commercial impact.

Trying so hard to recreate the stylish spy comedies of the 60's, Turner and Quaid pose unconvincingly as the couple in New Orleans when their maternity leave is cut short. Sadly they the required chemistry and their banter falls decidedly flat. The only redeeming feature is the support of Stanley Tucci.

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.

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

Fortunately, the fabulous songs, performed by scads of contemporary artists, provide some relief in an overlong, overdone portrait.

Although there are some great moments (one for Nicholson recalling the toast scene of "Five Easy Pieces"), Penn's intentions lose their way.

As he did with "The English Patient," Minghella has reshaped the novel’s structure, zeroed in on what matters cinematically and dramatically upped the emotional stakes.

Ryan and Broderick, while individually first-rate, don't combine as sexily as they ought, making the inevitable outcome a little too pat in an otherwise genre-bucking affair.

Along with the psychological intrigue there is romance and wit. And fans will enjoy Hitch's most amusing trademark cameo: photographed as before and after silhouettes in a newspaper ad for diet product Reduco.

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

Sadly Lewis lite and not without flaws but this is as Burtonesque as one could wish for, a real treat for fans of his twisted imagination and great British character actors.

Marvelous supporting performances from scene-stealing Kirby, Maximilian Schell, Paul Benedict as the nutty professor and Frank Whaley as Broderick's quiff-coiffed room mate pile on the pleasures, but the sight of Marlon Brando on ice skates is surely the absolute treat in a film well worth rooting for.

A thoroughly pleasing family film with fine performances and honest, affecting real situations mixed with joyful adventure.

What sounded like a bad idea before it started shooting, proves such an atrocity that it makes her last effort, The Beverly Hillbillies, look almost Oscar-worthy.

Not for anyone with a sensitive gag reflex. Joshua Marston provides a harrowing depiction of drug- muling for dummies. The raw, revolting, dangerous details of such an undertaking are graphic.

Undermined by a plot that doesn’t make sense and plays like three-and-a-half genre movies fighting for screentime in one overlong one.

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.

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

While not wishing to be facetious about women and children held against their will in any country, this tearjerker is strictly TV movie for a wet Wednesday stuff.

Vintage Lee visual flourishes and a couple of chucklesome fantasies spoofing a 70s sitcom and blaxploitation flicks make this more watchable than the infuriatingly pointless content warrants.

If you can overlook the smarm and the historical airbrushing there's much to enjoy here.

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

Unapologetically preposterous, but it is a (very sweet) fairy tale and Highmore is captivating.

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

Hope may float, but this bore flounders beyond salvaging.

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

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.

The three lead characters end the film as isolated as they began it. As with the plot, there isn't quite enough in the throwaway humour to hold them together.

It’s always a good story, this time told more creepily than usual. Good, but not as good as The Muppets’ Christmas Carol, Scrooged, Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol or some great, classic live action classic versions.

We've seen it all a million times before, but there are abundant (foul-mouthed) funnies, and debut director Michael Bay shows his commercials expertise propelling the noisy nonsense into a frantically slick and thoroughly enjoyable extravaganza.

Simply terrific, enormously watchable and an absolute must for all Eastwood fans. Gotta say it: this film will make your day.

The script is weak and obvious and the direction disappointingly unimaginative. But stars are stars, and the old boys are terrific - enough to make this a funny and sometimes moving buddy picture.

A little muddled and derivative but what do we expect, really?

It's easy to dismiss Branagh's Shakespeare productions as nothing new, but before he went on to more heavy duty fare such as Hamlet, he made this bright, accessible romantic comedy which still stands out as one of his greater directorial efforts. The cast are a joy to watch, while the beautiful location matches the romantic mood.

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.

Cute, clean, camp fun, full of sunshine and toe tappers. Guaranteed to put grins on tweenies who are in to High School Musical, grans with a pair of platforms still at the back of the wardrobe, and a lot of people in between tone.

Comedy doesn't come much more classic. If you haven't seen it, it's about time you did.

That this is a patchwork quilt of a screenplay (written by five credited writers) is apparent in its use of little bits of this and little bits of that. Did none of them notice, looking at the big picture, that it's unbelievable?

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.

A mysterious army of enemies, with no suggested motive and, what's worse, they're your friendly garden crows. Clamps itself to your recollection and doesn't let go.

A typical 90's comedy featuring staples Richard Dreyfuss and Emilio Estevez who re-hash their 'cheeky cops' schtick from the first picture and are now joined by O'Donnell who tries to inject more humour allowing us to forgive the lack of an engaging story. Sadly this is where all three fail.

Relatively speaking it's nonsense, but very cute.

A very neatly plotted blend of elaborate heist and twisting thriller, peppered with amusing gags and smart one-liners for its top class ensemble.

Wang never loses the pieces, directing with clarity, force and evident affection, building a multi-plotted, multi-layered collection of intimate individual stories into a sweeping, emotional mosaic of life. Wonderful.

Deliciously sick and delightfully cast.

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

What lifts this at key moments is the outstanding Phoenix's simpatico performance and we can add to the credit side happy casting that for once has assembled actresses and actors who really do resemble each other and present plausible siblings.

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.

Despite some nifty Japanese style tricks and ghostly illusions this isn't scary. It's muddled, same-old mayhem, just with a more international cast going crazy.

An enchanting story played out by a great female cast, particularly Cavazos as the poor Tita, and unique visuals from Arau. With equal parts melodrama, comedy, tragedy and cookery, Like Water For Chocolate adapts well from script to screen, unlike most Hollywood attempts.

Like a late ’60s satire played embarrassingly seriously.

While it may not be perfect on a technical level, dramatically it’s a blow-your-socks-off triumph. Be moved. Very, very moved.

Boring and Silly, Ronin is a better example of Frankenheimer's direction.

Coming from a novice director, the film is not as impressive as "Sense And Sensibility", but as a light-hearted and energetic comedy of who-loves-who? and small upsets, this works well - and it boasts Paltrow's star-making turn.

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.

It’s absolute nonsense, of course, but does quite nicely as knockabout Friday night fun. We can smell a sequel if Travolta can be bothered.

Cards on the table: rock operas pretty much suck except for "Tommy."

Reasonably gripping.

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

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

Altogether, this is as fine a piece of craftsmanship as one could expect of Eastwood, with Hackman and I Freeman's performances standing out, and given the sombre tone there are entertaining surprises and even some good laughs to be had.

Meat and potatoes teen drama.

Very amusing fun.

Sharp, very funny, surprisingly moving and rejoicing in great work from the entire cast, this sparkling little gem takes the family road movie to unhoped-for heights of hilarity and humanity.

A cracking conspiracy thriller that's well-cast, slyly satirical and -- as a solid, glossy, contemporised remix of a classic -- rings enough creepy changes to surprise.

Made more than two years ago, this is nowhere near as well thought out as its predecessor ["Boyz N The Hood,"] and is far more strained in making its point.

Rigorous adaptation of the notoriously "difficult" play.

Far-out touches and liberal application of metaphor are compensated for by intensity and two mesmerising performances.

Be warned - Damon isn't in this one.

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

There may not be a laugh every minute, but there are enough to satisfy most devotees of the relentlessly silly, tasteless school of parody.

Key to its success - along with its vivid characters and brilliant performances - is the snappy pace throughout. Non-stop gags, invention, twists and comic incident flow, as Joe and Jerry - sexy Curtis and screamingly funny Lemmon - elude mob boss George Raft by wriggling into an all-girl jazz band, with Josephine and Daphne’s legendary drag act taking in amorous adventures, seductive deceptions and madcap pursuits.

There is scarcely a laugh to be had unless you are six years old or immoderately fond of such wheezes as depositing dog poop on a white carpet.

All along, of course, we are supposed to realise they're made for each other, except that that's a little hard to swallow when there's so little chemistry between them.

Not Lee's finest but intriguing nonetheless.

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

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.

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

It wouldn’t be like Martin Scorsese to pick up the tabs on a simple sequel, and this glossy, hard-spoken pool drama, a follow-on from The Hustler, never aligns to the simple organising principle of repeat value.

It tootles along being cute and fluffy like a twentysomethings' version of Sabrina The Teenage Witch, but to further its notions of sisterhood and the power of women, it also takes a spin through Thelma And Louise territory, then revisits The Exorcist to up the supernatural content. It's enough to make your head spin.

It's all totally farfetched and skates imperturbably over several questions of logic that will spring unbidden to the most accepting mind. But it's entertaining, inconsequential fun.

It's like "The Bridges Of Madison County" with more shouting, only not nearly as good. No surprises whatsoever, but nice scenery, attractive stars and another credible, affecting performance from Lane that hoiks it up an extra star.