Angie Errigo

Sir Richard Attenborough's long-in-the-making account of the life of Sir Charles Chaplin is a film you desperately want to like, but it emerges as a big, shiny, old-fashioned biopic that ultimately fails either to illuminate the genius of its subject or to excite as a story.

Apart from the odd titter, this is a sound formula suspense movie with spiffy set piece thrills, directed with assurance by Dead Calm's Philip Noyce and attractively played by the plausibly anxious principals.

This slight, modestly sweet and mildly charming affair squarely aimed at the older cinemagoer is just the bill for those seniors’ matinées where the ticket comes with a cuppa and a biscuit.

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

We’re all for true, inspirational stories of courage in defiance of evil. But sheesh, this World War II drama is at least as irritating as it is uplifting.

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

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.

A tasteless concoction - one gay character is particularly misjudged - that's instantly forgettable.

Unashamedly romantic and achieved with a beautifully subtle, old-fashioned elegance, it’s a graceful coming-of-age tale ripe for awards.

There is delight and distress in equal measure: for his talent, mischief, waywardness, for the disillusionment and tragedy of his later years. Unique.

Among the excellent principals, top-billed Turturro enlivens things wonderfully, but the real star, Buy, is magnificent.

Inspired, innovative, stunning, with unforgettable performances and images, this is up there with the great screen Shakespeares. The playwright surely would be thrilled with it in its full-blooded vigour.

Tougher than a box of nails, this is a brassy revenge thriller that refuses to pull its punches.

This slight, lightly charming comic adventure is most obviously appealing for the "Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" set — though Bryson himself was in his forties when he made his journey.

Holly Hunter goes toe-to-toe nicely with the superbly understated Al Pacino loner obsessed with a long-lost love — one of his most rewarding outings in a very long time.

It’s genial, with appealing stars and fair giggles.

The bastard offspring of a charmless romcom and a toothless political satire.

A Hugely, irresistibly enjoyable, with star chemistry to spare, genuine laughs and tears, and the bonus of apt Lennon songs on the soundtrack.

Extremely well done and well acted, it’s an attractive, appealing, involving adaptation, just not as iconic as the ’60s film.

Lovely, engaging performances keep the film’s heart beating in a sweet if sometimes listless search for Eden.

Elevated from nice to beautifully memorable by wonderful performances and thoughtful direction of perfect small moments.

Stylish, sophisticated, simmering crime and character drama with Shakespearean dimension and bravura performances. Who knew heating oil could be a sexy subject?

Handsome, well-mounted but dull, dull, dull.

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.

Against the odds, perhaps, but part three injects a tiring franchise with new life and some surprisingly dark jokes. Some fun cameos and another winning Dan Stevens turn also add much needed unpredictability to the miniature goings-on.

The word 'icon' is overused but as this charming Muhammad Ali portrait shows, occasionally it's utterly warranted.

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.

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.

With the feel of prestige telly, it's nicely done, sweet and moving.

Commercially it looks a disaster. Artistically, if very far from a triumph, it’s interesting, almost held together by its charismatic stars.

A clear winner that makes you laugh, cry, and generally want to party and parade like it’s 1984.

A curious mix of Britpop music cues and moppet-bait storytelling makes for a diverting, if derivative kids' animation.

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

Very funny underdog comedy that’s genuinely heartwarming and full of charm.

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.

Conventional to an almost eye-watering degree, this could have used a little more effort to subvert the genre - and a little more Terence Stamp.

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

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

A superior directorial debut for a smart, literate screenwriter delivers both first-class character drama and edge-of-your-seat suspense.

Not quite Four Weddings-funny but always entertaining and endearing in equal measure.

Political chicanery and psychological mystery entwine with some stunning underwater sequences but don’t gel entirely satisfactorily.

A very unfocused, sporadically funny film, lifted by its (predictable) visual splendour.

A crowdpleaser that also tells an important story about showbiz, it’s fab. You’ll come out singing.

As elegant as the man's clothes, this handsome biopic traces 20 incident-filled years in the life of the designer.

Trivialising despair, it’s a depressing waste of a major cast, and an early bid for mess of the year.

Dedicated to Morris’ champion, Roger Ebert, who would be proud, this is a provocative, revelatory and disturbing film.

A stirring, lushly-constructed celebration of youthful spirit.

One for lovers of ravishing craft, although the elusive emotional engagement is frustrating.

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.

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.

A strangely drab adaptation of Diderot's much racier novel.

More terrible and tacky than one could have imagined, it will soon be forgotten and consigned to the True Movies channel to play alongside television movies about Karen Carpenter, Jayne Mansfield and Jackie Kennedy.

A Pixney misfire.

Talk about a pleasant surprise! Real storytelling, well thought-out and beautifully, at times insanely, executed, with excitement, laughs and fun to make you feel seven years old again.

A slow burner; intense, utterly engrossing and believable.

Reygadas' big ideas translate with mixed results.

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

A superb Kidman takes off the handbrake, and most everything else, in Daniels' southern-fried follow-up to "Precious." Watch it with "Killer Joe" for the ultimate sweaty, twisted double-bill.

There's lo-fi charm in the musical numbers and heartfelt turns from the young cast but the story drifts along without offering much that we haven't seen before.

Ambitious but very tedious and talkatively hackneyed, redeemed just a smidge by the money shots of a swarm of extras on horseback sweeping across the sands.

Disappointing given the talent and situation, dull as ditchwater and historically suspect, another "The King's Speech" it definitely is not. Nice costumes, though.

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

Particularly disappointing given the names involved, it's only mildly amusing at best, and more often downright tedious.

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

Very sweet, very funny, really quite touching and exquisitely handmade, by a film lover with humour and a heart, for a like-minded audience.

Very funny, it's also penetrating on the ravages of time on love and marriage and sweetly touching, but with abundantly incongruous randy content to heartily amuse.

It's just too tempting to dismiss it as extremely long and incredibly disappointing. It's challenging, divisive and has moments of beauty but leaves you cold.

Smart, honest, sickeningly funny and supremely well judged in the writing, direction and acting.

Exciting, ironic, with assured direction, accomplished performances and the tension of topical themes, this is Shakespeare as relevant as you like it.

Utterly absorbing, extremely smart and - considering this is a sad, shabby, drably grey-green world of obsessives, misfits, misdirection, disillusionment, self-delusion and treachery - quite beautifully executed.

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.

Terrific. Michael Shannon delivers a fractured everyman who'll stay with you long after the final frame.

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.

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

Gentle, likable and profoundly touching, it makes you want to dig out the hiking boots and make the same journey.

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.

A richer plot, life lessons and loving Chinese cultural references rendered by turns sweet, scary and charming, with yet more fantastical kung fu, make this an engaging winner. Stunning visuals make it real art as well.

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

Familiar but enjoyable. Not being funny, the elephant (Rosie, played by nine-foot enchantress Tai) is the real star as the most moving and only joyful presence in sight.

Terrific: tough, exciting, funny, gorgeous and bewitchingly acted, this is darn close to perfection.

Okay, but it lacks conviction.

Another "Hangover" was too much to hope for, especially as this was scripted by committee. It's a bit funny but also quite a bit nasty.

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

Think The Archers with a sprinkling of trendier folk and a lot more shagging. Very intelligently funny, with stellar performances.

A film that is entertaining but not seriously absorbing.

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

Depp puts in a reliable performance as the put-upon son who finds solace in the company of waitress, Juliette Lewis. All three deliver memorable performances along with a strong supporting cast.

My Dog Skip for people in mid-life crises, it?s too talky and trouble-laden for tykes but will doubtless prove as critic-proof to dog-lovers and the stars? fans as it did in the US.

Apart from a couple of nice touches - like a faked orgasm scene that's almost as off the wall as the one in When Harry Met Sally - mark this firmly in 'Should Have Been Better'.

It's that smile playing on Rosemary's lips, suggesting that her maternal instinct and the conspirators' hold on this vapid baby doll have prevailed, that provides the biggest chill.

A stand-out romantic fantasy and surefire hit of Ghost-ly proportions. But all you cynical and smart-arsed brethren, beware: this is definitely not for you.

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

Outdated and predictable revenge saga.

These episodic adventures are a joy to watch and although not all of them are as memorable as each other, each has an entertaining quality that means the film as a whole will stick with you for a long time. Feore is excellent as the pianist, even though you never actually see him play.

Devoted Trekkers will have to see it to keep abreast of the ships’ logs, but Saturday night at the flicks fun-seekers are apt to concur this one only fires on stun.

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

An over-strung last act aside, this is funny, brilliant and sickening all at the same time.

Sadly the plot leaves a lot to be desired with major flaws never far away. The in-jokes are amusing but their novelty soon begins to wear thin.

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

Two absolutely riveting performances and a smart reversal of the usual male-female stalker scenario leave behind a nasty taste and an unforgettable cinema experience.

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.

Damn, damn funny.

Remote, murky and interminable.

If Fosse's film fails to capture the man or his art completely, it remains a damn good place to start.

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

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.

Lyne's efforts to be both passionate and artistic are generally successful, although a few sex scenes are disturbing and arguably close to salacious.

Cute, cute, cute. No bouquets for originality, but it pushes all the buttons of this mini-genre, and Heigl and Marsden ring dem bells.

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

Wow! It may not be art or good taste, but throbbing melodrama doesn't come with more conviction. Even to those usually turned off by the tough Crawford, Mildred is compelling.

It's a mostly winning combination of sassy humour and sentiment, enlivened by some fun "newsreel" recreations that catch the period flavour of a sport adopting showbiz tactics - flirty-skirted uniforms, cheesecake stunts and skin-scraping do-or-die game plays - to attract the crowds.

Of sentiment there is too much and the final sequence when the white men inevitably rear their heads and raise their rifles so fraught with tears and peril as to be exhaustingly melodramatic.

It was Roman Polanski's genius, however, that made the film not merely an intelligent and intricate narrative but a great, disturbing vision.

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.

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

A superior, haunting thriller of abduction, deception and ethical dilemma with a sobering ending - a moral quandary that demands strong debate outside the cinema.

Sleepwalkers, Steven King's first original screenplay, is horror filmmaking by numbers. It has monster fiends, a few swooshing tracking shots, many a touch lifted from every self-respecting vampire movie ever made, and several weak but intentional laughs to indicate that no one here is taking the thing too seriously.

The performances transform this otherwise orthodox cat-and-mouse movie into a gripping experience.

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.

It has grown a little thin with age, especially Gere’s yuppie baiting speeches, but there’s a hardness here, an aversion to the dumb action thrills of the genre, that keeps it respectably high up the scale.

Disappointingly dull given the explosive subject matter, this at least attempts to get a message into the mainstream. An extra star for effort rather than execution.

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

Adorable. Ad-or-able. It will melt even the coldest heart.

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

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.

The sum of the parts is a cautiously optimistic view of love's power to re-shape lives, propounded with considerable appeal.

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.

Another great, landmark American film of the '70s.

Not as divine as Ang Lee's "Sense and Sensibility," but engagingly comparable to the Gwyneth Paltrow-starring Emma and vastly superior to Mansfield Park.

William H. Macy is a scream as the composite radio announcer whose hyperbolic racetrack reports are not only hilarious, but illustrate the impact of radio in creating a mass culture and how it was instrumental in making sporting events a nationwide obsession.

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

Despite its hopeless predictability, this is one of those preposterous and sweet-natured family frolics that you find yourself enjoying in spite of yourself. Check your critical faculties in at the door and get stuck in.

Tedious Western, that's a disappointment given the talent involved.

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.

Its faults - sketchy narrative, overblown abstraction - are counterbalanced by its gripping engagement between man and machine, and its rhapsodic wonder at heaven and earth and the infinite beyond.

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

Swank’s moving performance, the period dressing and beautiful planes all appeal, but dramatically it doesn’t really soar.

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.

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

Crude, patronising and mawkish, but rescued by excellent performances, beautiful landscape photography, and hard-to-argue-with themes of natural justice, delivered with a punch.

This comedy holds few surprises, bar the realisation that Hal is Zora's father. After that it's dysfunctional family comedy all the way. But this proves to be no bad thing. Goldberg and Danson handle the material with their usual panache, while a young Smith gives a steady post-Fresh Prince supporting role.

Much more fun than its stuffy "Greatest Film Ever Made" tag suggests, with a literate script, stylish direction, a great song and cinema's most romantic couple in Bogie and Bergman.

A gripping modern morality tale with a credible cast and a compelling premise. The film is heavy on self examination and will make you think: what would you do?

As with Platoon, Stone captures the horrific essence of an environment and transfers it to us without the need for prior knowledge. Dazzling filmmaking.

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.

Handsomely done and beautifully acted, just slightly wanting in a screenplay that leaves questions unanswered about what's behind these unhappy people. And it's ultra-depressing...

Still one of the most thrilling and thoroughly entertaining of all musicals.

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.

On such a limited level this delivers; if you take the kids, leave them to it.

Sadly, this will not go down as one of Brooks' classics.

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.

This plays like a collection of translated, stylised scenes rather than a seamless narrative that arouses one's sympathy with Finn or forbearance for Estella. File under well-meaning failures.

A remarkable ensemble in an uneven patchwork of loss, longing and the urgent necessity of a societal rethink.

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

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.

Bigger, better and more polished than the first, with a quite satisfactory ratio of action set-pieces and a lot of juvenile japery squarely aimed at its PG and fanboy audience.

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.

This is a superbly crafted, landmark film which invested a much-derided and frequently ludicrous genre with a welcome degree of dignity and respectability.

A rounded portrayal that leaves an overwhelming sense of the miraculousness of life.

Flawed but staggering cinema, the unforgettable Apocalypse Now setpieces are extraordinary.

An effective look at women's lives in a decidedly non-Hollywood setting.

Surprisingly sentimental by turns, this emerges not as just another gangster initiation movie, but as a story of father and son love with enough guts to hold those anticipating the former, while also touching the heart.

Day-Lewis and Pfeifer are on top form with Ryder giving the performance of her career.

By the time everyone's done their darnedest to undermine this romance and the tirelessly selfless St. Danny has begun to contemplate cutting the apron strings, they've all nearly worn out their welcome. It's simple, sweet and uninspired.

Pretty as a picture, but emptyheaded as hell.

Sumptuous to look at, with some decent performances but Branagh's attempt at this gothic horror just doesn't hold together convincingly and fails to engage.

The mammoths aren’t all that is wild and woolly in this innocent, old-fashioned, amusingly self-important, entertainingly mad, rip-snorting throwback to vintage Saturday matinee fare, with all the swell set piece thrills state-of-the-art technology can throw at it.

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.

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.

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

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