Bob Graham

Keeps sinking into its own grimness.

The specifics of their predicament are well handled -- being thrown in a Third World prison may be every tourist's nightmare -- even if the movie eventually goes soft and squishy.

Li is a phenomenon.

Astonishing visualizations of the afterlife are coupled with a drawn-out allegory about communication between the living and the dead that becomes something of a trial to sit through.

Rich supplies some eloquent grace notes, and Van Sant uses them to make understated music.

Not half-bad. It's about three- quarters bad, actually, but what's left offers some goof-off fun.

Adam Sandler finally has a good excuse: The devil made him do it.

This land of sweetness and light may appeal to many, but to some it is going to seem like living hell.

Fascinating -- up to a point.

The picture, directed by Rick Famuyiwa, becomes a juggling act, contrasting the efforts of the three grown-up buddies to get to a wedding on time, with flashbacks of their youth.

Action in an action comedy is supposed to be funny, too, as Jackie Chan well knows. The refitting of the crashed plane is so tedious we feel as if we're doing the work ourselves.

At its most interesting, and a bit frightening, when Moore starts to get a little loony. Too bad they didn't follow through and make this more of a psychological thriller than a melodrama.

Don't tell Mom, but everybody seems stoned.

For a bighearted effort like this one, some patience on the audience's part is not too much to ask. Go ahead. Take a chance.

It's more psychological than a genre movie, and that is the source of both its greatest interest and its biggest problem.

It is maliciously entertaining, up to a point.

Amusing enough.

It is the Eddie Murphy movie where Eddie Murphy has next to nothing to do. Do little says it all.

Even if his (Stallone) own star may be fading, the popularity of car racing is enormous. These fans are not likely to be disappointed by Driven.

The first half-hour of this movie is sensational, creating an atmosphere of dread that any horror master would envy.

The show takes little more than an hour to finish and less than a minute to forget, while politely reminding us not only that gay movies have fallen on hard times but also that they refuse to give up.

Gutter romance meets metaphysical thriller.

The lead actors on both sides of the vampire divide are all strong personalities.

Handsomely weathered John Hurt, as Pelagia's father, gives a performance of such unhackneyed dignity that it provides a moral compass for the action and helps to keep the ricocheting emotional content of the film in balance.

The film is well shot and has titillating action without a single persuasive emotion.

Kline, in particular, has the spark and know-how to overcome some awfully belabored writing and situations.

Thank God for James Gandolfini.

For quite of few of The Whole Nine Yards, it appears that the most clever thing in the movie is going to be the opening credits, monstrous close-ups of the morning toothbrushing routine.