Chris Kaltenbach

It's a deft sleight-of-story Aniston, White and Arteta pull off, giving us a character who seems more than she is, but is really less than she appears.

Whereas the TV series rarely flinched when it came to showing the animal world as it is, Earth always pulls back at the last second. It shows a cheetah pulling down a gazelle, but not the feast that follows.

A first-rate sail into Adventureland.

Like the coolest train set a kid ever had. It's not real and the faces on the toy people don't look human, but it has bells and whistles galore and will take you as far as your imagination allows.

A joyful celebration of spirit and endurance.

This is a movie that's really about how much fun Glenn Milstead had being Divine, and how he — perhaps unexpectedly — found so many fans willing to go along for the ride. That's an American success story worth celebrating.

There's a dignity to Mondays in the Sun that manages to keep the film buoyant, helping to keep all the despair at bay.

Nothing seriously detracts from the film's overall brilliance.

Offers a welcome continuation of what has proven a fascinating journey both for the film's 11 subjects (three of the 14 opted out of the project this go-round) and its audience.

Entertaining, thrilling and honestly sentimental, it's an equal-opportunity crowd-pleaser.

A thoughtful, bittersweet film biography of the Cuban writer that captures both his irrepressible spirit and his sometimes overwhelming melancholy.

A snarling satire of Hollywood single-mindedness and its lack of any moral underpinning.

There are no surprise twists, no characters who rise above themselves, no cheap happy endings. There are just people struggling with emotions and situations they think are beyond their control.

A Dirty Shame is certainly dirty, and maybe it's even a shame. But this is the John Waters we've come to know and cherish, and that alone is cause to celebrate.

Baseball, Boston and Drew Barrymore. Certainly sounds like a winning combination.

Passionately acted and grittily convincing.

All about mood, and not one bit about action - which explains why it's at once both the most passionate film of the year so far, and the most determinedly inert.

There's a good heart beating at the core of Victor Vargas, one that belies its R-rating.

Filled with delightful sequences.

Greengrass has a fine sense of pacing, keeping events moving. It's rarely hard to guess what's going to happen next, but events unfold with such gusto that there's barely time to notice that.

The film mixes the psychological with the supernatural, the profane with the ridiculous, the self-indulgent with the understated, and dares you to assume anything. It's all great fun.

Gloriously retro, unashamedly celebratory of the joy of moviemaking and the love of old-fashioned heroism.

Four Christmases works because of some genuinely funny setups, a pace that never dwells on one gag (or even one family) too long and a careful mix of slapstick and bawdy humor. But mostly, the film works because of the astonishing acting talent the filmmakers brought together to make it.

A marvelously subversive, slyly manipulative effort.

Disturbing, maddening, often confusing, but also charming, engaging and challenging in all the best ways.

For at least two-thirds of its length, all elements combine for a taut thriller, a Hitchcockian exercise in suspense pitting human frailty - can our minds be trusted? - against human resourcefulness.

De Niro and Stiller combine to bring on laughs you don't have to feel guilty about.

Scratch will make even the uninitiated believe in the joy and propulsive power of hip-hop.