Chris Kaltenbach

When Crews is onscreen, White Chicks is a film that fears nothing and no one. When he's not, it's a film too tentative and soft-hearted to scale the farcical heights to which it aspires.

Garry Marshall, old pro that he is, couldn't be more endearing as the grandfather, struggling gamely to make things right.

Simply twiddling with the fine-tuning on the central character is not enough to warrant remaking a film. Both Glover and Willard deserve better.

It's hard to go wrong with a movie full of talking dogs. But the makers of Beverly Hills Chihuahua sure try.

Young Cyrus is undeniably cute, and some of her songs are as catchy as the law allows - especially "Hoedown Throwdown," But asked to anchor a full-length movie, she simply doesn't have the chops to pull it off.

Gets credit for avoiding the easy path. Too bad the path it chooses doesn't lead us anywhere we want to be taken.

Moonlight Mile leavens the mood occasionally, but it cheapens things by insisting that everybody onscreen and in the audience leavethe theater smiling.

A film as clever and embracingly ribald as this shouldn't have to resort to cliche in the end; director Nigel Cole should have kept his girls in Britain and kept the mood light.

Is there anyone out there who hasn't seen this movie a dozen times before? Maybe even as recently as last week, since it's basically the same story line as the funnier, if less heartfelt, "Four Christmases."

Funny, sweet and only mildly offensive.

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.

Heaven is so determined to be poetic and beautiful, it comes across as forced and didactic, a lesson in relative morality whose storyline doesn't so much flow as lurch from one stretch to another.

A joyful celebration of spirit and endurance.

If Kill Bill Vol. 1 was bloody exhilarating, Vol. 2 is bloody great. And, as a bonus, not nearly so bloody.

Partially financed by the liberal Move On.org, speaks most eloquently when it lets Fox News do the talking.

A film not nearly as intriguing as it should have been, centering on a death that isn't nearly as intricately fascinating as the filmmakers think. Exacerbating the problem is a cast of actors who seem too self-consciously playacting.

Paid In Full's performances - especially by the always-engaging Phifer -- are strong, its message worthwhile and its sincerity doubtless.

If only it had some funny lines, a focused plot and an idea that stretched beyond the initial setup.

What the film needs is more heart, humor and maybe some honest-to-goodness humility, not energy. And unfortunately, that's about all Gooding seems able to bring to it.

Heaven knows what the suits at Disney were thinking, for what they ended up with was a bland Jackie Chan movie and a lifeless travelogue.

While it's certainly too derivative to be a great movie, it's too goodhearted and modest in its aspirations to be denied.

Features lots of cool dialogue but doesn't provide much of a movie in which to showcase it.

This delightful, if perhaps too calculatedly winsome, comedy presents seniors who are coping with emotional and physical losses and challenges them to act like the young people they still are at heart.

Like its predecessor, Jeepers Creepers 2 is that rare modern horror film that remembers audiences are scared far more by what they don't see than by what they do. For that alone, horror fans should be thankful.

Charming has devolved into almost a pejorative these days, but Tuck Everlasting is the sort of film that could change that.

A sword-and-sorcery saga that desperately wants to be another "Lord of the Rings," Eragon succeeds in being only the palest of imitations.

Oh, this is all so terribly not good.

It may not advance the art form, but it's a movie with pleasures for the whole family, and nowadays that's saying something.

The result is a movie that inspires without pontificating and plays on the heartstrings without pounding on them incessantly.

The strong young cast keeps the film from being a total waste.

Tries to be both poignant and wicked, and succeeds at neither.

There are moments, heaven forgive me, that left me chuckling. Not to mention eternally grateful that it's these guys doing this stuff, and not me.

It's hard to figure where it's going, and when the movie's over, it's even harder figuring where it's been. But the careening roller-coaster ride calling itself Smokin' Aces is such a hoot to be on, who really cares?

Gracie is painfully earnest, which might be OK were it not also painfully trite, painfully cliched and painfully formulaic.

In a society where athletic competitions are too often likened to war, the recognition that everyone's equal once they're off the playing field is a welcome reminder of that little thing called perspective, not to mention sportsmanship.

No visual style, amateur effects.

Too much about the game and not enough about the town, the players and everything else.

True-blue Incredibles is a super tribute to the power of family and the might of imagination.

The movie lives and dies on the energy of stepping.

Fans should be satisfied, but it's hard to imagine anyone else will be much interested in TMNT.

Director Daniele Thompson gets the point across so airily and pleasantly, in a film cast to perfection, that it's no problem accepting the message with a shrug, while profoundly enjoying the messenger.

In its own B-film, let's-make-them-jump-out-of-their-seats way, Bats is quite the hoot.

Determinedly genial and relentlessly bland.

The setup is bad even by slasher-film standards: poorly acted, atrociously written and unimaginatively directed. But once Freddy and Jason have at it, the movie takes on a recklessly kinetic energy that finally delivers on its title's promise.

It's obvious and stereotypical. It's leaden and unconvincing. It's not nearly as outrageous as it thinks it is.

Cameron Crowe crams at least three movies' worth of plotlines into Elizabethtown, and gives short shrift to all of them.

Comes across as more willfully clever than profound, leaving us to applaud the message while pondering why the messenger had to strain so hard to get it across.

The results are sometimes too frenetic, the laughs too obvious and predictable. But director Joel Zwick paces things well, and leavens the lunacy with enough seriousness (including a wonderfully poignant exchange between Toula and her brother) to keep the film grounded in the real.

Painstakingly painful.

What's surprising is that the film has genuine laughs and smart-aleck asides that will keep even nonfans happy (although it helps if you at least like the genre).

The action is thrilling enough.

There's no denying the raw emotional power of this heart-rending story.

A film of so much daring, a film that takes so many chances, it's impossible not to be impressed.

The whole thing is too giddy to be taken seriously and too much of a confection to leave much of a lasting impression. But for 140 minutes, at least, it should give non-fanboys at least an idea of what all the fuss is about.

Simply go out and rent the original. In the thin ranks of killer-power-tool flicks, it's still the standard to beat.

Unapologetically cliched and determinedly upbeat (even when it shouldn't be).

The Mexican is its own worst enemy, consistently undermining its best efforts. The result is an over-long series of quirks, a film that's far less than the sum of its often amusing and ingenious parts.

Congratulations, Renny Harlin. You've successfully exorcised all the horror out of The Exorcist.

The latest in a line of quirky, feel-good British comedies, Greenfingers fits right into the breezily entertaining mold but doesn't expand it.

Bottom line: Juwanna Mann is a drag - in every sense of the word.

Inspirational, heart-rending and the movie that made Taylor a star - what more do you want? [19 May 2007, p.9S]

Cool!

A gritty, profane and profoundly disturbing look at the American drug culture.

Lighthearted fluff, not piercing drama. Still, a little shot of reality -- or at least an acknowledgement of same -- could have done this film wonders.

The Guardian is that rarest of cinematic commodities: an action movie displaying brains and heart and the opportunity for its stars to do something more than keep the narrative flowing between explosions.

Although some clever touches are clearly directed at adults -- much of the film's humor is quite likely to go under your head. [20 Nov 1998]

The best thing that can be said about this Yours, Mine and Ours is that it's inoffensive.

Avoids pretension by never trying to be more than it is -- an acknowledgment that things frequently are not as bad as they seem. That's a concept that deserves a little spreading.

Spirit lacks that essential emotional resonance, and suffers because of it.

Besides offering the giddy pleasure of seeing Mia Farrow play a demonic nanny, there's not much to the film that a repeat viewing of its earlier incarnation couldn't provide.

Puerile, offensive, degrading, dumb, pointless, insipid and may just well be a harbinger for the end of Western civilization as we know it. But I laughed. Sorry.

Predictable but utterly engaging, 27 Dresses will likely be remembered as the film that made Katherine Heigl an A-list star.

A welcome anomaly - a shallow hero you root for.

Thank goodness for Davy Crockett; without him, the Alamo could have proven the blandest heroic siege in movie history.

Relentless in its crudity, so indiscriminate in its pursuit of tasteless laughs, so pure in its determination to offend, one almost has to admire it. It's even funny. Sometimes.

More of a sales pitch than a movie.

Better than his previous films, The Day After Tomorrow plays to Emmerich's strengths, making for a thrill ride that rarely disappoints when it matters.

The Clearing reminds us what a riveting presence he (Redford) can be.

The cinematic equivalent of a careless foot fault.

Goes to such great lengths to show the greatness of its Navy diver hero that it neglects to add much depth to his character - or the story.

Humorous but much too predictable send-up of reality TV and the sheer banality of it all.

Here's hoping your own dreams of Africa are more interesting -- and better acted -- than this movie.

Much of the film's virtue lies in its straight-ahead narrative and uncomplicated morality. That and the undeniable charisma and virtuosity of its star.

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

The martial arts wizard shows a nice feel for the Butch and Sundance thing.

Anderson brings real gravitas to the unfortunate Lily Bart, in an Oscar-caliber performance that makes one wonder what Academy voters are looking for.

It's hard to figure who this picture is supposed to be for. Although a cartoon, it's way too mean-spirited and crass for young kids (parents, be forewarned!). And the idea that any substantial number of adults would find this sort of thing entertaining ... let's pray civilization hasn't come to that.

Nothing seriously detracts from the film's overall brilliance.

You get the film's message, that mankind does not react well when challenged by unpleasantness it can't explain away, within the first 15 minutes -- leaving more than 100 minutes to ponderously belabor the point.

The Dukes of Hazzard may mark some sort of nadir when it comes to movies made from TV shows. It's an overlong, under-thought and numbingly one-dimensional extrapolation of a TV show whose pleasures were, at best, marginal. See it at your own peril.

As each male-female relationship works itself out in ways either contrived or predictable, here's betting you wind up more disappointed than enlightened.

Delivers deliciously low blows at corporate America, office politics and the lengths people will go to avoid work.

An underlit, overlong, underwritten and overloud albatross of a movie.

Strings of four-letter words are a poor substitute for dialogue, and it's not until the movie is almost over that someone realizes there's no reason, other than assumed macho posturing, for Cube's character to go after these bad guys so hard.

Fortunately, this film doesn't have to depend on off-screen dalliances to prove its worth.

Even a superstar needs to surround himself with better material than this.

There's enough wit to keep audiences of whatever age happy.

A violent, dumb, offensive mess.

It's hard, bordering on impossible, to evaluate this movie without stepping on people's beliefs.

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.

As they've proven before and doubtless will prove again, Soderbergh and his cast are capable of better, weightier, more substantial stuff. But for now, slumming has rarely seemed more appealing.

Lane gives the film her best shot; she's pretty much the only reason to see it. There's an intelligence mixed with ferocity that makes her performance compelling, far-more-so than anything else in the film.

Great book, great cast, average film: Les Miserables is all pedigree, no passion.

A love letter to the time, and the period, and the legend that has grown around both. Maybe it's all too wonderful to be true, but that's OK. If Taking Woodstock is a fantasy, then it's a most benevolent one, and more power to it.

Short on details and long on extreme, unflattering close-ups.

Save for Jesus' skin color, which he shares with some of his fellow Jews, little about the story is re-imagined or re-evaluated.

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

Pointed and satiric. Best of all, one must hasten to admit, it's pretty funny.

Largely devoid of the usual Western histrionics, this 1957 film, thanks to the steady hand of veteran director Delmer Daves, represents one of the more sober depictions of the clash between chaos and order that has always been at the center of the movie Western. [26 Aug 2007, p.3E]

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

The story line meanders and too many scenes drone on; Knocked Up is in serious need of a good editor. But the laughs are plentiful, and it's the rare movie these days where one doesn't feel guilty about finding the whole thing funny.

Children should enjoy Jungle Book 2 just fine. Adults will wonder why anyone bothered.

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

I know Empire is supposed to be a movie, but for a while, I thought I was listening to one of those talking books.

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.

Taken together, the sum of so many parts is too schizophrenic to be wholeheartedly embraced -- the movie is played for parody, but with a veneer of respectability that leaves the whole endeavor betwixt and between.

Chilling doesn't begin to describe Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple...But the film never gets behind the chill.

It's a tough slog, but worth seeing once. [08 Nov 2008, p.4C]

This would be an excellent movie from a first-time filmmaker, but from one of America's premiere directors, it's a disappointment.

The American writer and poet Charles Bukowski is certainly an acquired taste, and Factotum may be just the film for determining whether one wants to acquire it.

The film marks Braff as a talent to watch, blessed with the sort of natural, everyman appeal that audiences eat up.

Characters are manipulated and lives made whole in ways both satisfying and unexpected.

A pleasant little confection that leaves behind the sneaking suspicion it should have amounted to so much more.

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.

Chicken Little is relentlessly cute. That's the good news, and those who consider the word cute anathema may want to look for entertainment elsewhere.

Passionately acted and grittily convincing.

A great cast can't quite pull City by the Sea out of the drink.

Sometimes sly and witty, sometimes dull and forced, Coffee and Cigarettes is Jim Jarmusch's testimony to the difficulties and delights of communication.

Like "Tango," Wang's film also seeks to uncover whether sex without emotion is really possible, or worth the effort.

If only all this wonderful talent wasn't in service to a story that pushes credulity beyond the breaking point, perilously close to the realm of farce. Too many coincidences, too much convenient timing, too little honest plot development.

In the end, this is a movie that doesn't respect its own power. Less of a stacked deck would have left Vera Drake to play a far more effective hand.

The best moments in Paper Clips - and there are plenty - come when it doesn't resort to mundane cliches or calculated emotions to make its point.

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.

Earns few points for originality, but scads for good-hearted exuberance.

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

Like the particular brand of music Dewey espouses, this is a movie more concerned with exploiting rock than understanding it.

All this is out of the Haunted House 101 textbook.

Regrettably, Bones is what passes for horror these days: Throw a lot of graphic, gore-filled, darkly lit stuff on the screen, and see what sticks. Discerning moviegoers should pass on the opportunity.

This military courtroom drama is full of questions, but woefully short of answers.

A crackerjack thriller, laced with labyrinthine mysteries, moral quandaries and unspeakable evil.

Put simply, Mona Lisa Smile is too much of a stacked deck -- a movie too concerned with ensuring that audiences feel a certain way to risk anything like nuance or interpretation.

Kids will get antsy, wondering why their favorite characters disappear for long stretches of the film, while adults will wonder just when this scattershot approach to storytelling will congeal into something resembling coherence.

Hellboy is, to borrow a phrase, one helluva good time.

Filled with delightful sequences.

Shortbus is nothing if not over-the-top, replete with consummated sex acts, both gay and straight.

Those not familiar with Proust will doubtless feel lost. Unlike the printed word, film does not offer the chance to pause and reflect, or go back and re-read a passage.

Nothing in this film -- even Robin Williams, alas -- is funny.

Tightly scripted and intricately plotted, the buddy film manages the neat two-step of being simultaneously profane and engaging.

It was a time in history eminently worth celebrating on film.

All that artistry is surrounded by a hackish, paint-by-numbers storyline that makes the time between dance numbers seem endless.

About as good as the genre gets.

An awful film about an awful time.

Taxi's only saving grace is an inexplicable, though delightful, turn by Ann-Margret as Andy's ever-tipsy mom. She's a stitch, and about 100 times better than her surrounding material.

Unable to embrace the world he's seeking to depict, Cherot is left with a lifeless shell, a movie so preoccupied with being noble that it forgets to be interesting. The problem with G is not that it's unbelievable, it's just boring.

The story is a comic-book tale at its most basic level.

Unwaveringly predictable.

The Cell is eye candy - but it could give your brain a bad case of indigestion.

Go to enjoy the technical expertise, and take a first-grader (and not a particularly savvy one) along to find something of value in everything else.

Ella Enchanted is one cute movie.

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.

A slice-of-life where being gay is a fact of daily existence, not an excuse for existential dilemmas or grand tragedies.

This is a movie for genre fans only; there's not an aspect to it that should appeal to the rest of the world. It's neither original nor inventive, and while its young cast works hard, there's not even a standout performance worth recommending.

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.

Ghost Ship would have been so much better if they'd just let the ship do more of the acting.

Disney is creatively bankrupt and bereft of ingenuity -- especially in its live-action films. [25 Dec 1998, p.8F]

It doesn't take a genius IQ to figure out the movie's final twist far in advance, leaving the attentive viewer to wonder only about how Shyamalan will pull it off and to hope the movie doesn't turn silly.

Your basic Lasse Hallstrom formula-film, featuring people in dire situations who are redeemed when their basic goodness comes to the fore, elevated a notch by a pair of actors displaying sides we don't often see.

When it sticks to the subject, the movie is sad and affecting.

As great as the film looks, the story, adapted from a novel by P.D. James, never quite comes into focus.

Though lovingly crafted and beautifully photographed, the movie does little to make Jones seem compelling, or even all that good.

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

The result may not make for a great adventure, but it's sure a fun ride.

Best of all is Jeff Bridges as the voice of Geek, a laid-back philosopher-penguin who becomes Cody's low-key guru, mentoring him in the ways of the wave.

The result is a film that plays like a creaking melodrama, with good guys and bad guys and precious little in between.

Whatever spark the newer Precinct 13 has comes from its supporting players.

The soundtrack is guaranteed to send chills where they'll be most effective, and the ultimate resolution is a real shocker. While it doesn't explain away everything that's happened, it comes deliciously close.

Romanek does such a nice job of calibrating his film's squirm factor, it's possible to overlook some flaws that would sink a lesser film.

A hollow, relentless mess.

Well-acted, lovingly put together and heartbreakingly honest.

Those willing to overlook its emotional grandstanding will find much to admire and even more to think about in this Oscar-nominated Danish drama.

This may be the quietest addict ever to hit movie screens, as well the most disturbing.

A comedy that doesn't work if you think about it too much. Cut it some slack, however, and you just might have a good time.

An action-adventure flick that could turn into this generation's "Raiders of the Lost Ark."

Serenity may be short on exposition, but it's smart and fun.

Put the tango in "To Sir, With Love," and you've got Take the Lead.

There are times when his message threatens to overwhelm his story line, and the last 15 minutes or so of Blood Diamond demonstrate what happens when sentimentality wins out over style and grit.

It's also unclear just what Niccol wanted this film to be: a satire? a spoof? a black comedy? a pointed social commentary? Perhaps all of the above - way too many hats for a movie this slight to wear.

Meandering, forgettable trifle.

Offers a welcome riff on a well-worn horror standard.

The Sentinel moves quickly and never becomes a bore. It does become something of a cartoon, though, which proves a major letdown for a movie that aims for something far more intelligent.

The movie is so confused about itself that it comes across as toneless, a bunch of characters wandering around in a story no one is controlling.

Christmas with the Kranks is so calculated that it's pathetic, a warm-hearted holiday greeting card with not one scintilla of honest emotion inside.

It's possible that a smart, insightful, sharp-edged comedy could have been written around these characters, but Trust The Man isn't it.

Greenaway's film is about making people's jaws drop.

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 film that really has no idea what it wants to be, so it tries a little of everything, and does nothing very well.

Fans of anime probably will find Vampire Hunter D plenty thrilling. Non-fans, or those not familiar with the genre, will enjoy the film's gothic atmosphere, but may wonder what all the fuss is about.

A wonderfully understated work offering insights to a world where no emotion is simple.

Connie and Carla is a good-hearted comedy that missteps by trying to become a moralistic one.

A marvelously subversive, slyly manipulative effort.

There's not a false moment within the film's 88-minute running time, nor many that could be done any better.

Brimming with values that should serve its young audience well: altruism, friendship, self-sacrifice, responsibility.

Good intentions are no substitute for good filmmaking, and Spy Kids 3D is nothing more than a retread in flashier clothing.

Romantically nostalgic, a love letter to growing up in simpler times.

A grade-B rumination on what a nasty guy the devil can be.

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

The determinedly cynical needn't bother, but just about everyone else should love Eight Below.

Doesn't display a single deep thought, or even a middlingly profound one.

An odd little movie. And not in a good way.

The cinematic equivalent of a beautifully wrapped gift box with nothing inside.

It fails to dig beneath that surface picture and offer up anything in the way of explanation or motivation.

Will keep kids happy and parents mildly entertained.

The cast doesn't impress, the story doesn't compel and the characters are too bland to make people remember them.

This is Forster's show, and he doesn't disappoint.

A return to form -- bad form. Lifeless, unimaginative and almost determinedly uninspired, it's paint-by-numbers filmmaking at its dreariest.

It's a blast!

Rocky and Bullwinkle have not only returned, but they've been placed in the hands of filmmakers who know what they're doing.

Fitfully thrilling.

In a stroke of voice-casting genius, the voices of Marjane and her mother are provided by real-life mother and daughter Chiara Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve, respectively, both of whom bring heft and measured emotion to the characters.

Stupid. Illogical. Simplistic. Pandering. And those are its good points.

Come Undone would have benefited immensely from less constricted performances from Elkaim and Rideau, both of whom go through the film determined not to crack a smile.

There's little time for nuance in Stop-Loss, and it doesn't deny any of the film's power to wish Peirce would occasionally slow things down enough to let her audience ponder what they're seeing.

If only La Mujer de mi Hermano had a dollop of humor and at least one character worth rooting for.

The film may not be art, but it's got a beat and you can definitely dance to it.

Some might find the whole thing exhilarating, but exhausting is more the word that comes to this man's mind.

The whole cast is good. It's too bad all that good work isn't in service to a better, or certainly more original, script.

Things may work out predictably, but The Ultimate Gift does not yank on the heartstrings so much as pluck them gently.

Paycheck is one of those movies in which all the ingenuity went into the original idea and none into its execution.

Painfully earnest, The Astronaut Farmer is, sad to say, a bunch of hooey. It's Frank Capra without the genuine heart, certainly without any sense of perspective.

"His eye is incredibly sharp and amazing, in regard to visceral cinema," says Uma Thurman, who has worked with Tarantino on both Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill. "He's a great storyteller. He's very seductive as a filmmaker."

Takes a great idea -- what if the inhabitants of a museum came to life at night? -- and milks it for every drop of fun it's worth.

The film ultimately is a letdown, leaving too many questions unanswered and ending in a gesture that doesn't really solve anything.

A movie like this could easy slide into Shirley Temple territory, showcasing a child actor so full of sweetness and light and good, old-fashioned spunk that audiences wince. But Palmer, whose enthusiasm and energy never seem forced, avoids all those traps; her Akeelah is never less than believable.

A twisted little comic gem.

But The Ugly Truth can't escape its own ugly truth, that the central characters are written to extremes both ludicrous and tiring.

Foxx is magnificent, taking a role that could be exorbitantly showy (actors playing the mentally disabled tend to forget the word "restraint") and turning in a performance that's controlled and mesmerizing.

The vocal canines appear for about 30 humorous seconds, in a dream sequence, and are then never seen again. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about the rest of the film, which runs an additional 98.5 excruciating minutes.

In some ways, Thank You for Smoking does not bemoan smoking as much as it bemoans people's willingness to be duped by smooth-tongued orators.

Anna Faris, her deadpan comic timing still a joy to watch, returns as Cindy Campbell, one of two main holdovers from the first three movies.

Buy your ticket, sit yourself down, and let ol' John take you for a ride. You'll have a blast.

The material has a definite "haven't-we-been over-this-before?" feel.

An overly gimmicky and fatally repetitive terrorist thriller that quickly wears out its welcome.

The residents of Beauty Shop never quite gel. Instead of camaraderie, the feeling is one of bare tolerance.

The Legend of Bagger Vance is nothing but "The Natural" with Will Smith playing the bat.

It offers top actors in Fiennes and Richardson, plus a rare joint appearance by the sisters Redgrave.

The movie's not nearly as cool as the setup.

There's a power to Woman Thou Art Loosed that transcends its limitations, a determined, heartfelt belief in the possibility of redemption.

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.

Lackluster in narrative and in no way original or innovative, the movie is pretty much generic Disney, a film about universal brotherhood stitched together from parts that worked better in other films.

Kids, except for the very youngest, are going to be bored.

Crush is the kind of movie that gives friendship a bad name.

The film's impact and poignancy are undeniable.

There's enough here to keep the movie light and avoid the curse of interminableness. Will there be enough to warrant a third Scooby-Doo film? Must we find out?

Go see Crossroads if you want to hear Britney sing or see her wear next-to-nothing. But otherwise, avoid this train wreck at all costs.

Think you know where this film is going? You do, and the best thing about Must Love Dogs is that it takes only 88 minutes to get there - short enough to enjoy the film's modest, well-worn pleasures, but not so long that you feel your time could have been put to better use elsewhere.

The most exhilaratingly horrifying movie to come out in years.

The Banger Sisters stands as proof that no movie is so bad it can't be redeemed by a single stellar performance. That performance is by Susan Sarandon.

Eventually becomes cliched, predictable and crude. And that's a real sin.

Yes, the movie asks hard questions, but it would be better - or at least more honest - if it weren't so insistent that everyone arrive at the same answer.

There's a moving, complicated love story at the center of Angel Eyes. It's too bad a peripheral plot line draws attention away from it.

Other than portraying Mary as an overwhelmed teenager, mystified that God has chosen her to be the mother of his child, it doesn't offer anything that hasn't been playing out in grade-school pageants for decades.

The performances of Luna and, especially, Reilly, make the film more enthralling than it perhaps deserves to be.

The movie's already peaked, even before the opening credits.

All this might be forgivable if Just My Luck had a little more substance, but it never moves beyond the single joke of its premise.