Connie Ogle

It's possible to achieve hilarity and pathos, but it's not easy, and Litvak isn't quite skilled enough to make the sex jokes rest easily beside the final grandiose and pat confessions. As a result, When Do We Eat? merely whets your appetite for a fresh take on family matters.

It is entertaining enough to send intelligent viewers (but only the intelligent ones) in search of the book.

It's a warm, skillful excavation of what look like ordinary lives, ones that aren't so simple once you dig a little deeper.

Screenwriter Shawn Slovo -- whose white parents were anti-apartheid activists in South Africa -- ends his finely tuned screenplay on a note not of violence and anger but of forgiveness. It's a breathtaking coda that reminds us of that undeniable human beauty: the ability to survive, to fight for right -- and then move peacefully on.

The few jokes it does land can't make this more than a look-what's-on-late-night-cable event.

Unlike Uncle Nino's garden, the film never blooms into anything special.

Once you're among them, the Tenenbaums -- and Anderson -- cast quite a spell.

Turns out to be a lot less tiresome than it sounds, aided by a wonderfully appealing cast and a strong message.

Dismal.

Funny in the juvenile, crass way we expect.

The Constant Gardener is difficult to watch, literally. Meirelles' lens leaps and jitters too much, as if it's anxious it might be bludgeoned to death, too.

It's pretty much a waste of everyone's time, especially yours.

Predictable but enjoyable comedy, which succeeds largely on the charm of its star.

Norton isn't the first guy who comes to mind when you think ''period piece,'' but he's starred in two such films this year (in addition to The Painted Veil, he stars in "The Illusionist"), and he is terrific in both.

There are not enough thrilling musical interludes, and few come close to capturing the sly joy in Porter's music.

Overall, the film's sheer mediocrity prevents Thurman from flying to its rescue.

A romantic comedy so rote, dull and predictable that it makes "You've Got Mail" seem innovative and fresh.

It's unimaginative, crude and so derivative it hurts.

Lost and Delirious doesn't need metaphors for the power of strength and healing. All the passion and pain it needs glows ferociously in the eyes of its young women.

Being Julia is really about the fear of aging and the battle to remain relevant professionally and sexually.

If you're going to be offensive, by all means be offensive. Be tasteless! Be "There's Something About Mary." But at least stick to your guns, and don't wuss out when it counts.

Made with an unerring visual dazzle -- its dark corners are shadowy, deep and melancholy, its brilliant seascapes the sparkling embodiment of why we must all find a reason to carry on.

Never has the sight of naked women been so innocent.

One of those blessedly rare films based on a self-help book, is remarkable in one sense: It prevents "The Lake House" and its magical mailbox from being the most ridiculous concept on screen this summer.

In the wake of TV's powerhouse "The Shield," Dark Blue comes off as something of a retread, with little of "The Shield's" electric fury, edgy camera work or deft characterizations.

Flamboyantly over-the-top, visually kinetic.

The film, bound to bore the socks off impatient viewers, mistakes reserve for depth and ends up hamstringing its talented cast into playing characters you never care about all that much.

Limps along, spinning not a silken web but an extremely derivative, tattered one not likely to snare anybody's interest.

Shakespeare's rich language does not fit soundly inside every mouth.

The cast brings its by-the-numbers characters alive.

A loud, dumb movie, but its male, car-obsessed audience will probably enjoy it anyway.

If only someone had recognized the inherent vileness of the premise, we might not have been subjected to this hideous Rumor at all.

Listening to people bicker for almost two hours wears thin, especially when the comedy is never quite so funny as you had hoped it would be.

Mostly, though, Ondine deftly demonstrates just how far we'll reach for any promise of relief from life's hardships, in whatever form -- magic or plain dumb luck -- it arrives.

Coppola and her crew were allowed to shoot at Versailles -- family pedigree does pay dividends, apparently -- which gives the film a needed whiff of reality.

There are not enough synonyms for ''bad'' to describe the pretension and utter banality of the masturbatory The Brown Bunny, a film so exhaustively awful even its creator Vincent Gallo once disavowed it.

Has a weird, compelling energy, fueled by a deliciously dynamic cast, a cheerfully bawdy and odd story line and a refreshing, impossible romance.

Dear Frankie is a small movie with a big soul and no easy formula for the happiness of its big-hearted characters.

A film of this sort demands superb, seemingly effortless acting, and Holofcener gets it at every turn.

Viewing the new Martin Lawrence kiddie movie is more enjoyable than watching my dog eat a desiccated toad carcass he pried off the road, but only marginally so.

It's a powerful argument for optimism.

The sins of the inspirational Saint Ralph are venial, but they undeniably prevent the small Canadian film from stretching beyond the boundaries of an After School Special.

A sweet reminder of their lost and lively world.

This noisy, formulaic film turns out to be immediately forgettable, except for the parts that are so ridiculous they leave you shaking your head in wonder hours later.

Despite all the flying bullets, which are admittedly entertaining at times, Shoot 'Em Up doesn't offer enough bang for your bucks.

The film is more of an exercise in pandering and propaganda -- give your baby up for adoption, you selfish pig! -- than the heartfelt drama it aims to be.

Nobel Son is not good. Nor is it bad. It exists, instead, somewhere in the middle ground of interesting enough to hold one's attention without actually providing any fresh, sensible or nonderivative developments.

The only positive thing about the aimless film The Yellow Handkerchief is the idea that William Hurt may be ready for his Jeff Bridges moment.

Chéri never fulfills its emotional promise.

An uninspired, sporadically funny adaptation that falls short of the book's winsome, frisky chaos.

Won't make you forget Kidman's better work, but it's not a film you long to excise from your memory.

It's López de Ayala's show, and she's relentless in her energy and passion.

It's an hour longer than the average sitcom, but The Wedding Date isn't much different from what you see crammed into any TV comedy lineup, minus the laugh track.

Could there be a more inappropriate time to release a cheesy horror movie about evildoing in Louisiana.

For most U.S. audiences, Sophie Scholl: The Final Days, an Academy Award nominee for best foreign language film, is going to feel more like a history lesson than a movie.

An important and interesting story, but the reform school itself never seems terribly harsh.

Rapidly devolves into a pedestrian thriller in which almost nobody behaves in a recognizably human way.

It's a lot more entertaining than box office success "Scooby-Doo" and more honest, too. When Irwin plays out a scene with a reptilian, you can be sure the croc is not computer-generated.

So deliciously absorbing and well done.

Little happens that you don't see coming, down to which cast members will get picked off and in what order. It's a dumb action movie in a summer full of dumb movies, and yet it's always entertaining. And you won't really miss Arnold at all.

Features one of the more pointless cameos ever when Tom Waits shows up abruptly in the desert to spout mystical nonsense about Domino trading her life for somebody else's. The scene has absolutely no place in this jarring, violent movie; Waits is just another of Scott's distractions.

Deadly serious, straightforward and surprisingly entertaining tragedy.

Except for Spacey's talent, elements don't add up.

The biggest surprise in the cheery, delightful Love Actually is its lively, edgy, slightly blue sense of humor.

An annoying, tedious little film.

If you found "Crouching Tiger" a stunning bore, you probably won't fall under Hero's spell. But the rest of us, well, we'll be more than happy to savor every moment of its strange, ravishing beauty.

Paced at the speed at which Arctic ice melts, The Dust Factory is a sluggish, heavy-handed fable overloaded with talk of paradise and the man in the moon.

This film and Miller's vision remind us of the danger of giving in to fear.

It's a testament to the power of the story -- and this engaging adaptation -- that leaving Hogwarts is tough anyway.

Feels every bit as cheap and flimsy as Edward's hospital.

Above all, this story is about the peril that lurks under life's surfaces.

Skillfully straddles an intriguing line between reality and fiction.

The only thing missing from this winsome, madcap throwback set in London on the eve of World War II is an actual Brit in the title role.

Embarrassingly shoddy film.

The movie is less painful than having your kidneys removed, but Turistas doesn't offer a trip entertaining enough to take.

Garner may be a study in butt-kicking intensity on TV's Alias, but here, she's an engaging comic performer who more than carries her share of what is essentially an unoriginal, mostly average film.

All we can do is hope that films such as Hotel Rwanda remind us all -- moviegoer and politician -- of the terrible cost of doing nothing.

Despite the increasingly annoying presence of the mugging, fatuous Cuba Gooding Jr., The Fighting Temptations pulls off what feels like a major feat: Its musical sequences could make the most hardened atheist want to go to church.

Premonition is actually more daring than you might expect. Not bold enough to be memorable, maybe, but just enough to keep you from falling asleep in front of the TV.

Based on a graphic novel, 30 Days of Night opens with a premise so promising it seems almost impossible to screw up.

Think "Cruel Intentions" in period costume, or better yet, Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette," which managed to take its subject matter lightly and seriously at the same time.

Romantic comedies don't have to be profound when they are as appealing as this one.

There's little warmth or depth to the characters who, for the most part, trudge through the film with little wonder at the magical journey they're making.

The germ of a better film lies in that joke, but Schaeffer doesn't quite dig it out. Instead, we get painfully unfunny scenes that make us think that when it comes to writing comedy, Schaeffer should stick to his own rule: never again.

Fans of period drama will find things to like about The Duchess; it's not as ludicrous as "The Other Boleyn Girl," for instance, and it's not overly long or ponderous.

It has virtually nothing in common with the charming book written by the Gilbreths about their turn-of-the-century family and everything to do with making money on DVD rentals.

Johansson is magnetic enough to make this batch of Southern-fried corn almost digestible.

Equally thrilling and wrenching, the film is an absolute must for anyone who loves sports and an eloquent explanation for those who don't understand what the fuss is about.

The film hardly aims to be serious entertainment, and, to its credit, it's never uninteresting visually.

Like its eponymous subject, it succeeds only in being shallow and crass and not very much fun to be around.

You can tell they're desperate when they unashamedly resort to showcasing cutesy sea-creature behavior. Sandler is a funny guy. Let him work for his own laughs. He doesn't need a puking walrus to prop him up.

An apocalyptic Bob Dylan song made cinematic, with all the vision and poetry dissipating in the transfer. It's as if the filmmakers listened to "Desolation Row" just one time too many.

A large part of the movie's appeal can be attributed to Wilson, more dour than he's been in ages and yet more interesting, too.

Yes, it's every bit as brainless as the trailers suggest.

The film's appeal is universal, not just female, and, best of all, it's based on a true story.

Dan in Real Life is basically a slightly less-sappy version of "TheFamily Stone."

Brosnan and Moore may not be substitutes for Tracy and Hepburn, but they're more than capable of making you smile for now.

Better than its trailers indicate. Forget the seemingly silly Chapstick moment: Any film that sends a cold shock to your system is doing something right.