David Sterritt

The story is spotty, but the acting is fine, especially when Walken is around.

The animals are cute and Murphy gives a lively performance, but as with his remake of "The Nutty Professor," the original is still the best.

An interesting cast is wasted in this misanthropic thriller.

Hal Hartley's innovative comedy-drama is more ambitious than successful, but it deserves credit for trying something genuinely unusual.

Much of the acting is energetically good. Moviegoers familiar with "Fargo" and "Red Rock West" will find this adventure eerily familiar.

It packs an emotional punch despite shortcomings of story and style.

Vladimir Nabokov's novel helped open society's eyes to the evils of pedophilia in the 1950s, and this pensive adaptation renews the warning for a later generation.

One of the season's most watchable treats.

Spacey is almost as swinging as Darin was, but his filmmaking leans toward tried-and-true formulas.

Bird's keen visual imagination keeps the action grimly watchable.

The combination of caveman dialogue, overcooked action, and anything-for-an-effect performances is maddeningly crude even by cop-movie standards. [22 May 1987, p.23]

The subject is intriguing even if the dialogue is stilted and the acting is uneven.

Like the recent "Mona Lisa Smile," this tale could have been an effective feminist fable if it weren't so calculated.

The movie gives us a Round Table and a flashing Excalibur but no magic, no mystery, no mythic resonance. Mostly there's a lot of slashing swordplay that should appeal to the picture's target audience of young males.

Desplechin wants to film an adventure of the human spirit in the manner of a Hitchcockian drama, but he doesn't have a solid enough grasp of English culture to equal the complexity of his French productions like "The Sentinel" and "The Life of the Dead."

All so fast and frenetic.

Depp gives a smart, subtle performance, and Turturro is terrific as a foe who's both exactly what he seems and exactly the opposite. Koepp's makes his (literally) corny tricks seemfresh and surprising.

What begins as healthy skepticism in Mr. Pyne's screenplay is subjected to so many twists that it grows into sour cynicism, spread thinly over so many characters and events that it los es its impact...This isn't the first time that shallow notions of entertainment value have taken over what could have been a thought-provoking thriller. It's too bad the strengths of "White Sands" aren't parlayed into a more meaningful experience.

Movie stars have tamed sassy kids in movies from "The Blackboard Jungle" to "Stand and Deliver," but it's hard to remember an example more patronizing or sentimentalized than this one.

The results are more sleazy than insightful.

The movie is Allen's most successful in years, even if you don't see it as a self-made commentary on his own career. Credit goes less to the comic dialogue than to the razor-sharp performances of an excellent cast.

The screenplay doesn't ultimately make much sense. Carrey is a unique comic talent, though, and Freeman and Aniston back him up with such sensitive supporting performances that the film almost works if you can suspend enough disbelief to swallow its fantastic premise.

The story meanders, but the subject is timely and important.

Horror fans will find plenty to shriek about. Everyone else should keep their distance.

Carrey is excellent, making the most of his comic gifts even in a cumbersome Grinch outfit, and the eye-spinning color scheme is dazzling to behold.

Quite a time capsule, sampling various mid-century entertainment forms.

Bataille was a serious philosopher as well as a sensation-seeking writer, but you'd never guess his provocative ideas from this updated version.

What makes the picture special is its muted atmosphere, its way of concentrating on the human dimensions of the plot without slipping into pathos, sensationalism, or even melodrama. [18 Nov 1982, p.19]

The River doesn't live up to its ambitions. [03 Jan 1985, p.27]

Even MacLachlan's surprisingly witty performance can't compensate for the trite screenplay and Mistry's lack of charisma.

Virtually every person in the story is fabulously cute, picturesquely forlorn, adorably ditzy, or winsomely philosophical. In short, there's plenty of smooth storytelling but not a hint of reality here.

Jack Nicholson and Anjelica Huston give mature performances as the bereaved parents, and David Morse brings an offbeat touch to the basically decent man who traumatized their lives.

The director, Taylor Hackford, doesn't have the cinematic savvy to sustain so many tensions in a meaningful way; and the screenplay strays far over the line between incisive political comment and heavy-handed Red-baiting.

The movie means well, but neither its emotions nor its performances ring very true.

Sensitive acting by Morgan Freeman and stylish directing by Gary Fleder can't overcome the bottom-line pointlessness of the movie's melodramatic material, which never achieves the dark resonance that helped "The Silence of the Lambs" get under the skin of many moviegoers.

The movie is gorgeously filmed and contains some fascinating lore about life in northern climes. But the plot is tritely predictable and far-fetched. Julia Ormond, Gabriel Byrne, and Vanessa Redgrave are among the performers who deliver less than their best.

The stagebound setting gets boring; the action doesn't build a steady momentum; and the characters do far too much hanging around until the camera's ready to point at them again.

Soft, sentimental, and as unlike real family life as you can get.

May find some fans among female teens. But even they may decide the project cares more about quick profits than real entertainment value, since the signs are hard to miss.

Influenced by Billy Wilder's classic "Ace in the Hole," this dark comedy-drama rambles on too long and strains credibility at times.

There are multiple murders and two gory scenes, but if you love getting scared, then you'll enjoy this thrill ride.

Potter's trademark devices are all present, including the way characters burst into songs lip-synced to vintage recordings on the sound track.

The movie's somber message is worth heeding, and the acting is mostly excellent.

This variation on the "Rear Window" format works best when director Noyce gives free rein to Washington's thoughtful charm.

Roberts brings a sense of personal conviction to her part -- she's quite a feminist herself -- and as much sense of humor as the corny screenplay allows.

The movie takes no particular stance on the controversies surrounding its heroine, seen by some as a self-serving egomaniac and others as a tireless champion of the poor. Nor can much insight be gleaned from Madonna's energetic but oddly impersonal performance.

Strong acting and smartly tuned-in directing turn a run-of-the-mill detective story into a striking, sometimes harrowing blend of horror and suspense.

Like the nuclear sub it's named after, the picture is big, shiny, and expensive. It's also cold, hard, and cumbersome, and lacking the barest hint of emotional or psychological depth. [9 Mar 1990, Arts, p.10]

There's heavy influence from the "Brave New World" brand of dystopian fantasy, but engaging performances and a stylized visual approach lend it originality.

Hackman gives a powerful performance as the killer, and the storytelling is often gripping. But the film contains much extremely offensive language and gratuitous depictions of violence, some of it aimed at children, not needed to get the plot across.

This strikingly unusual movie is at once an old-fashioned melodrama, a boldly stylized spectacle, and a very grim fairy tale, acted and directed with originality and flair.

Director Claire Kilner and screenwriter Neena Beber don't walk the tightrope between comedy and drama skillfully enough to make either aspect work as well as it should.

Violence Hitch would have found way beyond what's necessary. Horror fans will find effective shivers, though.

Fans of Jacquelyn Mitchard's novel may find enough echoes of the book to justify the price of admission. But others can see this sort of thinly crafted melodrama in TV movies every week. For free.

A pleasant experience, if not the dazzling entertainment Lopez fans were hoping for.

Much of the style strains too hard to be cute, but true romantics may shed copious tears of sympathy and empathy.

Like a nincompoop version of "The Usual Suspects."

Colorful and cute. It would be better if it weren't quite so sitcommy and if it didn't outlast its ideas.

It doesn't have a speck of authentic heart -- you can bet its Hollywood creators wouldn't move to Alabama if their lives depended on it -- but if you belong to the growing legion of Witherspoon worshippers, this is definitely the movie of the week.

Slow, beautifully filmed, Nolte's Jefferson implausible.

With its ingenious camera style, keenly dramatic music score, and brash yet indomitable humor, Do the Right Thing is the richest and most thought-provoking portrait of underclass experience that Hollywood has ever given us.

Eddie Murphy does his patented routines effectively, and the dialogue has some pungent moments, but the movie doesn't succeed as the "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" update it would like to be.

Enriched by allusions to biblical stories of fathers, sons, and sacrifices, subtly woven into the movie's moodily photographed fabric.

Barrymore and Busey walk away with the acting honors, but no aspect of the picture is more than mildly entertaining.

Caine puts all his formidable talent into pulling this off, but Jewison's directing and Roland Harwood's screenplay (based on Brian Moore's novel) provide a regrettably shaky foundation for him to build on.

The screenplay provides enough cute one-liners and love-struck speeches to give the comedy intermittent charm.

Resembles a fast-and-flashy variation on "The Sixth Sense," with touches of "The Matrix" as a bonus.

A promising feature-film debut.

Bridges is fun to watch, Fanning emerges as Hollywood's best 6-year-old actress, and Rogers's talents are wasted. A likable drama within its limitations.

Intended as a parody of B-movie fantasies from the '50s, this satire more directly lampoons kiddie thrillers like "Captain Video," putting it perilously close to the pop-culture trash it aims to mock.

Far from a great film, but it certainly stretches the envelope.

Too bad the acting is uneven. And the ineptly done English subtitles will have you laughing in all the wrong places.

True-blue golf buffs should find it a treat. For others it's no deeper than a tin cup on a putting green.

Some scenes are just silly, others are dead-on uproarious. Ditka, a real-life football legend, is a real find as our hero's assistant.

One of a kind, turning Foreman trademarks such as self-satirical acting and out-of-nowhere music into powerful elements of an outlandish story.

Judged by the standards of ordinary filmmaking, it's as strange, suggestive, and surreal as other Lynch pictures have been. Judged by the standards of Lynch's own career, however, it's amazingly stale and second-hand… [and] contains not a single moment of genuinely felt emotion. [1 Sept 1992]

As a movie, it's mediocre.

The result is fine fantasy fun.

Spoiled by its simplistic portrait of people from the Mideast as incorrigibly violent and untrustworthy.

Solomon keeps the drama generally clear and interesting, though some touches make the film-noir plot seem too pretentious.

While the production is attractive in a calendar-photo sort of way, there's not a speck of genuine feeling in its glossy images.

Based on a popular book by Betty MacDonald, the story is silly at best, woefully predictable at worst. MacMurray and Colbert are in excellent form, though, and Louise Albritton heads a colorful cast of supporting players. [14 Oct 1987, p.21]

Taylor is utterly believable even when the screenplay (from an Anne Tyler novel) is too self-consciously quirky, and Pearce nicely portrays the guy she obsesses over.

While the story has few surprises, parts of it are amusing and the performances are convincing.

The movie is visually impressive, but Ishii's virtuoso style can't overcome the flatness of the comic-book story he's telling.

Polanski's directing is marvelously assured and Depp is always fun to watch.

Fiction and fantasy to evade reflection on the world we actually live in.

The result is what you might call a mass-audience art film. It doesn't entirely succeed, but it's certainly a change from today's standard mysteries and horror movies.

Boorman treats this moving, important subject with restraint, tact, and candid views of horrors suffered by the nation.

There's interesting material about Soviet history, but searching for answers about the revolutionary's spouse turns out to be less than engrossing.

Bravo works too hard at extolling Castro -- The film's historical footage is compelling, though, and provides plenty to think about.

Depardieu gives the story a firm center of gravity, aided by Joffé's eye for colorful settings and period detail.

The action is dynamically filmed and Willis is at his best. Suspense is soon hijacked by outright gore and grisliness, though.

Funny dialogue, crisp black-and-white cinematography, and a well-chosen cast of mostly stage-trained actors raise this eccentric fantasy a notch above the ordinary.

The best reason to see It Runs in the Family is the sight of unquenchable Kirk.

Kitano's first major comedy is loose and likable.

The pace of this Bolivia/US coproduction is slower than that of a snail, but it gathers some interest as the themes of the vignettes dovetail near the end.

The acting is endearing and the story has great charm before predictability and sentimentality eventually take over.

Long, bombastic, and violent, but fantasy fans may enjoy its fast-moving energy.

I'd like Head of State better if it had less cartoonish violence, and if its gags weren't so predictable. Rock is in fine comic form, though, and his directing debut shows real promise.

Much of the movie exploits its subject for low-grade laughs, but in the end it takes a foursquare stand against the sleazy business it portrays, exposing its capacity for decadence and degradation.

Weak acting, even by Hoffman. Aniston is so far above this material she should never, ever have signed on.

Philippe Rousselot's carefully shaded cinematography looks great, but the screenplay is pretentious and there's little to applaud in the top-heavy acting by John Malkovich and Julia Roberts.

Watts is wonderful, and the story's forsaken-child theme still has plenty of horrific power.

More psychological realism and less showy cinema would have made this offbeat melodrama more memorable.

Henderson steals the show as an elderly African-American man befriended by one of the main characters.

This visually inventive fantasy paints the wide screen with colorful effects, but its psychological and spiritual ideas rarely rise above "new age" fuzziness.

Shyamalan remains a stilted screenwriter, but Roger Deakins's cinematography is spooky, creepy, eerie all the way.

The movie catches occasional fire when Bridget suddenly says what's really on her mind. The rest is silliness.

Directed by Martin Sheen, the picture works hard to be socially and psychologically penetrating but doesn't quite make the grade. [15 Mar 1991, p.12]

Too chilly and distanced to build the emotional impact it would like to have.

Falls flat on screen, weighed down by far-fetched plot twists.

A mix of war film, road movie, and romantic comedy-drama, this peripatetic yarn is less resonant than Ghobadi's beautiful "A Time for Drunken Horses," but it has enough energy to keep your eyes popping and your toes tapping.

Like most movies aimed at the younger set, Racing Stripes has easily absorbable lessons to teach: Be yourself, never stop trying if your goal is worthwhile, and so forth.

Good acting and an effectively claustrophobic mood compensate for a story that doesn't add up to much in the long run.

Harrelson hits just the right sardonic note in this self-mocking crime drama, but look out for grisly touches along the way.

The comedy is often crass and crude, but it makes telling points about how much of "race" is more about the words and gestures we use than the actual colors of our skins.

The fact remains that some Treks are better than others, and ''The Final Frontier'' doesn't have the surprising warmth of the very best. It's diverting, but forgettable. [19 June 1989, p.15]

Uninspired thriller-comedy.

Lively acting and stylish directing make this an engaging comedy-drama, although its attitude toward guns and violence is disconcertingly romantic.

Has amusing bits of social satire, but they're crowded out of the stable by lots of bathroom and barnyard humor.

Sex, drugs, delirious camera work, and a great deal of noise are the foundations of this aggressively bizarre Australian production. [9 Oct 1987, p.21]

It's always hard to predict what Winterbottom will try next, but this experiment isn't worth repeating, the lively concert scenes notwithstanding. Be forewarned that the sexual scenes aren't simulated.

The story is irresponsible and the filmmaking is awful.

It delivers all the raunch and ribaldry its designated audience could hope for, but others may find it more deliberately disgusting than effervescently outrageous.

This is a quintessential Allen comedy: squirmy relationships, dark Jewish humor, an assumption that everybody in Manhattan has money and a touch of glamour, and -- as with most of Allen's movies since the first few years of his career -- not nearly as many laughs as it gamely tries for.

The story is less original than its setting - it knocks off everything from "Lord of the Flies" to "The Blair Witch Project" -and its unromantic moods may make DiCaprio's countless "Titanic" fans want to swim in the opposite direction.

The suspense sequences are straight from the standard Hollywood blueprint, and the movie as a whole is so sloppily assembled that it's almost incoherent at times.

This romantic adventure is corny fun, and it's amusing to hear Sean Connery's elegant Scottish accent jangle against Lorraine Bracco's feisty Bronx twang. The movie is more picturesque than memorable, though. [13 Feb 1992, p.13]

Although overlong, the picture has a fair measure of jolts and surprises.

The story is slow and corny, but Whitaker gives commendable dignity to his everyday characters, and the acting is emotionally strong as long as the male romantic interest (Connick) isn't around.

Woo's customary action-film pyrotechnics gather more substance than usual from the implausible but inventive plot, drawn from a Philip K. Dick story.

The murder-mystery plot is told in rough-and-tumble style, full of sound and fury but signifying almost nothing in the end.

Woody Harrelson, Randy Quaid, and Bill Murray give riotous performances, but be warned that the comedy is overloaded with gross-out humor from beginning to end.

The filmmakers can't decide what sort of picture they're trying to cook up, so they keep oscillating among shallow psychological drama, high-tech action sequences, and comedy scenes that are themselves an uneasy mixture of sitcom-style dialogue and self-mocking campiness.

Clumsy filmmaking and a hoked-up screenplay make this a strong contender for worst picture of the year. [13 Nov 1987, p.21]

The dialogue is utterly inane, but the high-tech effects deliver the sort of thrills that disaster-film connoisseurs expect.

Brest deserves credit for letting the story unfold at a thoughtful pace, but the drama falls apart in the last half-hour, gushing with exaggerated emotions and abandoning its fairy-tale premises for an unconvincing feel-good finale.

This sentimental drama is wildly uneven as it switches between ballpark scenes, which are very involving, and romantic episodes, which are badly overplayed.

Dumont's methods are radical, but there's a fascinating method to his seeming cinematic madness.

Whatever novelty this series ever possessed has gone down the proverbial tube. The actors are on autopilot, and Adam Herz's screenplay panders to its immature target audience so cravenly and relentlessly that it verges on incompetence.

Verhoeven's lurid thriller has moments of welcome self-parody, but most of the action manages to be sensationalistic, homophobic, and tedious at the same time. [20 Mar 1992, Arts, p.12]

Grodin is brilliant, though, practically stealing the movie without an extra word or unnecessary gesture. He's an uncommonly talented actor, and it's good to see him in a movie that gives him a chance to show his stuff. [22 July 1988]

Benton builds the yarn carefully, drawing us into a web of suspense with a string of deftly timed surprises. But after a while, you get the feeling you've seen this all before. [02 Dec 1982, p.19]

Joseph Zito directed this cheap exercise in hate, suspicion, and mayhem. [06 Dec 1984, p.50]

What emerges most strongly, though, is a staggering degree of ignorance among everyday Americans about the basic meanings of democracy, liberty, and national security. [20 Aug 2004, p.15]

MESSAGE Nuclear blackmail is a horrible crime but can be defeated by vigilant and courageous authorities.

The drama is likably low-key but builds little excitement, and Bowie's star billing says more about the power of his agent than the number of scenes he appears in.

Alas, the movie isn't nearly as amusing as its premise, but it's refreshingly different from most run-of-the-mill teenage fare.

Wilson is the main reason to see The Big Bounce, where he's perfect as a reasonably smart guy who often seems to have no idea what he's getting into. The other reasons are a solid supporting cast.

If you want a movie time trip, the 1960 version is a far smoother ride.

Raising Cain will delight cinephiles with keen eyes and strong stomachs, but general audiences may find it more bothersome than brilliant. [10 Aug 1992, p.11]

Brody has offbeat charisma, but it's no match for the corny dialogue he's given here, not to mention the "Wild at Heart" snakeskin jacket he wears.

Endearingly silly, but nowhere near as original or amusing as Pee-wee's Big Adventure a couple of years ago. [22 Jul 1988, p.19]

The story isn't nearly as funny or suspenseful as it would like to be, although the solid cast gives it occasional dashes of pizazz.

Imagine a sexually charged "Heart of Darkness" by way of Denmark's bare-bones Dogme 95 and you'll have an idea of what this dark, moody melodrama is like.

John Turteltaub directed the drama, which lapses into medical jargon and new-age clichés near the end, but it scores telling points with its respect for intelligence and optimistic view of human potential.

Bullock is cute. Grant is even cuter. They have the timing and panache of a first-rate comedy team.

The screenplay is so stale that even fans of the previous "Jurassic" installments might think this is one clone too many.

Lots of filmmakers, lots of opportunities, lots of bad taste, very few laughs. [25 Sept 1987, p.23]

The idea of a Woody Allen movie about fame is enticing, but a meandering screenplay and uninspired acting make this one of his thinnest, tinniest films.

Kids may yawn at the movie's dawdling pace.

The topic is thought-provoking, the flashback-based structure is interesting, and there are surprising twists near the end. But there's also an overdose of sentimentality that badly dilutes the picture's impact.

The movie has almost enough corny appeal to offset its lack of originality, though, and Walken is fun as Cagliostro, the court's great prognosticator and all-around weirdo.

The film contains so many endings that it's hard to tell what impressions the filmmakers want us to leave the theater with. Buy a copy of the book instead. It remains an excellent read.

Armageddon may sell tickets, thanks largely to a high-powered marketing machine that's been conducting its own countdown for the past several months. But it's not a pretty picture.

At heart, this is an old-fashioned monster flick decked out with Hollywood's full battery of high-tech visual effects. It's as goofy as it is gory -- stay away if you don't like in-your-face mayhem.

Tries to be a new "Something Wild"; ends up being tamer than tame.

The Haunting can't quite decide whether it's an out-and-out thriller, a psychological drama, or a systematic demonstration of the latest computer-generated effects. But it should attract big crowds for a weekend or two on the strength of its attractive stars and deliciously spooky setting.

Serial killing and other insanity in the French countryside, with ineptly dubbed English dialogue.

The story has more violence than brains, but Hong Kong action star Chow makes an interestingly moody impression in his first Hollywood role.

A very uneven dark comedy.

The movie is very small in scale, but the performances are appealing and Fernandez's screenplay casts an interesting light on the main characters' self-images as Latina women.

If the Warner Bros. wizards have it right, what a girl wants is to see as much of Amanda Bynes as she possibly can...It's not so great for the rest of us, since the film has nothing else to offer.

The movie is as adolescent as it sounds, but Kahn keeps your eyes popping with truly nonstop action and some of the most outlandishly inventive effects you've ever seen. And of course Cube is so supercool it's worth the price of admission just to watch him.

Perhaps they truly believe war is an inescapable aspect of human life. If so, why make movies that rub our faces in its horror? If artists have no antidote to war's evil or insight into the suffering it brings, their motive in depicting it must be merely to sensationalize its terrors and make money from the morbid fascination it holds for audiences. We deserve better.

McClelland is a joy to watch, even when the story strains too hard for lovable whimsy, which happens much too often.

The movie takes fascinating material and transforms it into a routine soap opera.

Mostly trite and tacky despite Robin Williams's strenuous acting.

The action ranges from mildly humorous to merely vulgar; and far too many of the laughs revolve around racially crude confrontations between sweet, blond Goldie and denizens of the big, bad ghetto. [10 March 1986, p.33]

A deluge of funny, inane jokes.

The repetitious script -- cobbled together by no fewer than five writers -- shows interest in nothing beyond action-centered plot gimmicks and tame romantic shenanigans.

De Niro and Hoffman almost give comic life to this brainless, vulgar farce.

Like its subject, the movie is a tad overzealous, but often fascinating and revealing.

Lachow goes for cuteness and whimsy every chance he gets, missing a lot more often than he hits.

Goodman's comic delivery gets maximum mileage from a few amusing situations, though.

The picture repeats itself a lot, but Dash is a good sport in poking barbed fun at the PR machinations of today's music business.

The more the picture reveals, the less interesting it gets, transforming its hero from an intriguing mystery man into a standard-issue screen vigilante -- and steadily upping the violence, complete with harrowing torture scenes, in a lame effort to keep our juices flowing.

Christopher Hampton's film conveys the basic plot of Joseph Conrad's sinuous novel but loses the book's sardonic tone and psychological depth.

A gripping documentary, although we learn too little of the relationship between the filmmaker and his subjects.

Its most impressive aspect is its visual style, patterned to some degree on Sergio Leone westerns. A picture this long and dense should work harder to be cogent and coherent, though.

At once dreamily surreal, acutely intelligent, and strikingly tough-minded, this pitch-dark dramatic comedy recalls David Lynch and "Donnie Darko" while remaining fresh and original to its core. A stunning directorial debut.

As a frightfest it's better than today's average.

It soon gets down to its real business: fights, face-offs, and showdowns mired in the shallowest sort of Hollywood machismo.

It's a standard science-fantasy fable, but the visual effects are mighty impressive.

Based on Bennett's own experiences, the movie has no penetrating insights to offer, but it's acted and directed in an improvisational spirit well-suited to its ultra-low budget and digital-video technology.

Lively, colorful, violent, stupid.

This unevenly paced comedy is an amusing parody of monster movies from "Them!" to "Alien."

It's bold, and big, and even beautiful at times. That's more than most recent movies can claim. [26 Aug 1982, p.19]

Numbingly violent action.

The acting and crooning are sadly uneven, making this a shaky comeback vehicle for the screen musical.

The story is so sentimental that even soap-opera buffs may feel it outwears its welcome.

John Schlesinger has directed Mark Frost's screenplay with great technical skill, constructing highly charged suspense scenes. Robby Muller's cinematography also stands out. The violence is disgusting even by recent standards, though, especially since much of it is aimed at children. And the portrait of a barbarous Afro-Hispanic religion will hardly ease tensions in this time when racism and xenophobia are already rampant. [12 Jun 1987, p.21]

It's fun to watch superheroes who aren't quite at ease with their abilities, but "The Incredibles" - last year's similarly themed animated film - is livelier and funnier.

It's astounding that the ingenious creator of "JFK" and "Wall Street" could make an epic on war and empire that's so utterly simplistic and unreflective.

The unchanneled energy of Robin Williams can't redeem this messy yarn.

Too bad the clever bits are swamped by no-brainer gunfights, rescues, and chases galore.

You'll enjoy this sentimental drama if you feel good intentions are their own reward, at least where movies are concerned; but it'll exasperate you if you want your entertainment to have some connection with the world we actually live in.

The first hour is eloquent and true. Once the story takes its big turn toward tragedy, though, it becomes predictable and sentimental.

A View to a Kill plods along dutifully, observing the rules of the series with dull consistency.

Denis's pungent images create a nightmarish mood but don't bring full artistic coherence to her odd mix of gothic horror and postmodern reverie.

All the good points together can't make up for the film's mostly soggy acting, particularly by Sean Young and Matt Dillon in the leading roles, or for the technically inept way the voices have been dubbed over the picture - the characters sound like they're reading their lines from a phone booth. Even second-rate Hollywood movies generally have a certain amount of craft and professionalism, but there's precious little here. I say, kiss this one goodbye. [17 May 1991, p.13]

Too crisp and calculated to match the moods of its wild and woolly characters, and its interwoven subplots lead to predictable outcomes.

The action is as grisly as it is surrealistic.

Although there's quite a bit of nudity and sex, the potentially sensationalistic story is acted with sincerity and directed with a creative eye.

The movie is lively, funny, and endearing until melodramatics and sentimentality take over in the last few scenes.

The movie has homophobic touches, though, and with so many Asian characters, some viewers may wonder why every single one is portrayed as either a hapless victim or a wicked villain.

This belated "reimagining" is as beguiling as a dried-out palm tree.

The animated action holds few surprises for grown-ups, but the cute characters and fetching designs should enthrall young children. [14 Aug 1987, p.23]

The movie's real spectacle is the sight of so many talented people slogging through such idiotic material.

The comically tinged action is as lively as it is brainless, and it revels in violence a bit less eagerly than many thrillers of its ilk.

Socially committed realism and screwball comedy don't mix easily. That's the main reason that Teachers is a mess. [02 Nov 1984, p.25]

It's about time Eastwood and Reynolds faced off - and I, for one, am glad they do it with barely hidden smiles. [06 Dec 1984, p.49]

Murphy gives one of his more-restrained performances, which suits the mood of carefully contained mayhem established by Steve Carr, the director.

The movie morphs into a deconstructed remake of "Indecent Exposure" and it's downright riveting, with Campbell doing her best acting to date.

The story is likable if not memorable, and the Chinese settings lend the basically ordinary plot a touch of novelty.

Its ideas are worth pondering, but as a movie it's less memorable than its interesting cast suggests.

As featherweight as its title, but Lyonne gives a winning performance and the mischievous story packs a few good laughs.

Annie turns out to be a reasonably entertaining movie.

Petroni's directorial debut is too bittersweet and atmospheric for its own good, wrapping a potentially strong story in too many layers of misty emotion.

Some slow and vulgar moments aside, it's a minor treat for viewers who don't mind keeping their expectations low. [11 Oct 1985, p.25]

This indirect rehash of "To Catch a Thief" trades Hitchcockian shrewdness for the slickest kinds of Hollywood glitz, gloss, and vulgarity.

It seems to have had the opposite effect on the director's taste, as she strives for new levels of raunchiness.

A lot more violent and a tad less creepy than the 1974 original, the much-changed remake delivers enough gory, belligerent mayhem to keep horror fans screaming.

No amount of technical skill can substitute for genuine shivers, and in the fright department this picture rarely lives up to its hype.

The special effects are extra special. The screenplay is idiotic, though, and Diesel speaks his dialogue like a Sylvester Stallone clone who never finished third grade.

Nora Ephron's comedy tries to be sweet, hip, innocent, and sophisticated all at the same time, and it doesn't take long for these contradictory goals to cancel one another out.

The movie will disappoint people expecting a genuine superhero epic or an over-the-top spoof. But those in the mood for an offbeat satire with a gifted cast will have a surprisingly good time.

This fact-based drama is very well-meaning but also cloying, sentimental, and simplistic. Gooding's fake-toothed grin deserves an Oscar for best makeup, though.

This throwback to the outmoded blaxploitation genre is skillfully filmed by Dickerson, but has little else to offer besides cheap, violent thrills.

The star's over-the-top energy isn't enough to make this hopelessly vulgar, numbingly repetitious farce worth watching.

Poor writing and directing are the culprits - and whatever possessed the gifted Moore to make her role a nonstop Diane Keaton imitation? There oughta be a law!

Great premise, but the ensuing trials and tribulations - not to mention hapless attempts at comedy - are as off-key as a karaoke scene in which Hudson sounds worse than any audition Simon Cowell has ever had to sit through.

There are many tantalizing bits, but the overall result is a simplistic story wrapped in barely explained quantum physics and new-age sound bites. Fascinating and frustrating in about equal measure.

The action is fast, furious, and occasionally quite funny.

The film has enough wild driving to satisfy any "French Connection" fan or "Bullitt" buff, but there's precious little for anyone else to enjoy. 2 foolish + 2 flashy = 4 get it!

Robin Williams is no Fred MacMurray, but he plays the hero with his customary energy.

Tennant's featherweight comedy is clearly pitched at the date-movie crowd, and couples may enjoy it if they can get past the picture's simplistic ethnic stereotypes and its willingness to wish away every real-life family problem the characters will surely face after the feel-good finale.

Don't expect much from the scratch-and-sniff "odorama" gimmick; the mischievous John Waters set a higher standard for that novelty in "Polyester" (1981).

If you're in the mood for razor-sharp satire, this is the most refreshingly outrageous movie of the season.

The movie has promise as a psychological thriller, but the filmmakers show far more interest in chases and shoot-outs than characters and ideas.

There's more than enough gruesomeness to keep hard-core horror fans screaming, but others should stay a million miles away - or 2 million, if spiders make you squirm. [12 Jun 1998, p.B2]

Too many clichés and too much uneven acting dilute its impact.

As clumsy as its title.

Stoner jokes, awful gags, and just stupid stuff equate to one bad movie.

Great cast, great atmosphere, little sense or first-rate suspense.

Only part of it is in 3-D, but youngsters should enjoy pulling their special specs on and off at appropriate moments.

A director of Frankenheimer's stature deserves less sensationalistic material, and so does his audience.

Daft, excessive, boring.

This isn't a Ferrara classic like "King of New York," but even his less- memorable pictures carry an eccentric kick no other director could duplicate.

Coil up with a tub of popcorn, get a stranglehold on your soda - this is a creepy, action-packed boat ride down a jungle river with lots of huge snakes dropping by for man-sized snacks.

The overlong comedy has few laughs and flirts far too much with racist, homophobic humor. A waste of a fine cast.

Filmmakers run out of ideas long before the final.

Most of the movie is standard action fare, but the political commentary is interesting when it's allowed to surface.

It's fun to watch for a while. But the movie runs much too long, and a few funny bits aside, most of the comedy writing is lame.

The screenplay aims high in terms of humanity and complexity, but director Hoge drains it of energy with listless meanderings that provide more yawns than insights.

Let's look at the bright side. If this movie bombs as it deserves to, we won't have to sit through "Analyze Those" a few years from now!

Danny Boyle's dark comedy has stylishly filmed moments, but overall it's a queasy blend of amusing, pointless, and sometimes quite nasty material.

Figgis brings strong visual imagination to the first hour, but he can't rescue Richard Jefferies's screenplay from plot holes bigger than the manor itself.

Audiences may want their own speedy divorce from this irritating collection of stale jokes, pointless vulgarities, and warmed-over clichés.

The last scenes etch one of the most revealing depictions of capital punishment ever put on the wide screen.

Crammed with show-biz jokes that younger kids won't fathom, but the action is so quick and colorful that they probably won't mind.

This superficial treatment makes so many dubious decisions - oversimplifying issues, for instance, so there'll be more time for high-flying emotion - that 1960s veterans may be moved to protest rather than praise.

A spicy critique of tabloid TV is buried in romantic-comedy material that strains too hard for cuteness. Ditto for Murphy's acting.

You thought brawny Bruce Willis couldn't play a brainy psychologist? You were right. Or maybe it's the idiocy of the movie surrounding him that sinks his performance long before the halfway mark.

Hovering between "Last Action Hero" and "E.T.," this sci-fi extravaganza is bookended with violence but has some gentle moments in between.

It will be interesting to see whether audiences embrace Mr. Diesel's barely controlled vigilante as warmly as they embraced Clint Eastwood's swaggering "Dirty Harry" and Charles Bronson's nasty "Death Wish" characters a few decades ago.

Salomon directed the silly but diverting action yarn, which benefits from the talents of Freeman, Quaid, Driver, and White.

The drama makes up in intellectual weight what it sometimes lacks in psychological interest and cinematic realism.

The action is snappy and quick, but why does this youth-targeted adventure pit white male heroes against a trio of villains comprising a black man, an Asian man, and an ugly woman?

Plenty of mad moviegoers will put this in their diaries as one of the worst pictures in ages.

This visually intricate fantasia combines his (Greenaway's) extraordinary cinematic imagination with a story and characters less compelling than those in his best works.

The only aspect that emerges a winner is the gorgeous Mediterranean scenery.

The plot is sordid and predictable -- indiscriminate nightclubbing leads to escalating drugs, promiscuity, and violence. Things perk up cinematically in the last few scenes, but by then it's almost too late.

Four chuckles and a lively final-credits sequence are a mighty poor score for 99 minutes of alleged comedy, and the sentimental stuff is even worse.

A country singer wagers that she can teach her trade to a New York cabbie, with predictable results. Directed by Bob Clark, who mostly exploits the presold personalities of stars Dolly Parton and Sylvester Stallone.

The satire is intermittently amusing, but Arcand adds little to the arsenal of standard mockumentary tricks, and the interesting cast doesn't get many interesting things to do.

Darkly elegant cinematography helps compensate for awful dialogue and lackluster acting.

It's a pity that such vital, thought-provoking material has been rendered so lifeless and inauthentic on the screen.

Less an American product than an international escapade, it's the kind of pigeonhole-resisting romp that Hollywood too rarely provides.

It's all very colorful, but the movie's diverse elements clash as often as they cooperate.

The comedy is appealing as Hollywood's umpteenth variation on the Cinderella story, but think about its patrician views of upper-class privilege and you might find it too simplistic for comfort.

How did a dignified pro like Duvall get stuck in this fender-bender?