Derek Elley

Despite engaging performances from a cast led by Matthew Rhys and Kate Ashfield and pro direction by first-timer Richard Janes, yarn about art grifters lacks real snap, which ultimately stems from the so-so script and lack of real coin.

Largely thanks to the snappy editing, short scenes and a strong cast led by a matronly Deveuve and Amalric's enjoyable perf as the black sheep of the family, A Christmas Tale never devolves into a tedious two-and-a-half hours of self-examination. But it also never goes very far, either.

A seductively lensed but emotionally uninvolving drama about two male Peking Opera stars and the ex-prostie who comes between them, Chen Kaige's fourth feature, Farewell to My Concubine, reps a stylistic U-turn compared with his earlier abstract parables like Life on a String and Yellow Earth.

Though tastily lensed and with a convincing cast led by Cillian Murphy, essentially small-scale picture lacks the involving sweep of Loach's earlier historical-political yarn, "Land and Freedom."

Has almost zero plot but molto mood. It will appeal to the most faithful of the director's camp-followers and no one else.

Pic's potentially inspiring story too often remains grounded by a problematic script and unshapely direction.

Ultimately, this is a striking-looking film -- consciously recalling the paintings of Edward Hopper in its architectural use of space -- which, like its protag, is a little short on real feeling.

Despite its merits, is neither an art movie nor an out-and-out, propulsive actioner like "Shiri."

Fourth feature by Mainland helmer Lou Ye ("Suzhou River," "Purple Butterfly") shoots for metaphysical drama but ends up saying very little beneath all the poetic voiceovers, sexual encounters and political seasoning.

Often nastily violent, and defiantly foul-mouthed in a realistic but dramatically unnecessary way, this portrait of a ruthless young hood in '60s London has several fine qualities but dilutes them with disorganized direction.

The overall effect simply underlines the central weakness of the pic: that the neo-kitschy futuristic scenes don't add much to the real-life '60s relationships.

Devoid of genuine inspiration or involving character development.

Immaculately shot and composed as always, and moving at Ceylan's usual measured pace, this one is slightly enlivened by more likable perfs and a trim 98-minute running time.

What the picture most needed was a complete cinematic rethink and, yes, even some action to move it along.

One of the most highly crafted pics in recent memory, and certainly the most original in vision of the 23 features competing at Cannes this year, Songs From the Second Floor rapidly wears out its welcome after the first few reels to finish up as a perplexing objet d'art.

Admirably balanced production that pulls the curtain back slightly on a little-charted period of modern Chinese history.

Despite its large cast and complex criss-crossing from past to present, the movie rarely catches fire as an involving human drama.

A portrait of a contempo British family drifting apart because of generational differences, The Mother ends up an uneasy brew of too many competing tastes and themes.

Result is far more accessible than Jia's previous two pictures, with moments of genuine emotion by the real-life interviewees.

A haunted-house one-trick pony.

Pleasant and engaging, rather than laugh-out-loud funny or emotionally involving.

Makes engrossing viewing for much of the way...but stumbles dramatically in its final leg.

There's no shortage of existing docus on the subject, and Panh's doesn't bring either a fresh enough angle or enough new material to the table to justify its length.

A thinly scripted mood piece centered on an estranged fortysomething among vacationing friends in Italy, Unrelated doesn’t carry the viewer along with its protag’s emotional problems.

Script is sometimes confusingly structured, and in its second half doesn't move as smoothly from scene to scene as in Kim's best pics.

Davaa's strong visual sense, engaging cast and respect for basic film grammar make this slim exercise in managed reality go the distance.

Gorgeously mounted, but butt-numbingly slow.

The movie plays like a career summation in which the 68-year-old writer-director has simply run out new ideas.