Desson Thomson

Director Roger Michell and writer Hanif Kureishi take a deeper, edifying interest in the moral ambiguities that arise between Maurice and Jessie. And thanks to our warm investment in both characters, we're more than willing to sign up for this existential ride. We allow this relationship -- and the movie -- to take us places we'd never usually go.

A touching documentary.

FernGully is neither weighty nor whiny. It sings its message unobtrusively through -- and for -- the trees. And most importantly, it never forgets to be delightful, for children and their moviegoing guardians.

Remains highly watchable throughout, for its atmosphere and the actors.

The real deity of the movie is director Woo, who takes complete command of the latest technology -- hyperspeed editing, breathtaking cinematography, 10-out-of-10 stunt work -- to create brilliant action sequences.

You don't have to love WWF scrapping to appreciate this movie.

A smoothly executed jab in your solar plexus, a lean, smart film noir that pokes at you with quintessentially English disdain and sarcasm.

A delightful, wholesome experience for the family.

In this extended good time of a fairy tale, there's something for everyone.

We have been treated to something we normally would never get in a prison comedy like this: a little delicacy with the humor.

It's funny! It's not Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night" or anything, but it's pretty darned good!

If it lacks a certain fuzzy warmth, Kinsey makes up for the shortfall with spirited and (for a commercial movie) amazingly candid vigor. It's an alert, lively movie with a crackling performance by Liam Neeson.

It's an exhilarating sparring match between Duvall's workmanlike fine-tuning and Penn's raw energy. [15 Apr 1988]

Roach knows to play to the movie's twin strengths: Stiller and De Niro. Throw these guys together, turn up the intensity.

In this comedy, Cecile misinterprets husband Alain's furtive attempt to have himself medically tested as suspicious extramarital behavior.

Mirren's finely calibrated performance reveals a complex woman coping with a bewildering world, and Blair's growing sympathy for his beleaguered monarch gradually becomes ours. This nuanced compassion may not impress the real Queen Elizabeth II, but, for us commoners, it makes for a richer experience.

If The Madness of King George, which Bennett adapted for the screen, dilutes some of the play's articulate intensity, it still conveys the drama's essential spirit. King George-the-movie also has the supreme advantage of Nigel Hawthorne, who originated the role of George on stage. His subtly calibrated performance, as he undergoes emotional rages, bouts of dementia and sudden attacks of lucidity, provide the film's most amusing and touching moments.

Sensual, funny and, in the end, very touching.

There's such a sense of overall intensity, you know you have been though something powerful.

May be morally tangled, pessimistic, lurid and foreboding, but it's also humanistic.

Subtly riotous.

For the right audience, this movie is the butt-kicking, dirt-talking, blood-spurting equivalent of beautiful music.

Robert De Niro is one extended pleasure in Midnight Run -- a real actor putting his considerable talent to work in a well-scripted comedy. And he's more than complemented by Charles Grodin, a brilliant comic performer who has been wasted up to now in small roles or lousy movies. [22 July 1988]

A heartbreaker, plain and simple.

Extraordinary documentary.

The movie finds charming humor in a world full of sectarian strife between Protestant and Catholic.

Mostly a string of talking-head interviews, but those talking heads -- more than 16 men and women -- are compelling.

Flanders, which takes us from the rustic heartland of northern France to the killing fields of an unnamed foreign locale, has such a primitive poetry, we are moved even by its most gruesome moments.

What makes this movie deeply fascinating is the fight Haskell wages. As the semi-willing subject of this movie, he's determined to gain the upper hand or, at least, come out somewhat sympathetic.

A relaxed delight, a series of delicately tongue-in-cheek musings about the clash between American and French cultures.

The funniest scenes involve Jim and his father, thanks to the brilliant, improvisational skills of Eugene Levy.

Doesn't just bring you to the edge of the hopeless zone, it takes you right into its homes where the children play.

Director James Bridges (a last-minute replacement for Joyce Chopra) infuses this Manhattan drug-recovery tale with an appropriate rush of humor, pounding dance-club music and breakneck momentum.

The screenplay (which is credited to a small crowd: director Michael Radford, Anna Pavignano, Furio Scarpelli, Giacomo Scarpelli and Troisi) is refreshingly witty and restrained.

As with many of his films, Rudolph creates an oyster of a work. You need to jimmy a little around the edges before its delicate wonder becomes apparent - which it does, beautifully.[23 Dec 1994, p.36]

Swedish director Mikael Hafstrom creates a compelling ride of a movie. Every beat of the film is weighted with significance, and our mounting dread becomes almost intolerable.

An assured directorial debut that goes straight for the tear ducts.

The most assured of the three films.

Crystal’s deadpan expressions and one liners interlock perfectly with Williams’s multiple personalities and verbal asides. They’re like basketball all-stars flipping no-look passes, trading slam-dunks and practically chest-bumping each other. Director Ivan Reitman doesn’t have to do more than keep time.

It's the moviegoing equivalent of great eating.

Amusing and inventive.

A special weapon unto itself. Spring-loaded with cockney esprit, it peppers its audience with aggressive, sarcastic grapeshot. That's English for "fun," by the way.

This is as good a visual treat as you and your kids can expect.

Good movie, great fun.

The film becomes a modest delight.

Rather wonderful to sit through. It's fluff with flavor. And a cell phone.

Before this voyage plummets into Stevie Spielberg's locker, the human stuff is more than worth the descent.

A heart-stirrer at times. More often, it's a heartbreaker.

While he dithers around in search of a movie and a theme, Moskowitz meets intriguing people -- almost all of them older men. And because they are hungry readers, they have interesting things to say.

Something to get excited about.

Crossing should be watched not because it's their finest achievement (that's still to come), but because the brothers are keeping things refreshingly different and building a career, their minds still very much fixed on originality.

Famed script doctor Tom Mankiewicz, in his directorial debut, creates the required breakneck car chases, stunt tumbles, major crowd scenes and SWAT gunfire around Aykroyd and Hanks. We're essentially watching 48 Hours or Beverly Hills Cop, only with different funny people. Plus the script is a gold mine of one-liners penned by Aykroyd, Mankiewicz and ex-Saturday Night Live writer Alan Zweibel.

Movie is over-the-top but enjoyable entertainment.

Thanks to Schlesinger's exacting direction and Malcolm Bradbury's witty, restrained script, these characters are kept more amusing than horribly pitiable.

It's a thrill to listen to the seasoned survivors offering witty, evocative anecdotes about themselves and others.

Take this trip with him and chances are, you'll find the journey increasingly funny and touching.

Doesn't try to be more than what it is: a romantic fantasy caper.

Director Itami has produced an engaging cinematic hybrid, brilliantly stir-frying Japanese food -- and other -- obsessions into cowboy themes. He calls Tampopo a noodle western.

Despite its fragmentary, seat-of-the-pants plot, Chungking Express abounds with staccato style and frenetic charm. It's the cinematic equivalent of popcorn on a hot stove. There are "jump-cut" shots, freeze frames, stirring (and often beautiful) images and a general sense of boundless energy, all of which capture perfectly the Zeitgeist of Hong Kong society. [15 Mar 1996, p.N43]

Retains (and in many cases, boosts) as much of the spirit [of the book] as you could reasonably expect. And it makes a worthy attempt to duplicate Rowling's engaging sense of humor.

Short but powerful drama.

This is wonderful stuff, as far as it goes.

Roundly entertaining.

So unambiguously good-natured it feels like something fresh.

Lee, who made the upbeat "Eat Drink Man Woman," plays this double love story as brightly as possible. There's peppy social satire in the smallest of gestures.

It won't be long before you feel the compulsion to watch again. There is too much to appreciate in one sitting.

Del Toro has made a ghost story that's not only evocative and original, it's a pleasure to watch.

Settle into your seat for an enjoyable movie.

Think of this movie as a glorified home video rather than a bitingly insightful documentary. But for Garcia and Grisman, this soft-shoe approach couldn't be more appropriate.

Chabrol arranges his story with a subtle, almost clinical accumulation. And it takes close attention to the movie's seemingly innocuous details to understand his deeper purposes.

Its easygoing, disarming air will endear it to its target audience, who will appreciate this movie as much for the lifestyle it depicts as its actual story.

Absolutely refuse to make predictable patterns in the sand. Instead, they set their characters loose.

That cameraderie is bound to appeal to women looking for a howlingly trashy time.

The Pang brothers bring you into a surrealistically memorable ghost world of the beyond. It's also refreshing to have two forceful young women (Mun and Ling) at the center of the story.

It's a warm, often funny reunion of the sassiest, chattiest characters ever to buzz a brother's head. You'll like this one more than you'd expect.

Between the movie's frenetic bursts of energy, however, there's more than enough to enjoy, assuming you're not a Dahl purist. The best thing about the movie is actress Mara Wilson (who many will recognize from her role in Mrs. Doubtfire). With sleep bags under her bright eyes, and an array of facial expressions that ranges from shocked to mischievous, she looks as though she belongs in a Dahl-like world. [02 Aug 1996, p.N29]

One artist's moving tribute to another.

Tomorrow Never Dies isn't one of the great Bonds, by any means. But it's familiar, flashy and enjoyable in all the right places.

Garrone's movie finds a disconcerting niche between edgy character thriller and black comedy.

The movie's much more than a castor-oil feminist message about self-realization, bad old Dad and all those awful men. The performances take care of that.

As a Coen brothers fan I hate to say this, but the movie's a collection of great bits and pieces rather than a complete work.

Although the movie loses power in its final sections, the performances, writing and Richard Pearce's direction transform this shaky idea into something rewarding.

There's a collective scintillation about its rich, distinctive characters, narrative serendipity and ineffable magic.

As a movie, this is exciting stuff.

Recycles the great surprises that made the first movie so powerful. And most significantly, it makes a big hoot of the whole business.

We are hooked into a low-tech but compelling dynamic -- between relatively static images and McElwee's sensitive, connective narrative.

A crazy, intentionally ludicrous movie that's a lot of film-noir fun.

Davis, who won an Oscar for Best Documentary, may not have agreed with presidents Kennedy, Johnson and Nixon on the war, but he heeded Johnson's call to fight for hearts and minds. His aim was dead on target.

The grimness of the movie becomes not only too unbearable, its point is clear about halfway through. After that, everything comes across as redundant retreading of the same perspective. But for atmosphere, great cinematography and eye-opening directness, this movie can't be beat.

There's every reason to watch Bread and Roses for what Loach really does best: He involves us directly in the desperate lives of his characters, who are forced to live without security and who have to compromise to make ends meet. And, above all, who feel as real as moviemaking allows.

It's painstakingly paced, but it's also entrancing.

But if "Reality" is full of twentysomething Esperanto, it's perfectly understandable -- and enjoyable -- to anyone who speaks humor. While its age ceiling seems a little low at times (at least, for this old man), the comedy constantly breaks through. There's a rousing, engaging spirit on the loose, more than emphasized by 32 songs on the soundtrack. This is an MTV-era movie: If you don't get it, as they say of a certain newspaper, you don't get it.

When you’re through watching The Daytrippers, you think about its minor imperfections, not because the film’s bad, but because it’s so good.

A peppy, satisfying comedy that could soon become a minor classic

If Southpaw leaves you hungry, this much is also true: The "food" was good in the first place.

If there's anyone who can make this ordeal -- and when you're plumb out of characters, it can be an ordeal -- tolerable, and even entertaining, it's Hanks.

The movie has many of the elements that made the first "Dawn" so darkly entertaining.

A pleasure because of zany developments like this, and a healthy dose of amusing characters.

This is pretty much a feel-good film for committed fans and moviegoers looking for some spectacular combination of travelogue, athleticism and slo-mo grace.

I laughed. And I laughed primarily over Heder's hilarious performance. You ain't seen nothing till you've seen Napoleon attack that tether ball.

The story that emerges has elements of romance, tragedy and even silent-movie comedy.

The movie is bracing, bleak and funny, assuming you can appreciate the comedy in a story full of lowlifes, lushes and losers.

A mature human farce that values characters' foibles over their firearms.

A psychic journey deep into the very fabric of Iranian (and by extension, all) life.

The movie's not heavyhanded about this coming of moral age; the revelations unfurl in subtle ways. What Bernal and this well-wrought movie convey so well is the charisma that would soon become a part of human history.

A triumphant return to the icky, otherworldly eerieness that graced such earlier Cronenberg works as "Scanners," "Videodrome" and "Dead Ringers."

The commercial transition has been remarkably successful. This is primarily thanks to Rodriguez, who not only retains the original movie's kinetic flair, but takes it further.

This is a compelling cautionary tale hot-wired to your gag reflex.

Above all, the movie's funny and wicked fun.

Never intends to be deeper than a magician's hat, and its wonderfully low-tech stop-motion technique is not only a nod to Czech animator Jan Svankmajer but a tacit rebuke to computer-graphics-heavy fantasies such as "The Chronicles of Narnia" or the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy.

Malkovich and Sinise, who worked together in Chicago's Steppenwolf Theatre (which Sinise co-founded), are touching and pleasurable together. Malkovich's portrayal of big, simple naif Lennie will attract the most attention, yet he is remarkably restrained, skirting the dangerous fence between verisimilitude and sheer ham. But Sinise, in the quieter, caretaking role, achieves at least as much.

Even though this will not go down as a great Zucker comedy, he has made Rat Race funnier than it could reasonably hope to be.

Gives refreshing -- and bittersweet -- dimension to the age-old clash between generations.

Savvy without being smug, cute without being saccharin, and funny without slipping into over-the-top goofiness, this is a 14th-century good time.

This often macabre comedy allows us to doff such civilized traits as taste and decency. We're free to laugh at anything, and we do. Oh, the shame -- and the good time.

A problematic movie, based on a problematic book, that's not for everyone, and that might not even be for all the people it is meant for. Hmmm. Yet there's something fascinating about it and, believe me, it ain't the sex. Perhaps it's Irons's and Richardson's haunted performances, or Binoche's highly credible weirdness. Whatever it is, compared to the likes of "Top Gun" and "Basic Instinct," "Damage" is far more compelling and far less false.

Though Lust, Caution resounds with these disconcerting themes, it operates on the same principle that distinguishes all lasting romances, be they "Wuthering Heights," "Casablanca" or "When Harry Met Sally."

And if the movie's not particularly visual -- apart from the excerpted scenes from Fellini's extremely visual films -- it's entertaining for the ears. Fellini talks and talks. And like many directors, he talks a good life.

This banquet is the glorious finale of Gabriel Axel's Babette's Feast, his handsome, understated adaptation of the Isak Dinesen short story.

As exciting for its narrative twists and turns as for its Korean textures and rhythms.

Speaking of Jane, Minnie Driver gets the big banana for top off-screen performance. She brims over with prissiness and pep, tenderness and visionary appreciation.

To watch "Time" is not merely to marvel at the heavens we cannot yet know; it is also to admire Hawking, now 50, for approaching such daunting problems on a daily basis, despite every possible problem the cosmos can throw at him.

What is surprising is the beguiling, unpretentious result: "Little Buddha," a modern fable about a Seattle boy believed to be a reincarnated Buddhist teacher, endears the audience to the Tibetan doctrine with a glowing, almost Disneyesque panache.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves looks like big money. It has the stars, it's based on a classic (and foolproof) story and it's an exhilarating couple of hours. It fills the entertainment megabill utterly.

A highly watchable slice-of-low-life entertainment. If this isn't her best role, it's Dunaway's gutsiest.

Like Casablanca, Diva, Clockwork Orange and countless other quality-cult films, Prick Up Your Ears has an indefinable idiosyncrasy that makes you want to come back for more.

Beneath the sylvan trappings is a whodunit as riveting as any.

To watch Carrey leering with joy at the prospect of making respectable people guess dirty words, and Broderick trying to avoid the whole thing, is to enjoy their best comic synergy.

This Australian film by New Zealand director Jane Campion comes at you, and keeps coming at you, in peculiar, oddly enchanting bursts of detail.

Doom Generation is an 85-minute, darkly comic assault on the audience, laden with satirically over-the-top (and below-the-belt) violence, unending profanity and enough references to the posterior to fill a proctologic encyclopedia. Araki wants to serve up the sleaziest, crudest fare he can dream up. His efforts can only be described as successful.

Brooks-the-performer embodies the movie's spirit with superb modulation. 

Little in this movie makes real sense; and characters (particularly Dafoe and Delany) seem to bump regularly into each other. But there's something transcendentally appealing between the lines. This is a film to be savored for its nuances rather than its story.

Take the kids. Have fun.

Scent is a captured memory, a living, breathing reverie rather than a narrative. It's also the birth of a great talent.

The three main performances are uniformly good. Moore maintains a believable air of normalcy pushed into unusual directions. Headly is marvelously kooky, a victim with sporadic moments of spunk. Willis clearly has a blast playing evil unbound. He's disconcertingly good, a whirl of Method-acting menace and goateed aggression.

It may be longwinded here and there, but Mississippi Masala jumps with life. There's an ebullient, lusty mood to it. The characters have a crazy, eccentric rhythm of their own. It's fun to watch them be.

The movie (written and directed by Noonan), which took the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, is not as profound as the festival laurels imply. But when all is said and said, the fate of this relationship -- left hanging as the movie ends -- becomes a matter of compelling significance.

The Secret Garden unearths a few inventions of its own, it bears its own, quiet charms.

This is 90-proof, single-malt stuff. You sip it neat and you don't handle heavy machinery afterward. This movie will stay with you long after you've seen it, thanks to Thewlis's performance, Leigh's direction, Andrew Dickson's haunting bass-and-harp soundtrack, cinematographer Dick Pope's indelible images -- and the unalloyed, naked conviction of it all.

A charming children's crusade -- a rewarding journey for all ages.

The great thing about Mystery Train is its open-endedness. It's a generously scripted ride that gives equal berth to all its characters, then cuts them loose with unfinished business, which also leaves them alive and drifting in your thoughts for a long time. That doesn't seem like a bad achievement at all.

As an amalgam of drama and history, Reiner and scriptwriter Lewis Colick strike a surprisingly satisfying compromise.

Screenwriter Walters and director Hoffman superbly replay the mood of Tremain's lively, well-written novel.

To TV-raised minds, Paradise spends more time than it needs to get where it's going. But in its own terms, the movie has flashes of oldtime magic. It's a precious piece of time past -- and time kept.

If you like your movies with smooth skin, this might not be your cup of Neutrogena. But if you appreciate satire that reaches out and squeezes you where it hurts, you're going to enjoy yourself thoroughly.

Compelling, if sometimes grittily depressing, viewing.

Proceeds with an episodic pace, full of narrative twists and turns that clearly are not pretested by a Hollywood committee. Things feel sort of strange and original all at once.

The writing (by Bill and Cherie Steinkellner) has a non-sentimental appeal for that young preteen (and early teen) crowd that fancies itself too cool for kiddie stuff.

Watching "Henry" is very gratifying on a nonintellectual level. Director Mike Nichols moves through this story through the appropriate emotions with linear simplicity. Ford, who goes from control freak to powerless (but triumphant) child, makes the rather one-dimensional redemption work.

Works because of its heedless, heart-on-its-sleeve spirit.

We are amused. We are not sputtering into our teacups, but we are chortling lightly.

Beaufoy and Cattaneo handle this potentially racy material with an engaging balance of good taste and outright slapstick.

Enlightening, if structurally relaxed documentary.

Within its narrow, unambitious, commercial boundaries, the movie is highly watchable. Lowther is appealing, and Costner is a likable rebel.

Oddly compelling.

The story (adapted from Andrew Neiderman's novel by Jonathan Lemkin and Tony Gilroy) is surprisingly well-handled, given its rather crazy premise.

It's a fascinating film, but after a while, the digital photography wears out its gritty welcome.

This is a movie about improbability, randomness and absurdity. It almost goes without saying, you can't get in a panic about having everything.

Devil leads us into that dark, uncharted valley where evil, genius, divine inspiration, insanity -- and other unfathomable mysteries -- commingle. It also examines the hyperbolic industry of instant celebrity and ultimately shows us the complex algebraic equation that is Daniel Johnston's life.

Rather than the mad, kinetic video-game vigor you'd expect, the movie proceeds at a more leisurely and methodical gait. I rather liked that.

The movie does present solutions, including its urging of consumer demand for more accountability from restaurants and the building of marine reserves.

In this sprawling oglefest, such things as "narrative" and "story" are remote little abstractions indeed.

What keeps "Cinderella" from complete hokiness is Crowe's utterly believable performance.

A spirited remake of the French drag farce, has everything in place, from eyeliner to one-liner.

(Stamp and Fonda's) polar-opposition in acting styles and temperament, their cultural differences and their pop-cultural synergy come together with almost delicious cacophony.

The movie's still a solid "B," a workmanlike drama.

A warmly spirited travel diary of a movie.

Mostly, the movie is riveting, well-done fare -- the stuff of Hollywood epic adventure.

The movie, however, is Pesci's. In that courtroom, he gets on a roll and stays rolling until the end. There's no one better with that New York-New Jersey corridor accent.

For audiences simply looking for easy entertainment and some neat-looking robots along the way.

What counts is the comic tension between MacLaine and Cage. It's so well done, it doesn't matter how dumb things get.

There's your intrigue. There's your romance. There's your x factor, by which I mean your willingness to give two appealing stars an incredible break throughout most of the major obstacles between them and a successful robbery.

Where Avalon works, as with Diner and Tin Men, is where it's improvisory, comic and most artistically humble.

An impressive but nonetheless obvious imitation has sprung up in the shadows of two brilliant movies-I refer to 1955's "Kiss Me Deadly" and 1974's "Chinatown."

A hilarious, inventive and goofy breath of fresh air.

What really reaches us is the collective presence of the cast, most of them monks and other acting amateurs. They seem uniformly imbued with inherent grace and effortless spiritual bearing. And their smallest of gestures exude the kind of un-self-conscious gravitas that constitutes all fables.

A documentary that knows to sit back and listen as [Dobson] expounds on a variety of subjects.

In the end, Made is a movie with better potential than actual results.

A surprisingly gripping experience.

May leave you more cold and stunned than enlightened.

We may not get to their innermost feelings, which would have taken this documentary to a deeper, maybe darker level, but the movie's purpose is celebratory. As such, it's a satisfying experience.

Often wickedly funny, but about halfway through, the premise becomes -- shall we say? -- intestinally overextended.

Compelling, if throwaway, drama.

It's also genuinely moving to see disenfranchised individuals discovering self-determination from the hard ground up.

There are more climaxes in here than in a Swedish blue movie. This is not to say you won't be thrilled, charged up and put through the ringer at times, but your intelligence will need to be shoved under your seat like warm, flat soda.

Ferrell provides just enough humor to get us through the familiar fare and enjoy the ride.

The movie's sweeter than funny, but still has a fair share of guffaws.

A feel-good infusion for your precious little darling (or pack of darlings) who could use an uplifting fantasy.

May not be the ultimate word on the Tibetan situation, or even the Dalai Lama, but its heart seems to be in the right place; and it's entertaining enough to give audiences an emotional sense of the story. [16 January 1998, p.N32]

Sitting through The Hangover is like watching "Memento" featuring the Three Stooges.

Where the movie succeeds-and succeeds wonderfully-is when it stays a heartbeat away from politics. For two-thirds of the movie, it's an involving, boxing saga and romance.

Rush is too sinfully good for the drama he's in.

Fluffily enjoyable.

The movie’s main appeal—beyond stomach yearnings caused by its cuisine—comes from the actors, who infuse their archetypal roles with comedic appeal.

Shines the light on a special kind of heroism -- the guts to face up to yourself and make changes. What makes this so emotionally compelling is the way Dave scrambles from this deep vale of cluelessness to something approaching moral maturity.

Inspired by the true story of Ellis, has Hollywood formula practically stitched to its Speedo. But the characters and the actors who play them are so captivating, we're too entertained and charmed to notice.

If Honeymoon in Vegas is funny -- and it is -- it doesn't exactly ring with structural perfection. You wouldn't go to see it again. But with wonderfully bizarre Nicolas Cage scrambling and screaming his way through the proceedings, "Honeymoon" never attempts anything greater than goofy.

Even if the film is only moderately enjoyable, it can create a sort of exotic escapism.

It matters because this boxer taps into something deeper in our collective souls than the desire for entertainment. It's the hope that one day we're going to win big, too, after everyone's given up on us. It's as hokey as it's true.

McAvoy, so memorable as Idi Amin's doctor turned adviser in last year's "The Last King of Scotland," may be the most likable British newcomer since Ewan McGregor; his glistening eyes can seduce audiences with their ability to show conflicting emotions.

Much of "Clerks" is extremely funny and dead-on—in terms of its intentionally satirical, Gen-X-istential gloom.

Even if you tap only a little of the magic of "Peter Pan," you'll come away with some pixie dust.

Documentary about rock history's biggest heavy metal band is -- variously -- serious, funny, frustrating and touching.

A sweet movie that takes its time at first but soon takes you over.

Larded over with le fromage, which is to say, French cheese. But as these dairy products go, Christophe Barratier's movie is delectable sentiment. Audiences will crumble into itty-bitty pieces of Roquefort watching this.

It's enough of a spectacle to enjoy. It's too bad the stars are little more than serviceable and give the movie title an irony it could certainly do without.

We find ourselves in the fascinating no man's land between horror and comedy -- right where this movie wants us to be.

An engaging romance noir, a sort of updated "The Postman Always Rings Twice" that packs its surprises into four characters, none of them predictable.

You're not watching anything original, you're just reexperiencing elements you've seen in a jillion other spectacles (including "Die Hard," "True Lies" and even "Mission: Impossible"), only with more heat, more crash, more burn.

Lorenzo's Oil, which stars Susan Sarandon and Nick Nolte as the Odone parents, is not superbly made. But it's adequate enough to convey the story. No filmmaker (in this case, director George Miller) could stand in the way of this drama, though certainly others could have made it better.

Isn't just for music fans. It's more accessible than that, thanks to Joel Schumacher's bright direction and a few storytelling embellishments.

That's the only way to enjoy Wolfgang Petersen's nearly three-hour epic: as a Pitt vehicle. In a role that requires larger-than-life dimensions, he's pretty terrific.

A respectably stirring film about the rupturing birth of civil rights in the South. Although most of Walk Home heads down this ready-for-prime-time moral path, director Richard Pearce and screenwriter John Cork uncover some interesting dramatic grays along the way. 

First-time writer/director Tom Hanks stays about a half-beat ahead of the cliches with rim shots of boyish enthusiasm and deft comedy.

She’s the One, Edward Burns’s swift follow up to "The Brothers McMullen," may not have the primitive charm of its predecessor, but it retains the humorous spirit. It’s also graced with returning cast-members Burns, Mike McGlone and Maxine Bahns, whose bright comic interplay makes an enjoyable family reunion.

You judge a movie by its own standards, right? Bulletproof, starring Damon Wayans and Adam Sandler, is rambunctious, crude, ridiculous, violent and -- incidentally -- very funny.

Feels like a prolonged campfire conversation, filled with weathered, measured talk about holistic thinking and finding a new perspective.

The story (adapted by Spielberg and David Koepp from Michael Chrichton's "Lost World") isn't much better than "Jurassic Park." And the predictability factor is high.

Another handsome, dramatically moribund adaptation of a grand old classic.

A wonderfully unhurried and precious yarn.

A passionate murder mystery with more twists than a thrashing alligator.

It's a brilliant concept, one of Allen's finest. Love the concept, baby. But the execution is, well, average.

Throws humorous fish bones to the older crowd, too.

Leads you through a miserable childhood without sentimentality or relief. The effect is torturous.

In old-fashioned movie terms, it's enjoyable, thanks mostly to Neeson who, not unlike Jeff Bridges, always eclipses your expectations of him. [25 Oct 1996, Pg.N.42]

This is an odd amalgam of bleeding-heart sentimentality and over-the-top guts-and-glory action. You're not sure how to feel. But you're certainly not as moved and stunned as you were in "Black Hawk Down."

What's best about "Upside" is its gonzo-sitcom craziness, a situation that lends itself to enjoyable performances.

You feel as though you're watching a filmed play rather than a movie. Nothing wrong with that. But The Human Stain, directed more than well enough by Robert Benton, doesn't reach the emotional pitch it's shooting for.

Pontecorvo's pointed 1969 drama of the politics of war feels surprisingly timely.

Remember the peaceful atmosphere of bedtime storytelling? The kind that allows parent and child to take satisfaction in the story, not the teller? That's how "Charlotte" draws you into its web.

The reunion is fun and frantic, like the original on double nitro.

A thematically bleak yet subtly comic film.

Takes the spirit of their late night TV show and flies with it.

The film may employ the well-worn tradition of filtering African stories through the experiences of Europeans, but they use the conceit for some penetrating revelations.

If you think of Sneakers as a slick, updated Mission: Impossible, it's a lot of fun. It revels in the excitement of breaking security codes, slipping past guards and getting to the prize.

A gently stirring symphony about emotional transition filled with lovely musical passages and softly nuanced performances.

Thanks to the performances and the general looseness of the script, the movie is more appealing than it has any business being.

Unfortunately, the movie is likely to earn more money than praise. If it showcases him in all his glory, it also shows what little glory there is to celebrate.

Writer-director Cameron Crowe, who directed the John Hughes-scripted "Say Anything" and wrote "Fast Times at Ridgemont High,", creates a diverting collection of interwoven vignettes. It's not art, but it's always diverting.

Do these soldiers make it? We keep watching and waiting. There's not much more to Gunner Palace than that, but it's no different than the soldiers' lot.

And what makes this autopsy of a love affair funny is Tom's ironic, morose commentary as he revisits what happened.

Director Phillip Noyce, who made "Dead Calm," "Patriot Games" and "Clear and Present Danger," keeps things moving at a kinetic, involving pace. And writers Jonathan Hensleigh (who wrote "Die Hard With a Vengeance") and Wesley Strick create a diverting human steeplechase.

Low-tech inventiveness at its best.

It's more of an urban fairy tale, a surprisingly charming story that -- in certain sections -- almost crystallizes into the sweetness of a Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland musical.

Until the movie gets lost in its ultimately convoluted conceit, however, it's a superb modulation of menace, tension, mystery and eroticism.

Directed by David Slade ("Hard Candy"), the action scenes are artful and terrifying; these killers move so quickly and decisively, there seems to be no hope for humanity.

The performers understand the simple integrity of a slapstick gag, and they're prepared to suffer for its entertainment value. This is what the Jackassers do for fun -- and their fans, already well versed in such previous shows as the original MTV series and the 2002 "Jackass: The Movie," understand that perfectly. And is there any significant moral difference between these performers and dedicated ballerinas who damage their feet in the highfalutin interests of art, or Daytona drivers risking their lives on the track?

Though much of "Candy" is a clumsy sprawl, there's more than enough human spirit in the tank to keep it going.

What's so powerful about Mandoki's film, which he co-scripted with Torres, is the complex, ever-surprising course that Chava takes toward manhood.

Fluidly edited, subtle.

Pleasant enough and its ecological, pro-wildlife sentiments are certainly welcome.

Although this film doesn't have the classy quality of The Fugitive, it certainly goes down like an action milkshake. And Jones, one of the most enjoyable actors on the screen, plays himself to the hilt.

There’s so much high-voltage fun running throughout this comic sci-fantasy -- engineered gleefully by director Luc Besson -- you’re hard-pressed to be unaffected.

Brings things to an almost cheesy conclusion. Given the gripping, dark elements that creator George Lucas introduced in the two previous films, the third movie’s outcome smacks of PG-rated populism rather than artistic fulfillment. But the experience is still highly entertaining. [Special Edition]

Smells much more like real life than the immediate mating that occurs between expensive movie stars on Hollywood soundstages.

Despite a dissatisfying conclusion, a sense that things don't completely jell, The Tailor of Panama is lively and provocative.

It's an updated Capra fantasy that goes for the sweet rather than the tart.

Shows us how funny farce can be -- even with the hokiest of premises -- in the hands of the British.

Avenue Montaigne transforms an overwhelming metropolis into a user-friendly village with quirkily appealing characters.

Impressive, big-scale scenes, such as a train derailment from a snow-covered bridge. And the vocal performances of Ryan and Cusack give us a real sense of romance.

This handmade feel gives Zathura an appealing, childlike sense of wonder, an element too often forgotten in movies with many times the budget and technological resources.

Love is supple entertainment -- thanks to on-the-money performances by Bassett and Laurence Fishburne as Ike.